Good (a smutty short)

Some mornings were more difficult to wake to than others. José found his eyelids were heavier than usual, and that opening them even the slightest bit made his stomach clench unpleasantly. He breathed slowly through the parting of his lips, waiting for the sensation to pass as he eased out of the confusing haze of his dreams. Slowly, slowly, José opened his eyes again.

Blackness. His lashes brushed along the soft fabric of a blindfold. He was dimly aware of the stiffness in his shoulders, of a numbing tingle of protest along his right arm, of the stiffness in his right hip. José breathed out carefully, in again. A whisper of excitement built in his gut, and he did his best to quell it. He was getting ahead of himself.

His hands twisted against one another, shifting at the small of his back. José felt along the ropes binding his wrists together. There was a familiar loop just within reach. All he had to do was tug on that, and he’d be free. Free to pull off the blindfold and stretch the stiffness from his joints.

José did not tug on the rope. Instead he rolled over his bound arms, rocking to his opposite side. He squirmed his shoulders about, encouraging a shift in circulation, and splayed his legs wide beneath the drape of his heavy cotton blanket. He liked these mornings. They were difficult to wake to, but they promised something fun.

“Ah, good. You’re awake.”

The words were quiet, as Luis’ words always were, his deep voice carrying clearly enough without the need for volume. José placed him somewhere near the door. He turned his palms out flat and rolled onto his back, pinning his arms beneath him as comfortably as he could manage.

“Good morning, sir.” José’s grin spread uncontrollably, the expression setting odd inflections into his words.

“So it is.”

José listened intently to Luis’ words. He listened to the man’s steps into the room. To the whisper of denim against itself. To the drag of Luis’ right heel where his stride fell uneven across the carpet. José felt the mattress dip before he heard the springs creek. Worn fingers brushed along the hollow of his temple, just above the banding of the blindfold. They fanned and turned, drew themselves across the smooth span of José’s skin to catch at the silver hoop in the opposite brow. Luis turned the ring slowly, just enough to antagonize.

“You’ve been good this month,” Luis murmured as he bowed close to José’s head. “I thought you’d like a treat.”

José let out a breath. Short and somewhat explosive. He hadn’t been aware that he was holding it until his ribs had begun to strain. He fidgeted in place, squirming, half hard beneath the drape of the blanket. His knuckles dug at either side of his sacrum.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t thank me yet, José. Wait until you get it.”

Luis’ fingers grasped at either side of José’s jaw. They gripped tightly, squeezed slowly moreso, and slid along the stubble that had grown in the night. José’s heart skipped at the graze of wrist near his throat, of arm at his chest. He was nearly trembling with anticipation. His skin felt alive, electric. The blanket was heavy across his waist, the air cool against the heat building in his chest. He was tense. Bracing. When would the first strike come? Where? He flinched just slightly when Luis’ elbow brushed past one painfully erect nipple. It hadn’t even been a heavy drag. Luis laughed.

“Not yet, José. Soon.” The electronic chime of the doorbell broke Luis’ words. He stood with another soft creek of the bed. “Wait here.”

The pink swell of tongue slid across José’s lips. He panted shallowly, attempting to ease the excitement that ran in nervous waves from his guts to his limbs. That wound itself in a tight band across his chest. He didn’t know how long he would be made to wait, and so he rolled again to his side. Blood ran pins and needles along the insides of his arms. His fingers toyed again with the bands of rope about his wrists, caught in the loose loop. He tucked it into one palm and debated, as he always did, what might happen if he untied himself. That would be the end of it for the morning, certainly, but would it be the end entirely? The uncertainty made it so tempting. Made it terrifying.

Two sets of footsteps approached the bedroom. José recognized Luis’ heavy, uneven gait right away. The other one was lighter, steadier. Both stopped in the doorway. José rolled again onto his back, onto his arms.

“Oh. You were right. He’s gorgeous.” The voice was higher pitched than Luis’, but still male. It was thin, and heavily accented. American.

Luis laughed. “That’s not what I said, Julian. Come on in. Make yourself comfortable.”

The excitement was trembling through José’s bones again. He slid one leg up, his knee tenting the blanket, hiding away the returning surge of his arousal. He wanted to question, to ask. He half way wanted to hide. He bit his tongue and grinned instead. Sly and wide and white.

“Wow.” Julian’s voice was closer now. Cool fingertips traced a line from José’s shoulder to the thin leather collar at the base of his neck. “He’s got even more tattoos than you. Did these hurt?”

José did not answer. He knew better than to speak when not addressed, and he wasn’t certain to whom Julian was speaking. He especially didn’t know what he was supposed to do with a stranger present. He fidgeted a little, sliding his toes against the rumpled bed sheet beneath him.

“He’d say no. Only a pussy would say yes, and he’s not a pussy.” José wondered if that was pride in Luis’ low, rumbling voice. “But it’s a tattoo. They use a needle gun. It doesn’t feel like a mud bath. You want anything? Water? Lemonade?”

Pleasantries. Niceties. For José, it would have been awkward. People came over, and he ignored them in favor of whatever was on his TV screen. Waved them off to get their own drinks from the fridge. He didn’t wait on people like a woman might. But then, neither did Luis. There was something distinctly different about the way that Luis did it. José could imagine well the stare of the man’s dark eyes, the intensity of them beneath his prominent brows. He wondered if this Julian person was receiving that stare just then. If Julian was made to wonder if he should accept, or refuse. Which he should choose to alleviate the pressure of that regard. There was certainly a long enough pause between them.

“Maybe some water for after.”

The bed shifted again, and José was left alone upon it.

“Can I untie him?”

Luis’ response was mildly reproachful in its tone. “No. I didn’t go to that effort just for you to untie him. Leave the blindfold too. Work around it. Twenty minutes. And José,” Luis paused to be certain he had the man’s attention, “no talking.”

“As you wish.” Julian’s voice had guttered to a whisper. Placating in place of the light, swaying tones of moments before.

The sound of the door shutting was loud and grating in the relative silence of the room. The door slouched away from its hinges, and required a solid slam in order to latch. José had fixed it three times since he’d moved in, and he was starting to think that he’d have to go get a new one entirely.

“Hello, José.” Julian’s light voice broke through the tangential spin of José’s thoughts. “I’m Julian.” Cool air went slipping along the side of José’s upturned leg. “I know you can’t answer me, but if at any point you feel discomfort, I want you to shake your head. Nod if you agree.”

José worked his head against his pillow in a nod, the warm fabric rumpling against his shaved scalp.

“Good.”

More cool tendrils of air penetrated the cocoon of warmth that had built about José’s legs. The weight of the blanket was peeled up and away, exposing his long legs and the half-hard drape of his cock toward his hip. José dropped his upturned knee flat and licked again at his lips. He wanted to ask questions. His tongue was tender from having been bitten so much.

There were rustles of movement to the side. Snaps and pops. Shifting fabric. The hiss of a zipper. An odd click. Something wet. Squelching.

Julian’s fingers were warm this time when they touched. Warm and slick. They started at Jose’s hip in a light brush, and trailed down toward his knee. Down to sweep palms at the start of José’s calf. The touch left again. More wet, slippery sounds. Julian’s fingers returned where they had left off, and completed their trail down toward José’s ankle. The touch parted. Returned. Firmer, twisting, gliding up his leg. Fingertips rocked, circled, and palms touched down to do much the same. José sighed out long sigh, easing as Julian’s touches grew more and more probative, working at the knots of tension in his calf and thigh.

“I don’t usually work like this,” Julian said as his hands slicked down along José’s opposite leg. “Usually there’s a nice table, some candles. Music. You know. Maybe you can come by some time. I’ll give you a proper massage. On the house.”

José remained quiet on the matter. He didn’t know where Luis was, if the man could even hear him, but that didn’t matter. He sighed out now and again, groaned quietly when Julian found tender points along the outsides of his thigh. He did his best to suppress the sound at first, but ultimately decided that it didn’t count as talking.

The bed shifted, creaking again. The springs groaned as Julian slid closer, dipping José’s weight for the rocking of the mattress. Bare skin touched to the outside of one oiled thigh, then the other. Slick fingers caught at José’s balls, and his lips parted in a gasp. He came so close to speaking, but bit down on the inside of his mouth. He stared at the dark swath of the blindfold and rocked his hips shamelessly as Julian’s fingers wrapped about José’s slowly swelling cock.

“Mmmn.” It was very nearly a mumble. José caught the slip of sound before it could turn to words.

Warm oil was spread up along José’s shaft, stroked across soft skin. Deft fingers went kneading along dense tissue, played over the matching columns of chrome balls that lined his cock. He gave a thicker, less reserved groan. The hinges whined, the sound carrying past José’s rapid breaths.

“Good,” Luis purred in approval as he stepped closer to the bed. “Do you like that, José? He’s good with his hands, isn’t he?”

Julian’s fingers tucked and gathered the loose skin at the top of Jose’s balls, stroking and rolling it against itself. Teased it up toward the hoop of metal that pierced the base of his cock.

“Yessss, sir.”

“Oh, very good.” Luis’ tone was husky with approval. “That’s enough, Julian. Get on with it.”

The bed shifted again, though the warmth of Julian’s straddle lingered across José’s thighs. There was more rustling. More curious sounds that José would have liked to identify with his eyes. His knuckles curled impatiently against the tops of his buttocks. The answer came an instant later in the form of pressure at the head of José’s cock. A firm grip accompanied the snug squeeze of latex about the head, followed the unrolling down to the base of his shaft. The sensation diffused in short order, and José sighed as the fingers left him again.

The heat of Julian’s body against José’s dwindled. The mattress moved. Knees slid up along José’s thighs. Up toward his waist. Past it to catch at the muscled contours of his sides. Then there was another sort of pressure. A different squeeze altogether. It, too, slid downward. Slow, but steady for the heavy application of oil along the condom. Luis groaned out, driving his hips up to meet the fall of Julian’s ass.

“Good.” Luis’ voice was near the head of the bed. “Your hands please, Julian.”

José knew the sound of rope hissing along rope when he heard it. His cock twitched eagerly within the warm pulsing of Julian’s ass. The gripping ring slid upward, the mattress dipped, and José caught light traces of talcum and lavender flowers. Julian’s knees slid back, his body following after. Further down the strain of José’s shaft again, though nowhere near a satisfying angle.

“Comfortable?”

“Yes, thank you,” Julian mumbled.

“I want more,” José very nearly whined. He gave a short buck of his hips and sagged back against the bed.

“Of course you do. What is the saying? Good things come to those who wait?”

The collar about José’s neck pulled snug at the back. He felt the metal ring slip along its catch. Julian’s breath hitched. The man moved again, squirming once more about José’s cock, and stilled at last with a spill of breath across cheek. Some of the pressure along José’s collar was released a moment later, but the strap continued to sit flush against his skin.

“I can wait, sir,” José said in an attempt to be reassuring.

“Of course you can, José.” Luis’ fingers wrapped about José’s balls as he spoke. “And you will. I’ve got some business to take care of.”

Luis’ familiar fingers pushed at the inside of José’s thigh. José rolled his leg outward, raised his hips again in a deeper plunge of cock within Julian’s ass. José sagged and sighed out in frustration. It was then that the little hoop between his ass and his balls was shifted. José moaned past the parting of his lips. Cool, tiny links of metal fell past the drape of his balls as Luis released them. They trailed up, past the base of his cock, where they lifted away from his skin. Above him, Julian gave a soft hiss.

“Oh!” Julian sagged over José, dragging wisps of soft, floral-scented hair along jaw.

“I’ll be back in.. oh, an hour or so. I expect you two to behave while I’m gone.”

“Yes, sir,” the pair in the bed murmured, nearly in unison. One high, rolling voice, the other a lowly intoned near-grumble.

The door slammed in its familiar rattling way. Another sigh came from above José. Julian sank slowly, relaxing down along José’s belly and chest with a dig of cock, tug of chain, and race of heart. José rolled his shoulders back and down, attempting to ease the pressure on his trapped arms.

“He’s not really gone, is he?” Julian asked with a quaver to his fluttery voice. “Because I’m tied, and you’re tied, and if something happens--”

“Shh,” José interrupted. “I can get out easy. Don’t freak.”

“Oh, good, I--”

It was the roll of José’s hips that interrupted Julian that time. José slid his cock deeper into the man, heels digging into the mattress. He was rewarded with a soft coo of delight. José drew slowly down again, sagging against the rumpled bedsheet. The chain drew tight, tugging at the hoop behind his balls and stilling him before he could curl too far away, draw too far out. Julian’s breath hitched.

“Ah. Nnn. Careful, José.”

“Oh, man. He really tied us together, didn’t he?”

“You could say that.”

José laughed. He sagged his head back against his pillow.

“Fuck. An hour’s a long time.”

José tucked his hips again, working himself into Julian as much as he could manage for the angle. The man shifted against him with a tense play of muscles beneath skin, straining to facilitate the brush of stimulation. The continued heat. José wanted nothing more than to buck hard and fast until he’d gotten off. An hour?!

It was the longest hour José could remember having to endure. He continued to shift and squirm, goading the body atop him into doing much the same. He rocked in shallow probes, breathed against the jutting of cock into his belly. The minutes passed in a jumble of uneven breaths, soft creaks of the bed, and the occasional bass thumping of a car rolling past outside. At least Julian didn’t insist on talking.

“I’m glad you two are enjoying yourselves.”

Luis. José hadn’t even heard him come in. He tensed in surprise, jolting a bit sharply into Julian, and then settled again into the bed. The sheet was an uncomfortable array of damp creases and rolls beneath him, made humid with sweat and tacky with massage oil. José wriggled his clumsy-feeling fingers and groaned in frustration.

The mattress sagged at the end of the bed, and the rusting old frame creaked. Luis’ familiar touch caught José about the ankles and pushed his legs wider. José dug his feet into the bed again, rocking into Julian as Luis’ fingers went probing along the crack of his ass. They were slick with the same perfumed oil that lingered in a thin sheen along José’s legs. One pressed and rocked, teasing along the puckered ring of muscle. It dipped inward, curled and thrust, slid out again. A second joined it for a sudden plunge, pumping slick and steady against the alarmed clench of José’s ass. His hips bucked upward, and he rocked into Julian as deep and hard as he could manage.

“He’s very pretty, José,” Luis purred from the foot of the bed. “It’s too bad you can't see him.”

Luis’ fingers stilled, then walked their way past José’s clutch and pulse in slow, shallow strokes. José sighed so heavily his lungs ached. He tipped partially out of Julian again, unable to quite settle against the pinning of his arms.

There was more movement above. The pressure of Julian’s body against José’s eased. The man stirred, shifting. He was tense where he brushed along José’s chest and side. A moan broke the air, long and soft and utterly unreserved. José’s cock twitched, and he licked eagerly at his lips. Found himself oddly jealous. What had caused Julian to moan like that?

Then the man’s weight was upon him again. He felt Julian’s hips lift, felt him slide and jostle. The angle set him so tight about José’s cock, though the angle was nearly painful. Breath hammered at José’s chest, skin connecting with skin near the puffs of air, hair tickling at his shoulder. Long and soft.

“Oooh,” Julian keened.

Something was nudging at the belly of José’s cock. Slick and probing, pushing at the stretch of muscle about his shaft. It slid inward, twisted about enough to reveal itself to be a finger. The warm press of Julian’s ass was made tighter as the tip of Luis’ finger wriggled and wormed its way up to brush at the head of José’s cock, to stroke along the slit where he was buried.

The sinuous contact withdrew after several seconds of this. Slid slowly down along José’s shaft, up again. Rubbing and brushing as Julian panted and sighed toward the flat of José’s sternum. José groaned and nudged into stroking finger. A second pushed and pried past the shifting balls of José’s piercings, slid along the slick latex of his condom. Stretched poor Julian that much wider. Deep and steady, the fingers curled, twisting, playing along José’s shaft in a steady stroke that plunged in and deep and slowly out again. A third finger nudged inward, smashing tight and stretching wide. José hissed through his teeth even as Julian trembled and gave another long whine through the roof of his mouth.

“Good,” Luis rumbled quietly.

José wasn’t certain if the man was talking to Julian, to him, or to the both of them. It didn’t matter. He warmed at the praise as he always did. He tipped his hips in short, eager jostles that had Julian panting against him. José grunted in frustration. The angle wasn’t enough to get in the way he wanted, though Luis’ stroking fingers certainly helped. Fingers that curled, twisted in deeper against the elastic tissue past the head of José’s cock, and withdrew altogether. Julian shuddered, and José lurched beneath him.

The bed went rocking again. Springs squeaked. The old frame creaked. José spread one of his aching knees wider. More pressure. More slick rubbing. It started at the base of his shaft, well clear of Julian’s ass, and stroked up toward the joining of heat. Down again, and up. Thick and slick and hard. It began to press, to compress José almost painfully within Julian. To stretch the wrought muscle further still. Stretch and push. Luis grunted, the sound full of effort, and Julian choked an odd, distorted noise against José’s chest.

There was a pop of giving resistance, a sudden glide as the head of Luis’ cock slid in past the flare at its base. As it ground against the lodge of José’s and plunged deeper still. The mattress rocked with the bracing of Luis’ hand, with the sudden forceful buck of hips that had him sinking deep. Sliding past the nubs of piercings and contours of flesh. Had the belly of his shaft riding up along the head of José’s cock in the most exquisite glide.

“Fuck,” José gasped.

“Now you may thank me,” Luis’ rumbling voice came from above, past the cringing body laid atop José.

“Thank you, sir.”

Skin smacked skin in a loud, stinging impact. Julian’s cry was exquisite, nearly a moan, and only a little pained. José gasped and lifted his hips beneath the weight of the other man, beneath the force of Luis’ bucking. They fell again quickly. It had been a long hour.

Luis’ cock drove in, rubbing steadily along José’s. The oil made everything glide, and the too-tight pressure gradually eased to something more enjoyable. José squirmed and shifted, fingers bunching between the bed and his ass. The tight grip of Julian’s ass was enthralling, especially when the both of them sank in together and pulled it about the thickening girth of their cocks. He attempted to match Luis’ thrusts, but they were driving steadily faster. Steadily deeper. He settled for bucking erratically when he could, for lurching and leaning into that slide of friction. Into the jostle of Julian’s body responding more to Luis’ thrusts than his own ineffectual writhing.

On and on they moved, and the sweat built along José’s skin. He was panting heavily, labored, so close to coming that it seemed all he could focus on. The more he focused, the further away the actual event seemed to be. The pressure building up was nearly unbearable, and he couldn’t tuck out enough to get a good angle. Almost there. Almost enough with that tight grip and Luis’ rubbing. Fucking. Deeper and harder and pounding in and out and in and out so fast. So very fast.

The tight clench of Julian’s ass about his cock went tighter still. José grunted, gasped softly as the muscle went from gripping to pulsing, spasming and clenching about Luis’ driving thrusts. A wet, warm puddle gathered on José’s belly, and soft lips smeared a series of wet kisses along the curvature of his chest. José groaned out loudly and bucked, bucked again.

“Good.” Luis’ panting breaths made the word nearly inarticulate. “You too, José. I want to feel you come in this tight white ass.”

José wanted to oblige. So badly. He jerked and tossed, working into Julian as best as he could manage. His back arched, hips raised, heels digging and knees thrown wide. His entire body was straining, burning with desire. He could feel the sweat gathering behind his knees, all along his spine. And Luis was there driving. On and on, so deep and relentless that Julian was set to squeaking and keening at nearly every impact.

The heat at his chest grew more intense. Skin bunched, gripped. A sting flared along José’s nerves as Julian’s teeth caught in a shallow bite. A bite that grew steadily harder. Deeper. It distracted José from his effort of driving in, sagging out until the chain tugged, and driving in again. The sensation drove through his focus, causing him to issue forth an angry growl and toss his head back against the pillow.

It came then, seemingly out of nowhere. Nevermind that it had been building for some time. Nevermind that he’d been fighting for it for so long. The wave of heat took his breath away, breaking into the middle of that bite. José’s growl transitioned to a groan. To gasping and thrashing beneath the drape and shift of the bodies above his own. He came hard, pulsing and aching, pushing himself in as far as he could manage. His cock surged again, again, as Luis’ thrusts angled to drive up in time with the burst of cum into the tip of his condom. José was dimly aware of the almost unbearable tightness of Julian’s ass in the mix of it, of the way that Luis growled and smacked home, of the wet squelching and soft smacks of skin. The short stabs that were familiar in their force and angle, so that as José came out of the crescendo of his own climax he could soak up the last sighs and lingering rocks of Luis’.

“Good.” Luis’ fingers swept along the side of José’s thigh. “Good,” he panted out again.

José winced as Luis pulled out. Altogether too fast. Always too abrupt. Julian trembled atop him. The mattress shifted, and José listened to the uneven gait shifting along the ratty carpeting. He listened to the hiss of rope, felt Julian slowly ease even further about him. Unfamiliar hands slid along the shaved crest of his skull in light petting. The ring on José’s collar fell back into place. His slack balls were grasped and pulled up, the chain untethered. Soft lips touched to his cheek, and a whisper curled secretively into his ear.

“Thank you.”

The air of the room felt remarkably cold when it rushed in to replace the heat where Julian’s body had been. José was dimly aware of the fact that his torso was smeared with cum, and that the sweat mingled with his own smelled vaguely of flowers. He rolled once he managed the energy to do so, tucked his sticky belly against the sticky sheet to let the circulation flood back through his arms. He was still breathing heavily, and the sound of water being gulped down made him thirsty.

Luis rumbled something quietly. Something José could not quite make out. Julian’s laugh followed, trailing toward the door. The two of them spoke in muted tones down the hall, leaving José to pant shallowly and slowly, slowly gather his wits. The front door whined open, closed again with a thump of deadbolt. The screen door rattled shut.

Warm fingers brushed along José’s in fond petting. The mattress dipped again. Rope slid along rope, the binds at his wrists slowly loosening. Luis said nothing. Neither did José. The soft petting along his spine was enough. The brush of Luis’ fingers over his shoulders. José’s hands were free, but he left the blindfold to Luis to remove. The room seemed too bright, but the offering of water was gratefully accepted. José twisted to the side and gulped it down as Luis spoke.

“Come on. Let’s go get cleaned up. I promised Martine we’d work on her porch today.”

José caught his breath, fingers tight about his water glass. He looked up at Luis and took the time to admire the jagged line of scar that notched the corner of the man’s jaw.

“Work, work, work. Fuck this, hammer that, fix Martine’s porch.” José grinned in the wake of his light words.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t push your luck or next time your treat will be getting left alone all day to be a lazy fucker.”

“That could be good,” José quipped as he pushed himself up to sit at the edge of the bed.

“Not if I tie you to the foot of the bed with a dildo stuck up your ass.”

José laughed richly at that. He eased into a stand, caught his hand about Luis’ arm, and leaned close to nip a kiss at the underside of the man’s jaw.

“I’ll go get cleaned up.”

“Good.”

José went trotting off with a grin. Good. He loved the way Luis said that. And really, it had been a very, very good morning.