(SASHA)
I smear his hole with slick and slap the rest on myself. There's not enough of it. I haven't fucked him for weeks—months—and I worry that I'll hurt him, that he'll be out of practice, but the second I get my cockhead into his ass, feel his ring around me, tight but welcoming, all my anxieties go up in a puff of smoke, incinerated as my fire for him rages out of control.
"Fuck." I'm the one who curses, and I keep cursing, hissing out words as I shove my way into him inch by inch—Christ, fuck, fuck, Tyler, oh fuck—as though I'm the one having a dick crammed into my ass with minimal prep in a reeking Roman back alley. He feels unyielding all the way in until he isn't, suddenly, his body giving way, and I swear to God I can feel his soul opening up to me along with his gut.
