The rain poured relentlessly outside the building, driven by the storm that had swallowed the city whole. Wind rattled the windows, cold seeping in through the walls, wrapping the morning in steel-gray gloom. Yet inside the apartment, none of that chill mattered.
What filled the room was warmth—thick, slow, and unmistakably charged.
Flynn was already breathless as Dylan deepened their kiss, seamlessly continuing what they had started. He didn't rush the moment. He kissed Flynn deliberately, savoring every sound that escaped his lips. Each press of their mouths grew heavier, until Flynn forgot how to pull away.
Dylan paused for a moment, just gazing at Flynn, his hand gently cupping and stroking his face. The world seemed to narrow to that quiet intimacy—but Flynn wasn't ready to stop. His lips pressed back to Dylan's, eager, insistent, as if every second apart was unbearable.
Dylan shifted slightly, pushing him back just enough to catch his breath. "Wait. Relax. We have plenty of time today," he murmured, his voice low and teasing.
Flynn's face fell slightly, a flash of disappointment crossing his features. Dylan smirked when he noticed it. "Open your mouth," he whispered.
"W-why?" Flynn asked, a mixture of curiosity and hesitation in his tone.
"Just... trust me," Dylan replied, eyes glinting with mischief.
Flynn slowly parted his lips, just enough to respond. The moment he did, Dylan slipped his tongue inside, teasingly exploring the warmth of Flynn's mouth. He moved with measured strokes, as if savoring every inch and reaction, tracing the contours with a careful hunger that made Flynn's breath hitch.
At first, what Dylan was doing felt strange to Flynn, until their tongues finally met inside his mouth. The sensation was indescribable—like electricity shooting from his toes all the way up to his head. Before he even realized it, their tongues were dancing together, a delicate battle of give and take, until Flynn found himself daringly slipping his own tongue into Dylan's mouth.
A soft, involuntary moan escaped him as Dylan responded, sucking gently but insistently.
Flynn's hands roamed to Dylan's back, fingers digging into him as he got lost in the overwhelming pleasure of their kiss. He didn't want it to end—not even for a second. Every nerve in his body screamed for more, and he felt himself teetering on the edge of madness, consumed by the fire of their shared desire.
Dylan could no longer hold back. Slowly, he began removing Flynn's shirt, revealing more of the heat beneath. Flynn responded immediately, pulling at Dylan's shirt and helping him strip it off as well.
Their kiss deepened, growing hungrier, until Dylan began exploring Flynn more boldly. His lips traced down to Flynn's neck, eliciting a sharp, breathy moan as the ticklish sensation made him squirm. Dylan didn't stop there—he moved lower, circling Flynn's nipples with his tongue, alternating gentle suckling with teasing licks.
Flynn writhed beneath him, overwhelmed by the intensity of Dylan's ministrations. His nails dug into Dylan's back, almost desperate to hold on as waves of sensation crashed over him. He had never felt anything like this before.
Flynn's moans grew louder as Dylan's lips and tongue traveled lower, teasing the sensitive skin along his torso. The ticklish, maddening sensations drove him wild, and still he wanted more, craving every careful, teasing stroke. Dylan, noticing his need, slowly slid off Flynn's shorts, exposing him fully. He watched him intently, hand moving over his slick length, inhaling the intoxicating scent of his masculinity. Without thinking, Dylan leaned in, tasting him, the warmth and wetness sending a surge of desire through him.
Flynn didn't notice at first—he thought Dylan was just stroking him. His arm draped over his own forehead as he leaned back, eyes shut, sinking into the pleasure of Dylan's touch. But then he felt a warm, wet heat slowly engulf him, the unmistakable sensation of someone taking him into their mouth, a fullness and slick pressure that sent teasing friction through him, making every nerve in his body scream.
"Uhh... shit..." Flynn groaned. When he opened his eyes, he saw Dylan eagerly taking him into his mouth.
"D-Dylan..." he stammered.
"Relax. I've got you. You'll enjoy this," Dylan murmured, taking him deeper, steady and deliberate.
Dylan hadn't thought he could do something like this—but seeing Flynn lose himself under his touch, hearing him moan, made it impossible to resist. He was completely captivated, unable to pull away from the way Flynn was practically begging for more.
Dylan continued, taking Flynn's cock into his mouth, moving slowly and carefully. He was still learning, making sure not to accidentally scrape it with his teeth. He moved up and down twice along the lower half, then followed with two slow strokes reaching all the way to the tip.
Flynn's back arched slightly. A soft, involuntary groan escaped him as his fingers twitched against Dylan's shoulders. A shiver ran through his hips with every careful movement of Dylan's mouth.
"Uhh... S-so good..." he breathed between strokes, his breath hitching, unable to keep quiet as Dylan teased him mercilessly.
When Dylan pulled back, he shifted to the floor and sank to his knees in front of Flynn, who was now seated on the edge of the couch. Carefully, he guided Flynn's legs apart, spreading them just enough to give himself clear access.
His hands cupped Flynn's balls, stroking and kneading them with deliberate care as his lips trailed down the inner thighs, licking along the sensitive skin and teasing the folds with an almost hungry urgency.
"Ah... fuck..." Flynn gasped, his back arching slightly, a shiver running through him. His fingers twitched against the couch cushion, and a soft moan slipped past his lips whenever Dylan's mouth brushed a particularly sensitive spot.
Dylan lavished attention on every inch, his hands and mouth moving in perfect tandem, each stroke and lick designed to draw out the sharpest jolts of pleasure. Flynn's breath came in short, shaky bursts, his hips pressing instinctively toward Dylan as waves of heat rolled over him.
"Uhh... yes... D-Dylan..." he whimpered, completely lost in the sensations, reacting instinctively to every careful, teasing movement.
Satisfied that he had Flynn thoroughly teased and gasping, Dylan returned to his cock, taking it into his mouth again. He licked from base to tip, circling the head with the tip of his tongue, tracing it with precision, every movement deliberate, designed to draw out every shiver, every gasp of pleasure.
Flynn tugged at Dylan, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure of what he was doing, until he felt himself teetering on the edge.
"I-I'm close," Flynn gasped, trying to pull his cock from Dylan's mouth. But Dylan just pushed his hand away and began stroking him in time with his mouth, keeping him on the brink.
Flynn's moans grew louder, crashing like thunder through the room, his hands clutching Dylan tightly, legs kicking and trembling as waves of heat and pleasure rolled over him.
"Ahhh... fuck... D-Dylan, I'm gonna c—" Flynn gasped, his voice tight with urgency, trying to pull him away, afraid he might finish in Dylan's mouth. But Dylan didn't budge. He only took him deeper, holding him there, riding him straight through the edge until Flynn finally came, spilling into his mouth.
"Ahhh... yes... fuck..." Flynn groaned again, still consumed by the sensation as Dylan continued to suck him, coaxing every last drop. He could only grip the back of Dylan's head, unable to pull away before the climax.
Afterwards, Dylan slowly worked Flynn's cock in his mouth, gently licking and sucking as he pulled back, making sure nothing of Flynn's release was left behind.
Flynn's face flushed with embarrassment. He quickly grabbed a tissue from the small table beside the couch and wiped at Dylan's mouth.
"S-sorry... I told you I was gonna come," Flynn stammered, dabbing at Dylan's lips.
"It's fine," Dylan said, a smirk tugging at his mouth. "I couldn't stop myself from swallowing."
As he spoke, Dylan rose to his feet in front of Flynn, peeling off his shorts. His cock sprang free, hard and throbbing, almost animalistic in its intensity after being held back.
"It's your turn." Dylan murmured, standing there, eyes locked on Flynn's, waiting, patient yet commanding.
Flynn hesitated. He'd never even touched another man's cock before—how could he possibly suck Dylan now?
"Are you just gonna stare?" Dylan said, voice low and teasing. "He's angry... been waiting to be tamed for a while now." He let his gaze drop down to himself, fully erect, daring Flynn to act.
Flynn realized it wouldn't be fair if he was the only one being satisfied. He swallowed nervously and slowly raised his hand to wrap around Dylan's cock. He hadn't expected it to be so big—he could barely fit his hand around it. As he started stroking, he estimated it was about seven inches long.
Dylan's body reacted immediately, a shiver running through him the moment Flynn's hand made contact.
Taking a small step closer, Dylan positioned himself so that his cock hovered just in front of Flynn's lips. Slowly, Flynn parted his lips and inched them closer to Dylan's length.
"Uughghh... fuck, yes that's it Flynn..." Dylan groaned as Flynn finally took him into his mouth.
Because of Dylan's size and length, Flynn struggled to take him all the way. He had to open his mouth as wide as he could, almost half-lapping to accommodate him.
As Flynn began sucking, his own cock gradually stiffened again. The pace of his movements quickened, driven by the arousal and the addictive scent of Dylan's pubic hair. Overwhelmed by lust, Flynn's hand wandered to his own cock, causing him to lose focus for a moment. He didn't even notice when his teeth grazed Dylan's shaft.
"A-argh... w-wait... Flynn..." Dylan gasped, holding the back of Flynn's head to gently stop him.
"S-sorry... I'm not used to it. Your cock's just too big," Flynn admitted, flushed and hesitant.
Dylan smirked at him. "I know. No pressure. Just focus and do it like I did with you," he said, kneeling in front of Flynn.
Flynn nodded, swallowing his nerves, and Dylan leaned in to kiss him deeply, letting the heat of the moment build between them. Slowly, Dylan shifted his weight and moved toward the couch, gently guiding Flynn to the floor in front of him. As they moved, their lips stayed locked, a soft, lingering kiss that kept the intimacy alive through the transition.
Now, Dylan sat back on the couch in a relaxed, commanding manspread, hands resting behind his head, fully exposed, as Flynn knelt on the floor before him.
Dylan groaned as Flynn's lips resumed sucking his cock, tentative at first. Dylan guided him gently with his hands, tilting his hips to give Flynn the best angle.
"Ughh fuck... keep going... you'll get the hang of it," he murmured, his voice rough with need.
Flynn took Dylan in carefully, remembering every movement Dylan had used on him. He started slowly, lips and tongue working in unison, moving from base to tip, circling the head, taking cues from Dylan's own reactions. Each suck and flick of his tongue was deliberate, teasing, measured—just like Dylan had done to him.
Dylan's back arched, a deep moan escaping as he placed his hands on Flynn's shoulders, steadying himself while guiding him. "Yes... just like that," he groaned, his hips pressing down slightly, encouraging Flynn to explore further.
As Flynn continued, his own cock stirred again, responding to the sight, the scent, and the heat of Dylan's reactions. He adjusted his movements, stroking and licking in rhythm with Dylan's subtle thrusts, matching every nuance of pleasure he'd felt before. Dylan's groans grew louder, his body tense with need, while Flynn's concentration sharpened, eager to give him the same overwhelming sensations he had experienced moments ago.
Every rise and fall, every careful flick and suck, sent shivers through Dylan's body, his hips pressing down slightly as pleasure built higher and higher. "Ahhh, fuck... your mouth feels so good," he gasped, lost in the sensation while Flynn trembled on his knees, moving with instinctive rhythm.
After several minutes of Flynn pleasuring him, Dylan felt himself nearing the edge. Gripping Flynn's head firmly with both hands, he slightly quickened the pace, driving Flynn deeper. "Ughh... shit... I'm gonna come," he groaned.
Even as he said it, Flynn didn't pull back. Instead, he kept going, taking Dylan in with determined enthusiasm while stroking him in sync. Curious from before—after Dylan had swallowed his own release—Flynn now wanted to taste Dylan too.
It didn't take long before Dylan finally spilled, erupting fully into Flynn's mouth. Three strong, hot spurts filled him.
"Fuck... yes, Flynn... take it all," Dylan gasped, trembling with pleasure, a thunderclap outside punctuating every shiver.
Flynn swallowed carefully, the warmth filling his mouth. He froze for a brief second, eyes widening as the distinct, salty-sweet taste hit him. A shiver ran down his spine—part surprise, part excitement. He could feel the pulse of Dylan's release on his tongue, the subtle thickness making him gasp softly.
Dylan's hands gripped Flynn's shoulders, pulling him closer, guiding him backward toward the couch. They collapsed onto it together, bodies tangled, breathless, chests heaving, caught between the aftershocks of pleasure and exhaustion.
Dylan leaned in, pressing his lips to Flynn's in a slow, lingering kiss. The taste of their shared release mingled on their tongues, and for a moment, neither moved, just savoring the closeness and the intimacy.
Pulling back slightly, Dylan brushed his lips against Flynn's cheek and whispered, "Thank you."
Flynn could only nod, still breathless, heart racing. Slowly, the heat and adrenaline gave way to drowsiness. Side by side on the couch, tangled and warm, they drifted into a deep, contented sleep, the storm outside fading into the background as they held each other in quiet intimacy.