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gilascaveBo/Roscoe snippet. Part of the series here
Roscoe leaned him back on the couch, kissing him hard. He tried to be gentle -- he wanted to be gentle and slow and forget everything else than just laying down on top of his lover and kissing him until they both ached. He could feel Bo's hands on his arms, then his back -- moving, pulling him down and it was harder to remember to go slow. Bo was moving beneath him and as Roscoe positioned himself above him he felt Bo moan, soft, and he couldn't keep going slow anymore.
He kissed him harder, then, and didn't try to stop and savor anything or take him time so he could notice everything he was doing and everything Bo was doing in response. Instead he kissed, and he pressed himself down, and he couldn't stop himself and he no longer wanted to. He could barely remember the word 'slow' and the word 'gentle' had become what Bo was doing now, with his hands. Roscoe could feel the light caresses and wanted to arch back into them but he couldn't pull his mouth away from Bo's mouth.
Anything slow would have to wait. Savouring would have to be afterwards -- after he'd pulled Bo inside him and tasted everything he could taste and felt himself merge into his lover's body.
He realised he was still dressed, and he spared one hand to start tearing at his clothes. Bo's hands were there, suddenly, then much more coordinated -- or patient -- hands were undressing him. He went back to pressing his lips against every part of Bo he could find, leaving Bo to the chore of getting both of them ready. As soon as he felt his bare chest touch skin, though, he leaned down more and let his weight cover his torso with the feel and heat of Bo's body.
He heard a laugh in his ear, and he knew Bo was going to say something about taking it easy and if he'd wait one more second , so he kissed Bo again, hard, and didn't hear a thing.
When Bo pushed him back, Roscoe moved to kissing his jaw and neck. He heard a soft laugh, but he didn't raise his head. He knew the expression that he'd see and right now he didn't want to see it. Warmth, affection -- it would remind him why he wanted to take his time and why he couldn't. He pushed his hips and felt Bo shift.
"All right, just hang on," Bo said easily, a hint of laughter and a hint of something else. Roscoe did raise his head that time and he found Bo kissing him, now, hard as before and just as eager. He pushed himself up, hands slipped underneath Bo on the couch, and waited just as long as he could. Waited until his pants were pushed down just past his buttocks, and until Bo has his own jeans skinned down to the thigh and he laid back down again.
As soon as his body touched Bo's, he knew he was going to come. One more kiss, one more touch of Bo's hands and he'd be gone. He kissed Bo hard, and fast, not wanting to wait or draw it out even for a second.
He could feel Bo's delight thought the kiss, and felt Bo reach up and hold him as he came. He kept kissing him as his body shook, and he felt Bo's own orgasm starting to build and he kept moving as though trying for his own, still, knowing the motion would turn his lover on more. Bo's kiss turned as hungry as his own had been, and the hands grasping him were no longer gentle. Roscoe heard a moan, and kissed Bo right on the throat, and the moan turned harsh until finally Bo cried out, and came.
Bo kissed him, again, and Roscoe turned the kiss into something more gentle, touching him with his tongue and pressing closed lips against Bo's mouth. He didn't know how long it was before his heart-rate had slowed down and all he was doing was lying there, less than half naked and sticky with cum. And all he wanted in the world was to kiss his lover easily.
"Love you," Bo whispered between two of the kisses.
That was why he'd wanted to slow down, before. But he was glad he hadn't, because now he could relax into the words, and rest himself on his lover's strong, young body, and drift into something not quite sleep.
"Love you, too."
Roscoe leaned him back on the couch, kissing him hard. He tried to be gentle -- he wanted to be gentle and slow and forget everything else than just laying down on top of his lover and kissing him until they both ached. He could feel Bo's hands on his arms, then his back -- moving, pulling him down and it was harder to remember to go slow. Bo was moving beneath him and as Roscoe positioned himself above him he felt Bo moan, soft, and he couldn't keep going slow anymore.
He kissed him harder, then, and didn't try to stop and savor anything or take him time so he could notice everything he was doing and everything Bo was doing in response. Instead he kissed, and he pressed himself down, and he couldn't stop himself and he no longer wanted to. He could barely remember the word 'slow' and the word 'gentle' had become what Bo was doing now, with his hands. Roscoe could feel the light caresses and wanted to arch back into them but he couldn't pull his mouth away from Bo's mouth.
Anything slow would have to wait. Savouring would have to be afterwards -- after he'd pulled Bo inside him and tasted everything he could taste and felt himself merge into his lover's body.
He realised he was still dressed, and he spared one hand to start tearing at his clothes. Bo's hands were there, suddenly, then much more coordinated -- or patient -- hands were undressing him. He went back to pressing his lips against every part of Bo he could find, leaving Bo to the chore of getting both of them ready. As soon as he felt his bare chest touch skin, though, he leaned down more and let his weight cover his torso with the feel and heat of Bo's body.
He heard a laugh in his ear, and he knew Bo was going to say something about taking it easy and if he'd wait one more second , so he kissed Bo again, hard, and didn't hear a thing.
When Bo pushed him back, Roscoe moved to kissing his jaw and neck. He heard a soft laugh, but he didn't raise his head. He knew the expression that he'd see and right now he didn't want to see it. Warmth, affection -- it would remind him why he wanted to take his time and why he couldn't. He pushed his hips and felt Bo shift.
"All right, just hang on," Bo said easily, a hint of laughter and a hint of something else. Roscoe did raise his head that time and he found Bo kissing him, now, hard as before and just as eager. He pushed himself up, hands slipped underneath Bo on the couch, and waited just as long as he could. Waited until his pants were pushed down just past his buttocks, and until Bo has his own jeans skinned down to the thigh and he laid back down again.
As soon as his body touched Bo's, he knew he was going to come. One more kiss, one more touch of Bo's hands and he'd be gone. He kissed Bo hard, and fast, not wanting to wait or draw it out even for a second.
He could feel Bo's delight thought the kiss, and felt Bo reach up and hold him as he came. He kept kissing him as his body shook, and he felt Bo's own orgasm starting to build and he kept moving as though trying for his own, still, knowing the motion would turn his lover on more. Bo's kiss turned as hungry as his own had been, and the hands grasping him were no longer gentle. Roscoe heard a moan, and kissed Bo right on the throat, and the moan turned harsh until finally Bo cried out, and came.
Bo kissed him, again, and Roscoe turned the kiss into something more gentle, touching him with his tongue and pressing closed lips against Bo's mouth. He didn't know how long it was before his heart-rate had slowed down and all he was doing was lying there, less than half naked and sticky with cum. And all he wanted in the world was to kiss his lover easily.
"Love you," Bo whispered between two of the kisses.
That was why he'd wanted to slow down, before. But he was glad he hadn't, because now he could relax into the words, and rest himself on his lover's strong, young body, and drift into something not quite sleep.
"Love you, too."