Xander Shows Me My Prostate

Xander's grinning at me, though I'd say he doesn't look convinced. 

"Do you have sunstroke?"

I chuckle, and give him a wink. "I can think of something you could stroke, yeah."

He rolls his eyes, but I can see he's amused. "I should take you home," he suggests, instead.

Maybe it's the sun, maybe it's the pent-up horniness and the uncertainty of when I'd see him next. Hell, maybe it's his lukewarm Gatorade. Whatever the reason for my boldness, I reach out and put my hand on his leg. Fingers softly squeezing at his thigh through his jeans.

"You should take me somewhere we can fuck," I repeat. I'm trying to pitch my voice low and hopefully alluring; make it abundantly clear that I'm not kidding around or, for that matter, in need of medical attention. 

His eyes flick down to my hand. Back up to my face, and then conspicuously track down my body where I'm slumped in the seat. Legs sprawling out into the footwell and clothes clinging to my sticky skin.

"You're all sweaty," Xander observes. 

I raise an eyebrow. "I can get sweatier."

He chuckles, softly. "I still think I should take you home."

Pointedly, I drape my other hand across my crotch. Gratified to see his gaze instantly directed there, just in time to watch me grope at myself through the snug nylon. It's not like everything is on show, but the contours of what I'm gripping are certainly suggestive. 

"There are people at home," I point out, "think of somewhere else." Xander smiles. 

"Are you seducing me, Luka?" 

I shrug, not letting go of my hold on his leg or, for that matter, my swelling cock as it steadily fills out in my shorts. "You can say no, if you don't want to." 

The thought of him turning me down makes my stomach do backflips. I'm trying not to let the anxiety show. 

He doesn't answer, though. Or, at least, not with words. Places his hand on top of mine instead, and drags it up his thigh until my fingers are wrapped around where his dick is bulging against the denim. Shaping them around the clear length of his own hardness. 

Yeah, he wants to.

Xander gives me another look, somewhere between curious, and lustful, and assessing, and then he's putting the car in gear and we're pulling away from the curb. My hands are still occupied between his legs and my own, and if I'm scared, if I'm anxious or nervous about what I've just put in motion, then the anticipation and arousal are enough to overshadow that. 

The idea of talking to him is too overwhelming, and so we sit there in silence. Just the sound of the engine and my own thoughts, blended with the feel of his erection and my own. 

I have to release him when we pull up outside an apartment building, Xander stepping out of the car and then waiting for me to follow him. He's smiling now, expression amused, as though he half expects me to bolt. Like he's placing bets on it in his head, and I'm wondering what my odds are. 50-50 that I go through with it, perhaps, or maybe he credits me with a little more commitment. 

My voice would betray my nerves, and so I simply stand in front of him until Xander turns and unlocks the door. 

It's his apartment, I realize, as he slots the key into the lock. Not quite the college dorm mess that I wouldn't be surprised if most guys his age live in, and I look around, trying to figure out if that's because he shares the space with his girlfriend. I know they've been together a while, now, but I never bothered to ask if they lived together. Never needed to know, really. 

He stops, turns. And so I stop too, in the middle of the living room, feeling the sudden weight of his eyes on me. 

"You look... nervous," Xander observes. I shrug. 

"No more than usual." Honesty, or something close to it, seems like the best policy. He chuckles. 

"You're usually nervous?" His eyebrow lifts. "Because of me?" 

It's hard to hold his gaze, when the questions are like this, but I only allow myself one brief glance away. Steel myself to look back; meet his stare with my own. 

"This is all new to me, remember."

The corner of Xander's mouth quirks up. "You don't have to do anything," he points out. 

I laugh, unable to stop myself. "Half of the nerves are because I want to do it so much," I explain. 

"Lucky me," he replies. The smirk has spread, and I feel a flush of pleasure at knowing that I've pleased him. "Get undressed."

It's an order, or thereabouts, and so I don't overthink it. Kick off my running shoes, and peel the still-sweaty shirt over my head. Ease down the clinging nylon shorts, too. They're lined, and so there's nothing to stop my dick from jutting out when I stand up again. 

I feel exposed, but it's as exciting as it is nerve-racking. Something about the hunger in Xander's gaze, the fierceness of it, leaving me with no uncertainty that he not only approves of what he sees, but wants it. Considering I haven't ever really thought of my body as anything other than ordinary, the intensity of that look is astonishing. 

"Lucky me," he repeats, but his voice is lower now, thicker somehow. New layers of lust and fascination, and though it makes me blush it also makes my cock throb a little harder, too. "Turn around."

Again, no questions. Just a slow pivot on the balls of my feet, losing sight of Xander's face but I have no doubt as to where he's looking. The only real uncertainty in my mind being what, exactly, he wants to do when he sees me this way. 

Or what, for that matter, I'd allow him to do.

I turn back around, after a moment. Wanting to see his expression, and not disappointed in what I find. 

He pulls off his shirt; shoves down his jeans and briefs, and then he's standing there as naked as I am. Dick just as rigid, too, and there's something wild about being able to look at him, at all of him. Not worry what he might think of my interest, or what it might say about me, the kind of guy I am. Because all of that is already out there, a known quantity, and while that's terrifying it's also liberating. 

Perhaps you can't have liberation without a little terror, too. I'm not sure. 

Xander has closed the distance between us while I was thinking; the softness of his fingers as they trail up my arm makes me jerk with surprise. Enough to make him chuckle, though that eases into a hum of pleasure as I slip my hand around the back of his neck. Use that grip to pull him into me.

"Can I... can I kiss..." I can't quite believe I'm asking. Or, for that matter, that he interrupts me.

"Luka. You don't have to ask permission."

I blink at him, brain reconfiguring around this new information. Or adjusting, maybe, to a scenario where it's not Xander choosing what to dole out to me, what experiment or pleasure I'm allowed, but where we explore those limits together. 

Leaning in, I kiss his grin. 

It's my tongue that pushes first, this time, my lips that part and allow the kiss to deepen. Not that Xander is some passive, compliant partner in it all, his hands gripping my back as he grinds his crotch into mine. 

"I like kissing you," I tell him, a breathless moment snatched within our growing playfulness. He laughs. 

"Oh good, because I like kissing you, too."

One of his hands has drifted down, palm cupping my ass. The other reaching up, fingers brushing across my wet lips. A smirk, as I open my mouth and gently suck on his fingers. 

"Now I think you really are trying to seduce me," Xander teases. 

He pulls his hand free, and then I feel the slick digits pushing between my cheeks. Searching for my hole, and I tilt my hips to help him find his target. Groan as his first finger slides into me, one smooth motion until I feel his knuckles pressing against my ass. 

The moan as he adds the second finger is muffled by our kiss, but I know he can feel my reaction. My body shuddering in his grip, Xander's arm around my waist squeezing me to him as he pumps his hand with growing roughness. Like he knows I can take it, that I want it that way. 

Right now I don't have the mental capacity to dwell on how true that all is. 

I squeal into his mouth as he pulls up, lifting onto my toes as his hooked fingers drag my ass up. Astonished and a little afraid at how he can make my body feel; how desperate and needy Xander can make me. Trying to reclaim some of the determination and focus I had before, the boldness that saw me proposition him. Whereas at the moment it feels like all I can do to squirm and groan as he works me over.

"So how do you want this, Luka?" His voice is a hiss in my ear, a knife cutting through the whirlpool of sensations I'm otherwise overwhelmed by. The space between us slick with my precum and his, our cocks sliding together as I wriggle in his arms. 

"I... don't know," I manage to gasp. Counting on his proximity to understand me, because the words themselves are mangled, tortured. 

A chuckle; he steps backwards, and I have no choice but to follow him. Until his legs hit the edge of the sofa, and I whimper again as his fingers twist inside me when he sits down. His other hand instantly wrapping in a tight grip around my erection. 

"I dunno, Luka," Xander says, sounding thoughtful as he strokes and fingers me. He leans in, brushing the swollen, glistening tip of my dick against his lips. Fast enough he's almost pulled away before I register the friction, but it's still enough to leave my knees threatening to buckle. "I kinda want to ride this, y'know?" 

When I look down at him, my eyes wide, he's already staring up at me. His expression positively mischievous, lips wet with my cock's drool. 

"I... I thought..." I start. The words, though, aren't coming. My brain can't put them into the right order. 

"You just assumed I was gonna fuck you?" 

I had. No other possibility had entered my head, even occurred to me on the drive over here. All I'd pictured was Xander replacing his fingers with his cock, and the way it would feel as he buried himself into me. In my mind's eye, I'd been, well, Lucy. 

"Uh..." 

It's more a noise than anything, some expression of the uncertainty gurgling in my chest. As I attempt to reposition the pieces in my imagination; shuffle us around so that it's Xander on all-fours and I'm the one behind him. 

Not a bad image, by any means, just not the one I was expecting. 

"I figured you'd want... y'know," I manage, finally. Xander's eyebrow arches. 

"Cards on the table, Luka... I do. Like, fuck, I really, really do." Punctuated by a third finger pushed into my ass, and I feel the tightness of his fist on my cock as I swell and grunt and shudder again. "But this isn't an either-or thing," he continues. Watching me blink at him in confusion, with that knowing, teasing smile lighting up his face. "I can fuck you, and you can fuck me. That's how this works, y'know."

It's almost too much, the possibilities. An overload of choice, and the sudden feeling that I should weigh everything in the balance before I get close to making a decision. Even without the fact that rational thought is an impossibility, what with half of Xander's hand plying my hole and his fist slowly jerking me as my precum flicks across his chest and belly. 

I don't have to ask permission, that's what he told me. We just get to explore together. 

"I think I want that too," I tell him. "To... to fuck you, I mean." I can feel myself blushing. "But... fuck me first, okay?" 

He stares at me for a moment, long seconds in which I wonder if I've fucked up in some way, said the wrong thing or disappointed him. Revealed myself to be thoroughly naive. 

And then he smiles at me, and it's a look of such eagerness and lust that I almost groan with the intensity. 

He's pulling me again, now, drawing me in closer still until I'm straddling his legs. Using my cock to pull me down, fingers never stopping their brain-melting churn in my hole as I sit on his lap, my legs folding on the cushions either side of him. 

"I wanna see your face when I push inside you the first time," Xander tells me, gaze intense. "You're gonna feel so good."

I swallow, my hands falling into the gap between us and finding his own hardness. Working my fingers around it, trying to understand how it could ever fit into me. Xander's fingers aren't small, sure, but he's thick and pretty long, and I know first-hand how difficult it was to get that down my throat. The thought of it pushing into my ass keeps tripping my mental circuit breaker, sending me right back to the start in a loop of confusion. 

"Condom first," he warns me. I shake my head - instinctively at first, not wanting anything to delay this, derail it; to mean I have to stand up or wait any longer, now that I've decided - then more insistent as I see his frown. "Luka..."

"You get tested, right?" I've heard them all talk about it, my sister's friends. Xander nods, still squinting at me skeptically. "And I..." I swallow, blushing again. Even after everything we've done, all we're doing now, it still feels embarrassing to admit my inexperience to him. As though he might finally realize I'm not on his level, somehow, and tell me we can't keep going. "I've never... I mean, you're my first..."

For a moment I think he's going to protest. To insist. And so I try to channel my own, inner Xander, or at the very least the rough outline of him; lean in, still feeling his bunched fingers stretching me as my hips tilt on his lap, and bring my mouth right to his ear. 

"Please... I want my first time... I want to really feel you."

A beat, and then I hear him chuckle. The sound rich and filthy. "Fuck, Luka." 

And I think - no, I know, I'm sure of it - that he's going to tell me to be sensible, to be safe, and I can feel my blush starting all over again. Right up until the point that he speaks again.

"I'm gonna cum so fucking deep in you..."

There's a bottle of lube between the couch cushions, because of course there is, and even as I'm making a mental note to tease him about that later - because any excuse to ask Xander whether he jerks off on the sofa while watching porn seems like a damn appealing idea to me - he's rubbing it into my hole. Drizzling it down between our bodies, onto where my hands are still stroking his length, and now it's dawning on me, really starts to hit home, that I'm getting him ready to fuck me. 

Maybe some of that sudden awareness is clear on my face; maybe Xander just knows, from his own experience perhaps, how I'm likely to be feeling. Because just as my brain is starting to fizz with uncertainty he's holding my cheek and tilting my head back. Making me look straight at him, right into the depths of his eyes as he fixes me with his gaze.  

"It's going to be weird, maybe uncomfortable at first, okay?" I nod, mute. "And if you want to stop, we stop. But I think... I think you're gonna end up feeling really good, yeah?"

I nod again, only this time it feels more focused, more certain. Because I know what to expect, even if I'd never have expected to be in this situation, and just as much I know what I want. Even if it hurts a little before I get there. 

"Lift up," Xander instructs, and I raise myself on my thighs. Feel him shuffle slightly beneath me, his hand pushing down at his cock until it's pointing upright. And now it's the kiss of that wet, smooth, slippery skin against my ass, so much lube he's sliding up and down my crack and when Xander giggles in amusement it's like something in me is unlocked, too. Given permission to laugh as well, as I hold his shoulders and he nudges himself into place, and we're both still chuckling when I feel the bluntness of him pushing into me. 

It's like his fingers but it's also not; thicker and less forgiving. I realize I'm holding my breath, force myself to exhale as my body makes some weak attempt at obstruction before giving up, and the whole, broad head of his cock is inside me. 

"Oh fuck..." It's a gasp, my eyes wide as I watch his own search my face for signs that it's too much. That there's pain, discomfort, and I'm having second thoughts because of it. And I want to tell him that it's okay, that it feels so fucking weird but I still don't want to stop, but those words are beyond me. Would require a whole second brain somehow squeezed into my skull, a second Luka to narrate what is so fully overwhelming the original. 

So I don't bother with words, ignore them completely, and focus instead on pushing myself further down toward his lap. My body stretching in a way that feels entirely foreign, new, as I impale myself on him. 

"Fuck, you're tight," Xander grunts, and I'm not sure if it's surprise or pleasure or some mixture of the two that I'm hearing in his voice. No doubting the expression on his face, though, mouth open as he stares at me; nostrils flared, while his fingers dig into the meat of my ass and he guides me even closer to him. "Is it... is it okay?"

There's something about the way he still remembers to ask me that which makes me want to kiss him again. Leaning down as I do it, my forearms on his shoulders and my hands laced in his hair, a grip as much to steady my steady descent as to position our faces. Xander's lips a welcome distraction from the way he's gaping me, and suddenly three fingers doesn't seem like nearly enough to prepare me for what comes next. 

I don't know if he twitches or if my leg flinches first; either way, I drop down with my full body weight onto him. Feel his cock skewer me to the root, driving the air from my lungs as I choke with surprise into our kiss. 

We both freeze, each holding as still as we possibly can. Lips still pressed together; my fingers a rictus grip in his sweat-damp hair as I try to process what's happening. Why it feels like Xander is filling me up to the very top of my scalp, right through my core.

"Holy crap," I manage, finally. When the sensations have simmered down to a full throb. "Please tell me you don't have any dick left."

Xander snorts, surprised, and then I'm giggling too. 

"I think you got it all," he confirms, fingers gently stroking my flanks. "You sure you're a beginner?"

I give him a pointed look. "Just over-ambitious, maybe." Xander chuckles again, and then I feel him shift beneath me slightly. The movement tiny, but enough to churn up a whole new set of sensations radiating out from my hole. 

He waits until my eyes have refocused. "Tell me how it feels."

My shrug is more about the impossibility of putting it into words than anything else. "I thought you said you'd done this before," I told him. Xander smirks.

"I have. But it's hot hearing you talk about it too."

I roll my eyes. "Is this all I am to you," I observe, laying it on thick. "A piece of ass and some entertainment?"

He lifts himself on the couch, his cock pressing that little bit deeper into me. Leaving me gasping and panting. "Hey, you said it was all in!"

Xander ignores the complaint. "A piece of tight ass," he corrects me. "So tell me how it feels."

I sigh, but at the same time there's something exciting about talking about this stuff. Like it makes it more real, somehow. Not that the way my body currently feels could be mistaken for anything from my imagination. 

"You feel thick," I tell him. Flex my thighs experimentally, and almost gasp again at the friction as a few inches of his dick pull out of me. "And... weird. But good weird."

"Good weird, got it," Xander says, grinning. I'm wondering just how much restraint he's having to impose upon his body; how strong the urge to just start pounding me is. Or whether, for that matter, my naive hole could actually handle it if he did. 

"Look, I'm sorry my descriptive powers aren't to your satisfaction," I point out. He laughs, then pulls my head down to kiss me again. After a few seconds of it, I'm wondering whether I should just start bouncing on him. "You're meant to be fucking me," I murmur, softly. 

Xander smiles; I feel the shape of it against my lips. "I wasn't sure you were ready."

When I lift myself again, it's that same sensation of him pulling me inside-out. So utterly foreign and strange, but not in an unpleasant way, I'm finding. I bite my lip; rub my thumb across his cheek. 

"Try me."

---

This is the eleventh part of an ongoing story - really appreciate everyone who has commented, emailed, or rated it so far! You can find more of my writing at www.alexpendragon.com - thanks for reading!