1: The Foundation of Desire
The basement room smelled of sex—a mix of sweat, the sharp tang of poppers, and faint ammonia from J-Lube. Cooper watched Eli move across the rubber mats, gathering the silicone giants that had recently filled him with satisfaction.
Cooper joined Eli in the ritual of the aftermath: putting away poppers and lube, cleaning toys. He picked up a thick black silicone model, still warm and slick. Running his thumb over its smooth surface, a pang stirred in his chest. So much larger than any human cock. These were tools, not rivals.
Eli was a compact powerhouse. His 5’8” frame was built for endurance and pleasure, with a full chest and a slope to his back. His mixed Scots and Japanese heritage gave him a smooth, cool complexion beneath Cooper’s touch. His buzzed dark hair framed a face Cooper knew well—made for grabbing when things got rough. Soft-spoken, polite, someone others saw as cuddly—but beneath it, hunger and strength left Cooper breathless.
Cooper himself was different—tall and lean, olive skin kissed by the sun, dark hair dusting his chest and arms. He moved with quiet purpose, the kind of man who knew his own rhythm. His cock had satisfied dozens before Eli, and in their early days, Eli too.
Back then, Eli always came undone with Cooper inside him, a perfect fit of bodies and, with time, trust. Cooper had cherished the way Eli wrapped around him—the exquisite tightness, the moans coaxed from every thrust.
His husband’s intensity had evolved over the years—fingers first, then toys, ever larger, pushing boundaries Cooper hadn’t imagined. Their basement room had transformed into a gym built for that evolution: bands hanging from the ceiling, heavy-duty bins filled with toys designed to stretch Eli open, deeper and wider.
Cooper had always been put off by the idea of kink. It seemed performative and needy. But with Eli and his toys, there was none of the desperation he might have imagined. But Eli approached it like a sport, a test of athletic limits and a release so profound it left Cooper breathless watching. There was no neediness, just a fierce, focused drive.
He knew the intense climax Eli could reach when his second hole was entered—that deep bend between the rectum and sigmoid colon that Eli, a physical therapist, could explain in excruciating detail.
When it was breached it put Eli into a primal pleasure beyond anything Cooper had ever seen in the men he’d fucked or even himself. He couldn’t even resent it—how could Eli access that level of bliss and not pursue it?
Cooper watched Eli with a quiet ache he rarely voiced. Eli’s body was a landscape of extremes—every inch sculpted for endurance and pleasure, a capacity that seemed almost limitless. And then there was Cooper—seven serviceable inches, solid and dependable, but far from the wild expanses Eli could take.
Sometimes Cooper wondered if Eli’s capacity for something bigger was wasted on him, given his ordinary proportions. Not because Cooper didn’t try, but because his strength lay elsewhere—in quiet moments, soft touches, the emotional thread between them.
He was the anchor, the steady hand, craving connection as deeply as Eli craved release. Maybe, he hoped, that was enough.
But in the stillness, Cooper felt the weight of that unspoken contrast—a gulf between bodies and desires, bridged only by trust and the hope that what he gave Eli was enough to fill the spaces size could not.
Eli peeled off his lube-slick jock, tossing it in the laundry, his preferred armor for these sessions—keeping his cock contained, focused on being open to receive. Cooper watched him shower, skin glistening, the small ritual of lotioning his body. Even then, Cooper’s mind lingered on the thought: Eli could take more.
Eli caught his eyes, a spark of knowing. “What are you thinking?”
Cooper smiled, the quiet wish curling inside him. To meet Eli’s capacity—alone, he couldn’t. But the yearning was there, a shadow beneath their otherwise full life together.
2: The Idea Takes Root
The next morning, the thought lingered as Cooper headed to the gym. The clang of weights and measured breaths set a steady rhythm beneath his swirling thoughts. Midway through his cool-down, muscles still buzzing, he went to the showers.
Around him, figures moved like shadows—except one who stood out.
Ty. A guy Cooper had gotten friendly with. Their greetings started as nods, then a few words between sets—shared grimaces over tough lifts, jokes about spouses and work. Cooper liked him.
Ty was solid—not Eli’s supple muscle, but thick and sturdy. Warm eyes, easy smile. Cooper had noticed Ty was well-endowed—he’d seen him pretty boned after workout, as he was now.
Cooper guessed he might be nearly a foot long when fully hard. Roughly the size of Eli’s starting toy, a world apart from Cooper’s steady seven inches, enough for most but not built for Eli’s appetite. Eli would feel a cock like Ty’s but could take it with practiced ease.
Cooper’s mind, still buzzing from Eli’s capacity the night before, made the connection instantly. Before he fully processed it, words slipped out.
“That’s quite the package you’re carrying,” he said, casual admiration in his tone.
Ty turned, a little surprised—shy but proud. “Yeah,” he sighed, frustration softening his voice. “It’s kind of a problem. My boyfriend’s great, but… he can’t take all of it. I have to hold back. It’s tough, y’know? Never just getting to go for it.”
Cooper steadied himself, trying to phrase it right—friendly, not desperate. “Must be frustrating, holding back like that. You know, my husband Eli? He’s built for size. Loves getting pushed to his limits. I can only do so much.” His eyes dropped to his own stiffening erection. “We use some serious toys.” He let the implication hang.
Ty’s eyes flickered with curiosity. “Built guy? Nice chest?” He raised hand to approximate Eli’s height.
Cooper nodded. “That’s him.”
Cooper thought he could see Ty envision Eli—maybe picturing him taking one of those serious toys.
He leaned in, voice low. “This might sound out there—but if you’re ever looking for a safe, no-strings way to really let loose… if it fits your relationship… we could help each other out. Mutual pleasure. No expectations beyond that night.”
Ty stared, surprise on his face. He considered it for a long moment, a flicker of unfolding in his eyes. Then a slow grin spread. “Are you serious? I think I’d like that. Thanks, man.”
They exchanged numbers, a silent understanding passing between them.
That evening, Cooper brought it up with Eli. He recounted the gym encounter, watching Eli’s eyes widen with surprise and curiosity.
“Black guy? Pretty built? Shaved head?”
Cooper smiled. “Yeah. That’s Ty. Solid guy. Good energy.”
“A guy who has to hold back?” Eli murmured, a twitch at the corner of his mouth.
“Exactly,” Cooper said, reaching for Eli’s hand. “Someone whose problem is your gift.” Silence settled. “But if we do it, it’s for us. Your pleasure, my pleasure watching you, and something we can give him. Condoms mandatory. No strings, no expectations. If you’re uncomfortable, we stop. No questions. And I’m there.”
Eli squeezed his hand, face flushing. “Yeah. I trust you. I’m in.”
3: The Revelation
The basement sex room hummed with a different energy that evening. The thump of house beat throbbed faintly; the heaviest-duty lube gleamed, set on mats beside neatly folded towels.
Eli had spent hours preparing—the deep cleansing of his internal passage, a time consuming ritual. The kind of disciplined preparation you’d expect from a physical therapist, someone intimately familiar with the body's resilience and capacity.
He wore only a jock strap, faint body hair trimmed, buzzed hair damp. Cooper felt a familiar hum of arousal as Eli’s body flexed in anticipation.
When the doorbell chimed, a thrill shot through Cooper. Ty stood on the porch, eyes locking with Cooper’s in curiosity and hope. Cooper smiled. “Come on in. Eli’s downstairs.” He looked him over. “Glad you could come.”
The moment they entered the sex room, Ty’s gaze locked on Eli, already on his knees, facing the wall mirror. Ty’s eyes widened, drinking in Eli’s compact, sculpted physique—the creamy skin, curve of his firm belly, the dip of back—his warm grin. “Damn. You’re more built than I pictured.”
The air thickened. Cooper handed Ty a condom. “Just to be safe.” His hand found Eli’s shoulder—silent support.
Ty nodded, throat working. He was already hard, a formidable shaft pressing fabric. He stripped efficiently, stepping out of jeans.
Cooper knelt beside Eli, taking a long rubber syringe filled with lube. He slid it in, pushing, and Eli gasped as his entry welcomed the cool preparation.
Cooper moved aside for Ty to take his place behind Eli, sheathed cock pulsing in hand, eyes scanning Eli’s smooth build and cleft. Cooper slicked Eli’s entrance generously, massaging the ring of muscle, building anticipation.
Ty pressed his head gently against Eli’s opening. Eli took a hit from poppers, the sharp chemical scent filling his nostrils, helping his body ease for the initial stretch.
Ty began the slow push. The head slipped past the muscle knot, then the thick shaft followed, like a slow train.
“Tell me if this is too much,” he murmured.
Eli inhaled as the erection slid in—a new shape in familiar channels, his body already responding to the growing pressure. “No. More. Please.”
Ty’s eyes squeezed shut, a low growl as he sank deep. “Holy shit,” he muttered, amazement in his voice as Eli’s passage swallowed him, warm and slick.
He moved less hesitantly, maybe overcoming his conditioning, testing how hard and deep he could go, building rhythm with every thrust. His hands rested on Eli’s back, running down the V to slim hips.
“That’s it,” Cooper heard himself say, distant. “You don’t have to hold back. He can take it.” He almost whimpered at his own words.
His cock throbbed against his fly. Cooper watched the tension etched on Ty’s face melt into relief and pleasure. “Holy fuck,” he groaned, laughing as Ty pounded harder, seeing Eli take it.
Without words, Ty leaned his weight onto Eli, pressing him down onto his belly, ass hiked up—in surrender. “Oh yeah,” he said, hands on Eli’s, building a long, slow grind, relishing going balls deep in another man’s ass.
Ty dipped his head as if for a kiss, but Cooper’s hand rose, guiding Ty’s face to Eli’s shoulder. Ty’s breath caught, but he complied, adjusting his focus to the deep drives into Eli’s rear, rising and pulling Eli up by the hips, never sliding out as Cooper’s breath caught.
Cooper unzipped and unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them down his thighs, freeing his heavy cock. His eyes roamed on Eli’s back, tensing and releasing, Ty’s hands clutching hips, thrusting faster and harder.
Cooper crouched at Eli’s front, seeing his face—flushed, breathing through mouth—as Ty slammed into him. The cock inside wasn’t near Eli’s limits—but the force, the realness of a man rather than a toy, taking his hole for his own pleasure—that was something else.
Cooper knew the signs—the moans, gasps, Eli’s back arching, hips pushing back, taking every stroke. Ty must be nearing Eli’s second hole—if not broaching it.
“That’s it,” Cooper said. “You’re getting him off.”
Eli reached for Cooper, instinctively pulling him close to press an eager, open-mouthed kiss. His strong arm wrapped tight around Cooper’s neck, anchoring him in the intensity of the moment.
Cooper lifted the poppers bottle to Eli’s face for another hit, opening him more. He worked his own cock as Eli buried his sweating face in his neck. Then the telltale sign—Eli freed his leaking cock to stroke it.
Ty groaned, release building, thrusting harder, face contorted in relief. A primal sound rose as he came, emptying inside Eli with a force Cooper guessed he’d never allowed himself before.
Eli groaned, “FUCK,” body clenching around Ty’s size, pleasure rising as sweat beaded on muscles—back, chest, arms straining against Cooper—riding out climax, shooting his load on the mats beneath him.
Cooper quivered and came almost before he realized, hot white jet spraying up against Eli, surging over his pumping fist as he clutched his husband while tremors peaked and faded.
Ty slowly pulled out, cum-filled latex slick with lube. He peeled off the condom and collapsed on the mat, chest heaving. He looked dazed—sated. “Oh my God,” he whispered. “That was intense.”
He gently stroked Eli’s thigh with a newfound affection, then looked at Cooper. “Thank you for sharing him,” he murmured, voice thick.
Cooper helped gather Ty’s things. The goodbye was brief, respectful—a quiet understanding: this was good—but they wouldn’t do it again.
When the door clicked shut, Cooper returned to Eli, already putting towels and jock in the laundry, amidst the lingering scent.
He wrapped his hands around Eli’s waist, resting his head against him.
Witnessing Eli’s satisfaction and Ty’s unburdened pleasure solidified everything. This wasn’t just okay. This was a gift, given and received.
“Everything you hoped?” Cooper murmured.
Eli nodded. “More. The force. The… gratitude.” He turned to face Cooper. “If we do this again… we could set clearer expectations. And… I want you more… involved.”
“Consider it done.” Cooper grinned, pulling Eli closer, their lips meeting.
4: The Expanding Circle
Eli said “if,” but after their first time with Ty, the idea of doing it again settled into Cooper and Eli, a charged undercurrent running beneath the surface of their daily lives.
Their agreements evolved. Safety was still paramount: condoms mandatory. Either could say no if things felt off. Their own sex would continue between guests, but in the lead up to a visitor, Eli would skip his biggest toys, wanting his body to really feel the impact of an unrestrained, natural cock.
“On my knees or belly only,” Eli said. “We only kiss each other. I want you to choose. I don’t… want you to ask. I trust you.” That was its own surrender, and one that rooted deep in Cooper’s heart. When he asked if he was sure, Eli laughed softly. “You’ve done great so far.”
Cooper put his Communications Director skills to work, carefully and deliberately recruiting. He wasn’t just hunting size, but a deeper fit—for Eli, for himself—for them.
He crafted posts for forums, sifting through threads where men shared the quiet frustrations of size, the need to hold back. His own messages were precise: “Committed couple (he’s a gifted bottom with immense capacity) offering a safe space for men who rarely get to truly unleash their full size. Seeking those who understand the problem of holding back and would appreciate the freedom to go all out. Condoms required. Not negotiable.”
He scrolled past the sensational profiles—men who showed off their enormous cocks, sought after by power-bottoms. They felt like performances, not what Eli and Cooper were after.
Instead, he looked for good looking men with remarkable endowments, but otherwise ordinary guys, not in the scene—the rare few who might truly appreciate the experience of being invited into their lives.
Sometimes he shared discreet pics, knowing Eli wasn’t the only bottom who could take a big cock—but there was something about Eli’s wholesome face and sculpted form, and Cooper’s steady presence made them an appealing package for the right guy.
Their second guest was David. An attorney, older than Ty, with a thicker cock. Calm, confident, he arrived from a nearby suburb. He wore cedarwood cologne and adjusted his collar with quiet precision, hinting at a life that valued order and precision. When Cooper let him in, David said, “I’ve never done this before.”
He fell, stiffly, into a warm welcoming hug in Cooper’s arms. “Thanks for joining us.”
But his reserve faded in the powerful driving force of his thrusts, pausing briefly between each, as if assessing the reality of Eli’s body stretching to take him—his groans of “Fuck yeah—fuck me,” urging the guest on.
He took a hit of poppers after Cooper held the bottle for Eli. He moaned on his next deep thrust, face twisting as he bucked and came, shuddering.
Cooper’s mouth found Eli’s, tasting his husband’s gasps as he jerked himself, with David’s girth still buried in him. Eli came gloriously, with loud groans and Cooper followed moments later, intoxicated by the tensing of his husband’s body, and his ultimate release.
David leaned down and kissed Eli’s forehead, and then later, as he left, he turned to Cooper and clapped him gently on the shoulder. “Thank you for this,” he murmured.
They quickly learned “going all out” meant different things to different guests. Ty liked a slow grind at his full length. David something else. Then there was Carlos.
Carlos, was younger, a bigger, beefier guy—a cop with full sleeve tattoos on his thick arms. He seemed to relish pushing Eli, testing his stamina and adaptability, driving into him from different angles, drawing his immense length out and then slamming into Eli’s depths again, driving relentlessly against his guts.
Not a problem for Eli.
During one especially hard thrust, Eli slid down, taking Cooper’s hard cock in his mouth. He sucked with practiced skill, real and open, his mouth working as Carlos fucked him from behind. Rather than distracting, the pummeling in his ass seemed to coax him to take Cooper deeper in his throat than he had before.
Eli’s guttural sounds were muffled by Cooper’s cock in his mouth, even as Carlos pounded hard and deep behind him. When Carlos cupped Eli’s tits, the cop delivered a hard thrust and shuddered, his hips pumping out a hot, thick gush in the condom inside Eli.
Even with a condom, the thought of Carlos shooting in Eli’s deepest recesses stirred something primal in Cooper—he filled his husband’s mouth and throat with cum, climaxing as Carlos’s waned. Eli trembled, shooting his own load, Cooper’s taste lingering in his mouth.
Carlos pulled out, catching his breath. His heavy cock withdrew with a wet slurp, hitting the floor with a soft thump. He rubbed Eli’s neck, a tender gesture that clashed with his rough exterior. “You’re tougher than you look.”
Eli sighed on Cooper’s shoulder, spent but glowing. Victorious. “He was incredible,” Eli murmured. “He really pushed me.” It was the kind of thing he once only said about how Cooper opened him with his toys, taking him to his limits.
Eli wanted Cooper more involved, but Cooper knew his sweet spot was in his role as the architect of his husband’s pleasure. Too much direct participation, being too in the mix between Eli and a guest felt too raw, provoked feelings too intense. He needed the distance to appreciate Eli’s pleasure and the guest’s liberation. He relished Eli’s anchor, witness and loving partner at the edge of the storm of sensation.
One guest—Bobby—showed that even with careful vetting, not every connection would be perfect. Bobby was undeniably huge and eager, but insisted on going bare. Cooper’s voice was steady but firm. “Condoms only. No exceptions.” He met Bobby’s eyes, clear and steady, letting him know this wasn’t negotiable..
Bobby grumbled but used a condom. Cooper stayed close, keeping a watchful eye. If Bobby faltered, Cooper was ready to stop everything. Boundaries like this weren’t just rules—they were a trust with Eli, and Cooper wouldn’t allow that to be violated for anything.
After climaxing deep in Eli—in a condom—Bobby didn’t offer the same warm thanks, or seek out Cooper’s eyes. Not a crisis, but a quiet confirmation that the “deserving” aspect mattered. Cooper and Eli saw it clearly: size alone wasn’t enough.
After Bobby left, they showered, warm water washing away the evidence of their guest. Cooper’s hands, so recently guiding a giant cock to his hole, now ran a washcloth over Eli’s smooth skin—across shoulders, down his spine to the worked ring. In bed, they debriefed.
Eli traced a finger over the long muscles in Cooper’s arm. “As problematic as Bobby was, he had a point… with the condom, there’s still that barrier. A different kind of holding back.”
Cooper’s heart beat harder. “Yeah.” The thought of strange men mounting Eli, fucking their cum into his husband intruded. “It… turns me on. To be honest.” He swallowed, voice low. “But it’s also scary. Like… giving up something only we had.”
“You’re right,” Eli replied, squeezing his hand.
But since Eli suggested it—must want it—Cooper regrouped. “Maybe… for the right guy. Someone we trust.”
They agreed Eli should start PrEP, and Cooper would as well—to share the experience, more than for safety.
And for highly vetted guests—those who truly fit the “deserving” criteria and could provide recent, comprehensive STI test results—they would consider lifting the condom requirement. Cooper’s choice.
They held the moment—desire and fear tangling quietly between them.
5: The True Capacity
Cooper shifted his search—not just for the biggest, but for the man who truly deserved a chance to breed Eli’s hole.
Then he found Omar. His messages carried a quiet, honest longing—to share his body without causing pain, without hesitation. Not a freak or kink, but a man worthy of respect and connection. Cooper sensed a sincerity that stood out and reached out carefully, telling him he wanted to give him something safe and meaningful. After a clean STI panel and thorough vetting, this was the one. The first bareback—the first, besides Cooper, to shoot into Eli.
The basement sex room was prepared, and so was Eli—the painstaking cleansing out, a meticulous ritual not just for hygiene, but to give the smoothest, most yielding passage for his guest's pleasure.
When Omar arrived, Cooper’s eyes widened. More than an exceptional cock. Photos didn’t capture how his dark, velvet skin caught the light, or the power of his shoulders, the stone-carved torso. Not the eyes of a man with his own story.
Cooper prepped Eli with slicked fingers, then stepped aside, for the guest to take his place. Omar rested hands on Eli’s muscled back, the skin pale beneath Omar’s. Eli eased into his touch, arched his back, neck rolling, offering his hole.
The first inches pressed in, easy enough. Then, as Omar persisted, his full length pressing in, Eli gasped, shifting instinctively, pulling away from the intrusion. But Omar caught him firmly by the hips, drawing him back, deepening the penetration. “Where you going, baby? Don’t move. I got you right here.”
Cooper felt something coil in him as Eli took a hit of poppers and Omar pushed deeper. After stretching Eli wider than any man before, Omar’s voice broke the quiet, rough and strained. “That’s the hardest part,” he said, patting Eli’s ass. “The worst of it.”
Omar started a slow fuck that grew faster and harder. The only sounds were Eli’s groans and slapping flesh as Omar’s thrusts slammed into him. Cooper stroked his own cock watching his husband’s body arch, muscles gripped tight as he swayed under Omar’s pounding.
Omar grew more familiar, hands roaming Eli’s neck and sides, the supple muscle of his back. “Turn around baby, I need to see all of you,” he said, turning Eli at his waist. Cooper lurched forward, shook his head. No.
Omar waited, then nodded, accepting the boundary. Eli’s knee dropped to the mat and Omar doubled down into a hard rear fuck. His epic cock drove deep groans of “Fucccck” out of Eli, as sweat streaked off him onto the mat.
Cooper knew Eli’s second hole wasn’t just grazed—it was breached with every thrust. Omar pressed deep, stirring a raw ecstasy in Eli no other man had tapped with just his cock.
Cooper’s chest tightened, tangled longing and something else he tried to reject, push away. He swallowed the ache—the knowledge that he could never give Eli that fullness with just his own body. Taking a steadying breath, he leaned close, voice low, his touch soothing. “Good boy. You’re doing so well.”
He crouched low to touch Eli’s face, to see the pleasure building in his eyes. He uncapped the poppers and held it to Eli’s nose. Eli’s eyes fluttered as the world blurred. His shoulders dropped to the mat, everything in him relaxing, opening for the deepest intrusion.
“Fuck me,” he groaned, raw.
Omar’s face tightened, sweat pouring down his face as he knotted deep inside Eli. With a rough groan, he unleashed a powerful load, each thrust driving so deep that Eli nearly dropped as Omar filled his innermost recess with his hot, heavy release.
Though Eli’s cock stayed buried in his jock pouch, the pressure of Omar’s climax in him forced an intense, shuddering orgasm through him. Eli’s own cock spurted inside the snug pouch, slick and pulsing, untouched by any hand.
Eli had always trusted Cooper’s hands and toys to push him to that edge—but to see another man pumping cum into his second hole, fucking a load out of him into his jock—that was different. It unsettled Cooper, a sharp twist of longing and protectiveness quickening his pulse.
Omar slowly withdrew from Eli’s battered guts with a wet suction, a satisfying splat of cum and lube hit the rubber mat below. He sat back, his cock glistening.
“Thank you for taking all of me, baby,” he said softly, hand on Eli’s damp back. “That was everything.”
After the door closed behind Omar, Cooper dropped to the mat beside Eli, tracing lazy patterns in his husband’s sweat. “That was incredible.”
He hadn’t cum, and a restlessness pulsed beneath his skin—a sharp contrast to Eli’s sated calm, and to the unshakeable awareness of Omar’s power to get Eli off with just his cock.
Eli stirred, eyes glazed, as if surfacing from deep water. He propped himself up on an elbow, muscles slack but steady. Cooper hesitated. Eli reached for Cooper’s wrist, thumb digging in, pulling him close. “What about you?” he asked, hoarse.
Cooper fumbled for words. “You know I love to watch you…”
Usually, Eli needed downtime after cumming—especially after a fuck like Omar’s, his insides worn, stretched. But now, he rasped, “Fuck me.” A raw invitation.
“I can jerk off…” Cooper started, but his cock throbbed at the thought—sliding into Eli’s cum-slick bowel, reclaiming the space Omar had vacated.
“Fuck me,” Eli urged again, more tense this time, legs drawing back.
Cooper pushed in, Omar’s slick still easing the way. Eli winced, a sharp breath through his teeth, but his hands locked on Cooper’s hips, holding him steady as he filled that well-used passage. Eli’s body tensed, muscles clenching, then loosening as he adjusted.
“Fuck me,” Eli grimaced, voice low. “You know how to push me.”
Cooper set a brutal pace, Eli’s legs locking around him, face to face, soft grunts breaking from Eli with every stroke. Cooper’s cock drove deep, then nearly all the way out, slick and relentless, Eli gripping him each time he thrust back in.
Not easy on Eli—but this was the test of true capacity. Not just depth, but how much he’d take, how much he’d give for Cooper.
Eli took a hit of poppers and passed the bottle to Cooper. His face flushed, eyes fluttered as the strain in his face faded into heat.
“There you go,” Cooper rasped, “right where I need you.” He slammed into Eli, hard, using him—Eli’s body wide open, taking everything Cooper could give.
Then Cooper saw Eli’s cock, pulled free from his cum- and lube-soiled jock pouch, spent but already getting hard again. That sight lit something wild in Cooper—the proof of Eli’s body reaching for more. He fucked even harder, every thrust rougher, charging them both to the limit.
He took a hit, the heady feeling intensifying. Eli pulled him closer, their lips meeting. His husband’s low grunts, the total surrender of his body, spurred Cooper to his own edge.
When Cooper came, Eli’s insides felt like silk.
END
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