Bob wasn’t expecting it in the least. He was just laying back on the million hotel pillows, hair half tied up and a book on his knees. He was wearing a pair of dark blue bikini briefs and one of John’s old football shirts, not to be sexy but because he thought it was comfortable.

To his knowledge, John was in the bathroom solely to piss and brush his teeth. But when the door opened, John was not wearing his pajamas, he was wearing the green camouflage Bob had fantasized about so many times. Bob’s eyes widened, his book sliding clean off his lap.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. John looked good in the old pictures, but he looked even better that night. The uniform was a little tighter than it used to be, but Bob fucking loved the way it pulled a little on his biceps, how he could see the curve of John’s belly. “Where did you get that?”

“Olivia’s place,” John answered. He stepped closer to the light, revealing his flushed pink cheeks. God, he looked adorable. “It was still hanging in the back of the closet. Do you like it? Because I have to be honest, I was looking at it in the mirror for like ten minutes debating and I don’t think it’s flattering anymore.”

Rather than answer with his words, Bob lowered his knees to the outside and nodded at the growing bulge between his legs. What was not to like? The way the fabric hugged John’s ass? How it hung over his tits? John was even wearing the boots and fuck, did Bob want to be stepped on.

“Would you, um—” God, Bob really was flustered. Since when did he have trouble asking for what he wanted? There were very few kinks he was embarrassed to admit to having. “Would you, y’know, give me orders? You give me orders and I’ll do— I’ll do anything.”

“Jesus, you’re really into this?” Bob nodded, gaze flickering to John’s bulge. He’d get on his knees and suck on the fabric if John asked him to. “All right, uh…” He did that sexy thing where he tilted his head and rolled his shoulders. “Get on your feet.”

“Yes, sir.”

John’s gaze trailed down Bob’s body as he followed the command. “Take off your shirt.”

“Yes, sir,” Bob repeated, and within seconds the shirt was crumpled on the floor.

“On your knees in front of me.” The moment Bob dropped down within reach, John’s right hand found his little bun and tugged on it, urging Bob’s face toward his bulge. He nudged Bob’s chin toward the fabric, then undid his belt and zipper himself. Bob stared up at him, glancing between John’s eyes and his clothed cock. “You want to suck my cock?”

What else could he say except, “Yes, sir.”

“Open wide.”

Bob was greedy. So greedy that he didn’t wait for John’s cock to spring free, he just chased it. The tip of John’s cock brushed against his chin, and he ducked to take it inside, swallowing his tip in an easy movement. It was a little more difficult to keep pushing forward, to take John’s length beyond his mouth deep into his throat.

“Hey.” John tugged lightly on Bob’s bun, not pulling him in deeper but actually nudging him back. “Don’t push yourself too far.”

But he wanted more. He needed more. He set his hands on John’s boots and leaned in until John’s curly hair tickled his nose, until all he could taste and feel was John. The sound of his sucking was vulgar, the blowjob so messy and sloppy that every time he pulled his head back, more saliva slicked his chin. He swallowed greedily when John’s precum oozed over his tongue, salty and musky and weirdly delicious to Bob’s horny tongue.

Bob was completely lost in John’s cock when another soft pull on his hair forced him to drop John’s cock and pull back, releasing John’s length as slowly as possible. His breaths were heavy when he released it, chest rising and falling as something dripped from his chin to his tits. John leaned down and wiped Bob’s chin, thumb scratching against John’s end of day stubble.

“Good boy,” said John, sliding his wet thumb between Bob’s lips. Bob sucked on it immediately, no thoughts left in his mind. “Next, you’re going to walk over to the bed and bend over it. You don’t take those panties off. Keep the panties on.”

Something in the back of Bob’s mind told him to argue that they were not panties, but his horny brain would’ve done fucking anything John asked him in that moment. He clung to John’s thumb until John pulled it away, then did as he was told. He walked over to the bed and bent over it, ass facing John, his briefs barely covering his whole crack.

Bob fully expected what came next and yet he still couldn’t stop himself from whining when John grabbed the fabric of his briefs and pushed them to the side. His left hand reached around Bob’s waist to squeeze his bulge, and he hummed a little when his palm met the wet fabric. John leaned over Bob and kissed the back of his shoulder, then spun his right hand until his fingers were pressed against the outside of Bob’s hole.

“Don’t move.” He released Bob fully, boots hitting the floor hard as he walked over to the side table. Grabbing the bottle of lube, no doubt. Bob couldn’t help but laugh when he returned with a towel too, shifting Bob’s limbs out of the way just long enough to position it. He kissed Bob’s shoulder again. “Sorry, I know I’m breaking character, but I am not making the hotel staff clean our cum off the floor or the bed. Ready?”

John slicked his fingers with lube and pushed them inside, quickly returning to character. He praised Bob for his good behavior, for his silence, for his willingness to follow commands. He pressed hard on Bob’s prostate and then reached around to feel his underwear, like he was seeing how wet he could get Bob without further stimulation.

“Can I be on my back?” asked Bob, voice strained through his pleasure. John didn’t respond, maybe unsure whether he was asking in character. “John, I want— I want to see the uniform when you fuck me. Please.”

An embarrassing squeak escaped him when John suddenly looped his arms under Bob’s stomach and flipped him on his back. A spurt of precum escaped him, soaking straight through his briefs. Before he could even feel ashamed, John leaned down, pressed his mouth to Bob’s underwear, and sucked.

“Fuck me,” Bob whined.

John snorted and gave Bob’s ass a light slap as he pulled back. “I’m giving the orders.”

He pushed Bob’s legs apart by his thighs, then tucked his underwear back to the side so his ass was fully accessible again. Apparently, he intended to just keep it on the entire time. It wasn’t their usual, but Bob was too deep in a submissive headspace to argue. He moaned as John pushed inside of him, realizing fast that he wasn’t quite prepped. Not that he cared. The slight sting of John’s thick cock was overwhelmingly perfect.

Bob twisted his hands in the towel beneath him, forcing himself to keep his eyes open even though his urge was to squeeze them shut. He wanted to see John’s uniform, wanted to memorize what he looked like in the camouflage. He couldn’t get enough of the way John’s tummy poked out of his shirt, the way the fabric folded around his strong biceps. Bob pushed his hair back with one hand, the other clinging to the bed to keep from sliding with John’s hard thrusts.

It was everything he’d ever dreamed. Better than he’d ever dreamed. John filled him up like no one else could, whispered praise that his own mind could’ve never dreamed up. Bob’s breath hitched as John pounded into him, the echoes of their flesh crashing together almost as loud as the pounding in his ears. His cock kept dripping, dripping, until his briefs were soaked, until his pelvis was warm and his dick was throbbing and he couldn’t fucking take it anymore.

“Fuck.” Bob’s stupid body was sensitive enough that he’d come in his underwear before but never like that. Not while John was actively drilling into him, maybe not even fully aware that Bob reached his climax. He whined and threw his head back, finally allowing himself to close his eyes. “John. John, I’m— John.”

“I know, baby. You’re good.” Okay, yeah, it was definitely more visually obvious than he’d thought because he could feel his cum dripping through the fabric back over his stomach. John just kept fucking him, a little slower, carrying him through his release. The fabric of his uniform brushed against Bob’s ass and thighs, tickling the wispy hairs on his cheeks. He slowed suddenly, halfway pulling out as he leaned over Bob. “Bobby, open your eyes. Open your eyes. Are you all right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m serious. You’re crying. Are you okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Nope.” John gave Bob’s jaw a few light slaps, fully pulling out of him. “Look at me. Get out of that headspace. You need some water?”

“Wanna give you a handjob,” mumbled Bob, only half aware of John’s hand squeezing his cheek. “I wanna— I wanna make you come on your uniform.”

John hesitated for the longest moment before he said, “Okay. I’m gonna pull you up on the bed, okay?”

“Mmhm.”

Bob could feel John’s weight on the bed beside him and his arms under Bob’s pits, but he didn’t quite register the movements. His eyes drifted open and shut as John repositioned him, nudging Bob’s cheek down on his shoulder. Bob leaned into him and reached for his cock, sticking out hard and slick against the uniform’s material.

He dragged his hand up and down John’s length, slipping off a few times and failing to maintain a rhythm. Eventually, John set his hand on top of Bob’s and guided him, effectively giving himself the few good pulls he needed to finish. John moaned and pushed himself back into the mattress as he came, hot ropes of cum splattering across the front of his uniform. Bob stared at them for a few seconds before he leaned over and licked the fabric, savoring the salty, sticky taste on his tongue.

“Hey.” John wrapped his left arm around Bob’s shoulders, his right hand reaching to tuck Bob’s hair behind his ear. He dragged his knuckles down the side of Bob’s face, gently stroking his skin. “You all right? You want to drink some water now?”

“Mmhm.” He nuzzled into John’s chest, enjoying the deep set scent of the military in the fabric. John pulled on Bob’s hair just enough to tilt his head to the side, then tilted a water bottle against his lips. He didn’t move it again until Bob tilted his chin back a few seconds later. Bob sniffed and curled in closer to John’s side. “That was really hot.”

John chuckled and kissed the top of Bob’s forehead. “You liked it?”

“Yeah.” Bob lifted his thumb to his lips and bit down on his nail, exhales warm over the top of his knuckles. “Is it— Is this— Was that dis— disre— disrespectful?”

“What—?” Before John could finish his question, Bob trailed his finger along the cum staining John’s uniform. His incredibly unclear intention was to ask whether it was considered disrespectful to use the uniform as a sex outfit. John just shrugged. “Who gives a shit? They gave me an Other Than Honorable discharge anyway.”

Truthfully, Bob didn’t expect much to come of it. He thought John might call him cute and kiss his cheekbones a little more. He did not expect for John to drop his shield, fall to his knees in front of Bob’s chair, and immediately lean in for the deepest kiss in a long fucking time.

“Shit, you’re so pretty.” John kissed along Bob’s cheek to his nose, staring at his glasses as close physically possible. He squeezed the tops of Bob’s thighs in his hands and pressed their foreheads together, his hot breath fogging up the lenses of Bob’s glasses. “You’re so fucking pretty, baby.”

Bob laced his fingers around the back of John’s neck, unable to shake his head due to their proximity. He stole another kiss from John, savoring his taste after they’d been apart for several days. “You like them, then?”

“So much. They’re so— shit, you’re so—” He cut himself off to kiss Bob again, his hands snaking around Bob’s waist to his ass. Bob raised himself up just enough for John to predictably slide his hands inside Bob’s shorts, skipping right past his briefs to grab his bare ass. “You’re so beautiful. Your eyes are so beautiful.”

“I missed you too,” Bob mumbled, smiling into their next kiss. He couldn’t stop himself from laughing beneath his breath when John started to push his pants down his hips. “We’re in the meeting room.”

“I don’t care. Do you care?”

Bob? With his exhibitionist kink? He shook his head and helped John pull his shorts and briefs off at the same time, leaving him naked from the waist down. John immediately leaned back over him, staring straight at Bob’s glasses as he pushed three fingers between Bob’s lips. So, his intention was to fully fuck Bob, then. Hot.

John kissed down to Bob’s neck as he lowered his hand between Bob’s legs, pushing one lubricated finger in Bob’s hole without hesitation. He made a little face like he wanted to say something but didn’t. He didn’t have to. Bob knew he was planning to comment on the fact that Bob was abnormally tight. He just hadn’t been in the mood the past few days.

Luckily, John was apparently very happy to just sit there and stare at Bob’s glasses while he fingered him. His right hand scissored inside of Bob as his left played with Bob’s hair, flipping it over and behind his glasses like John wanted to see Bob in every way.

Once Bob was ready, he slid down a little ways in the chair and spread his legs apart with the support of John’s eager hands. John lifted Bob’s thighs as Bob reached for his bulge. He tugged John’s pants down under his cock, not quite able to reach far enough to pull them down all the way. To his surprise, John shoved them right down to his ankles, the tip of his hard cock tickling Bob’s taint when he leaned forward, eyes on Bob’s glasses.

“Goddammit,” John breathed, a little laugh under his smile, “I don’t have lube.”

“Hang on.” Bob reached around his bathrobe and shoved his hand beneath the cushion until he found a small bottle. He held the lube out toward John who fully fucking snorted when he took it. “Playing with myself in front of the window gets me hot. Never tell anyone.”

“When do you do that?”

“You trying to catch a show?”

“Maybe.”

He set the lube down on Bob’s table once his cock was thoroughly slick, then slowly pushed himself inside Bob’s hole. Bob whined, grabbing at the sides of his chair as he inhaled and exhaled, relaxing himself to let John in. The warmth and weight of John’s cock were immediately overwhelming, the feeling of his bush tickling Bob’s sensitive skin as he bottomed out.

John held Bob’s left thigh on his arm, keeping his legs spread wide apart. His left hand reached forward to touch Bob’s glasses and Bob instinctively winced, expecting John to rip them off. Instead, he just dragged his thumb over them as his tongue wet his lips, his fingers sliding all the way back behind Bob’s ear.

“So goddamn pretty,” he mumbled, slowly pulling out only to push right back in again. Bob smiled and pushed his glasses up his nose, consumed by the way John’s cock pushed against the deeper, unstretched parts of his hole. “You get those glasses for me?”

“I didn’t know— fuck.” Bob inhaled sharply as John pressed hard on his prostate, a thin line of precum dripping out of his cock over the edge of his t-shirt. Well, shit. “I didn’t know you would like them this much.”

“Can’t stop lookin’ at them.” Obviously, because John’s pace was abnormally slow and he almost accidentally slipped out twice. His fingers pressed deep into Bob’s thigh, head tilting as he stared at Bob’s eyes. “You gonna wear those all the time?”

“Depends. Am I gonna get dick all the time?”

“You can cockwarm me forever if you keep those on.”

Bob chuckled and shook his head, then nudged his glasses back into place again. “Move. I’m gonna come all over myself if you keep sitting on my prostate.”

“Maybe I want that,” and holy fuck, how did John’s voice sound so sexy? He rolled his hips the slightest bit, stimulating Bob but not fucking him hard in the least. “God, imagine you all covered in cum like this. Drippin’ off your glasses, stainin’ your pretty chin.”

“You’d have to make me come really hard to get that to happen.”

“That a challenge?”

They locked eyes for a brief moment before John thrusted hard. He pushed himself in and out, gaze never leaving Bob’s face even as he dripped and dripped on his own stomach. Bob tried pushing his t-shirt up out of the way but then it just slid down to his belly button and, well, it wasn’t like that would be any easier to clean.

He pushed his knuckles in his mouth to stifle his moans as John fucked him, the sound of their flesh almost primal where it collided. John was still sweaty from the jet, his curly light red hairs barely doing anything to stifle the sound of his skin slapping against Bob’s cheeks. He groaned between heavy breaths, face twisting as he neared the finish line.

Bob was closer. He whimpered, breath hitching as he dug his nails into the sides of his chair, eventually twisting them into the edges of his bathrobe. He threw his head back, glasses sliding up his nose as he sank down in the chair, hips bucking into John, desperately chasing his release.

It didn’t quite reach his glasses, predictably, but he came forcefully enough to stain the length of his shirt up to his tits. Bob let out his usual line of expletives, his self-soothing mutters only escalating when John pushed fully inside of him and came as deep as possible.

“Jesus Christ,” John gasped, like it was somehow the best orgasm of his life despite Bob not doing a damn thing. He squeezed Bob’s thigh tight, his opposite hand lifting to stroke Bob’s chin. “You’re all right. You all right?”

“I’m fine.” Warm and sticky and a little oversensitive inside but fine. “This when forever starts?”

John nodded and shifted his hand to Bob’s glasses, carefully pushing them back into place. He tucked bob’s hair behind his ear, looking between his eyes like they were the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

“Long as the glasses are on, the cock stays in.”

Fuck. Five minutes already? Maybe a bottle of lube wasn’t weird, but the pretty purple heart dildo and sparkly anal beads were. Bob grabbed both in one hand, ignoring the sticky mixture on them, and threw them into his en suite out of sight. They clattered loudly against the wall and he winced, hoping John hadn’t heard.

Bob stood up and quickly fixed his blankets, then readjusted his shirt and pushed his hands through his frizzy hair. When he opened the door, he tried his best to look casual, like he hadn’t spent the last fifteen minutes before John texted desperately scrolling Grindr for someone that would satisfy him better than his own hand.

“Hey.” John, on the other hand, did not look casual at all. His hands trembled when Bob grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside, then took a deep breath as Bob closed the door. Bob winced and twisted his fingers uncomfortably. “You all right?”

“I’m fine,” said John, but he leaned back against the wall and his fingertips scraped against it like he was desperate for something to ground him. “I’ve just never, uh— never been with a— a man.”

“We don’t have to.” Suddenly, in the back of Bob’s head, all he could hear was the asshole who asked him at sixteen years old, ‘You ever been with a man?’ Had Bob somehow pressured John into it? Truthfully, he’d suggested it as a joke. The last thing he expected was for John to say yes. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

To Bob’s surprise, John reached forward. His fingers toyed with the hem of Bob’s shirt, barely touching the waistline of his briefs beneath it. “I just want to… I want to know how it feels.” Bob nodded and John’s fingers curled around his waistband. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

So, Bob showed him. He set his hands on top of John’s and guided them inside his pants and briefs. They pulled Bob’s clothes off together, the wrinkled fabric falling to his ankles. He stepped out of it and kicked it aside, nodding his approval when John’s hands shifted from Bob’s hips to his waist, pinching the fabric of his t-shirt.

“Jesus Christ,” John breathed when he dropped Bob’s shirt on the floor. He dragged his fingertips down Bob’s chest and abs before he set his hands back on Bob’s waist and squeezed him tight, eyes scanning him up and down. “You’re beautiful.”

Bob’s neck and face flushed pink and he shook his head, suddenly very aware that he was naked in front of John. Truthfully, when John started asking all the questions about Bob’s sex life, Bob feared he was homophobic. With each passing second, it became clearer that he was only trying to understand something about himself.

“Can I…?” Bob dipped his fingers into John’s pants and John nodded, only to grab Bob’s left wrist the second his hands reached inside. “You all right?”

“Do I have to be naked?” asked John, throat working as he swallowed.

“No. If you want to just, y’know, pull it out, that’s okay.” John nodded and Bob glanced down at himself, a little embarrassed at how hard his cock already was. “You got me naked before you asked.”

John’s whole face flushed red. “I wanted to see you.”

“I want to see you.”

The hand that stopped Bob shifted to help him. Together, they pulled John’s pants completely off, and immediately Bob had to wonder what John was ogling on Bob because he was huge. Thick and handsome and so fucking sexy that Bob touched two fingers to his shaft without thinking. He mumbled an apology, fingertips still barely grazing one of John’s veins.

“Here.” Bob quickly centered himself and directed John’s hand to hold his own dick upright, then set one hand on the wall behind John and leaned his body into him. He stopped just short, lips hovering beside John’s ear. “Sorry I’m not, um—”

John’s hand reached forward as instinctively as Bob’s, fingers exploring Bob’s skin from the center of his chest down to his pelvis. “Not…?”

“Bigger.”

Bob wasn’t small. Not by a long shot. But he’d often felt small under the intimidating stature of his previous partners, and his body dysmorphia post-Sentry kept him seeing his whole body as smaller than it was. Standing there, right hand holding his cock upright in front of John’s, he was acutely aware of the fact that he just wasn’t quite as girthy.

“Shit, Bobby.” John nudged Bob’s chin up with his free hand, forcing his gaze to stop comparing their dicks. He couldn’t meet John’s eyes, cheeks flushed pink. “You look pretty perfect to me.” Oh. “Can we…?”

“Y— Yeah. Yeah.”

He made a quick detour for the nearby lube before he bent his elbow, releasing his fingers to guide his cock with his palm rather than strictly hold it. Bob exhaled deeply when the underside of his shaft pressed against John’s, his most sensitive skin burning with pleasure as his veins rolled over John’s. John cursed beneath his breath, eyes rolling back when Bob looped his fingers around the side of John’s cock and started to rub his hand up and down.

It was stiff at first. Awkward and tentative and not quite right because Bob wasn’t used to being the one in control. But John’s hitched breaths turned into little moans that drove Bob wild. He leaned into Bob, back arching off the wall, chest brushing against Bob’s as his hands roamed around from Bob’s shoulder blades down his waist to his ass.

Bob focused on his steady strokes, the weight of two cocks in his hand, the pleasure of John’s thickness rubbing against his. He lost himself in it, eyes fluttering open and shut, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, and then John grabbed his ass and squeezed and his fingers slipped between Bob’s cheeks and he pulled back and looked up suddenly, hands flattening against Bob’s ass.

“Are you wearing…?”

“Yeah,” said Bob quickly, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Can we not talk about that?”

“Okay.” But about three seconds later, hips still engaging in Bob’s slow movements, John added, “It’s really sexy.”

“No, it isn’t.” Because he associated it with his mania, his hypersexuality, all the frustration and shame he’d felt before John got there. “Less talking, please?”

John nodded. “Can I try?”

When Bob released his grip and passed the stroking to John, he didn’t expect it to feel much different. He absolutely didn’t expect John to grab his waist with his free hand and spin Bob around so that his back was the one against the wall, so that he was the one at John’s mercy. And because Bob was Bob, it made everything ten times hotter. That was all he’d wanted since John first shoved him against the wall in the vault.

Bob’s breaths became shaky as he let John take over. A small wave of precum spilled out of him, rolling down the back of John’s hand. Bob mumbled an apology beneath his breath, but John just kept stroking, just leaned in like he didn’t care at all. He pressed his lips to Bob’s neck, his tongue making near immediate contact. Bob moaned softly, leaning into the touch, hips bucking as his cock throbbed against John’s.

Maybe John had lied. Maybe he had done that with a man before and that was why he was so good. That was why his hand glided so easily up and down Bob’s shaft, pulling him into John’s with enough pressure to feel incredible without hurting or becoming too much. Bob inhaled sharply and whimpered on his exhale as more precum rolled down his shaft. Before he had a chance to be embarrassed, John sucked hard on Bob’s neck and released. He kissed his way up Bob’s neck and his jaw, his lower lip barely brushing against Bob’s chin before Bob turned away.

“No kissing,” Bob mumbled, because that always did him in. Because he could do a hundred one-night stands, but he couldn’t kiss a man without getting attached. John squeezed their cocks together just a little and Bob whined, forcing himself to keep his head turned away when John kissed at the corner of his mouth. “Not on the lips.”

“Bobby…” How did John look love drunk when they’d never been together? Did he like dick that much? Was he in heaven experiencing it for the first time? “God, you’re so… you— shit.”

Bob actually didn’t expect it when John came, hot spurts of cum spilling back down over their cocks. John immediately started to move back but Bob grabbed their cocks, stopping him, stroking him through his orgasm. He stared at John as John’s arm slipped against the wall, deep pants escaping him as his cock twitched in Bob’s hand.

And oh, god, all he wanted was to kiss John. All he wanted was to grab the back of his neck and shove his tongue down the back of his throat. He wanted to pull John in so close that his cum smeared all across Bob’s naked body and never wash himself again. Instead, he just stared at John, eyes flickering between John’s lips and his cum-soaked cock.

“Sorry,” John muttered, his cheeks flushed red beneath his beard. “Sorry, I didn’t— Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Bob couldn’t resist anymore. He reached one hand up and grabbed John’s beard, dragging his fingers through the thin hairs. “I’m, um— You liked it, then?”

John nodded, mouth opening and closing several times before he spoke again. “I wanted to make you come.”

“Oh.”

“Is there anything I can…?”

He should have said no. He should have told John to leave. Instead, Bob grabbed John’s hand and pulled it around his back and positioned his fingers until they were pinching the plug in his stupid loose hole. Bob guided John to pull it out, then nodded toward the nearby lube. John hesitated for just a second before he reached for the bottle and poured it over his fingers.

It was clear he did not know what to do with an asshole. It took him about a minute to find his way to Bob’s prostate—which he did, at least, know existed; unlike some bicurious men Bob had been with in the past—and press his fingers into it. Bob melted immediately, exhaling slowly as John leaned his body back into Bob’s, his hand doing the heavy lifting for his softening cock.

John’s lips found Bob’s neck again. Within a few seconds. He was a kisser, then. He probably wouldn’t have left Bob’s lips if Bob hadn’t let him touch. John sucked on Bob’s skin as he worked his fingers, massaging deep into Bob’s prostate.

And then he accidentally discovered prostate milking, which was apparently really hot to him.

Bob always hated how leaky he was, but John’s lips fell off his neck, still slightly parted, staring at Bob’s dick like the precum spilling down it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. His fingers pressed into Bob each time he inhaled, mesmerized by the cause and effect. Bob really thought John was spent but suddenly John’s full erection was pressed back against his, once again frotting between John’s hands.

“Oh, fuck.” Bob bit down on his knuckle as his hips bucked, sticky ropes of cum washing over his length like a fountain. He gasped as his release dripped down his abs, down his thighs, and fully fucking moaned when John came again a second time. There wasn’t much semen, but it was so goddamn hot that he came a second time at all. “Fuck, John.”

“Was that good?” asked John, hands shifting to Bob’s waist, holding him upright as his knees trembled. Bob nodded, hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead. John wet his lips, gaze once again drifting toward dangerous places. “I want to kiss you.”

“Giddy up,” Bob mumbled. He bounced on his knees and rolled his hips, his warm, tight hole sliding up and down John’s heavy length. John cursed beneath his breath and threw his head back in ecstasy, his arms shifting forward and back with Bob’s steady movements.

Though John had initially been hesitant to be compared to a horse, he had to admit that he loved every second of the actual act. Bob’s ass slapping against the thick flesh on top of John’s thighs, fingers clinging to John’s torso. Little beads of sweat glistened across his body, causing his skin to sparkle every time the light hit it.

The hat made it even better somehow, too. John had never understood roleplaying before Bob. All his ideas sounded ridiculous in theory, but they were fucking hot in practice. The hat attracted John’s gaze to Bob’s face, highlighting his beautiful hair and deep blue eyes. John barely even noticed the precum dripping down on his stomach from Bob’s tip and the intensity of Bob’s grasp on him, too focused how hot and wet and goddamn good his cock felt.

“Fuck, man.”

And then Bob stopped and leaned over John, his cock sliding against John’s sternum as his hands slipped up to John’s tits. A drop of sweat dripped off his forehead on John’s chest, his hat hiding most of his face. John lifted his right hand off Bob’s waist and tapped his chin, eyes wide and adoring.

“You all right?” he asked gently. Bob nodded, chest visibly rising and falling as he breathed heavily.

“I’m good.” Bob rolled his thumbs in circles over John’s nipples and smiled a little at the shiver that ran through John’s spine. “I just— I kinda hate riding you.”

“Well, that’s not what a guy wants to hear when he’s balls deep in you.”

“You’re only, like, four inches in right now.” Bob pinched John’s chin teasingly. “And your dick is fine. I just kinda wish I was the one laying on my back doing nothing.”

John snorted. Of course, he did. “Here, sit back up.”

He pulled his feet into him, bending his knees as Bob moved himself back into an angled riding position. Bob shifted his hands back to John’s waist, fingers digging into his flesh when John started thrusting into him, pounding twice as hard as Bob had been riding before.

“Oh, fuck, yeah.” Bob leaned his head back, face and hat once again in full view. His hips moved along with John, following his movements and just barely deepening his thrusts. “Fuck, that’s so much better.”

“Feels good?”

“It— I’m gonna come.” Something overtook John and he felt the need to make it just a little better. He wrapped one hand around Bob’s cock and started to stroke it, a lazy smile on his face when the first, small line of cum spilled over his palm. “Fuck.”

Once he started, it just kept coming. Every thrust over Bob’s prostate released another jet of cum directly across John’s chest. It was warm and sticky and combined with the little moans and whines Bob let out, it felt goddamn amazing.

“Come in me,” said Bob suddenly, tone urgent. John looked up, eyes wide with surprise. “John, come in me. John.”

The way that Bob softly pinched and twisted his nipples did him in. John groaned loudly when he came, cum somehow warming his cock even more than Bob had on his own. He pushed Bob’s hips down as he pushed up, forcing as much of his release to go inside of Bob as possible.

Bob practically collapsed on top of John, the brim of his hat bumping into John’s as he folded himself over. His ass clenched around John’s cock, hands clinging to John’s tits for dear life. He whined when John started to pull out and immediately pushed himself back on John’s cock.

“Stay in.”

“It’s not too much?”

He shook his head, thighs loosening around John’s sides as he relaxed. John wrapped his arms around Bob’s back, hands roaming up and down his muscles. He sank into the mattress himself, his cowboy hat ruining the comfort of his pillow.

“I really don’t think these are meant to be worn during sex,” he mumbled, “but holy shit, do you look hot wearing it.”