Ante Up!

It had been two weeks now. Two weeks since he’d seen or spoken to Viggo. Oh, he’d wanted to. Had even picked up the phone and dialed all but the last number before slamming the phone down. He’d driven over, parked, and never got out of the car before driving home again. It bothered the hell out of him, this avoidance he couldn’t get over. Viggo was his friend, dammit!

Viggo had kissed him. While they were both out of heir clothes. Okay, so Karl had had his boxers on still, but that’s beside the point. Viggo had kissed him. Karl had felt the other man’s naked chest, and swelling erection. Viggo had kissed him…

And it hadn’t been half bad.

That’s what was really eating away at Karl. How he had enjoyed it. Hell, he’d started to get a hard on himself! How had a friendly poker game with some buddies turned… friendly?

“You let it, you bloody moron,” he reprimanded himself.

He’d done nothing but remember, even when he didn’t want to. That kiss haunted his dreams, though if he were honest the dreams went further. They always went further because… bloody hell, if he could draw he could do the best rendition of Viggo’s naked body because he remembered every nuance of it so well. That irked him. The remembering. If he shut his eyes all he saw was naked Viggo.

“The man’s body is a sin at his age,” he grumbled. “The man’s body is a sin at any age.”

Karl only hoped he aged so well. He had to work at looking fit. Not Viggo. No, Viggo made it look like fat and sagging wouldn’t even dare touch him. Quite frankly Karl believed that not even a sculptor could do credit to that body, though a sculptor would have a great time ogling under the pretense of artistic endeavors. He knew he would.

“Bloody well stop it!” he growled to himself, both hands gripping his dark hair in his frustration. He had to stop thinking about Viggo. He had to stop thinking about Viggo’s body. He had to stop thinking about Viggo’s confession. He has to stop…

Viggo had kissed him, and it hadn’t been half bad.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Viggo wished he could paint people. Really paint them, and do them justice. He would paint Karl, as he remembered the Kiwi in his boxers. The way the form fitting material had nestled and cradled his genitalia. The way it had conformed to the roundness of his ass. The way…

“Fuck,” he softly swore, shaking himself. It was doing him no good continuously thinking about Karl. All it did was drive him up the wall.

He worried about how Karl was taking things. He worried about losing a friend since Karl had avoided him for two weeks now. He worried that he’d bared his soul, so to speak, and it would be used against him. Not that he honestly believed that Karl would be so cruel, but he’d made a pass at the man, and kissed him! Karl had run out, and made no further contact with him. What if he wasn’t taking this well at all?

But he wished he could paint people. He would capture that life-loving light in those wonderful eyes, the fullness of that bottom lip that kept tempting Viggo to suckle upon it and bathe it with the dampness of his tongue, and he’d capture the endearing way those too long bangs kept falling forward to caress those high cheekbones and tangle in the dark brows. He would paint Karl with that goddamn cocky grin of his that both annoyed and thrilled Viggo. He would paint Karl with that broad sweep of shoulders and breadth of chest with those delectable nipples that his fingers itched to pinch and tug upon. And he couldn’t forget that flat stomach that flared into the thrust of hips. Karl also had wonderful legs, actually very lovely for a man. And Viggo swore the Kiwi had the nicest feet he’d ever seen on either gender.

He wished he could paint people. Or just draw in charcoal, letting the little stub of it sweep and curve over the paper. It would be a replacement for letting his hands stroke and caress the body he so desired to stroke and caress. He could concentrate on that wonderful heaviness in the cradle of those boxers, areteretend he was cupping it and manipulating it. Yes, and maybe spend long slow moments getting the nipples right so he could pretend he was playing with them until they were hard little pebbles ready to be suckled and licked…

“Get a grip,” Viggo panted to himself, shaking his head to dislodge the images that had taken root inside his head like a spider’s web took root in a corner of the room. ‘Come into my parlor…’ he thought with no small amount of sarcasm and irony.

That’s what the problem was. Karl had him firmly trapped in his web, and Viggo couldn’t break free. He didn’t want to break free, truth be told. He wanted spidery Karl to wrap him up and suck him dry.

That thought made him groan and run the heels of both hands hard over his face. “Fuck,” he hissed, ready to bang his head against a wall in desperation.

But he still wished he could paint people. Really paint them, and do them justice.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~
PART 2.

There it was again, naked Viggo. Why couldn’t the man put some fucking clothes on and leave him alone? Why did he have to happily frolic through his thoughts wearing nothing but a smile and come-hither look?

“Come hither look? Where the Christ did that come from? Great, he’s got me fucking waxing poetic… and he’s the poet!” Karl paused, staring at his reflection in the mirror, toothbrush full of frothy paste half raised to his mouth. Rolling his eyes he spat his mouthful of paste into the sink. “Now he’s got me talking to myself.” He began to brush so vigorously he was drawing blood. He rinsed, spit, and rinsed his toothbrush.

One more look at his reflection had him noticihe dhe dark circles under his eyes. He hadn’t slept much lately. Every time he shut his eyes he saw naked Viggo. It was like that child’s song; ‘Old Macdonald had a farm. And on his farm he had a naked Viggo. With a naked Viggo here, a naked Viggo there, here a Vig, there a Vig, everywhere a fucking naked Vig!’

Turning from the mirror he snorted in derision. “Ee-I-ee-I-oh,” he mumbled as he tossed his toothbrush into a cup and headed out of the bathroom.

This was insane. He couldn’t spend the rest of his life obsessed with a naked man. Didn’t matter how hot said man was. But after three weeks he was getting nowhere except nearer to a padded white room. Which would not help his career any. Yeah, that was it. He had to save his career. That’s why he was pulling on denims and a white shirt with thin blue stripes. That’s why he was leaving his apartment, and getting into his jeep. And that’s why he was very definitely driving to Viggo’s.

Yeah, that was it. He had to save his career. And get naked Viggo to put some fucking clothes on.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Viggo turned the music down and padded barefoot to the door. Opening it his blue eyes widened to see Karl. It had been so long now he’d stopped hoping the Kiwi would ever come back. Because he stood there, on the other side of the threshold Viggo’s heart raced almost painfully with a mixture of excitement and fear.

“Karl! I… I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Can we talk?”

‘Oh, shit,’ Viggo stepped aside and let him in. ‘He sounded so cool, and so distant.’ “Sure, c’mon in.”

He doesn’t want to hear what Karl has to say. Not if it’s going to rip him apart. Not after holding onto hope for so long, and then letting go. Letting go had been hard enough without now hearing the man he lusted for tell him to fuck off. Or worse yet, to hear the words, ‘you’re my best friend, Vig. And because of that…’

He didn’t want to be friends. Well, he wanted to be friends, but close friends. Really close friends. The kind of friends who kissed and touched, and cried out the other’s name in bliss. Those kinds of friends. Because he really did want to do all that to Karl; he wanted to let his hands skim over heated firm flesh that was lightly dusted with soft hair or smooth and goose-pimply because of his touch, he wanted to shift as close as he could to that body and have every nuance of it imprint itself on his body for all time, he wanted to feel the tickle of soft hairs on his lips or smooth them down with his tongue or lightly score heated flesh with the soft scraping of his teeth, and he wanted to feel the essencat wat was Karl bathe him and anoint him like holy water as if giving him new life.

“Look, these past three weeks… After the poker game…” Karl paused, lips thinning in irritation, and reached both hands up to push those recalcitrant bangs back out of hyes.yes.

And off of those high cheekbones and eyebrows that Viggo wanted to paint or draw. He didn’t speak, believing that if he tried to speak he’d only choke on the words, or he would somehow make things worse. And he didn’t want that. Karl had also avoided him for three goddamn weeks so he certainly was in no mood to make things easier for the gorgeous Kiwi by supplying him the words he couldn’t find.

Which now had Viggo angry. The nerve of the man to avoid him for three whole weeks, leaving him to wallow and worry and cringe, and then show up now when he’d finally gotten some headway into moving on with his life just to bring up the whole thing n! Hn! How dare he stand there looking too fucking gorgeous for Viggo’s own good, and stumble over words as though no time had gone by and this was still a fresh subject on both their minds! Where the hell did he get the balls to show up three weeks after Viggo’s confession to rip him apart when he was just getting his shit going again?

“If you’re here to tell me that I’m some sick bastard and that it would be better if we didn’t talk anymore I got the hint when three weeks went by without a fuck you from you.”

Karl blinked at the rage in the older man’s voice. “But… I didn’t…” Taking a long deep breath he let it out slowly. “I’m not sure what I’m doing here. All I know is… I want the naked you in my head to put some fucking clothes on and quit torturing me.”

Viggo hadn’t expected that. Frowning he ran the other man’s words over in his head until they made some sense, and once they did he laughed. He couldn’t stop laughing. It doubled him over and had tears leaking out of his eyes.

“It’s not funny,” the Kiwi grumbled, feeling rather at a disadvantage and wanting in on the joke. “I haven’t slept. I shut my eyes and e yoe you are, naked and… Bloody hell, mate, today I was saying things like ‘come-hither-look’!”

Viggo had to sit down before he fell down, clutching his sides to try to ease the pain of laughter. The laughter wouldn’t quit, and the pain only intensified. He was gasping and wheezing for breath.

Karl glowered, hands going to his hips, and one foot tapping in irritation. “I hope you choke to death,” he growled as the older man began to cough with the wheezing and snorting and guffaws. An image of holding a cushion over the handsome face that was red and tear-streaked until the laughter and coughing and wheezing stopped was very appealing at this moment.

Okay, maybe not too appealing now that Viggo was stretched out on the sofa with his big bare feet on the arm. He had an arm thrown over his eyes, and every now and then a snorted giggle sounded. But the most appealing sight to Karl was the tee shirt riding half up his torso, and the form-fitting way those denims fit his thighs and hips. Karl actually had to swallow because his mouth was watering. His palms were damp now too. And he was suddenly rubbing furiously at his eyes because for some unbeknownst reason the older man’s clothes were vanishing, leaving behind that wonderful naked Viggo that had romped and frolicked in his thoughts for three weeks.

“Ee-I-ee-I-ooh,” he groaned, unable to dispel the visions.

Viggo’s arm lifted, and he stared at the younger man in stunned dismay. “Did you just sing Old Macdonald?” All he got for a reply was a brisk head nod, the heels of Karl’s hands stabbing hard into his eyes. “Why?”

“Because there’s a naked Viggo here, a naked Viggo there, here a Vig, there a Vig, everywhere a fucking naked Vig!” With one arm covering his eyes the Kiwi waved his free hand. “Go put clothes on?”

Viggo glanced down at himself. “I’m fully clothed, you moron.”

“I’m not a moron!” Karl’s arm fell, and he snapped a glare at the reclining man. He pointed a shaky finger at him. “It’s no surprise I’m fucking insane, you drove me there! You and that fucking body, and those fucking blue eyes, and that fucking kiss…”

PART 3.

Viggo rolled off the sofa and went to the panting man whose eyes were dark and wide in anger and fear… and Viggo now noticed in desire also.chinching one hand out he cupped a high cheekbone, and let the pad of his thumb move to that nice full top lip, though the bottom one was much fuller and more tempting. “Do you really want me with clothes on?” he softly asked, the timbre of his voice pitched low and with a definite shortness of breath.

Those blue eyes hypnotize a still panting Karl, the touch of Viggo’s hand and thumb sending shockwaves rocketing through his body. “No.” The declaration rocked him to the core, but perhaps he’d known the truth the whole time? Perhaps that’s why naked Viggo had been so prominent in his thoughts for these three weeks?

Karl’s heart sped up to a nearly painful rate as the other man leaned in and replaced his thumb with his mouth. The kiss was as good as the Kiwi remembered. Except Viggo was dressed. They both were, actually. Those lips coaxed his to part, and Karl was powerless to disobey. He wanted this. So much that it hurt. Before the taste of Viggo’s tongue could invade his mouth he broke the kiss. “Take your clothes off,” he panted, trembling with the thought of naked Viggo again.

Viggo’s heart halted before beating a staccato so strong it stole his breath. Stepping back, but not too far, he pulled his tee shirt off. Not too quickly, he didn’t want to rush this. The fact that Karl was practically making the floor shake with his eager trembling was enough to have Viggo ready to cum. His fingers went to the button and zipper of his denims, and he paused a fraction of a second, long enough to see Karl’s eyes dilate and his tongue moisten his lips while his panting grew harsher. Drawing this out was turning Viggo on so bad he was beginning to fear if he didn’t free his erection it would break through the denims and pop the zipper!

Karl shifted weight from one foot to another, the need to have Viggo naked again so strong he could taste it. But it was taking so damn long. Why was it taking so long? “Viggo…” There, the beginnings of a nest of dark hair appeared as the material parted, and then Karl groaned. The head of a beautiful erection sprang free, boldly thrusting upwards towards a flat belly. The jeans fell with a soft thud to the floor, and Karl looked his fill. His memories hadn’t done the other man justice. Viggo was beautiful naked. Viggo was heavenly naked. Somewhere Karl believed angels had begun to sing ‘Alleluia’ in worship.

Viggo was afraid to move in case he broke this erotic spell they were under. It nearly undid him when Karl reached a tentative hand out, and one shy fingertip brushed the base of the head of his cock. Shuddering in pleasure Viggo’s head fell back, and he swallowed convulsively. If he survived this he was going to give Karl the best fuck of his life. If he survived this. Which he was beginning to doubt he would.

So hot… so smooth… so bloody hard! Karl’s nostrils flared at the strong aroused scent emanating from the older man. Glancing up he saw Viggo’s Adam’s apple bob; his neck arched back and his mouth slack in pleasure. A surge of power flared within the Kiwi. How far could he push Viggo? How strongly could he affect him?

With a new determined intent Karl stepped up flush to Viggo, rubbing his stubbly chin over the exposed collarbone. His hand wrapped around the iron rod of cock that jutted from the other man’s thighs. A grunt escaped Viggo, his hips lifting in eagerness. With his free hand he caught the American’s hair and lifted his head so they could meet eye to eye. “When you’re alone, and thinking about me, what do you fantasize about? What makes you hardest? What makes you cum fastest?”

Shit, he couldn’t breathe anymore! He was going to die, here in Karl’s arms, with Karl’s hand clutching his dripping cock. What did he fantasize about? Anything, and everything. “This. I fantasize about this,” he gasped.

Karl gave that hard cock a slow and languid stroke, and when he reached the head again pre-cum leaked over his hand there was so much of it. Viggo jerked, groaning long and deep. “Be specific.” God this was turning him on. He wanted to hear Viggo talk dirty. He wanted to hear Viggo ask him to do things to him.

It took effort for Viggo to think. To remain on his feet he grasped at the broad shoulders of the other man. Think! Think! “You touching me.”

“Like this?” Karl slid in hand slowly down the length of cock, and at the base turned his hand to curl his fingers around the pouch and massage it with his palm.

Hissing in a breath Viggo’s nostrils flared, his eyes going nearly black in pleasure. “Yes.”

“What else?” Karl would give no quarter.

“Touching you.”

An icy/hot thrill sent electrical currents through all of Karl’s limbs straight to his groin. “I won’t stop you.” There was something darkly erotic about having another man fumble with your pants to undo them. Karl watched Viggo’s hands part the material, and watched the head of his own erection, smeared with pre-cum, spring free. Christ, he was hard! So hard he hurt. The ache made him want to double over. The Kiwi watched the other man push the pants down, exposing the whole heated length. Not even the cool air of the room helped to ease the ache. ‘Touch me,’ his mind urged. ‘Fucking touch me and make me cum before I die!’

He just wanted to look for now. Oh, he desperately wanted to touch, but it was, for the moment, enough to just look his fill. Viggo’s eyes caressed the turgid length with the angrily prominent blue veins, testament to how turned on Karl was. That and the shiny sheen of pre-cum that glazed the head of his cock and began to spread downward over the shaft in agonizingly slow progress. Viggo had to fight the nearly obsessive urge to lick that glaze off just to know the taste of it, and devour that length of erection like a man who hadn’t eaten in days and was starved. No, patience had to be prominent here. But, just maybe…

Karl nearly fainted with the pleasure of one fingertip gliding over the head of his cock, and damp with the pre-cum lifted to Viggo’s lips where the older man’s tongue snaked out to lick it clean. “Good?” It was all he could get out without betraying the fact that words were damn near impossible when all circuits leading to the brain were fried and useless.

A smile slowly appeared on Viggo’s lips. So he’d finally cracked the Kiwi’s façade? “I could swallow you whole it was so good,” he replied, seeing the other man’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. Good, it wasn’t fair that Karl held all the power.

The visions those words invoked had Karl nearly ejaculating. “I won’t… stop you,” he panted. His voice was nearly a croak.

“Want to play cards?”

“Now?” choked the Kiwi, stunned. Christ, Viggo wasn’t serious, was he?

“Why not? Winner can be the first to get sucked dry.” Viggo said the last of that near the younger man’s ear, feeling the whole body near his shudder and quake when he sucked hard at the lobe in a very insinuating gesture. “Care to ante up?”

“Christ, I think I’d cum long before anything happens!” Then he felt the oh-so slight rub of heated flesh on his heated flesh. A butterfly wings’ caress of cock on cock that had his hips thrusting out hungrily for more, but Viggo moved away. Completely away, and Karl was left swaying uncertainly in one spot.

Viggo moved to the sofa, amazed he managed to remain on his feet long enough to get there. He was so fucking horny right now he could hump the sofa! Sitting on it, in a lazy reclining position where he could spread his legs and bare it all he let his heavy-lidded gaze rake over Karl. The man should pose like that; flushed and swaying with pants undone and shoved down to those thick thighs, and that gorgeous cock all glazed and twitching and starving for attention. It was artistically beautiful and sensuous, and personally devastating.

Wetting his lips Viggo crooked a finger and called his unsure lover forward. Karl slowly hobbled over, and Viggo sat up straight to halt him a foot away. “I want you naked,” he declared, biting the inside of his lips to keep from leaning forward just a tad more and inhale that gorgeous cock into his mouth like it was the air he needed to breathe to survive.

Karl helped by undoing his shirt and letting it fall to the floor while Viggo busied himself with pushing the pants down. Could he hurt anymore? Could the pain of arousal be any worse? “Vig…”

Viggo pulled Karl between his legs. There had been a small sound of pleading in the man’s voice. He knew. He understood. He also felt that need. The need that was like a gnawing hunger that left your belly feeling concave. “When you kept thinking about me? What did you think of? What excited you most?”

“Just looking at you,” Karl admitted. He was beyond denying what the older man made him feel. The important thing was feeling it. “Just… looking at you,” he repeated.

Painfully slowly Viggo’s palms slide up the outside of the Kiwi’s thighs, over hips, and up the torso that quivers and contracts into goose pimples. Already those lovely nipples are tightening, and he urges them onward by forefinger and thumb meeting like a vise, lightly twisting and pinching. Not enough to cause torment, but a small amount of pain that has Karl moaning from between clenched teeth. Viggo turns the other man, and is presented by a firm round backside and the long sweep of a smooth back that flares into broad shoulders. Just beautiful. He ignores the backside for now, his hands instead flattening against that expanse of back. He explores upwards in a half-caressing and half-massaging manner, but comes down it with extremely light scraping of fingertips.

Karl gasped, his whole body quaking and muscles in his back shuddering beneath the skin. But it was nothing compared to what happened when he felt Viggo’s teeth nip one buttock cheek. For one moment the world receded into blackness, and flashes of light blinded him. A cry tore from his lips. The older man’s hands curled around his hips to hold him still, and the damply hot sweep of a tongue lightly parted the cheeks from base to tailbone.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” he panted, legs turning to jelly.

Like a burning wet snake the tip wriggled and worked its way deeper and deeper until it met with puckered skin. There it cajoled and teased, seduced and toyed, and Karl’s knees gave out. He began to fall, but Viggo held him up as he guided him around. Now that wonderful tongue was probing his navel and Viggo urged Karl down onto his lap so he could reach those pebbled nipples and worry at them with his teeth before soothing them with the touch of his tongue. Up the collarbone to the neck, he smiled to feel the Adam’s apple bob several times beneath his lips. Over the chin, and finally to that tempting full lower lip that he now suckled at and moistened with his tongue.

Karl caught Viggo by the hair, fingers digging desperately into the short locks to anchor him in place so his mouth could devour the other man’s. Viggo’s hands were skimming over his back to his ass, kneading the cheeks urgently. The older man shifted and moved them, and Karl soon found himself on his back on the sofa with the thrilling weight of the other man over him. He never would have realized how erotically exciting it would be to feel another man’s naked form against his.

Viggo broke the kiss and nipped and nibbled his way down until he was back to the navel. Kneeling back he let his eyes roam over the Kiwi’s nude form. When he caught the engorged cock in his hand it was slick and sticky with pre-cum, but he didn’t care. Karl’s hips arched up in pleasure at the slow stroking. It felt so good, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. Viggo knew this, and leaning over he closed his lips around the head, slowly drawing more and more of the cock into his mouth.

Unable to stop watching, his breathing stopped for a one moment, Karl was at first stunned to see Viggo’s handsome face between his legs. This was Viggo, for Christ Sakes! Then that talented tongue did something that sent all thoughts flitting out of his head, and he shifted and lifted his hips in eagerness. “Do that again!” he gasped, heart pounding so loudly he knew the other man had to hear it.

Viggo obeyed, and at the same time slid a hand to his own cock to slick down two fingers with the liquid. Once they were coated he began to probe gently at Karl’s anus, urging the puckered skin to ease open and relax. One fingertip, move to the first knuckle and wait a few seconds to let the body adjust to the invasion. Now to the middle knuckle and wait some more. He drew hard on the cock in his mouth, tongue swirling and pressing, and carefully eased the finger nearly all out and then nearly fully into the tight sheathe. Wriggle the finger, ease the anus more open, and carefully insert the second finger.

Karl clutched the arm of the sofa, eyes widening at the fullness invading his ass. “Viggo…” He wasn’t sure about this. Then that mouth slid down his cock to his balls, teased the pouch a little, and the other man’s tongue found that one spot below that where talented manipulation had the Kiwi nearly leaping off the sofa with a shout of pleasure. “Jesus! Jesus!” he wanted to twist and squirm, buck and bounce.

Viggo slid up the body beneath him, arranging himself to enter it as he distracted Karl with heated kisses, letting the Kiwi taste his own essence that he’d so enjoyed. Half kneeling he maneuvered and shifted until he held the head of his shaft to the loosened anus, and as he nibbled at Karl’s bottom lip he pushed slowly, urging the skin wide.

Karl ripped his mouth from Viggo’s. “Whoa! Umm… Viggo…” A tremble of uncertain fear wavered his voice. In self-preservation his ass cheeks clenched.

Viggo felt the impregnable barrier erected in fear. “Trust me,” he grunted, arms and legs trembling in his effort to remain motionless.

Karl hesitated. It was one thing to touch another man, and be touched by him. It was fucking nice to have his mouth suck him, but this was a man inside his ass! It was natural to be afraid.

Viggo stroked Karl’s cock, squeezing the base gently. He kissed the man’s lips, shushing against them in soothing tones. He felt the Kiwi’s ass relax slightly, and he prodded forward slightly. The clenching returned, and again Viggo waited and soothed. If Karl would have outright told him no he would have gotten off the man, but he hadn’t, and so it was a game of patience.

It was scary, and yet strangely pleasing to have the full length of Viggo’s cock inside his ass. Karl panted, trying to relax. His nails dug into the sofa’s cushion beneath him, and he wet his lips nervously. Then Viggo slowly pulled nearly all the way out, and just as slowly pushed in. Karl was entranced by the look of ecstasy that bloomed on the older man’s face. So enthralled was he by it that he relaxed completely.

“That’s it,” Viggo gave a fluttering smile; his eyes at half-mast and his mouth open as he panted. “That’s it, Karl. Easy…” It was a little easier now to pump in and out. “Christ, you’re so tight.”

Out of nervousness Karl nearly laughed. He’d never thought to ever hear anyone say that to him. He’d said it to a few females in his life, but… Then it hit. The pleasure. That wonderful blossoming of goodness that began where Viggo’s cock was lodged inside him, and spread outward. Viggo shifted, lifted Karl’s hips some, and the Kiwi cried out as an explosion of delight rocked him. “Shit, do that again!” he gasped.

Viggo gladly obliged, using a small cushion to elevate the other man’s hips. Now Karl was an eager participant. His legs lifted higher and his hips moved to meet each downward thrust from Viggo. He clutched at Viggo in an effort to draw him closer and closer. Viggo pumped faster, each stroke inside shorter yet harder. His balls banged against the man’s ass, and he felt the tickle of male leg hair against his sides as Karl’s legs wrapped about him to keep him near.

“More!” ordered the Kiwi.

“God you feel good.” Viggo caught that bottom lip in his teeth, scraping it tenderly. “Stroke yourself, Karl. Make yourself cum with me.” He could feel the motion of the younger man’s hand on his cock, pulling at it hard and fast to match the pumping of Viggo’s hips.

“Ohhhh…SHIIIIIIIITTTTT!!!!” The squirt of hot seed made Karl shout, the sound torn out of him as he bucked up. Fireworks exploded behind his lids, and continued to do so with every thrust from the other man.

Viggo gritted his teeth, but feeling Karl’s cum shower him as well as himself did it for him. His balls tightened, and he knew he was near. Then Karl bucked up hard, and Viggo’s head snapped back, his back arching, and a primal growl exploding from his chest. His body twitched with aftershocks until every last spurt of seed was out of him.

Karl opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling in awe. Viggo was heavily collapsed over him, his now softened cock sliding out of him. “Next time, I want to be on top.”

Viggo chuckled. “Deal.”

“Vig? I’m sorry.”

It took effort to lift his head. He felt leadened all over, but he met the other man’s apologetic gaze. “Sorry? For what?”

Sheepishly Karl shrugged. “Waiting so long to come see you.”

“It was worth the wait,” the older man smiled, kissed those full lips that looked bee-stung from their earlier kissing.

“Was it?” Christ, now he was sounding like the proverbial virgin wondering if she’d performed well.

Viggo nodded. “Definitely. How ‘bout we go wash up, and then go to bed?”

“It’s too early to…” Flushing Karl rolled his eyes in embarrassment. “Never mind, I didn’t say a word.”

Viggo was chuckling as he helped his new lover up to his feet. Once they were both on their feet he kissed the other man, pulling him flush against him. Then, taking Karl’s hand he led the Kiwi to the shower.