Jesse had always known what he wanted.
Older men.
Thick hands. Deep voices. Men who moved with certainty, who spoke like they knew how to be obeyed. Men who could pull him close with a look — and keep him there with a grip on his waist.
He wanted to be seen. Wanted to be taken. But more than that, he wanted to be wanted — fully, hungrily, without shame.
And from the first time it happened, he’d been lucky. Every man he gave himself to had honored that unspoken need. Respected him. Touched him like he mattered.
There had been five before Professors Hale and Trent. Five men who helped shape his desires, gently cracked open his shame, and praised the parts of him no one else had. Most were short-lived. One was a memory that still haunted his dreams.
Jesse still thought about their voices sometimes. The pressure of their hands. Not out of longing — but because they’d left marks. And Jesse loved being marked.
Story Characters:
- Jesse – 21 years old in this chapter (24 in the present)
- Andrew Cross – 48, Jesse’s former principal.
Chapter 2: The First Man
Jesse had never belonged in a place like this.
The bass was too loud. The lights too sharp. Bodies moved in waves across the dance floor — grinding, sweating, reaching — all of them more confident, more sculpted, more wanted than he felt.
He wasn’t like them.
He wasn’t lean, wasn’t sharp-jawed, wasn’t carved in muscle. The shirt he wore clung too tightly to his chest — the part of him he hated the most. He was not the kind that turned heads in places like this. He saw it in the way people passed over him. In how the glances skipped his face, slid down his body, then moved on.
Try anyway, he had told himself.
He came to the club with the idea that tonight, maybe, he’d prove something. That someone would want him. That he’d finally be brave enough to give himself away. His cock had been aching for weeks, his heart longer. The idea of an older man — someone who knew what he was doing, someone who could handle him — haunted his fantasies, but felt too far off.
So Jesse had shown up. Alone. Drinking too fast, not dancing at all, and pretending he belonged.
And then he felt it, someone was watching him.
At first it felt nice — the attention he’d craved — until it didn’t. A man, maybe early-thirties, started edging closer. Too fast. Too direct. Leather harness. Thick arms. Eyes that lingered too long. Smile that didn’t reach them.
“You look like a good boy,” the man said, stepping up behind Jesse at the edge of the dance floor, breath warm against his ear. “Get on the floor with me.”
Jesse turned, blinking slow. The room tilted slightly. “Oh, I’m—no, I’m good, thanks—”
“You sure?” the man said, louder now, voice dipping into something coaxing. His hand slid low on Jesse’s back, fingers spreading, creeping toward his ass. “You’re too pretty to be by yourself. Not safe.”
He leaned in like he might whisper something worse.
Jesse’s heart jumped. He staggered back—straight into someone.
Another body. Bigger. Harder. Warmer.
The man’s hand disappeared instantly.
The man Jesse had stumbled into must’ve caught what was happening — a look, a word, something — and decided to intervene without hesitation.
He was older. Late 40s. Broad and heavy through the chest and belly — not soft, but thick with the weight of years. Built like someone who used to be all muscle and still held the strength beneath the bulk. His dark dress shirt was open at the collar, chest hair visible, beard trimmed but coarse, salt-and-pepper along the jaw. His eyes — cool, steel blue — locked onto the man with calm threat.
“He said he’s good,” the older man said, voice deep, rough-edged.
The creep weighed his odds, gave a tight smile, and walked off without another word.
Jesse turned slowly, trying to steady himself.
“Thanks…” he muttered. “That guy was weird..”
“I noticed,” the older man said, glancing once more in the direction the creep had gone. “You alright?”
“Yeah, I’m…” Jesse trailed off, blinking up at him. His brow creased slowly. Something about the man's eyes. The voice. The shape of his mouth. “Wait… Principal Cross?”
The man stilled. His expression shifted—surprise flickering across it, then recognition settling in.
He huffed a quiet laugh. “No one’s called me that in a while.” Then, softer, “Jesse?”
Jesse gave a crooked smile. “So it is you.”
“Yeah,” the man said, then smiled. “Andrew now. Or still. Depending on who you ask.”
“You look… different.”
Andrew chuckled. “I am different. Retired the ties. Let myself go soft.” He gave his stomach a light pat, half a joke. “But I remember you — Always kind of quiet… messy hair, always watching more than talking.”
Jesse let out a short, breathy laugh — but it caught in his throat as the room tilted beneath him. He reached back blindly, hand catching the bar rail for balance.
Andrew’s hand was already there, steadying him with one broad palm against his back.
“You’re drunk,” he said quietly.
“Not—like, dangerously, just…”
“Let me drive you home.”
Jesse shook his head, or tried to. “I can call—”
“Let me help,” Andrew said, voice firmer now, though still kind. “I was about to leave anyway. And I’d rather not risk that creep circling back.”
Jesse looked at him.
The size. The steadiness. The warmth. The beard and chest and voice that sounded like command and kindness wrapped together.
He nodded.
“Deal.”
The car was too quiet at first.
Not awkward — just thick with everything unspoken.
Andrew kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the gearshift, eyes focused ahead. His chest filled the button-down like it had been tailored to hug him just so — thick arms flexing lightly with every turn. The soft orange light from the dashboard painted the edges of his beard, lit the silver strands like threads of fire.
Jesse sat slouched in the passenger seat, blinking slowly, head lolling toward the window. The world outside blurred by — neon signs, dark trees, empty sidewalks.
He felt warm. Not just from the alcohol, but from him.
From the way Andrew had guided him into the car without judgment. The way he’d held the door open and adjusted the seatbelt like it wasn’t a big deal. The way he smelled — masculine, faintly woodsy.
“You alright?” Andrew asked, his voice a soft rumble.
“Mm-hm,” Jesse murmured.
A pause.
“You remember your address?”
Jesse rattled it off automatically, and Andrew nodded.
“Not far. Just relax.”
The hum of the road returned.
Jesse glanced over.
“Didn’t expect to see you in a place like that,” he said softly.
Andrew smiled faintly. “Didn’t expect to see you there either.”
“Are you… like…”
Andrew let him trail off.
“I don’t chase parties,” he said after a beat. “I just wanted to hear music. Have a drink. Maybe remember what it was like to be young and stupid.”
Jesse smiled sleepily. “You don’t look stupid.”
Andrew chuckled, eyes still on the road. “You don’t look drunk.”
“Liar,” Jesse said, flopping his head to the side, facing him. “I look like shit.”
“You look flushed. But not like shit.”
When they pulled up to Jesse’s building, Andrew got out first. Opened the door. Helped Jesse up by the arm.
Jesse leaned against him without thinking.
God, he was solid. A mountain of warmth and strength and quiet.
He held Jesse gently around the waist.
“I can walk,” Jesse mumbled. “Sort of.”
Andrew’s hand stayed where it was. “I’m not rushing you.”
They made it to the front door. Jesse fumbled with his keys. Missed twice.
“You want me to—”
“No, I’ve got it—”
The door clicked open beneath Jesse’s shaky hand, and the dark hush of his apartment welcomed them with silence and still air.
He stepped inside unsteadily, turned on the lamp near the door — soft light blooming over a small, clean space. Worn couch. Stacked books. Unwashed dishes. The realness of it hit him hard.
When he turned, Andrew was still standing on the threshold.
He hadn’t moved.
“Thank you for driving me,” Jesse said softly, leaning against the wall for balance. “Seriously.”
Andrew gave a small nod, hands in his pockets.
But didn’t follow.
Jesse blinked. “You’re not… coming in?”
Andrew’s mouth pulled into a wry half-smile. “I think you’re safe now. That was the deal.”
“But I don’t—” Jesse started, then stopped. His voice cracked. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”
Andrew’s face changed.
Not softened. Just… studied him more closely.
“You’re still flushed,” he said. “Still swaying.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure you will,” Andrew replied. “But this... isn’t something I make a habit of, Jesse.”
“I’m not trying to—” Jesse flushed deeper. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just... I need someone to talk to. Just for a little while.”
Andrew hesitated.
“Please,” Jesse said. “Just for a bit. You can leave whenever.”
The silence between them stretched.
Then Andrew exhaled, deeply.
“Ten minutes,” he said. “No more. I want to make sure you don’t fall and crack your skull.”
Jesse smiled faintly. “Deal.”
Andrew stepped inside. And the air shifted.
Not charged. Not heated.
Just… safe.
The couch sagged a little when Jesse dropped onto it, slouched into one corner, his legs folding under him like his whole body was trying to disappear. He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead and exhaled.
Andrew didn’t sit immediately. He hovered near the wall, scanning the space. Small, tidy. Books on the shelf. A mug half-finished on the side table. Fragments of a life Jesse was still trying to build.
“Water?” Andrew asked.
“Kitchen’s through there,” Jesse murmured, pointing.
Andrew nodded and disappeared for a moment. The sound of the tap running, then a glass filled. He returned and handed it to Jesse.
Jesse took it gratefully. “Thanks.”
The water helped. It didn’t fix the fog behind Jesse’s eyes, or the pit in his stomach, but it brought him back from the edge — sip by slow sip, his head stopped spinning, and his limbs began to feel like they were attached again.
Andrew Cross watched him quietly from the other end of the couch. Not hovering. Not pressing. Just… present.
When Jesse leaned back and closed his eyes, Andrew reached over to the side table and nudged the glass back into his hands.
“You need more,” he said gently.
Jesse blinked. “You gonna make me chug it?”
“I could,” Andrew said, voice gruff but calm. “But I’d rather not play nurse and undertaker in the same night.”
Jesse let out a tired laugh. “Fair.”
More sips. The dull pressure in his skull began to ease.
Andrew stood and moved toward the kitchen. Jesse heard the faint sound of drawers opening, cabinets shifting, then the dull whirrr of his electric kettle.
“You’re making tea?”
“Ginger,” Andrew called back. “For your stomach.”
“You are weirdly prepared for this.”
“I’ve helped enough people puke into bushes after retirement parties. You learn things.”
Jesse smiled to himself. Warmth spread in his chest, and it wasn’t from the liquor.
By the time Andrew returned, mug in hand, Jesse was sitting upright. More alert. Face flushed, but no longer dazed.
“Try to drink all of this,” Andrew said, handing it over.
“You’re a surprisingly good babysitter,” Jesse muttered, taking the mug. “Is that what you used to do in high school, too? Rescue the weird ones?”
Andrew didn’t sit again immediately. He stood for a moment, studying Jesse’s face.
Then, softly: “You’re not weird.”
Jesse looked up.
“You were quiet. Smart. Different. But never weird.” Andrew said.
That sat between them for a beat.
Then Andrew lowered himself back into the opposite end of the couch.
“You’re definitely more lucid now,” he said.
Jesse sipped the tea. “Yeah. Sorry about earlier. I must’ve been a mess.”
“You were a mess,” Andrew said plainly. “But you’re not now. That’s what matters.”
Silence stretched out again — more comfortable now.
Then Jesse looked up.
“Did you ever… wonder about me? Back then?”
Andrew blinked. “Jesse—”
“I’m not asking to start anything,” Jesse said quickly. “I just… I’ve had this image of you in my head since senior year. I didn’t even understand it then.”
Andrew leaned back slowly, one arm resting along the back of the couch. He didn’t speak immediately.
“I wondered,” he said eventually. “Yes. But wondering is all I did.”
“I know,” Jesse whispered. “That’s why I’m saying this now.”
Another pause. The tea in Jesse’s hands was still warm, still fragrant. His head was clear now. Steady.
“I came to that club tonight because I wanted to feel brave,” he said. “I wanted someone to want me. But now I’m sitting here… and I think I’d rather be wanted by you than anyone else.”
Andrew’s hand flexed slightly on the back of the couch.
“I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
“You’re not,” Jesse said. “I’m choosing this. Not because I’m drunk. Not because I’m lonely. Because I want to.”
A long breath.
“You can go.” Jesse added, softer now. “Or you can stay. And I can show you how much this means to me.”
Andrew turned toward him, gaze firm but unreadable.
Then, with slow deliberation, he lifted one arm — and held it out.
Jesse scooted across the couch, into the curve of that arm, into that broad chest.
And Andrew wrapped him up.
Strong. Hairy. Warm.
Jesse straddled Andrew’s lap on the couch, thighs pressed against thick denim, his breath already shaky. The older man’s arms circled him loosely, one palm resting at the base of his back, the other at his thigh.
And for the first time, they kiss. Their mouths were locked — open, wet, tongues slow and unhurried. Jesse’s fingers curled into Andrew’s beard, tugging softly.
The first moan Jesse made was quiet. Just the tiniest gasp into Andrew’s mouth as their bodies started to grind, his cock trapped against Andrew’s belly, hard and aching.
Then Jesse pulled back, eyes lidded.
“You like me like this, don’t you?” he whispered, lowering his voice into something porn-slick and practiced. “Grinding on your thick, hairy cock like a little slut?”
Andrew blinked once. Didn’t answer.
Jesse reached between them, pressing his palm to the bulge in Andrew’s jeans.
“I’ve been thinking about this cock all night,” Jesse said, breath hitching. “You want me to ride it, Daddy?”
He smirked — trying to channel something he’d seen online. Trying to be sexy.
He leaned in, mouth close to Andrew’s ear. “You want to ruin me, don’t you?”
He was trying. Hard. Lines he’d heard online. Stuff that got thousands of likes. The kind of dirty talk that usually worked — or at least looked like it did.
But it wasn’t landing.
Andrew didn’t smirk. Didn’t growl. He didn’t even put his hands on him.
Instead, Andrew tilted his head, eyes searching.
“You trying to convince me,” he said quietly, “or yourself?”
Jesse froze. The room was suddenly too quiet.
Andrew reached up and ran his thumb down Jesse’s flushed cheek. “You don’t have to be anyone else, Jesse. I don’t want some act. I don’t need a porn version of you.”
Jesse swallowed, throat tight.
“I just thought you’d want—”
Andrew shook his head slowly.
“I want you,” Andrew said. “The one who just curled up against my chest like he’s never been held like that before."
He leaned forward now, lips brushing Jesse’s temple.
“I want the version of you that blushes when I touch his waist. That breathes a little faster when I say his name. The one that melts into me when I tell him he’s doing just fine.”
Jesse’s whole body shuddered.
His throat bobbed as he swallowed.
“I don’t know how to do this the right way,” he whispered.
Andrew cupped his cheek, thumb stroking the side of his mouth.
“And you don’t have to know. You just have to let me have you. As you are. Right now. No act. Just you.”
Jesse’s eyes fluttered shut.
The heat shifted. Less fantasy. More truth.
Jesse leaned in and kissed him again — slower this time, less hungry. Slowly submitting.
Andrew wrapped both arms around him and stood.
Jesse gasped as he was lifted. Carried.
He clung to Andrew’s neck, his body small in the older man’s arms, face buried in the coarse curve of his beard.
Andrew carried him to the bedroom and laid him down with reverence.
“I’ve thought about this, all night” Andrew said, kneeling beside the bed. “But only now — only now — can I let myself have it. And I’m going to make you feel it everywhere.”
He leaned down and kissed Jesse’s chest — the part he’d always hidden.
Andrew kissed both nipples slowly, licking, sucking, watching Jesse squirm.
Jesse moaned as Andrew’s mouth trailed lower — down the middle of his stomach, tongue dragging through a faint trail of hair.
He stopped suddenly. "Tell me you’re ready. Or I don’t touch you."
"I’m ready. I’ve never been more ready." Jesse exclaimed.
Then Andrew unbuttoned Jesse’s jeans, slowly, watching his face.
The pants came off. So did the underwear. Jesse’s cock sprang free — flushed, leaking, trembling in the air.
Andrew licked his lips.
He wrapped one warm hand around the base and lowered his mouth.
Jesse gasped as Andrew took the head between his lips, sucking gently, then down, deeper — tongue curling, slow bobbing motion that made Jesse’s whole body tremble.
“F-Fuck,” Jesse moaned. “Oh my God…”
Andrew didn’t stop. He held Jesse’s hips down, kept control, and let him squirm and whimper. He pulled off after a minute, leaving Jesse soaked and aching.
“I want to taste every part of you,” Andrew murmured.
Then he spread Jesse’s thighs and dipped lower.
Jesse’s breath caught — then broke into a loud cry as Andrew’s tongue met his hole.
“Andrew—!”
“Shh,” the older man said between licks. “Let me take care of you.”
He licked slowly, circling, then deeper — tongue pressing in, teasing his rim, soft moans vibrating into Jesse’s body. Jesse writhed, fisting the sheets, his cock leaking onto his own stomach.
Andrew rimmed him for minutes — deep, sensual, filthy care — until Jesse was shaking and gasping, “Please, please, I want you inside…”
Andrew pulled back.
“Are you sure?”
Jesse met his eyes. “I’ve never been more sure.”
Jesse’s lips were still wet from Andrew’s kiss, his eyes shining and wide, when he slid down onto the bed, onto his knees, and reached with both hands to undo Andrew’s jeans.
Andrew stood in front of him now, breathing heavier, watching with a low-burning heat that had nothing to do with hunger and everything to do with restraint.
“Still good?” he asked.
Jesse nodded. “Better than good. I want to taste you.”
Andrew gave no command — just watched as Jesse tugged his zipper down, then slid the jeans and briefs over thick, muscular thighs. The fabric caught slightly on Andrew’s soft belly, and Jesse helped it down gently, reverently, until he was face to face with what he’d wanted for years.
Andrew’s cock was thick. 8 inches long — but more than anything, heavy. The kind of cock that belonged to a man who didn’t chase youth but grew into his size. The base was ringed with dark, coarse hair. His balls hung low and full, and Jesse could already see the shine of precum at the tip.
“Fuck,” Jesse whispered, jaw slack. “You’re… beautiful.”
That pulled a sound from Andrew — half a groan, half a laugh.
“You don’t have to say that,” he murmured.
“I mean it,” Jesse said, fingers wrapping around the shaft, marveling at the weight. “I want to make you feel good.”
He leaned in, lips parting, tongue flicking out.
He licked a slow line from base to tip — savoring the musk, the heat, the sheer presence of Andrew’s cock.
Then he opened his mouth and took the head between his lips.
Andrew groaned above him, his thighs tensing.
“Fuck…”
Jesse moaned around him, sinking deeper — only a few inches at first, then pulling back, eyes flicking upward, watching Andrew’s face.
“That feels warm.” Jesse muttered, breath warm against the shaft.
Andrew smiled, voice hoarse. “It's all yours.”
Jesse went back down — this time slower, working his throat open, inch by inch, using his tongue along the underside. He twisted his hand in rhythm with his mouth, spit coating both as he found a rhythm.
Andrew’s hand slid into his hair — not forcing, just resting.
“You don’t have to deepthroat,” he murmured. “Just what feels good to you.”
But Jesse wanted to.
He moaned again, going deeper, throat fluttering, nose brushing Andrew’s belly.
The older man hissed. “Goddamn, Jesse…”
Jesse pulled off with a wet gasp, licking his lips. “Tell me what you like. I want to learn you.”
Andrew stared at him, chest rising. “You’re doing it.”
Jesse smirked and went back down, using both hands now — one cupping Andrew’s balls, the other stroking just beneath his mouth. He bobbed his head, faster now, enjoying the twitch in Andrew’s thighs, the soft grunts above him.
When Andrew pulled him back gently by the hair, Jesse looked up, dazed and grinning.
“You’re close?”
“Too close,” Andrew growled. “And I want to be inside you when I come.”
Jesse stood, flushed and proud, and climbed back onto the bed.
Andrew followed, crawling over him — kissing him with the taste of his cock still on Jesse’s tongue.
Then he paused.
“You still sure?”
“Yes,” Jesse breathed. “Please. I want it.”
Andrew took his time prepping him again — adding more lube, stretching him gently with fingers and tongue. Jesse moaned, hips twitching, his cock leaking into the sheets.
When Andrew finally pushed in — slow, thick, careful — Jesse gasped and held his breath.
“Breathe,” Andrew whispered. “You’re doing so good.”
Jesse moaned louder, eyes squeezed shut.
Then Andrew was buried to the base, chest pressing into Jesse’s, arms bracketing his head.
“I’m not moving until you nod.” he said, low and firm
Jesse nodded, panting. “Please—keep going—you feel so good"
Andrew kissed him, long and deep. Then he started to move.
The first thrust was shallow. Then deeper. Then full.
Jesse arched under him, moaning openly, arms thrown around Andrew’s thick back. His fingers curled in chest hair, tugged at the dark fur there, clinging like it grounded him.
Andrew fucked him slowly, deeply, each stroke full-bodied, hips grinding to get all the way in. His belly slapped gently against Jesse’s skin, sweat mixing between them.
“You’re mine now,” Andrew whispered in his ear.
“Only yours.” Jesse moaned. “Don't hold back.”
Andrew shifted, hooked Jesse’s legs over his shoulders, changing the angle. Jesse cried out — the spot inside him lighting up.
Jesse’s cock pulsed, untouched.
Then they changed positions again.
Andrew lay back and pulled Jesse into his lap — guiding Jesse to straddle him, slowly lowering onto the cock again.
Jesse’s body tensed, then relaxed, inch by inch. “F-fuck… this feels insane…”
Andrew’s hands never left him — one on his hip, one on his chest, thumbing a nipple.
Jesse rode him slowly, hips grinding down, moaning every time he bottomed out.
Andrew looked up at him like he was a goddamn miracle.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured. “Soft. Strong. Mine.”
Jesse whined, losing control. “I’m close,” he gasped. “Please—fuck me—don’t stop—!”
Andrew flipped him again, pressing him into the mattress, fucking faster now, body slick with sweat.
“I’ve got you,” he growled. “I’m gonna fill you, baby. Every drop. You want that?”
“Yes, Daddy!”
That did it. Jesse came first — loud, body shaking, untouched.
Andrew followed with a broken groan, pushing deep and pulsing inside him, warmth spreading through Jesse’s body.
They collapsed together.
Jesse had never felt so full.
Not just physically — though that too. His hole throbbed, slick and stretched, still pulsing with Andrew’s warmth deep inside. But it was more than that.
He lay curled against the older man’s chest, wrapped in a tangle of arms, sweat, and rumpled sheets. His face was pressed into Andrew’s shoulder, beard rough against his cheek. One of Andrew’s thick hands stroked lazily up and down his spine, soothing him. The other rested over Jesse’s ass, protective, grounding.
“You alright, baby?” Andrew murmured, voice gravel-soft, lips brushing Jesse’s hair.
Jesse nodded against him, breath shallow. “Yeah… I feel amazing.”
“You’re not too sore?”
“A little,” Jesse admitted. “But… I like it.”
Andrew smiled and kissed the top of his head.
“You did beautifully.”
Jesse looked up at him, flushed and dreamy.
Andrew leaned in and kissed him — not a quick peck, but long, slow, mouth moving over Jesse’s like he was still tasting the moment. Jesse moaned quietly into it, his body melting under the press of Andrew’s lips.
Their hands wandered — not urgently now, but possessively. Andrew’s palm cupped the back of Jesse’s neck, the other dragging up his thigh, settling over his belly where his muscles still fluttered. Jesse’s fingers slid over Andrew’s bare chest, lightly grazing skin, needing to hold on to something solid, real.
Then, quietly, Jesse whispered: “I don’t want it to be over yet.”
Andrew looked at him.
Jesse’s hand slid down the older man’s chest, then lower — fingertips trailing across soft belly hair, down to where Andrew’s cock had softened between his legs.
“I want to feel you again,” Jesse whispered.
Andrew kissed him — slow and deep. “You sure you’re ready for more?”
Jesse nodded. “I want to feel everything. Take me again.”
Andrew rolled them gently, laying Jesse on his side, spooning behind him. His cock, heavy but soft, rested against Jesse’s ass as they kissed — Jesse craning his neck, moaning into Andrew’s mouth.
Andrew reached down, stroking Jesse’s cock with feather-light touches.
“You’re still hard.”
“I never stopped,” Jesse groaned.
Andrew grinned against his throat. “You’re insatiable.”
He pressed closer — not forcing his way in, just nestling the head of his cock between Jesse’s cheeks.
“Let me know if it's too much at any point.”
Jesse reached behind and guided it in himself — slower this time. The stretch was tender, and he gasped softly, wincing.
Andrew paused. “Breathe.”
Jesse nodded. “I feel everything… fuck.”
Andrew pushed in inch by inch, until his cock was seated deep once again, his arms around Jesse, one hand sliding up to cup his chest — thumbing over a nipple, making Jesse squirm.
This wasn’t fucking.
This was claiming — again.
He rocked slowly, deliberately, hips moving just enough to grind deep, his cock brushing Jesse’s tender walls. Every motion dragged a new sound from Jesse’s throat.
Jesse whimpered. “I need this…”
“You’ve got it,” Andrew growled near his ear. “Every inch. You earned it.”
He kissed Jesse’s shoulder, then bit down gently — just enough to make him gasp.
“Still good for me?” he asked, voice low but firm.
“Yes,” Jesse moaned. “Don’t stop.”
Andrew kept thrusting — slow, steady, constant — his cock rubbing right where Jesse needed, just deep enough to make his whole body hum. He stayed fully pressed to Jesse’s back, one leg hooked over Jesse’s thigh, wrapping around him like a wall.
“F-Fuck—fuck, I’m gonna—” Jesse gasped, voice cracking as his whole body tightened. “I’m coming, I’m—oh fuck—”
He sobbed into the pillow as his cock jerked untouched, hot spurts spilling onto the sheets, his hole clenching hard around the thick cock buried inside him.
Andrew growled low, biting down on Jesse’s shoulder as he pushed in deep one last time — hips locked, cock pulsing, hot cum flooding Jesse’s raw hole again.
“That’s it,” Andrew growled. “Take it all. I’m not pulling out ‘til every drop’s inside you.”
Jesse’s body trembled beneath him, overstimulated and open, leaking and gasping.
They didn’t move. Just lay there, locked together — Andrew’s cock still inside him, twitching — breath tangled, hearts racing.
Jesse was panting softly, the second climax leaving him breathless and warm. Andrew stayed wrapped around him, cock softening inside, arm heavy over Jesse’s chest, their bodies locked together like they’d been made for this.
The silence was thick with afterglow. Jesse nuzzled closer to Andrew’s chest, fingers lazily brushing through the older man’s belly hair, slow and content.
Then, quietly:
“I’m glad it was you,” Jesse said.
Andrew tilted his head.
“For what?”
Jesse looked up at him, sleepy but clear-eyed. “For… taking my virginity. Being the first. I couldn’t have asked for anyone better.”
Andrew’s breath caught in his throat. Something passed behind his eyes — guilt? Tenderness? Both.
He brushed a thumb along Jesse’s cheek. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you.” Jesse said. “I’ll never forget this.”
Andrew leaned in and kissed his forehead.
After a few minutes, Andrew gently started to move. He untangled their limbs slowly, trying not to wake Jesse further.
But Jesse shifted, catching his wrist.
“Where are you going?”
Andrew paused. “I figured I’d let you sleep. Didn’t want to overstay.”
Jesse blinked. “You thought I wouldn’t want you to stay?”
“I didn’t want you to feel pressured. Like this had to turn into something.”
Jesse smiled faintly, tugged Andrew’s arm back around him.
“I don’t know what this is,” he murmured. “But I know I want you next to me when I wake up.”
Andrew exhaled, the last of his hesitation melting.
“Okay,” he said softly.
He settled back into the sheets, spooning behind Jesse again, this time letting his full weight drape over the younger man’s back. Jesse let out a soft sigh of satisfaction and sank into it.
They didn’t bother with the mess between their legs or the faint stick of sweat on their skin. The warmth, the ache, the satisfaction — it overrode everything. They fell asleep tangled in the aftermath, too worn out to care, too full to move.
“Goodnight, Jesse.”
“Goodnight, Andrew.”
Their fingers interlaced.
And they slept — warm, claimed, and not alone.
For the reader
Jesse and Andrew stay close — a warm, easy connection, with occasional casual sex when comfort calls, but no expectations of romance or something long-term. Andrew checks in now and then. Jesse texts him late at night sometimes. They talk. They laugh.
They don’t pretend it was more than it was — but they both hold it close, each in their own way.
Jesse keeps growing. Keeps craving. And he’s ready for what comes next.
If you enjoyed this story, send me an email at [email protected]. Don’t be shy, knowing you’re getting off to this helps me write the next chapters even faster.
