Free ConvenientStrangers by Cara McKenna

eyes as Adam touched him, rubbing his
thighs and stomach and sides, glancing his balls, taunting his dick with light
strokes. His fingers slipped lower and Stephen brought his legs up and opened
his eyes.
    He hadn’t felt this way in so long. When he’d been younger
he’d hated it, so hell-bent on being the “man” in a coupling, so desperate to
be the fucker, not the fucked. He blamed his upbringing. Be a man, son. Translation, if you’re a fag, you’re dead to me . Stephen couldn’t have
helped that, and he’d spat on his father’s unspoken pleas.
    Still, even unapologetically, openly gay, those damn
messages had been ingrained, and he’d been a complete dick for the first ten
years of his out adulthood, insulted to be asked to get topped by anyone. He
was gay, but he wasn’t one of those fags. He’d fuck them, but he wasn’t one
of them . Then he’d grown up, fallen in love a couple times with those kinds of fags and gotten over himself. Gotten over himself even further by
dating a self-hating closet case, and realizing how maddening and pointless it
was, trying to keep a stranglehold on one’s own perception of masculinity, when
it was, after all, men you chose to kiss and screw and fall in love with.
    Still, there’d always be a part of him that would resist
being the bottom. Like his accent, it was a piece of his upbringing doomed to
follow him around for the rest of his life, never quite erased. But tonight,
right now, there was no place he’d rather be than flat on his back, at the
mercy of another man’s desires.
    He watched Adam drip lube across the pads of two fingers,
and his mouth fell open as the wetness cooled his skin. Adam seemed as
impatient as Stephen felt, wasting little time teasing before he eased his middle
finger inside.
    Fuck. Stephen had forgotten how this felt, the intrusion as
potent psychologically as it was physically. But his body wanted this. No pain,
only the dirty, alien sensation he’d given up for so long.
    “I’ve missed this,” he whispered.
    Adam smiled, looking wicked. “Me too.” He added his index
finger, pumping Stephen slowly, easing the way. His cock was hard, beading with
arousal, and Stephen imagined it disappearing inside him. Imagined flashes of
that swollen flesh as he got fucked, imagined it driving deep as Adam fell to
pieces before him. Above him.
    “Take me.”
    “Now?”
    “Yeah.” Fuck perfect preparation. Bring the sting, bring the
burn, he just wanted to feel this act for what it was—violation. He wanted to
see it in the light and record every last second of his own submission. “Go
slow, but I want your cock.”
    Adam glanced to the side table and Stephen grabbed a condom
for him, opening it. He sat up to pinch the end and slide it down Adam’s
length. Adam took hold of himself as Stephen reclined, and both sets of eyes
locked on the same spot. Adam slicked himself with lube, eased a final
fingerful inside Stephen. The filling sensation had his muscles twitching in
alarm, his breath short.
    “You. Now.” He was topping from the bottom, but fuck it. He
was a bossy son of a bitch. No changing that.
    Adam got himself lined up and the pressure arrived.
    Stephen gasped. Of course it was more demanding than two
fingers, but Jesus, he’d forgotten how this felt. He shut his eyes and softened
his body, breathing mindfully until Adam could push deeper, crown breaking
through the first threshold.
    “Oh fuck.”
    “Still okay?” Adam asked.
    Stephen opened his eyes, finding the man in deep
concentration, jaw set, gaze aimed at the point of penetration. “I’m good. Keep
going.”
    Another push, another flash of welcome pain, then utter
surrender. Stephen’s spine went slack as his body gave in, inviting the
intrusion. Adam slid out and lubed up, drove back in to the same depth.
    “That’s good,” Stephen murmured. He watched as another inch
claimed him, pleasure rising. He laid his hand on his soft cock, not stroking,
just holding,