his hole and pushing in. It was good, but he didn't want just good. He wanted to be filled and owned and safe.
Matt whimpered against his will when he revealed that; he had been hell bent on being strong.
I don't need you strong. I just need you.
With those words, Pietr pushed into him.
Oh, God. It was too soon, and his muscles burned in protest. And yet, it wasn't soon enough, simply not enough, and Matt reached down and pulled Pietr deeper until he was full. Completely.
Complete.
Pietr moaned when he heard that thought and wrapped his arms around Matt, slowly sliding out and pushing back in.
Matt wrapped his legs around Pietr, holding on tightly and kissing Pietr.
I love you, Matt.
Matt knew, could feel it surrounding them and flowing through every one of their movements. Pietr set up a steady rhythm, and each thrust drove the feeling of belonging, of being one, to a new height. The boundaries between them blurred, and their pleasure grew and grew until Matt -- or was it Pietr? -- cried out, and the climax took them and shut out everything else, encompassing them in a burning, cleansing fire of pure satisfaction.
Matt kept holding on for a long, long time, the close contact with Pietr everything he needed. Everything that made him whole.
Thank you. Pietr's inner voice was quiet, grateful.
Matt just nodded and gently kissed the side of Pietr's neck. He would be okay. As long as he had Pietr, he would be okay.
3
Matt was deep in thought when he left work that evening. It was Friday, and he had given his employees the afternoon off, leaving him a blessedly empty office in which to get some work done. He still relished the work; something as simple as an extension to a school or an administration building thrilled him. It wasn't just the aesthetic side of it, even though that was important. He also loved adjusting all the technical specifications to make one coherent, well-working building. It was like a giant puzzle, the pieces consisting of the demands made by the owner of the building, the future users, and his own aesthetic ambitions.
He was still thinking about the possibility of incorporating an extra entrance for his current project when he saw two men. They were walking toward him in the shadows along the pathway to the parking lot. The men were clad almost identically in black trousers and shirts, and he guessed it was their outfits that had caught his attention. Just before they got into the light from the lamppost, they pulled on black ski masks.
Matt turned around to run, but there were two men behind him as well, dressed like the other two. He halted, reaching his arms out to the sides in a gesture that was meant to be appeasing.
"I don't have anything worth stealing," he said. He had a feeling that they weren't there for his wallet, though. You didn't dress up like that and call three of your friends to rob random people of their spare cash.
One of the men stepped closer, and with a shock, Matt realized that he knew the figure. Jones and Matt had dressed up as robbers for a costume party once when they couldn't come up with a better idea for a costume, and Jones had even worn the ski mask one very memorable night in bed.
"Don't do this to me. Fuck, Jo--" Matt felt a hard punch in his back, making the pain soar through him. He tried to turn around, but the man next to Jones was too quick, and he got a blow to his head that almost knocked him over.
Matt shook his head to clear it. He tried to use his mental powers to defend himself, but the blow to his head made his mind sluggish. All he could think to do was lifting up his bag to protect himself. It did block a punch from Jones, but Matt got another in the side, making him lose his breath. He fought hard to stay upright, knowing that it would get really bad when he couldn't keep standing anymore. Then the blows started raining down, and it was only a matter of time before his knees gave out and he sank to the ground. It didn't stop
Matt whimpered against his will when he revealed that; he had been hell bent on being strong.
I don't need you strong. I just need you.
With those words, Pietr pushed into him.
Oh, God. It was too soon, and his muscles burned in protest. And yet, it wasn't soon enough, simply not enough, and Matt reached down and pulled Pietr deeper until he was full. Completely.
Complete.
Pietr moaned when he heard that thought and wrapped his arms around Matt, slowly sliding out and pushing back in.
Matt wrapped his legs around Pietr, holding on tightly and kissing Pietr.
I love you, Matt.
Matt knew, could feel it surrounding them and flowing through every one of their movements. Pietr set up a steady rhythm, and each thrust drove the feeling of belonging, of being one, to a new height. The boundaries between them blurred, and their pleasure grew and grew until Matt -- or was it Pietr? -- cried out, and the climax took them and shut out everything else, encompassing them in a burning, cleansing fire of pure satisfaction.
Matt kept holding on for a long, long time, the close contact with Pietr everything he needed. Everything that made him whole.
Thank you. Pietr's inner voice was quiet, grateful.
Matt just nodded and gently kissed the side of Pietr's neck. He would be okay. As long as he had Pietr, he would be okay.
3
Matt was deep in thought when he left work that evening. It was Friday, and he had given his employees the afternoon off, leaving him a blessedly empty office in which to get some work done. He still relished the work; something as simple as an extension to a school or an administration building thrilled him. It wasn't just the aesthetic side of it, even though that was important. He also loved adjusting all the technical specifications to make one coherent, well-working building. It was like a giant puzzle, the pieces consisting of the demands made by the owner of the building, the future users, and his own aesthetic ambitions.
He was still thinking about the possibility of incorporating an extra entrance for his current project when he saw two men. They were walking toward him in the shadows along the pathway to the parking lot. The men were clad almost identically in black trousers and shirts, and he guessed it was their outfits that had caught his attention. Just before they got into the light from the lamppost, they pulled on black ski masks.
Matt turned around to run, but there were two men behind him as well, dressed like the other two. He halted, reaching his arms out to the sides in a gesture that was meant to be appeasing.
"I don't have anything worth stealing," he said. He had a feeling that they weren't there for his wallet, though. You didn't dress up like that and call three of your friends to rob random people of their spare cash.
One of the men stepped closer, and with a shock, Matt realized that he knew the figure. Jones and Matt had dressed up as robbers for a costume party once when they couldn't come up with a better idea for a costume, and Jones had even worn the ski mask one very memorable night in bed.
"Don't do this to me. Fuck, Jo--" Matt felt a hard punch in his back, making the pain soar through him. He tried to turn around, but the man next to Jones was too quick, and he got a blow to his head that almost knocked him over.
Matt shook his head to clear it. He tried to use his mental powers to defend himself, but the blow to his head made his mind sluggish. All he could think to do was lifting up his bag to protect himself. It did block a punch from Jones, but Matt got another in the side, making him lose his breath. He fought hard to stay upright, knowing that it would get really bad when he couldn't keep standing anymore. Then the blows started raining down, and it was only a matter of time before his knees gave out and he sank to the ground. It didn't stop
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