[ How could he ever replicate this feeling? This moment? How would anything outdo this discovery? There was something insurmountable about it, and yet it seemed to him that each moment only topped the last, rising higher and higher in tumultuous crescendo.
For now, his high was inescapable. Two of his fingers were encircled by silken heat, buried intimately inside the body of his former partner, who was panting and rocking back against him with every twist and thrust. His current partner's hand was exploring him, touching everywhere with no discernible pattern, like a blind man learning the contours and creases of a lover's face; that hand was driving him crazy too, making him whimper, rolling his hips disjointedly against the back of his own wrist, the hard flat of Ray's left buttock, as though to seek some kind of steady, predictable friction.
But that was then, and this was now, higher still, Kowalski coming back to full height between Ray and the wall, and Fraser raised his eyes from Vecchio's shoulders and watched the two of them kiss. He shuddered at the flash of salaciousness in Stanley's eyes, the danger, and then Ray was turning too, looking back at him unseeingly, his dark lashes low over even darker eyes as he panted instructions. Stanley's clever hand had found its way back to him, but now it was stroking - no, it couldn't be called stroking, the touches were featherlight like gnat wings, the lubricant stealing most of the friction away - from base to tip and back again. Finally the rhythm he'd wanted, but none of the urgency.
He didn't know if Ray's instructions were sound, or from where the voice of experience came from, but they suited him just fine in terms of expediting this little affair. He longed to press into that heat and tightness and set his own rhythm, and now that he could see Stanley's eyes over Ray's shoulder it seemed to him that everything was set in place, that they were all exactly where they needed to be, and that the next height--the next height would be the last, the one where the air thinned beyond their ability to withstand it before they plummeted once more to earth.
His hands - slippery from the lube - knotted into the top of Ray's thighs, spreading his legs as he lifted him clean off the floor - maybe further than he ought to have, but Ray hadn't specified. Ray's knees bumped against the plaster, and Fraser felt through him the softer impact as the motion brought him hip to hip with Stanley.
This was it. His legs held fast, his gaze hunted his partner's-- ]
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For now, his high was inescapable. Two of his fingers were encircled by silken heat, buried intimately inside the body of his former partner, who was panting and rocking back against him with every twist and thrust. His current partner's hand was exploring him, touching everywhere with no discernible pattern, like a blind man learning the contours and creases of a lover's face; that hand was driving him crazy too, making him whimper, rolling his hips disjointedly against the back of his own wrist, the hard flat of Ray's left buttock, as though to seek some kind of steady, predictable friction.
But that was then, and this was now, higher still, Kowalski coming back to full height between Ray and the wall, and Fraser raised his eyes from Vecchio's shoulders and watched the two of them kiss. He shuddered at the flash of salaciousness in Stanley's eyes, the danger, and then Ray was turning too, looking back at him unseeingly, his dark lashes low over even darker eyes as he panted instructions. Stanley's clever hand had found its way back to him, but now it was stroking - no, it couldn't be called stroking, the touches were featherlight like gnat wings, the lubricant stealing most of the friction away - from base to tip and back again. Finally the rhythm he'd wanted, but none of the urgency.
He didn't know if Ray's instructions were sound, or from where the voice of experience came from, but they suited him just fine in terms of expediting this little affair. He longed to press into that heat and tightness and set his own rhythm, and now that he could see Stanley's eyes over Ray's shoulder it seemed to him that everything was set in place, that they were all exactly where they needed to be, and that the next height--the next height would be the last, the one where the air thinned beyond their ability to withstand it before they plummeted once more to earth.
His hands - slippery from the lube - knotted into the top of Ray's thighs, spreading his legs as he lifted him clean off the floor - maybe further than he ought to have, but Ray hadn't specified. Ray's knees bumped against the plaster, and Fraser felt through him the softer impact as the motion brought him hip to hip with Stanley.
This was it. His legs held fast, his gaze hunted his partner's-- ]