Just a Game Ch. 03

"Pete... can I... can I cum...?" he panted after a few more minutes of this.

Pete's jaw dropped. Being asked for permission was wholly unexpected, and it not only brought his cock to prodigious hardness, but also inspired an instantaneous and perfectly lucid picture of his role.

"No!" he said firmly, dropping the one leg he'd still had propped on his shoulder and gripping both of Dean's hands to stop them. "Don't you dare cum."

Dean's eyes grew very wide. He held perfectly still except for his rapid breathing.

"You cum when I say you can," Pete continued, "and not before. Or I'll punish you. Are you gonna be a good little bitch?" He had no idea where this talk was coming from, but his intense gaze didn't waver. He grabbed the most convenient condom, tore it open with his teeth, and put it on without looking.

Dean's breaths grew steadier. His eyes burned brightly. "Yes, yes--I'll be so good for you."

Pete felt possessed. He didn't think--he simply acted. He reached for the round base of the silicone toy, pulled it out of Dean with a gentle tug, eliciting a brief moan from him, and dropped it off the side of the bed. Barely pausing, he gripped Dean by his shiny red boots, forced his legs up into the air, and mounted him swiftly, spearing his entire length into Dean's tight, lubed-up opening all at once.

"AHFUCK--!" Dean screamed, tensing up.

"Oh shit!" Pete cried, the fantasy disappearing as instantaneously as it had come over him. He watched Dean's mouth lock in a rictus of agony. "Should I pull out?!"

"No-no-no-stop!" Dean hollered, his voice tight and cracking. He pressed one hand against Pete's chest. "Just don't move, don't move, stay right where you are."

"Shit, Dean, I'm so sorry!" Pete was shaky with panic but trying very hard not to move at all.

"Shhhh just stay...." Dean exhaled. His face was very flushed, eyes round and glassy. After a few moments large tears began to roll down his temples. His breathing was slow, deep, and shivery. He made eye contact with Pete and sobbed once, softly.

"Oh fuck, oh shit, Dean... oh goddamn, I'm so, so, sorry... I got carried away!" Pete babbled, still gripping him by the boots. "Are you okay? Just tell me what to do!"

"Shhhh." Dean's hand slid up to Pete's stubbly cheek and cupped it affectionately. Tears continued to course from his dark, gleaming eyes. "It's okay... Pete, I'm okay. It hurts like a sonofabitch... but it'll pass. Just... so much cock at once. I... need to get used to... your size. Stay inside me... till it doesn't hurt anymore."

Pete nodded, blinking rapidly. He watched Dean intently as he panted and cried. A maelstrom of emotion surged up in his chest. He turned his head to one side and placed a kiss on one of Dean's red boots.

Dean tugged on his shirt. Keeping his hips in place, Pete leaned down carefully, letting go of Dean's legs, which settled naturally around his middle. He propped his hands just above Dean's shoulders, their faces now inches apart. Pete paused before closing the distance and nudging his glasses out of the way with his nose. He kissed the corners of his eyes, and licked the salty trails of tears. Dean shuddered. Pete felt a throb against his belly.

"You're still hard," Pete whispered, equally fascinated and aroused.

Dean nodded. "There's a fine line between pleasure and pain when you're horny, Pete," he whispered back. He smiled slowly. "Your cock... how does it feel inside me?"

"Fucking incredible," Pete replied, finally paying attention fully to the sensation of being inside him to the hilt. "You're so... so... tight."

"You're telling me," Dean squeaked out, making a noise between a chuckle and a sob.

Pete smiled unsteadily and gazed at his red, red lips. "Pretty..." he whispered, and kissed him.

Dean's body arched against him. He inhaled deeply through his nose, and his cock throbbed again. Pete slipped his tongue past Dean's buttery-soft lips and deepened the kiss. His mouth was delicious and felt every bit as sexy as it had looked. As much as he had been looking forward to fucking Dean, he had never envisioned the possibility of kissing him. Now he couldn't get enough. He devoured his mouth, craving and lusting after it. No girl he'd ever made out with had much enjoyed Pete's aggressiveness with his tongue, but Dean seemed to be melting. Dean's tongue sparred with his a little, but mostly he just relaxed and accepted it with wanton moans.

When Pete finally broke the kiss, they stared at each other, panting.

"You... got a little lipstick on you," Dean breathed, smiling euphorically.

"I can live with that," Pete decided, lifting a hand off the bed so he could wipe away a red smear from Dean's chin. "You're a hot mess. I guess we both are."

"Mm-hm," Dean sighed, clamping his legs tighter around Pete's middle. "You feel... really good. Still hurts a bit... but kinda in a good way. Move a little? Just... out a few inches, and then back in... slowly."

Pete nodded and propped himself up again, pulling out about halfway as he watched Dean's eyes, which were especially mesmerizing with his glasses out of the way. Gradually he pushed back in, making Dean gasp.

"Okay? You okay?" Pete asked quickly. "You need to tell me if I'm hurting you too much!"

Dean nodded a little and stayed silent, a few more tears spilling from the corners of his eyes. By now his eye makeup was blurred and smudged. "O-okay... I don't think I can do this," he said tremulously. "Could you pull out... carefully?"

"All right." Pete withdrew his cock with meticulous slowness and removed the condom with a sigh. He flopped down on the bed next to Dean.

"I'm really sorry," Dean mumbled, turning over so that his back faced Pete. "Really, really sorry. I wanted to... I thought I could. You must be really disappointed with me."

Pete moulded his body against Dean's, spooning him. He reached a hand around and found Dean's, lacing their fingers together. "Well... I'm a little disappointed, but I mean... not with you. Just... the situation. It's really okay. I don't know that I could shove anything up my ass. You shouldn't do anything that hurts you."

Dean trembled, starting to sob again. "I just... I wanted to be everything for you. All the stuff we planned... you were so excited. And I couldn't handle it. I feel so bad."

"Dean, stop. It's okay."

"I wanted to be your fucktoy so badly. Maybe I still can...? Maybe if I practice a lot, and work my way up to a bigger plug. Maybe I just need to get used to it, and then it'll be better."

"Maybe, but only if that's something you want."

"It's everything I want!" Dean squeezed his hand, sniffling. "To be your very own fucktoy--Pete, I'm so sorry!"

"Dean. It's okay."

"I feel so bad...."

"It's okay!" Pete exclaimed, hugging him tightly from behind. "We can fuck when you're ready. And if you're never ready, we don't have to. Stop beating yourself up--that's an order, sailor!"

Dean hiccuped and managed a brief laugh. "Pete... you're so good to me."

"Ah, forget it."

"No. I won't forget it." He sighed, pushing his rump back against Pete, whose erection had mostly flagged by this point. "It's just... so different in porn. They make ass-fucking look as easy as anything."

Pete chuckled. "It's porn, you dingus!" He ruffled Dean's hair, and then went back to holding his hand. "Guys who do gay porn must have assholes of steel. When is anything ever like it is on the Internet?"

"I guess you're right." He sighed again. "I really did like it, though... once the pain had gone down a bit. The feeling of you inside me. I think I'd like to try again soon."

"Whatever you like, beautiful." Pete kissed the back of his neck, making him shiver.

"Mmm... Petey... I think the best part was... when you kissed me."

Pete smiled at the back of his head. "Didn't plan on that one. But... yeah... it was pretty awesome."

Dean moved their entangled hands toward his mouth and kissed Pete's knuckles. "This has been... really incredible. How about I give you another blowjob, since the... other thing... didn't quite work out?"

"It's okay--you don't owe me anything."

"I just want to make sure you're taken care of."

"I'm actually pretty satisfied, Dean." He kissed Dean's shoulder. "There's kinda only one thing I want right now."

"What is it? I'll do my best to make you happy."

"Sit up."

Dean pushed himself up to a sitting position and faced Pete with a small, bashful smile, his eyes rimmed with red and smudges of black, his cheeks still rosy. Pete grabbed his costume by the skirt and began to slide it up. Dean raised his arms, allowing Pete to strip him completely naked save for the boots. Pete then found Dean's glasses and placed them carefully back on him. Dean watched him curiously, and sucked in a quick breath when Pete started peeling off his t-shirt.

"Uh... I know you wanted me naked," Pete mumbled, avoiding eye contact as he tossed the shirt aside. "I'm not much to look at, but... you deserve to have what you want."

Dean grinned and reached for him, combing his fingers through his thicket of chest hair and grabbing handfuls of the flab on his belly. "You're... just right," he said, leaning in and wrapping his arms snugly around Pete. He straddled his lap, hugging him with as much of his body as possible.

Pete returned the embrace, still feeling self-conscious but enjoying the sensation of flesh-on-flesh more and more by the second. "You don't need to humour me. I'm a fat slob."

"You're not fat," Dean soothed, massaging the back of his neck. "You're... stout. Won't you grow your beard out for me? You'd make such a sexy dwarf; I'd barely be able to keep my hands off you, ever!"

Pete chuckled. Dean's obsession with dwarves had always perplexed him, but now he couldn't help finding it adorable. "I'll think about it. Maybe you could work on growing a pair of pointy elf ears, hmm?" He felt a hard throb against his belly and sucked in a sharp breath. "Oh, I'm such an ass--I never let you cum!"

"You don't need to worry about me." Dean nuzzled against his neck.

"Shut it," Pete said firmly. He took Dean's shoulders and held him at arm's length. After a few moments of studying him soberly, he took his face between his hands and kissed him roughly, deeply. He finished by biting down firmly on Dean's bottom lip. "I want you to cum for me, and if you take more than five minutes, I'm gonna whup you good!"

Dean tried and failed to hold back an enormous grin. "Where do you want me?" he huffed, inflamed by the brusque treatment.

Pete leaned back against the wall, legs splayed apart. He faced Dean away from him and pulled him close so that he leaned back against him. Reaching around him with both hands, he took hold of Dean's hard-on, which hadn't flagged for even a minute. The tip was a deep crimson and drooling precum.

"I'm gonna give you a nice handjob," Pete whispered into Dean's ear. "Just relax and enjoy."

"Mmmm... Petey... I'm so lucky," Dean sighed, his head resting comfortably on Pete's shoulder. He found the lube bottle and flipped open the cap, drizzling it all over his cock and Pete's hands.

"That's nice," Pete whispered, enjoying the slick, silky sensation of his hands sliding over Dean's hard flesh.

"Your hands... ohh...," Dean moaned, squirming a little. "Nice, thick, rugged hands... like the hands of a dwarvish smith. Oh--! Like that, yes, just like that!" He gripped Pete's thighs and thrust his hips upward.

"Aye, there's a good lad," Pete rumbled deep in his throat, feigning a Scottish accent. "Every good smith knows how to handle his tools."

Dean arched his back and groaned euphorically.

"You like that?" Pete chuckled, tickled by how powerfully Dean responded to his half-assed roleplay. Still stroking and squeezing the excited member in his hands, he deepened his voice and again assumed the accent: "Never thought I'd die fightin' side by side with an elf."

Dean grinned hugely and arched once more. "How about... side by side... with a friend...?" he panted.

"Aye," Pete breathed closely into his ear, and flicked his tongue against the lobe. "I could do that."

"Huhh... hnghh..." Dean groaned, thrusting enthusiastically.

"Cum!" Pete snarled, and in moments he could feel the surge of an orgasm bursting forth from the tool he clutched in his fists. He angled it so that Dean's issue would splatter all over his front. The first spurt shot forth with unexpected power, leaving an intermittent trail from his bellybutton all the way up to Dean's face, even his hair. Pete felt a single drop hit his own cheek. He breathed raggedly as he continued to stroke Dean's cock, coaxing forth every last bit of his pleasure.

"Fuck, Dean... wow, that was a hell of a cum!" he marvelled.

Dean slowly eased his grip on Pete's thighs and struggled to calm his frantic breathing. "Am I alive?" he squeaked out. "I swear I went blind for a sec there."

Pete chuckled and finally let go of him, grabbing his t-shirt to wipe his hands. "Wow, what a mess you made!" He kissed the edge of his ear. "Good boy."

Dean shivered. "Pete... thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I can't even describe how incredible that was. This has been... the best day of my life."

"It's been pretty goddamn memorable, for sure," Pete sighed. "Turn around--let me see you."

Dean sat up a little and rotated to face him. His face lit up. "Oh--I got you a little!" he giggled, and darted forward to lick the milky droplet from Pete's cheek.

Pete grinned, looking over the splatters on Dean's chin, glasses, and hair. "You got yourself a hell of a lot, you horny little weirdo. I can't believe you got off on my crappy Gimli accent!"

Dean looked sheepish for a moment and shrugged. "I am what I am."

"Nerd," Pete teased. He leaned in and experimentally flicked his tongue against one of the cum splotches on Dean's chin. He scrunched his face up thoughtfully.

"How do I taste?"

Pete cocked his head. "I could... maybe get used to it."

"You don't have to be a cumslut," Dean chuckled, kissing his cheek before grabbing his t-shirt and cleaning himself off from head to junk.

"Well... maybe one of these days I could pay you back for that spectacular blowjob," Pete suggested. His brow furrowed suddenly. "Hey--did you get makeup on my shirt, butthead?"

Dean looked down at Pete's soiled t-shirt and noticed several smudges of red and black had come off when he'd wiped his face with it. "Oh... oh, I'm sorry Pete!" he exclaimed, stricken. "If I wash it right away, maybe it'll all come out!"

Pete grabbed his arm when he attempted to jump up. "Nope," he said firmly, bending Dean over his lap. The shirt dropped to the floor. "You ruined it--now you get punished!" He gave Dean's behind a firm smack, causing him to emit an extremely unmanly noise. He gave two more sound smacks and then rolled him onto his back.

"Mmm... I deserved that," Dean sighed, gazing up at him with humility and adoration.

"Yes you did," Pete replied gruffly, and then grinned. "I don't give a crap about the shirt, Dean, but man, you're cute when you grovel." He stretched out on the bed next to him and pulled him close. "Right now I have to cuddle the hell outta you... then maybe we can order some pizza, because I'm starving."

Dean nestled in against him with another contented sigh. "In the morning... when I'm reasonably sure I'll be able to walk again... I'll make you breakfast. I'll make you breakfast every day. I love taking care of you."

Pete moaned happily, squeezing him tightly. "I'd argue, but I can't cook for shit. Your breakfasts are so fucking good!"

"I'll be a good little wifey," Dean promised. He was quiet for a minute or two, and then began singing passionately, "I just died in your arms toniiiight..."

Pete clamped a hand over his mouth swiftly. "Don't you ever sing soft rock at me again," he hissed into his ear, and then bit it.

Dean yelped, and burst into giggles the moment Pete had let go of his mouth. "You gonna spank me again?"

"I might have to." Pete slid his hand down Dean's nearly hairless chest and flat belly, and found his dick with some surprise. "Shit, you're still horny?"

Dean laughed again. "I'm insatiable around you," he said puckishly, wriggling against him.

Pete rolled atop him and grappled with him playfully before pinning him down. "Didn't you tell me once that the ancient Greeks wrestled naked?"

Dean nodded. "However did they keep from getting all turned on?"

"I guess they weren't a bunch of gay nerds," Pete snickered, tousling his hair before calming suddenly and leaning down to kiss him, soft and slow. He whispered against Dean's mouth: "They really missed out. Gay nerds are a hell of a lot of fun."

Dean wrapped his arms and legs around him. "So are surly dwarves," he murmured. "I'd take you over an army of Greeks any day."

Pete chuckled and reached down to smack his bottom lightly. "With this tender little ass? As if you could handle a mob of horny wrestlers."

Dean pouted prettily, and Pete took the opportunity to nibble on his protruding lip. Dean gasped and opened his mouth; Pete plunged his tongue in and feasted on him voraciously.

"Pete," Dean whispered after a few minutes of heavy making out. "Did you really mean it... about 'liking' me? Or... was that mainly your penis talking?"

Pete sat between his knees and unzipped the red boots, carefully slipping them off him. "Well, my dick has been pretty outspoken today--I blame it for making me get too rough with you--but yeah. I mean... from the heart, man. Like you a lot." He grinned and leaned back down to kiss his cheek. "Enough that I don't think I'll be looking for a girlfriend anytime soon."

Dean beamed. "Really? I get you all to myself? You don't have to feel obligated... ever. I'll take what I can get."

Pete kissed his other cheek. "You deserve better than table scraps."

Dean's eyes glinted, the corners of his mouth twitching. "Woof," he said softly, and stuck his tongue out, panting noisily.

"Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy?!" Pete laughed, ruffling his hair. "We need to get you a leash. Hey, let's go hit the showers and then we'll get that pizza, all right?" He climbed down off the bed and whistled. "C'mon, boy! Man's best friend, huh?"

"Woof!" Dean exclaimed, grinning like an idiot as he hopped down and trailed after Pete, scrambling along on all fours, an adoring pup after his master.