A Sex Therapy side story
Elliot wasn’t the type of person to corner someone at their place of employment and ask them on a date, but technically the handsome man who ran his favorite coffee shop had made the first move. Andreas Hughes’ hazel eyes, wide, dimpled smile, and subtle flirtation had pierced Elliot’s usual morning fog of grumpiness like a gentle, coffee-scented ray of light. He had to mentally congratulate Andreas for working up the nerve to flirt with him at all. Mornings were not Elliot’s best time, and if anyone else had tried and not immediately handed him a 16 oz cup of steaming hot caffeine, he would’ve shut them down without a second thought.
While Andreas wasn’t new to relationships he apparently was new to dating men, but Elliot had taken it in stride. Everyone started somewhere and Elliot himself had enough experience for five people. Between his sex life and his career, there was very little that shocked him anymore when it came to people’s proclivities and foibles. Sure, Andreas was a little wobbly; more than once there had been an awkward pause in the conversation when Elliot caught Andreas staring at him with a hungry look, but instead of being irked by it Elliot had been amused. Charmed, even. Despite his heated gaze, Andreas’ conversation remained blessedly intelligent and his hands aggravatingly polite. Long before their meal was over, Elliot had found himself growing impatient to find out whether Andreas’ self control stemmed from an inability to state his desires openly, or if it was deeper evidence of a man who knew how to discipline his appetite as needed.
In Elliot’s experience, most people controlled their desires about as poorly as they expressed them, but he’d been willing to give Andreas the benefit of the doubt and see the evening through. As the night unfolded, Elliot had been more than happy to provide a little coaxing and caressing and even some light cocksucking on his dining room table to break the ice. Anything to get to whatever smoldered beneath Andreas’ good manners and unassuming demeanor.
And then, just as Elliot had been ready to settle into a night of smooth, practiced seduction, Andreas had flipped him on his back and turned the whole evening on its head. Elliot had been completely blindsided and that did not sit well with him.
Elliot had long ago decided that only the most extreme of extenuating circumstances would ever convince him to disrupt his carefully crafted and meticulously managed rotation of sex partners, and Andreas Hughes had proved to be one hell of an extenuating circumstance. On a Saturday night he’d normally order takeout from Lucky Panda and enjoy a quickie with the delivery boy, but Elliot decided that he couldn’t wait another week to test Andreas’ sexual mettle again.
It was a matter of pride, damn it.
Obviously, the only way for Elliot to reclaim some of his tattered dignity was to clear his Saturday night schedule and insist on an encore performance. If reclaiming that dignity also meant suffering through a second night of successive, shattering orgasms, then so be it. Sacrifices would have to be made. Once he’d gotten Andreas out of his system, he could get back to his regular sex schedule unperturbed.
As soon as Andreas left to go take care of his dog and do whatever it was he usually did with his Saturday afternoons, Elliot had spent a solid twenty minutes trying to find a word that meant “entirely sexually satisfied but also demoralized” without success. The best Google had to offer was “ravished” and “ravaged,” at which point Elliot had snorted in derision and closed his laptop. He was neither a timorous maiden nor some ruined city under the siege of his local barista’s sexual prowess, thank you very much.
He spent the rest of the day on mindless tasks: changing the sheets and running laundry and furnishing the nightstand (and the living room coffee table, and one of the kitchen cabinets) with a fresh supply of condoms and lube. All the while, he did his best to ignore the agonizingly slow progress of the clock and how heavy his cock was starting to feel between his legs. Elliot enjoyed sex but he wasn’t about to be ruled by the whims of his dick like some nervous, sweaty teenager. He gritted his teeth through a tepid shower and only touched himself as much as necessary to get clean. Mostly.
Granted, he’d started the day feeling like the victim of a particularly sexy trainwreck, but he was never at his best before coffee. Surely, in a moment of pre-caffeinated weakness, his memory had distorted the previous evening’s events in Andreas’ favor. Perhaps it was time for Elliot to admit that he was well into his 30s, and he’d simply had a more rigorous night of action than usual. Everyone had off days.
He looked in the mirror as he zipped up soft gray trousers and slipped into a fresh button-down shirt. He nodded to himself. Yes, that had to be it. Besides, If his romp with Andreas had been that fulfilling, then Elliot wouldn’t have been ignoring his fifth erection in as many hours.
Clearly, he still had plenty of unsatisfied desire left on the table and it had nothing to do with the thorough kissing he’d been treated to after breakfast or the shy, conspiratorial delight in Andreas’ eyes when he asked if he could come back that evening with some things for them to play with together. In Elliot’s opinion, that was a completely unfair question to ask a man before he’d even finished his second cup of coffee, and so he’d been justified in his mumbled response of “uh huh” before he’d pulled Andreas back in again. If Elliot had been thinking clearly, he would have recognized his mistake and instead taken charge of their evening plans himself.
Well, nevermind. He was thinking clearly now, and it was simply a matter of keeping his wits about him for the remainder of the day. Andreas had been far more open and uninhibited than expected but Elliot had at least pieced together from their conversation that Andreas’ sexual history was likely far more vanilla and far less storied than Elliot’s own. In fact, he’d be surprised if Andreas showed up with more than fuzzy handcuffs and a pocket stroker. Not that there wasn’t plenty of pleasure to be found in simple things, of course.
Elliot’s phone pinged in his pocket, jerking him out of his reverie.
Still okay with me bringing a few toys? Andreas’ text message read. I think I may have asked you before the coffee kicked in :)
Elliot stared hard at the little smiling emoji. It rankled. More to the point, Andreas giving him this preemptive out rankled, as though Elliot had been so overwhelmed the night before that now Andreas had to tread carefully so as not to spook him.
Bring it on, Daddy, Elliot fired back. He’d meant it to sound a little mocking and he hit send before he could think better of it. Oh well. The nuance was probably lost over text anyway. He watched the little dots indicating Andreas was typing for what felt like an unreasonable amount of time, and then his stomach swooped when all he got back was:
On my way.
Elliot quickly gave Gatsby his dinner and lit a candle on the dining room table, remembering how good Andreas had looked spread out on it. He wondered if Andreas would like being bent over the cool marble of the kitchen counters, or if he’d like to have his mouth fucked as eagerly as he did his ass. He wondered if they’d even make it to the bedroom. Elliot swallowed as the night’s possibilities unfolded in his mind. He checked the time on his phone. Eight minutes had passed.
Elliot rolled up his sleeves and checked his appearance in the hall mirror, then unrolled his sleeves. He spent a minute making sure his hair looked artfully tousled and then glanced at the time again. Ten minutes. He re-rolled his sleeves.
He was rearranging the condoms in the nightstand when the doorbell chimed, and he very deliberately counted to ten before calmly walking down the hall to let Andreas in.
Andreas was dressed a little more casually than last night but his navy henley and gray-washed jeans made him look eminently touchable. His chestnut brown hair was slightly windblown and he had a small leather duffel slung over one shoulder.
“Hey,” he said softly. His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled at Elliot.
For a moment, Elliot lost track of whether he’d been in the middle of inhaling or exhaling. God, Andreas looked good, and the fact that he’d apparently walked the streets from the coffee shop to Elliot’s building looking so handsome and pleasant while also toting what was hopefully a bag full of utter debauchery was doing things to Elliot’s sense of reason. They’d only been apart for half a day and already he wanted to climb the man like a tree. Elliot had just enough breath in his lungs to murmur some kind of greeting and let Andreas inside, and when Elliot closed the door he turned to find Andreas standing closer than expected. There was a beat of silence where they just stood sharing heat and breath.
“Hey,” Elliot said, feeling wrong-footed and then mentally kicking himself. He was supposed to be the one keeping Andreas on his toes this evening, metaphorically speaking. Perhaps literally, too, depending on what they got up to. He just needed to keep his wits about him and keep Andreas at a comfortable distance until he formulated a strategy.
“Hey,” Andreas said again, looking amused. His eyes dropped to Elliot’s mouth. “May I—”
“Yes,” Elliot said and sealed their lips together, deciding that this was the distance he was comfortable with and as good a strategy as any. Andreas’ back hit the wall and he moaned into Elliot’s mouth, his bag dropping to the floor as he pulled Elliot in by the waist. The line of his cock was already a firm ridge in his jeans and Elliot felt a thrill of victory run through him. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one who’d spent the day in anticipation. They were on equal footing after all.
Too soon, Andreas broke the kiss, although he kept their hips pressed tightly together. “I was going to ask if I could put my things in the bedroom,” he said with a breathless laugh. “But I like your idea better.”
Without waiting for an answer he pulled Elliot in again, biting at his lower lip and then sweeping his tongue back into Elliot’s mouth before Elliot could even think to cringe at his own desperate mis-read of the situation. He wound his hands through Andreas’ hair as they made out against the wall like teenagers. He pulled back and moved from Andreas’ mouth to his jaw to his neck, enjoying the way his Adam’s apple bobbed against his lips as he swallowed.
“No,” Elliot said between kisses. “Bedroom is good.” They’d planned to order out for dinner first but the last thing Elliot was interested in right now was food. He was more than happy to get this show on the road after interminable hours of waiting.
They stumbled down the hallway and through Elliot’s bedroom door, kissing and shedding clothes and then laughing when Andreas had to go back to the front door to retrieve his bag. Elliot slid his trousers down his legs and tossed them over a chair by the bed, his stomach twisting with anticipation, suddenly eager to see just how creative Andreas was hoping to get tonight.
Andreas sat next to Elliot on the bed and set his leather duffel between them, unzipping it to reveal a large soft-sided case sitting on top of his change of clothes. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking bashful despite the obvious erection tenting his jeans where they sagged open. “Feel free to say no to any or all of them. These are just suggestions, not demands.”
“Don’t worry,” Elliot assured him, making grabby hands towards Andreas’ waiting assortment of sex toys. “I’ll let you know my limits.”
Short of plastic tarps and a murder kit, Elliot doubted there was much of anything in Andreas’ bag that he would say no to. He opened the case and pulled out the first few items and kept his face neutral as he laid them on the bed: a pair of cuffs, soft black leather rather than the fuzzy handcuffs he’d predicted, but not far off the mark. Then, a blindfold, and a small bottle of massage oil. Nothing outrageous, but Elliot had done more with less.
Peering back in the bag, Elliot spotted nipple clamps, a sleek black butt plug, and the unmistakable undulating shape of a prostate massager. Ah, now they were getting somewhere. Elliot smirked and laid them out as well.
Andreas cleared his throat. “There’s, um, one more.”
Finally, from the depths of the case Elliot pulled out condoms, a new tube of lube, and a hefty twelve-inch-long double-ended silicone dildo, replete with thick, realistic veining and two nicely flared heads.
“Mr. Hughes,” Elliot breathed. He raised an eyebrow and tried not to be too obvious in his excitement. “Someone’s feeling ambitious for a second date.”
Andreas started to backpedal and held out his hand to take the toy back. “I just wanted to give us a range of options. That one was more aspirational than anything. I’ve never had the chance to use it with a partner.”
Which implied that Elliot’s charming gentleman barista used the dildo on his own. That certainly explained the ease with which Andreas had taken Elliot’s cock last night. Elliot wondered just how much of the dildo Andreas liked to take. Maybe he’d get to find out.
It was obvious that this toy was the one Andreas was most nervous about as well as the one he was most interested in, and like a shark Elliot smelled blood in the water. If he was going to maintain the upper hand tonight, this seemed like the perfect place to start.
“Well, in that case,” Elliot said, holding the dildo out of reach and sweeping everything else but the lube back into the bag, “I think we need to break this thing in properly.”
“Oh,” Andreas' face lit up. “Are you sure?”
“I can see the appeal,” Elliot said, twirling the dildo like a baton. “Fucking and getting fucked at the same time, right?”
Andreas stared at him for a moment, a disbelieving smile curling up one corner of his mouth. “Yeah. That was the idea. And getting to watch you at the same time.”
Hmm. Andreas had been quite into watching last night as well. Elliot smiled to himself. Where voyeurism went, exhibitionism often followed.
Elliot scooted back towards the headboard, slid his underwear down and off, and spread his legs to give Andreas a nice view. “Would you like to begin or shall I?” he said jauntily, clicking the cap of the lube open. He began spreading lube over one end of the toy with a little more tender loving care than was strictly necessary and waited.
Andreas eyes darted back and forth between Elliot’s cock and waiting hole and where his fingers slowly stroked the dildo. Elliot drew back his knees, giving him an even better view. “You start,” Andreas said, his voice a little strained.
Given that he had already stripped and assumed a very deliberate position while Andreas still had his jeans on, Elliot hadn’t really given him much of a choice. Andreas had a touch of the voyeur in him, and Elliot knew exactly how to put on a show, and he intended to use both of those things to his advantage. However, he wasn’t about to let Andreas hang back and simply spectate while Elliot worked himself up alone. If tonight was going to go as he intended, then Elliot would need a little audience participation.
He spread more lube over his fingers and got his hole wet, stroking lightly with promising intent, and then prodded at Andreas’ thigh with his toe. “You should probably lose the pants and lube up, too,” he said, smirking. “It’ll make this a lot easier, I promise.”
Andreas blinked and then grinned, his dimples deepening into charming creases on either side of his mouth. “Sorry, I keep losing my train of thought,” he said. He stood and pushed his jeans and underwear down together, his erection snapping up swollen and eager between his legs. “You’ve got me a little preoccupied.”
That’s the idea, Elliot thought.
“I’d say your train of thought is on exactly the right track,” he said while tracing little circles with his fingers. He sighed as he slipped his middle finger inside his ass, squirming and arching a little for Andreas’ benefit. If he could keep Andreas distracted and desperate, then maybe he’d be the one to see Andreas beg this time. Thankfully, he was still a bit loose from his earlier play in the shower, which meant he could get the dildo in and positioned away from his prostate before Andreas was ready to join him.
Andreas quickly snagged some pillows to lean against and arranged himself facing away from Elliot, mirroring his position. He reached past his erection and smeared lube against his asshole, but his attention was riveted to where two of Elliot’s fingers were now plunged deep, filling the room with wet sounds.
“Thought about you on my cock all day,” Elliot said, rolling his hips a little. He wanted to get a hand on his dick but he needed to keep his head in the game. “You were so fucking hungry for it I hardly got to savor your ass.”
Andreas met Elliot’s eyes with a sharp smile. “If memory serves, I wasn’t the only one who was eager last night.”
“There’s nothing hotter than enthusiasm in the bedroom,” Elliot said, sidestepping quickly. Distracted, his fingertips glanced over his prostate and he shivered, his dick twitching from the sudden throb of sensation. God, it was good. He leaned back and let his eyes fall closed for just a moment, working his hips a little as he curled his fingers deeper.
“You’re not wrong,” Andreas said, his voice rough. Then: “Add another. I like watching you finger yourself so desperately.”
Elliot almost did it without thinking, but the interruption of Andreas' voice jerked him back to reality just enough. “I have a better idea,” he said.
Instead of adding another finger, he withdrew his hand entirely and reached for the dildo, positioning the slick lubed end against his stretched hole. He didn’t even have to play up the moan that escaped him as he pushed it inside, and grinned when he heard Andreas’ curse.
“How is it?” Andreas asked, sounding winded. He’d moved his hand from his ass to his cock, just holding it around the base as he watched Elliot.
“Mm. It’s good,” Elliot said, sighing as he fucked the toy in and out slowly. “Thick. I like the stretch.”
As long as he didn’t hit his prostate or touch his dick too much, he could probably keep this up for ages.
He closed his eyes and considered Andreas: an intelligent and well-read man in his 40s. Traditional Protestant upbringing. Dog lover. A portrait of patience and self-control, and a perfect gentleman if you didn’t look too hard. Recently closeted and new to sex with men. And absolutely hungry for cock.
Elliot grinned and opened his eyes. “Hey,” he said. “Has anyone ever called you a slut before?”
A startled laugh escaped Andreas and he ducked his head. “Ah, just once,” he said, choosing not to elaborate further, but Elliot didn’t miss the way his hand had started to move on his erection and the color rising in his cheeks.
“Would you like me to?” Elliot asked, point-blank.
Andreas paused, nostrils flaring as he took a deep breath, but he didn’t stop massaging his cock. “I…don’t know.” He looked down at Elliot’s flushed dick and where Elliot fucked and clenched around the toy. Andreas’ eyes snapped back up to his face, intense. “Try it.”
Ugh, Elliot sighed to himself. He’s perfect.
“Keep fingering your hole, slut,” he said, making sure to really wrap his tongue around the word. “Show me your pussy.”
“Oh, goddamn.” Andreas’ eyes slammed shut, his hand stilling on his cock and throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. He released his erection, letting it flop back on his belly, and applied more lube to his fingers. Eyes fixed on Elliot, he reached down past his balls and drew slow circles around his anus, canting his hips up to make sure Elliot could get a good look.
“Yeah, there you go,” Elliot grinned. “Let’s see you play with that filthy fuckhole.”
“Jesus Christ,” Andreas muttered under his breath, and then bit his lip as he slid his fingers in deep, rotating and massaging. The puffy, red rim of his asshole clung wetly to the knobs of his knuckles as they popped in and out. His lashes fluttered as he struggled to maintain eye contact. “K-keep talking,” he said and pressed his cheek against the pillows. “You’re making me want to fuck your dirty mouth.”
Elliot felt smug. This was more like it. A sweet, straight-laced man like Andreas wasn’t some intricate puzzle to figure out. A few naughty words and some light masturbation and here he was fingering his own ass and looking as desperate as Elliot had felt last night. He’d been right in his assessment: Andreas had simply caught him off guard and now it was time to get a bit of his own back.
“I’d love that, but first I think you should join me,” Elliot said. “Let’s fill that hungry hole of yours.”
“Shit,” Andreas said. “Okay.”
There was a minute of awkwardness as they adjusted their legs until they were scissored close together, thighs intertwined as they lay on their sides for leverage. Elliot gripped the center of the toy to hold it still between them as Andreas lubed the free end and then carefully inched back, impaling himself on the toy until there was almost no space left for Elliot’s hand between them.
Andreas chuckled. “I have to confess, I’m not sure how to move like this. I feel kind of like a pretzel.”
“It’s less about making specific moves and more about the fullness,” Elliot said. He tried rotating his hips, jostling the toy inside both of them until he heard Andreas moan.
“That’s…that’s not bad,” Andreas said, squirming minutely, his thighs damp with sweat where they were clamped around Elliot’s. He gasped.
“Did you hit your prostate?” Elliot asked, perking up. His end of the toy was nowhere near the danger zone.
“Almost,” Andreas moved his hips again, grinding himself against Elliot. “It’s like I’m right there but not.” He hunched and curled his body as he tried to get the toy where he needed it most, one hand grasping at Elliot’s ankle in a bid to pull their bodies even closer.
Satisfaction bloomed in Elliot’s chest as Andreas writhed shamelessly against him. The obscene slide and fullness in his ass was always a delightful sensation, but this was the side of his partners he loved seeing most, when their desire ran so strong that only the relentless race towards pleasure mattered. This was when Elliot himself felt the most able to let go and ride the high. His cock was trapped in the tangle of their thighs, and the added unpredictable friction was pushing him toward the edge, but it wasn’t enough to push him over. He smirked over his shoulder and clenched down hard on the toy, rocking his body hard against Andreas.
“Fuck!” Andreas said, his free hand grappling to hold onto Elliot’s hip and set a steady pace for their fucking, moving Elliot in a slow and deep motion against him and finding his angle. “Right there,” he moaned. “Baby. Right there…!”
Sensing victory was approaching and none too soon, Elliot gave in to the movement Andreas seemed to want even as it set the head of the toy glancing off his prostate. He could hold out. He had to. He was gonna make Andreas come first if it killed him, and then—
“Touch yourself,” Elliot gritted out. He’d figure out the rest of his plan for the night after this. He just wanted to feel Andreas coming against him. “Get your hand on your cock.” He waited until he could feel the telltale rhythm of Andreas jerking himself through the jostling of their bodies and then took hold of his own erection, sliding his foreskin quickly over the head of his cock, the sensation a relief as much as a pleasure. He just had to hold himself on the edge a little longer.
“Mm, fuck!” Andreas cried out. “Gonna—!”
Yes! Elliot’s breath hitched and he moaned high in his throat as his orgasm hit, his hand flying over his cock as thick ropes of semen shot over the sheets and up his belly. Andreas continued to rock against him, the toy striking home relentlessly now and Elliot whimpered helplessly as his balls were almost forcibly emptied. How long was the man going to come, anyway?
“E-enough,” he gasped, batting at Andreas’ hip with his other hand. “I can’t come anymore.” He collapsed face down on the bed, his abdomen feeling wobbly with fatigue and legs weak from his orgasm.
Elliot’s head was spinning. He grinned against his forearm. He didn’t know if he’d be able to manage another orgasm like that tonight, but this was about fanning Andreas’s flames, not his own. If he didn’t have to worry about his own stamina for the remainder of the evening, so much the better. They probably both needed a nap before they got up to anymore mischief, anyway. And food.
Behind him, Andreas moved, disengaging their legs, and then Elliot moaned softly as he felt the toy being slowly withdrawn from his body. Andreas puttered with something near the bed, and then a warm hand ran up Elliot’s back, soothing, helping him arrange his limbs more comfortably on the bed. He felt the drip of something liquid along his spine, and then the sweet scent of almonds rose in the air as Andreas massaged something into his skin and Elliot felt the heavy thunk of an erection against his ass.
He cracked an eye open. Andreas knelt next to him looking entirely too awake for having just had a major orgasm. Elliot glanced down. Andreas was still erect.
“You didn’t come?” he said, his afterglow turning to despair at Andreas’ beatific smile.
“I managed to hold off,” Andreas said, sounding relieved. “Barely. At the last second, I realized I’d really like to come on your cock again instead. If you’re okay with that.”
“That’s…that’s fine,” Elliot stammered. “But I won’t be ready to go again for a while yet.”
“I’m a patient man. And there’s plenty we can get up to in the meantime,” Andreas said, his smile growing hungry. “Do you mind if I pick next?” He gestured to the open case of unused sex toys that he’d set back on the bed. Apparently, Andreas intended to use every toy he’d brought with him that Elliot didn’t outright refuse, and since Elliot hadn’t objected to any of them...
There was no denying it now; their first date hadn’t been a fluke, and the look in Andreas’ eyes told him exactly where tonight was headed. Elliot swallowed and gave Andreas his smoothest smile.
“What did you have in mind?” he said.
Andreas settled in and kissed his shoulder. “How about we play with your prostate a little more?” He stroked down Elliot’s back and ran two fingers between his cheeks, rubbing gently over his tender asshole. “You’re nice and loose, now,” he said, slipping one finger inside, and Elliot couldn’t stop his moan. “And sensitive. I think you’d take the prostate massager so beautifully.”
“I want to see it,” Andreas murmured hot against his ear, two fingers inside now, curling deep. “I want to see you fall apart on my toys, and my cock, and then inside me again.”
“You’re a sadist,” Elliot groaned, but his stomach twisted with lust at Andreas’ words. He wanted it, too. Andreas was sweet, and polite, and a total fucking deviant, with a sexual appetite to match Elliot’s own.
He’s so fucking perfect.
“Bring it on, Daddy,” Elliot said without mockery this time. He lifted his chin to meet Andreas’ eyes. “Break me.”