lee_fallon | PSL - Chance Encounter

Lee's been in Darrow now about a week and a half, and he's been to every bar in the city limits, met all of the owners, and offered to tailor each of their wine lists. He wasn't getting paid for any of this, but based on the amount of money in his bank account, his monthly stipend, and the cost of rent, he didn't really need money to get by day to day. And he certainly didn't need to save up for anything.

He still hasn't bothered to see a doctor. He feels like he probably should, just so someone in the city (besides his dear friend Susan) knows what was going on with him. But he'll get to that later.

Today he's out for a run. His running shoes arrived in the mail yesterday, and he's been itching to get his pulse up. He never feels as alive as he does when he's out on the street, feet pounding against the pavement, sweating freely, breathing hard. Sex is a very close second, but nothing beats the adrenaline rush of a good, hard sprint.

He doesn't have a route yet, just sort of turning left and right at intersections with no rhyme or reason. He's planning on doing six miles today, using the app on his phone to track his progress; so far he's just over four miles, maintaining something close to an eight minute mile pace, nice and respectable.

But then, turning a corner, he stops, abruptly enough that he nearly stumbles. It's been a few days since he last saw Connor, his last glimpse when Connor slipped out of his apartment. He'd thought about calling a few times, just to check on him, but for some reason Lee had always changed his mind.

Here he is now, walking down the street, late afternoon sun lighting up his face. Lee's thought about him a lot, about what it had been like to be with him, but also worrying about him, all that sorrow filling him up, sending him on a self-destructive path. He looks good, right now, not happy really but not falling into himself like he had been a few nights ago.

He can't make himself say anything, just stands and watches Connor walk his way on the opposite side of the street. He's breathing heavily from running, covered in sweat, and his heart is pounding, but some of that has to do with seeing Connor again. More than he's willing to admit even to himself.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's the combination of it - the filth of what Lee's saying, the touch of his tongue. Connor whimpers, his hips jerking, even if there's nowhere for him to go.

"I got tested," he says, swallowing. "Right before I got here. I'm clean." He whimpers again. "Sir."

Lee moans, his mouth still against Connor's ass, and he sinks his tongue inside as much as he can, feeling Connor's body starting to tighten back up again a little.

"Do you want me to come inside you, Connor?" he asks, licking along the cleft of Connor's ass, brushing the flat of his tongue over Connor's hole. "Do you want me to fill you up with it, then put a plug in you, make you keep it inside?"

God, Lee's got experience of this from somewhere or he's really creative - either way, Connor sees a lot here to love. He groans at the press of Lee's tongue inside him.

"Fuck, yes."

Lee loves this kind of stuff, but he hasn't done it in a long time. Usually he just has quick fucks that are fine and satisfying, but with Connor he wants to spend time doing it, making him feel good, seeing what Connor won't agree to. Which, so far, has been absolutely nothing.

"Next time," he says, licking around Connor's hole again before he sits up some, kissing one of Connor's ass cheeks and reaching between Connor's legs, cupping his balls and rolling them softly. "The best sex I've had in years has been these last two times with you," he says, and he's being completely honest. "You make me want to never stop fucking you."

Lee's teasing now, and Connor loves him a bit for it. He squirms, halfway between rolling his balls into Lee's hand and trying to get away from it. He whimpers a little, rubbing his cheek against the sheets.

"Don't have to stop," he says, grinning. A little thrill goes through him at the promise of another time.

"Good," Lee replies, rubbing his thumb tip behind Connor's balls, dropping his head to lick at Connor's hole again, just once. He squeezes Connor's balls then, not hard, but enough to feel his scrotum tighten. "I was just thinking about you sitting on me," he says, shifting his hand up and sinking his thumb inside Connor's ass, then dragging it back out. "In my lap, so I can kiss you, but fucking yourself down on me."

His cock twitches at the thought of it. He's been kept waiting for a long time, edged to what felt like within an inch of his life. He can take this. But the torture of it is delicious.

"That sounds amazing," he says, biting his lip.

"I want to fuck you in the shower," Lee says, turning his hand so he can slide his palm along Connor's cock, hard and hot and leaking between his legs. "See if I can hold you up against the wall while I do it. Or make you kneel," he goes on, wrapping his fingers around the girth of Connor's dick, stroking lightly. "Jerk myself off on you, come on your face. Do you like that? Having someone come on you?"

He's going to come. Lee's touching him like that, and he's going to come, he's not going to be able to stop him. He drags in a steadying breath through his nose, tries to concentrate through it.

"Fuck, yes," he says. "Where do you want to come on me?"

"On your face," Lee replies, still stroking softly, slowly, but he can hear Connor's voice getting breathless. "I want to see it all over you, on your lips, in your eyelashes," he goes on, stopping at the head of Connor's dick and squeezing it. "I want to come on your throat, your chest," he says. "I want to pull out of you when I'm fucking you and come on your ass, paint your clenching hole with it."

"Stop," he says, the word stuttering out of him, his hips trembling, his hands shaking. "I can't. I'm going to..." He swallows. "Fuck, I'm going to come if you don't stop."

Lee does what Connor says, stills his hand and then removes it completely. He thought maybe Connor was ready now, but he's not, and Lee's not sure what to do next.

"Have you ever come just from someone fucking you?" he asks, keeping his hands to himself for the moment, staring at the way Connor's cock bobs between his legs, hard and dark.

Connor nods, swallow, breathing through his nose, trying to centre himself for a moment.

"Once or twice," he says.

"With someone finger fucking you, or using their cock on you?" Lee asks, trying to keep his hands off Connor's ass, wanting to put his fingers inside while they talk about this, wanting to try to make it happen himself.

"Both," says Connor, smiling. "I was with...a lot of older guys when I was a teenager." He bites his lip, squirming his hips back, hoping that Lee can take a hint. "Some of them really knew what they were doing."

Connor sounds more centered again, so he gives in to the desire to touch him, pressing his fingers against the pucker of Connor's hole, rubbing. He probably needs more lube, so Lee reaches for the tube, leaving his fingers in place. He squeezes some of the slick gel directly onto Connor's ass, and it drips down against Lee's fingertips. He uses his other hand to spread the lube over his fingers again, then slides two immediately inside.

"I know what I'm doing," Lee tells him, and he turns his hand, triggering Connor's prostate with almost no effort in trying to find it again, remembering exactly where it is.

His hips jerk when Lee's fingers immediately graze against his prostate, his cock twitching completely of its own volition, leaking onto the blanket. He swallows convulsively, squirming his hims back.

"I can see that," he says.

Lee does it again, rubbing his fingertips over Connor's prostate, putting enough pressure there to make Connor's body clench down tight around him. "This is how you come," he tells Connor, letting up for a moment to stroke his fingers in and out. "I won't touch your cock again, and I won't untie you, until you come on my fingers."

Oh, fuck.

Connor nods, feverish, his hips squirming, fucking himself on Lee's fingers. "Yes, Sir." He says, biting his lip, head down, face pressed against the sheets. "You won't be done with me after that, though, right?"

Connor calls Lee 'sir' again and Lee's blood drops into his crotch, making him feel lightheaded. "No," he tells Connor, still feeling a little dizzy. "If I have my way you won't leave here until tomorrow morning," he says, sinking his fingers deep again, twisting his wrist, bumping Connor's sweet spot, and then repeating the action again, and again.

Connor presses his smile into the sheet.

"Please, Sir."

After that, he can say anything else, he's too focused on the press of Lee's fingers, the throbbing between his thighs. It happens without warning - he doesn't even have time to beg permission before he's coming, making a fucking horrible mess on Lee's sheets.

The please is almost a little hysterical, because it reminds Lee of Oliver Twist, but he doesn't have the opportunity to laugh, Connor's body spasming and clenching down around his fingers as Connor comes completely without warning. It goes on forever, Connor's ass squeezing down in rhythmic bursts as he unloads himself on Lee's bed. He's going to have to strip the top layer of blankets at least if they're going to continue and they don't want to end up in the wet spot.

"Fuck, that seemed really good," Lee comments, Connor's body sagging as much as it can with him still tied to the headboard and Lee's fingers still pressed up deep in Connor's ass.

"That was really fucking good," he says, blushing, flushed and sweaty and still trembling. He squirms a little, craving more of Lee's fingers, but still over sensitised. "God, you're not going to go easy on me now, are you?"

Lee laughs, mostly because he's overwhelmed with how much he wants this, wants Connor, doesn't want to give him up. "Do you want me to?" he asks, still smiling. He's careful as he pulls his fingers free Connor's body still holding him tight.