Xander Shows Me My Prostate

"I'm full of something," I point out to him, grinning. Xander stretches, lithe like a cat, above me. 

"I know the feeling," he agrees. Smiles, almost a little sleepily. When he shifts on my chest, I can feel the slickness of his skin brushing against me. It's not an unpleasant feeling, I decide. 

He looks... contented. At least, that's the best word my still-overwhelmed brain can come up with right now. After all, there's a lot going on in there too, as I gingerly probe the reality of what we just did together, cautious of any potential freak-out points. 

"I think the burritos will be cold," Xander says, out of nowhere. I chuckle at the change of topic, but it's a reminder of the world outside of his living room. Of what we're doing together, and how it's increasingly escalating. 

It's not that I'm having regrets. More just... thinking about it, more. 

"So, um..." I start; words trailing off as he glances down at me. Eyebrow raising as the silence spools out. 

"Spit it out," Xander tells me, and I giggle, despite myself. 

"Not what you said before," I remind him, and lick my lips. Xander snorts then reaches down and squeezes my cheeks, turning my grin into a pucker that he can lean in and kiss. 

"One-track mind," he accuses me, which I feel is a little hypocritical but now doesn't seem the time to mention it. "So... what?"

It's hard to shrug, laying down on my back with a guy straddling my chest, but I try it anyway. It probably isn't very convincing. 

"I just... well..." I want to look away, but that's particularly hard when he's staring at me so intently now, waiting. "I wondered... was... y'know, was I... okay?"

There's a moment where he's just looking at me, brows slightly creased, probably asking himself whether that's some weirdly-phrased sign I'm about to have a bad reaction to what we just did. And then I see realization dawn, and the slow smile that spreads across his face with it.

"You mean, did you fuck me good?" I can see the amusement, hear it in his voice, but the question - blunt as it is - is still so close to my own paranoia that it's difficult to grin along with him. Shrug again, still awkward, instead. 

Xander sits back, watching my expression. Ass resting lightly on my belly; not enough to put pressure there, but certainly to remind me that he's naked and sticky after our sex, and that I am too. 

"Fishing for compliments?" he suggests, plainly. I make a face. 

"It was... look, it was my first time," I tell him, aiming for blunt myself, even as it makes my guts twist. "So I just... I know I might not have..." Fuck, why does this have to be so hard; harder, even, than kissing him, or having him toy with me in public, or any of the other stuff. I bite my lip, as frustrated at myself as I am at the situation. "I probably wasn't very good, but I'm sorry, okay, it's just... yeah."

He blinks at me, and for a moment I see something close to surprise in his face. Only there a moment, though, until it's replaced by a familiar smile. 

"Luka, I swear to god I worry about you, sometimes," Xander says, softly. 

I frown again. "Uh... I'm sorry?" 

He shakes his head, chuckling. "You were perfect. It was perfect."

It should be a relief, hearing it, but somehow it only makes me more paranoid. "I'm sorry I didn't... y'know, last longer."

Xander sighs, then swings his leg over me so that he can stand up. Stretches again, and the way the muscles in his legs, his torso, his arms all flex and shift, it's 99% enough to distract me from my concern. 

"You were amazing. You almost fucked the eyes out of my head, and the fact that you're now doubting yourself is a little bit adorable but mostly unnecessary," he tells me, holding out a hand. I take it, and let myself be tugged up to my feet. 

He pulls me in closer, then wraps his arms around me. 

"This whole 'I don't realize how cute I am' thing is sweet, but I need you to recognize that you're a catch, Luka," he tells me, as my face erupts into fresh blushing. "I don't know if someone told you otherwise, or if you just never realized it yourself, but you're incredible and it's time you accepted that. Anyone would be lucky to be with you, okay?"

I bite my tongue, not trusting myself to respond. Not when I know the first thing out of my mouth stands a good chance of being along the lines of "so why don't you want it?"

That'll only frustrate him. Or get me an answer I probably don't want to hear. 

So I shrug instead, and smile at him in a way that I figure is more bashful than frustrated, and enjoy the way Xander is squeezing me. Right up until he says...

"Ugh, I need a shower."

... and then suddenly I am super-aware of how sweaty, and sticky, and generally messed-up I am right now, and the idea of soaping that all off - preferably with some company while I do it - seems like a very good first priority. 

"I could wash your back," I offer, hopefully, and Xander snorts. 

"I'm not sure I trust you behind me, now. Not after seeing what you're capable of." 

I'm still blushing when he leads me into the bathroom, watching him as he turns on the water and then pulls me under the spray. And then it's the heat of it that I can blame, my skin prickling pleasantly as Xander's hands slick across me. 

"What are you going to tell Lucy about this?" 

I don't know why the question comes to me. Or, more accurately, I don't know why I can't stop myself from asking it. Something about their relationship, the unusual boundaries they've established, and the way my brain keeps getting caught on it all. I'm pretty sure he must be frustrated by my curiosity, but even then the heat of his reaction startles me. 

"Why do we have to talk about her?" 

There's a sharpness, an anger almost, that I'm not expected. Can't quite recall ever seeing in Xander, even. Enough to make me flinch back, the cold of the tiles suddenly bright against my shoulders. 

"Just... I mean, she's your girlfriend..." My voice sounds strange, hollow somehow, in the cubicle. Tone flattened as the water hisses around us. 

Xander closes his eyes, and it takes him long enough to react, to respond, that I wonder if this is it. This is the moment where I've outstayed my welcome; missed the subtext that yes, Luka, it was time to leave a while back. And now he's going to have to be uncomfortably blunt about it, because you were completely oblivious.

Instead, though, when he looks at me again it's with a sort of dismay, not frustration. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... I'm just sorry, okay?" 

I nod at him, still not sure why Xander is apologizing when I was the one who apparently got him so annoyed. 

"It's okay," I tell him, hoping that I'm right. 

He takes a deep breath; sighs it out again. "I know we said we were just going to be... physical." I nod. "And I love being with you like that. Maybe... maybe too much."

I want to nod again, to make it easier for him. Take away whatever it is that has suddenly made Xander sad. The problem is that I just don't understand, not really. And I'm not sure if that's because I'm simply naive, blind to all this stuff, or because he hasn't told me everything to begin with. 

"I... like being with you too. A lot." 

It's not the question I want to ask, not the long list of them in fact, but that doesn't seem to matter. Xander seems to have decided to answer what he thinks he's hearing, maybe.

"The problem is I like it too much, Luka. As in, I like-like you. And that's the part which isn't meant to happen."

There's a lump in my throat, and it's there because I feel like he's building up to something I don't want him to say. Something that would be shaped like an ending.

"I can try harder... I'm sorry, I don't know what I... what I did."

He looks like I've just slapped him. 

"Luka, it's nothing you've done. It's... it's me. It's me wanting more, even though I know I'm not supposed to."

His hands have stilled on me, gently gripping each bicep. There's something about the forced proximity of the shower, though, that means we can't even look away. Even if that feels like it would be... kinder.

"Am I allowed to want more?" I ask him. The question feels precarious. Dangerous, even. 

Xander sighs. "It's not that simple."

Part of me wants to scream at him. To shout, to tell him that it can be that simple. That even if he's meant to be operating inside some weird, unusual agreement with his girlfriend, then maybe he can change the rules of that agreement. Reshape them, so that it doesn't always feel like he and I are dancing around something when we're together. 

The idea of him telling Lucy about us seemed hot at first. Exciting. Now it just feels... unfair. Like she gets to have all of Xander; physically and everything else, as well as what he and I do together, too. 

I can't say that, though. Don't think I'd dare to. 

"I'm sorry," I tell him, instead. 

His fingers slip up my arms, nudge through my wet hair. It's easy to lean into him, feel him press back against me. Xander's presence solid, tangible. And if someone else hears about this moment, is told the story of it, then that's something which happens later. For now, it's just the two of us. 

Kissing him feels easier than talking about it. 

More fun, too. Xander's hands already in place to pull my face to his; my own sliding around his waist, tugging our crotches together as he bites my bottom lip. Knowing that he'll be able to feel how I'm thickening against him, and seeing from his smirk that yes, that's the case. Then again, it's not like Xander is entirely soft, now, either. 

"We can just be physical," I insist. Recognizing the words again as I say them. Knowing his sigh, too. 

"Is that going to be enough?" 

It's an unfair question. One I'm not prepared for; one that would need me to know what the hell is going on here, going on with me. My boundaries and limits with another person, another guy. Because a week ago I was Luka hoping a girl, pretty much any girl, would pay attention to me, and now... 

Now, I'm not sure what Luka is hoping for. 

"I'll take whatever you can give to me," I say, finally, knowing as I hear it myself that it's the truth. 

I could leave him on the spot, I know. Wait for him to tell me exactly what that is, or isn't. And yet I can't bring myself to do it, to force an issue I blindly wandered into. 

Instead, I pointedly rub my crotch against his. The heft of his erection catching on my own. Grin, too, at the knowing smirk that's spreading across his face. 

"I can give you something now," Xander suggests, "if you think you can take it?" 

"Isn't it fun to see me try?" I counter. He chuckles, fingertips trailing down my wet flanks. 

"You mean we should try and find your limits?" He's flirting, I know, but it sounds like a challenge, too. One that makes my cock throb with anticipation. 

"So much talk," I chide him, lacing my arms around his neck, "but where's the action?" 

Xander curls his lip, amused, but before I can kiss that twist of his mouth he's lifting me. My back sliding against the tiles, his hands under my ass as my legs instinctively find their way around him. 

I can feel his dick nudging against me; my cheeks spread, hole exposed. Not that I have any intention of stopping him, when Xander reaches down to ease his tip into me. 

Gravity does the rest, my body slowly impaled on his thickness. Maybe it's the way my legs are folded around him, or the angle at which he's pressing me against the wall, but he feels deeper than ever. As though I've been skewered through, and short of begging him there's nothing I can do but wait to get fucked. 

"So tight," Xander purrs, as I feel his first, almost careful movements. Not so much pulling out of me, as merely shifting, but it's still enough to stretch and tug on my ass in ways that send lightning bolts through my spine. "You feel so fucking good."

I feel like, now, I should be able to say which I prefer. Fucking him or getting fucked by him, having experienced both. That feeling of being buried inside him, weighed against the sensation now, of him spreading me open as my body is forced to submit. 

Problem is, they both feel incredible. And, no matter how good it was to slam my hips against his ass and hear Xander whimper beneath me, that doesn't make me any less excited at the prospect of squealing, now, as he reams me open. 

I can lift myself, just a little, if I tense my arms around his neck. Raise myself an inch or two off his dick, only to drop myself onto him again and feel its bluntness stab through me again. Reveling in the way that he gasps as I do it, his fingers digging into the meat of my ass. 

"That's it, you little slut, ride my cock," Xander grunts, and the words make me shudder. Loving it when he taunts me, when I know that I've stepped far, far outside of Luka's comfort zone and into something else. Something animal and honest; my need for him, for the friction of him, rising past whatever veneer of polite restraint I might ordinarily be draped with. 

He's pulling at me, now, fingers not only braced underneath my ass to hold me in place but tugging at my hole, too. Stretching the tortured muscle as he plows me, the curl of his hips dragging him almost free. Until only the flared tip of him is still caught inside me, that pulling at me too, until he drops me back down onto him and I gasp as his whole length grinds home. 

"I should've known one load wouldn't be enough for you," Xander hisses, his smirk rich with lust, pupils wide. I lean my forehead against his; push my back against the shower wall to force him further into me. 

"I can still taste you," I tell him, voice hoarse. Groan a moment later as his lips latch onto mine, tongue pushing into my mouth as though he's determined to test the truth of my words. Not that I'm complaining, at the feeling of being so full with him at both ends. 

I'm trying to squeeze my hole around him, trying to remember how it felt when I fucked him, the things he did that made it feel so much more incredible. Gripping even tighter with my arms and legs, clinging to Xander's body as we shift against each other and my back slides against the tiles. My erection sandwiched between us, the friction of his abs scraping it but nowhere near enough to topple me over the edge. 

"Harder," I gasp, practically into his mouth as we kiss, then whimper as he takes me at my word. The hard, wet slap of his body against mine, loud even above the sound of the shower. My fingers pushing into the tangles of his hair, yanking back so that I can mash my lips against the smooth curve of his throat. My teeth scraping against his skin. 

"I love having you inside me." It's a pant, the words stuttering with his angry thrusts. Little else I can think about beyond the friction and the heat of him.

The last time he fucked me, my chest was against this wall. Now, it's my back to it, only Xander is doing it with my load still dripping down his legs, and it's that thought and the way the head of his cock is stabbing and sliding across my prostate that is making my brain spin so frantically. The grinding against my dick that moments ago was frustratingly insufficient now suddenly almost too much to handle, and I'm gripping him hard enough to bruise because I can feel the twist of my orgasm rushing toward me. Faster than I could ever have thought possible, too fast to warn him, to cry out.

Only a gasp, then, and the feeling of every muscle in my body clenching as I flood what little space there is between us with another load. 

"So fucking tight..." Xander groans as I clamp down on him, the friction suddenly cranked up until it's like I'm fighting to hold him inside me, and then I feel him swell and know he's breeding me. The same cock that was just filling my mouth now spewing cum inside me again, as my thighs threaten to cramp from the tension. 

"Fuck," he gasps, head slumping forward onto my shoulder. Fingers loosening their death-grip on me, our bodies shifting as I gingerly try supporting myself on weak, wobbling legs. Glad, for the moment, of his closeness, my arms still loosely hooked around his neck.

"Keep going like this, and you're gonna get me pregnant," I tease, lips murmuring close to his ear. Feel rather than see Xander's smile, his cheek twisting against my own. 

"You're the one who said no condom," he reminds me. 

"And you're the one who seems to get off on fucking me raw," I counter. Reach down, easing a finger tentatively around my hole. There's still half the expectation that I'll find myself wide open, spread obscenely after Xander's pounding. Instead my ass just feels soft and pliant, hardly any resistance at all as my careful digit slips inside. 

"Are you complaining?" I feel Xander's fingertips snaking down the back of my hand, hiss a moment later as his forefinger pushes into me alongside my own. He's being as gentle as I am, his teasing strokes almost caresses, but it's still blowing my mind. 

I make a noise of denial into the meat of his bicep, hoping that answers his question as words are momentarily beyond me. Just enjoying the closeness of him, the heat and weight of his body pressed to mine, and the sly churn of our hands as we toy with my hole. 

"We're meant to be getting clean," Xander points out, finally. I can hear the amusement in his voice, but zero regret. 

He's right, of course, even if there's something unspeakably appealing in just standing here forever. The tiles behind me as warm as my skin now, and his solidity shielding me from the reality of the world beyond. A world where there are decisions, and agreements, and rules we both have to abide by. Even if they're seeming all the more ridiculous by each passing day, each hour even.

"Just one minute more," I plead with him, hoping I can hide at least some of the sudden desperation from my voice. 

Xander chuckles. "I'll give you two," he offers, as I feel his second finger slide slowly into me. 

---

Huge thanks to everyone who has commented, shared, or rated this so far - I really love hearing what you think!

If Luka's exploration of his sexuality has you looking for more straight-boys-discover-gay-play tales, and you enjoy your erotica filled with ass-play, cum, college boy hookups, and some remote-control sex toys, then I think you'll like my story "Seven Days to Squirm" too...