Microsoft Word - Talkers_Redemption_Lane.docx

brain on flash-fry.
    Brian made a little whining sound and turned around to snatch
    the bottle back. While Talker was still coming up with words for,
    “But… but you’re the top! I’m supposed to… oh Jesus.” Brian
    poured clear, slippery lubricant on his fingers and reached back,
    and and and oh holy bat, crapman, he was thrusting a finger into
    his own tightly puckered entrance, and Tate couldn’t look away.
    Brian sighed and grunted, and his whole body shook like a
    dog getting scratched in just that right place, and then he added
    another finger.
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    All thoughts about “top” and “bottom” charged out of Talker’s
    skull, and he wanted to touch his lover in the way that was making
    him moan softly into the pillow with every molecule of his body, even
    the ones in the ends of his hair and his tattoos.
    He reached out and grabbed Brian’s hand and pulled his
    fingers out, muttering, “Let me!”
    Brian put his hand down and just sat there, ass in the air,
    vulnerable, and quivering with an unspoken begging that made
    Talker hurry so fast his hands shook. He stripped off his own
    clothes, shivering in the chill of their bedroom, and snagged the
    lube from where Brian had left it on the bed, then added some to his
    fingers.
    He tended to keep his nails bitten to the skin anyway, so there
    was nothing sharp to snag on tender flesh, and he used two fingers,
    and push… push… push….
    Brian’s sphincter clamped down on him in a tight, wet, lube-
    slick grip that gave Talker the shivers. Brian moaned and Talker
    pumped slowly in, feeling the hot, grainy texture of Brian’s insides
    and wondering, oh God, wondering….
    His own cock, medium-sized and misshapen, was literally
    dripping pre-come onto the rumpled blankets. Oh God!
    “Stretch me,” Brian commanded, his voice thin and impatient.
    “Scissor your… oh hell yes!”
    Tate had never possessed any subtlety. “Now? Are you ready
    now?” Brian was begging. Omigod, there was his lover, on his
    hands and knees, slick and dilated and begging and of course Tate
    was good to go!
    “Soooooo ready. C’mon, Talker… do it… Geez….” More
    pleading grunts into the pillow in front of him, more ass-wriggling
    and sexy shivers. Tate wanted him so bad, but—
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    “Don’t want to hurt….” For the moment, he was uncertain, and
    Brian put that to rest right quick.
    “Gaaahhhh, fucking dammit, Talker, would you fuck me
    already?”
    Well. Didn’t get much clearer than that, did it? Tate’s cockhead
    was mostly unscarred, and it looked, well, perfect, right up against
    Brian’s pucker. It looked… miraculous, pushing through it.
    Unbelievable. Fictional fucking. Brian stopped making noises and
    kept very still, and his breathing grew very even. Tate realized Brian
    was forcing himself to relax. He reached out a hand and stroked
    Brian’s flank and then the small of his back, and kept pushing,
    gently and inexorably. This was not the time to chicken out.
    “How you doin’?” Tate asked softly. He was almost there almost
    there almost—pop!
    “Gawwwww!” Brian half-screamed into the pillow, and Tate
    would have yanked out then, if he hadn’t been afraid it would really
    hurt if he did that!
    “’S good!” Brian gibbered. “’S good! Keep going! Crap, keep
    going!”
    Talker managed slow. It was a big triumph, going slow. He…
    he… oh God… slow. Slow until he was buried. Slow until he couldn’t
    go anymore, and Brian’s body clamped down on him, and he had to
    stop, and there they were, merged, joined, orificially engaged in
    intercourse, and just shaking with the effort and the pleasure and
    the weirdness of it all.
    “Uhm… Talker?” Brian’s voice was quivering just like his body.
    “Yeah?”
    “Man… you gonna move soon?”
    Talker’s grin was tight and shaking too. “You gonna grab your
    cock so we can both come?”
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    “I could do that… nnnngggg….” That last part meant he
    probably had. Talker pulled his hips back until he was uhm, right,
    you know, yeah there, and then he thrust them forward, hard
    enough for Brian to feel him. They both groaned, and he did it again.
    He kept doing it, slowly at first, but then faster, and harder, and
    then (gasp) then (moan) then (aaauuuggghhh!!!) he was pumping
    as fast as he could, without finesse or holding back and Brian was
    screaming into the pillow in