The rest of the world seems to melt away in the moment Joel enters him and reaches around to take hold of his cock all at once. The quick prep helped well enough but Spencer is still tight around Joel's cock, and he loves it, loves the pressure he feels as his boyfriend fills him, pushes deeper and deeper inside of him. His entire body is tingling with pleasure and it won't stop, he hopes it never stops, and wishes he could kiss Joel right now but he can just barely keep himself standing. His grip on the edge of the table is tight enough to turn his knuckles white.
The sound of his name on Joel's lips makes him moan, and he'll never get enough of the way Joel says it when they're being intimate. Because this is intimate, it's not impersonal just because they're not facing each other; Spencer thinks, in fact, that it takes a great deal of trust to leave nearly everything in Joel's hands, to hand over control to the other man because Spencer doesn't know what to expect or when to expect it. All he knows is that Joel would never do anything to hurt him and that's enough. It's always going to be enough.
He whimpers when he feels Joel slide nearly all the way out before thrusting back into him, gasping at the sound of skin against skin, and that's when he hears the first crack of the fireworks outside. Something about it makes him laugh, not because anything's particularly funny but because they'd gone from spending their first holiday together prepared to watch the fireworks to having sex over Joel's dining table. The laugh quickly fades into another moan as he starts to move his hips in time with Joel's and every time Joel's cock enters him again, it means Spencer's cock pumps into his boyfriend's fist. There's no shortage of sensory overload here, and Spencer wishes it could last all night--not that they can't do this again later in the evening anyway--but between Joel's cock buried in his ass and Spencer's cock being stroked by Joel's firm grip, he's already nearing the edge.
"God, Joel." It's not exactly eloquent but it's all he can come up with between the breaths that have shortened into quick panting now as he tries to encourage Joel to quicken his pace, to not hold back because Spencer wants all of him, wants Joel to know that Spencer is his and only his, and he lays his chest flat on the table so he's practically at a ninety-degree angle, nearly letting out a sob when Joel's cock pumps into him and lands just in the right place. "Joel, please... Please..." He has no idea what he's pleading for, just knows that he needs Joel to keep going, keep thrusting, and a pleasured grin curves at his lips as he reaches his arms out to graps the opposite edge of the table and push his ass back onto Joel's cock in earnest.
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The sound of his name on Joel's lips makes him moan, and he'll never get enough of the way Joel says it when they're being intimate. Because this is intimate, it's not impersonal just because they're not facing each other; Spencer thinks, in fact, that it takes a great deal of trust to leave nearly everything in Joel's hands, to hand over control to the other man because Spencer doesn't know what to expect or when to expect it. All he knows is that Joel would never do anything to hurt him and that's enough. It's always going to be enough.
He whimpers when he feels Joel slide nearly all the way out before thrusting back into him, gasping at the sound of skin against skin, and that's when he hears the first crack of the fireworks outside. Something about it makes him laugh, not because anything's particularly funny but because they'd gone from spending their first holiday together prepared to watch the fireworks to having sex over Joel's dining table. The laugh quickly fades into another moan as he starts to move his hips in time with Joel's and every time Joel's cock enters him again, it means Spencer's cock pumps into his boyfriend's fist. There's no shortage of sensory overload here, and Spencer wishes it could last all night--not that they can't do this again later in the evening anyway--but between Joel's cock buried in his ass and Spencer's cock being stroked by Joel's firm grip, he's already nearing the edge.
"God, Joel." It's not exactly eloquent but it's all he can come up with between the breaths that have shortened into quick panting now as he tries to encourage Joel to quicken his pace, to not hold back because Spencer wants all of him, wants Joel to know that Spencer is his and only his, and he lays his chest flat on the table so he's practically at a ninety-degree angle, nearly letting out a sob when Joel's cock pumps into him and lands just in the right place. "Joel, please... Please..." He has no idea what he's pleading for, just knows that he needs Joel to keep going, keep thrusting, and a pleasured grin curves at his lips as he reaches his arms out to graps the opposite edge of the table and push his ass back onto Joel's cock in earnest.