“You’re not real.”He smirked. Gay sex And then he picked up the pace.The sound of skin slapping, the creak of the bed, our moans—everything blended into a rhythm, raw and desperate.I reached up, grabbed his waist, and started to thrust up into him from below. This wasn’t shy. “Every night before bed.”I turned my head, grinning. Part 5: Every Night Before BedI lay there, chest still rising and falling, cock half-hard and slick with spit, when the door creaked open again.Oliver stepped in—and I froze.He was wearing a jockstrap.Just a fucking jockstrap. My hands found his ass, gripping it through the straps, kneading that perfect bounce as I rocked up into him.“You brought everything,” I muttered.“I came prepared.”I grabbed the condom, tore it open, and rolled it on while he slicked me up with lube—slow strokes, teasing, watching me twitch with every touch. “You been hiding this the whole time?”“Call it long-term planning.”He leaned in, kissing me hard, teeth and tongue and hunger.
