#treesoutside

John didn't say anything, didn't move his face. He dragged his wet fingers from Bob's cock down to his hole and gently pushed on Bob's left inner thigh until he opened far enough. His fingers slipped between Bob's cheeks, tickling Bob's soft skin with a mix of lube and precum. John lightly circled Bob's tight hole before he pushed his middle finger inside.

"You're tight." Bob started to apologize but before he could get a full word out, John planted a deep kiss on his collarbone and added, "You're all right. I like prepping your pretty hole. Bend your knees."

He did as he was told, his hole pulsating and aching for John's finger the second it slipped away. Thankfully, it was only a few seconds before John lowered himself down, lifted Bob's right knee over his shoulder, and pressed his face to Bob's cheeks. John licked along Bob's crack before he spread Bob's cheeks with his thumbs and pressed his tongue to his fluttering hole.

"Fuck me," Bob breathed. He reached back to squeeze the pillow in his fist, a whine punctuating his pants when John moved his tongue upward and pushed his finger back inside.

"Not yet." John kissed Bob's taint, bicep squeezing Bob's leg when he squirmed. "Too tight."

"Fuck me open."

He pushed his ring finger inside and Bob gasped. "No."

Any further protests were cut off when John pressed his fingertips into Bob's prostate. He bit down on his lip and moaned as his back arched, precum spilling across his abdomen. The pure bliss of John's mouth and beard and fingers consumed him as he lay there, sharp, whimpering inhales escaping him when John massaged his prostate, milking Bob for an embarrassing amount of precum.

Bob twisted the pillow in his left hand, his right thumb shifting between his lips to muffle as many of his sounds as he could. His hips rocked a little, rubbing himself against John's mouth, beard tickling his sensitive skin. John kissed the inside of Bob's thigh and added a third finger. He bent his knuckles and used his fingertips to pull himself deeper in, pushing hard on Bob's prostate in the process.

"Fuck," he breathed, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. Bob's right hand reached for his cock as it spurted cum over himself, painting his body in warm stripes of white. Realizing the instinct wouldn't help, he moved his fingers toward John's head, hovering over his hair as a sharp whine escaped him. "Sorry. I'm sorry."

All he could remember were half a dozen guys berating him for coming too soon. Their "punishments" varied. Some of them fucked Bob harder until he sobbed from the overstimulation. Some of them stared at him in disgust and left him naked and alone in a shitty hotel room. Some of them left marks on his body he wished he didn't remember.

"Jesus Christ." John's breath was hot on the bottom of Bob's balls, hanging open as he stared at Bob's torso in awe. He kissed up Bob's leg, fingers lingering in the warmth of Bob's hole as he leaned his cheek against Bob's knee, eyes fixed on his cock. Bob mumbled another apology and John immediately shook his head. "No, baby, you're all right. You're fine. You're— god, you are so fucking pretty." He kissed the inside of Bob's knee, eyes never leaving Bob's belly. John slid his fingers out of Bob's hole, tips brushing over the outside. "I love the way your body responds to me, holy shit."

That was different. Aside from one guy who really fetishized Bob's sensitivity, no one had ever genuinely liked it before. Bob smiled a little, his shame still stopping him from fully believing John's enthusiasm. John sat up tall on his knees, the wet tip of his cock tickling Bob's ready hole. He didn't push it in but let it hang there where it had naturally fallen, slit warming in Bob's heat.

"John." Bob reached forward, trying to grab any part of John he could pull. He didn't care that he'd already come, that he was teetering on the edge of oversensitive. He needed John inside him immediately. "John, please."

John kissed the top of Bob's knee, then grabbed the bottle of lube and generously slicked himself before he pushed just half an inch inside. "Tell me if it's too much."

"I like when it's too much."

"I don't want to hurt you."

How could he hurt Bob? How could he ever hurt Bob when he wanted so badly to make him feel safe? Bob grabbed at John's right shoulder and tugged him forward. John slowly folded himself in half, his cock sliding inside Bob inch by inch as he set Bob's leg down on the mattress and spread his knees to make space for himself. When he bottomed out, he pressed his face back into Bob's neck, hips rolling almost involuntarily in and out of Bob's tight hole.

"Fuck, you feel so good." John mouthed at Bob's collarbone, hands tightly squeezing his hips. A tight inhale caught in Bob's throat. "You are so goddamn perfect. So pretty and soft and warm and— Bobby? You all right? Does it hurt?"

"No." Bob sniffed and wiped away a tear with his right hand, his left still clinging to John's back. He didn't even know why he was crying, really. Because he was embarrassed that he was still dripping from the weight of John's cock on his prostate? No. It was because he felt good. He felt safe, appreciated, desired. "I'm just, um— I'm not used to being praised."

John pressed his lips to the crook of Bob's neck, tongue lapping at the tender spot. He sucked hard before pressing small kisses to the area, his hips moving so slowly they were borderline cockwarming. "I think you're perfect," he mumbled, fingers squeezing all along Bob's sides. "You are so goddamn beautiful, and you feel so fucking good. And the fact that you came just from my fingers? Jesus, that was hot."

Though the sentences tapered away, the praise did not. John kept repeating words as fucked Bob deeper, things like "pretty," "beautiful," "sexy," and that goddamn "perfect." Tears streamed down Bob's cheeks as his chin quivered, his little sounds closer to crying than moaning.

He was pushed over the edge when John came, a sudden, overwhelming rush of warmth flooding his insides. Bob sobbed as his whole body tensed, hole clenched around John's girth, fingers digging into the back of his shoulders. John let his cock slip partway out of Bob as he adjusted to slide his hands underneath him, hugging Bob tight. He kissed along his collarbone, up his neck, and across his jaw.

"Shh, it's okay." John released one hand to brush his thumb over Bob's cheek when it became clear the tears wouldn't stop. "You deserve it. You deserve everything."

"John—"

"I want to give you everything."