Swallow it Down

Chuck refers to his genitalia as lips, frills, hole, and cunt. I mainly use cunt because I think Chuck's cunt is inherently hilarious. Enjoy!

Quinton had said he wouldn't be back until ten pm. He'd promised! Chuck had made something up about having a long wind down routine and not wanting to restart it halfway through. Chuck thought he had time!

Now,   Quinton sat on his bed, facing away from Chuck. Currently his coworker thought he'd walked in on Chuck masturbating with his hand in the classic style. But how long could that possibly last?  

At least, Chuck thought, the plug had slipped in before Quinton opened the door. Without the round lump of silicone Chuck knew he would've expelled the eggs already. So far he'd been able to hide the tell-tale ovipositor in the thin hotel sheets. If Quinton saw that his humiliation would be complete. The silicone eggs inside of him shifted wetly. He wished his body wasn't enjoying every second of this predicament. Then Quinton said something too pornographic to be true. Chuck had to have misheard.  

"What?" His voice was harsh.  

"You can continue masturbating. I don't mind."

So many fantasies coming true at once and so many HR rules broken.  

"It's what I came back here to do. I just thought you'd be asleep and instead..." Quinton trailed off.  

"What happened? I thought that Kayla invited you back to her room," Chuck said. He'd hoped Quinton would spend the night with her so Chuck could explore the hook up app users of this particular hotel. This was the spill over hotel for the local fur convention.

"She did," Quinton said.  

Chuck felt like he was in a dream. Stuffed and making small talk. What level of hell was this?  

Quinton took pity on Chuck and continued. "Kayla decided that my penis was too big and she didn't want to have sex with me. Then when I messaged Oren--"

"Oren?" Chuck asked.

"He came up to us before dinner," Quinton said. "I met him for drinks. Afterwards, I blew him in the elevator."

"Did he come?" Chuck asked.

"You just accept that someone like me could blow some guy in an elevator?" Quinton asked.

"I still can't believe you like men too," Chuck said.

"Neither can I," Quinton muttered darkly. Chuck didn't know how to respond to that.

"But yes, he did come. He did not enjoy learning how much bigger I was than him. He couldn't perform after that discovery. So if you want to continue masturbating, go right ahead. No need to ruin your night on my account."

Chuck was sure he could accommodate Quinton.

"Oh please, there's no way you can fit me," Quinton said. He had not thought those words, he had spoken them aloud. He looked in horror at Quinton, who had turned around to look Chuck over. His face went hot under the scrutiny. Quinton's eyes on his body was enough to make Chuck drip around the plug. Still for all the time Chuck spent looking at Quinton out of the corner of his eye, he'd never noticed anything particularly enormous.  

"I'm different, I'm--"

"Built different? I've heard that before. If anything, men are more delicate," Quinton said.  

"Yes, but--"

"I just want to fuck like a normal person for once. I don't want to have to fist someone just so I can fuck them," Quinton said. Chuck stared at Quinton's crotch. Where was he hiding this monster? Moreover, how could he convince Quinton to put it inside him?

"Can you show me?" Chuck interrupted.

"What?" Quinton asked.  

"I'm having a hard time picturing what you're working with. Can you please show me?" Chuck asked. Had Quinton just been with tight women and, apparently, tight men? After this exquisite torture, Chuck was sure he could accommodate anyone and then some.  

"You want me to show you my cock?" Quinton asked.

"Yes, please," Chuck said.  

"I'm a grower," Quinton said.  

"Oh, I don't mind," Chuck said. Even if Quinton was lying and it was small enough for Kayla and Oren to immediately lose interest, it didn't matter. It was attached to Quinton. Everything felt too big in his back hole.

"You'll have to watch me masturbate a little," Quinton said dubiously. "Still don't mind?"

"If you like, I could help," Chuck volunteered. The gummy he'd eaten earlier made his tongue loose.

"No wonder you didn't mind sharing a room with a faggot," Quinton muttered. He got up, went to the chair by the window, and sat down. Chuck watched as Quinton slid his slacks down to his thighs. His underwear was the same bright red as Chuck's shoes. The white piping around the seams was pristine. There still wasn't much to see besides Quinton's balls.  

"C'mere," Quinton said. Chuck obeyed before thinking. When he got up, the plug's thin edges fought against his internal muscles. It had lost this battle before, though not with eggs inside of him.

Oh God. Oh no. Quinton crooked his finger like a WattPad dom. He was going to obey. He was actually going to reward this bullshit. Chuck walked over to Quinton and knelt without being told to. Quinton smirked down at him. Chuck knew his face was red. Quinton's slacks pooled around his ankles, but Chuck knew that Quinton wore a sleek and shiny pair of Dior derbies. Kneeling caused the plugs to push the eggs even further inside of Chuck's cunt. He could feel his cunt resist briefly before stretching out. It felt like he came. If he had, he was going to gush when he removed the plug. If the plug was big enough to keep him from leaking.

Now he had a close up view as Quinton, his work crush, fished around internally before producing a small phallus. With thin fingers he delicately gripped his dick between thumb and forefinger. Quinton jerked his cock in a motion that Chuck was intimately familiar with. It was like watching a magic trick. Before his eyes Quinton's cock grew. What had started out as a nub had doubled, now tripled in size. Eventually Chuck saw why Quinton's previous partners had problems with accommodating him. The length was on the long side of normal. The thickness, on the other hand, was truly impressive. He'd been so impressed by the change in length, he'd almost missed the increase in girth. Chuck glanced up at Quinton. The man looked smug. For once, Chuck didn't blame him.

"Still up for the challenge?" Quinton asked.  

"Yes," Chuck said. He was still looking at the magnificent member in front of him. It was going to feel great inside of him.

"I'll only fuck you with what you can suck," Quinton said. The words sunk in slowly. When Chuck looked back up at him Quinton reached down and ran fingers through Chuck's hair. Chuck stared up at Quinton. How was this happening? How was he not dreaming?

"Well?" Quinton asked.  

"Yes," Chuck said.

"Yes what?" Quinton asked.

"Yes, sir."

Quinton dazzled him with another smile. "Cute, but I want you to say the challenge."

Chuck burned with embarrassment. God, how was this his life? He swallowed. "You'll only fuck me with what I can suck." 

"Good boy."

Something bloomed in his chest despite the cliched words. Chuck knew that Quinton was not a good dom. It sounded like he'd read exclusively bad BDSM erotica. So why was Chuck completely under his spell? Chuck opened his mouth as wide as he could to fit the thick head inside.  

"Be civilized; lick first," Quinton chided him. He bopped Chuck on the nose with the thick head. Chuck gazed up at him. He kept eye contact with Quinton as he began to lick the purple head of Quinton's penis.

Chuck licked the head with careful precision. Maybe it was the perspective but Chuck could've sworn that the head was still getting bigger. Chuck focused on getting the massive head as wet as possible. How was this going to fit into his mouth? If his mouth was wider, this task would certainly be easier.

Gently, Chuck reached up to grasp Quinton's impossibly thick dick. It was so big. If only he was better at blowjobs!

"Now, you may suck," Quinton said. Instantly, Chuck tried to swallow as much as he could. Quinton laughed when he choked. "Careful, I don't want vomit on me."

Quinton sighed with pleasure and leaned back. Chuck felt the stinging stretch in the corners of his mouth. It was hard work to keep his teeth free of the sensitive head. He couldn't even look up. The head must've grown even more! If Quinton only went this far into Chuck, what torture that would be. He redoubled his efforts. Chuck glanced up. He expected Quinton to look smug. He was struggling after all. But Quinton wasn't. He was watching Chuck through half-lidded eyes. Chuck slowed.

"Don't stop," Quinton said. It didn't come out as a demand. Chuck bobbed his head. Quinton groaned above him. Chuck repeated his actions easing more into his mouth with each attempt. When he finally got the head fully into his mouth, Chuck fought a feeling of sudden panic. The mere head of Quinton's penis in the front of Chuck's mouth triggered his gag reflex. He tried to suppress it. He could still breath. It wasn't anywhere near his throat. By God, though, Quinton's head worked as well as a ball gag. Better even, at least you could bite down on a ball gag.

Chuck made a concerted effort to relax. It was hard. Each time Quinton's dick entered his mouth panic rose like bile in his throat. Quinton gave no signs of wanting to face fuck Chuck. He was content with making Chuck do all the work. Probably out of politeness. If Quinton thrust forward his hips at the wrong time, panic would turn to vomit.

Fingers traced his cheek. Eyes open wide, Chuck looked up at Quinton. He'd leaned forward. "You're doing so good."

Chuck swallowed convulsively. Quinton sighed happily. He tried to keep his tongue as far out of the way as possible. He was going to die if he only got the tip. He had to try harder. His mouth was so full he could barely suck, barely even think.

Finally, finally, he got the entire head in his mouth. With his lips sealed snugly around the sulcus, he began to suck. He looked up at Quinton. His coworker's mouth was slack. Chuck rocked back and forth. It made what he'd greedily stuffed inside his body shift. Something was pressed firmly against his internal pleasure point--he hated the gendered term g-spot. When he moved it felt like getting fucked. It took his mind off of the pain he was beginning to feel in his neck. Had he bitten off more than he could chew?

It was a struggle just to maintain this depth. Chuck swallowed convulsively. It was amazing how something so far away from the back of his throat could still make him gag. The skin around his lips ached. Drawing his tongue back earlier had been a mistake. Now the head of Quinton's dick had nowhere to go. Still he tried. His body shuddered as his mouth tried to reject the intruder. He bobbed up and down even. His skin broke out in goosebumps.

"Easy there," Quinton said. "I can see you're having a hard time."

Chuck couldn't make a retort. He just glared up at Quinton. He tried again, just to spite Quinton. Instead of allowing Chuck to proceed, Quinton placed an index finger on Chuck's head and withdrew from Chuck's mouth. The wet penis smacked him in the face. Quinton smiled. Chuck just gazed up at him. Belatedly he realized that his mouth was still open. He shut it. Quinton definitely noticed that.

"Can't I try again?" Chuck asked. Only the head? Maybe a little more if Quinton was a bad judge of distance. How was that going to be fun for either one of them? Only the head but he was stretched enough to take a grand fucking. If only Quinton knew!

"No. It's clear that this is as far as you're going to get," Quinton said. He stood up. Still on his knees, Chuck felt incredibly small. Quinton was tall to begin with. This position made him look like a demigod. "Get on the bed, I want to fuck you."

Chuck obeyed without thinking. He was halfway to his bed before a sudden an internal shift reminded him of what he carried. Fuck.

"Wait, before you fuck me, I need to take something out," Chuck admitted. He flushed. He was not looking forward to revealing his oviposition kink. Why couldn't he have just stuck to the normal breeding kinks like all the other trans men?

"Forgot your invisiline's still in," Quinton said unkindly as he unbuttoned his shirt. Chuck glared at him. This was embarrassing enough as it was. Wordlessly he got onto his bed. The ovipositor was still hidden. At least until they turned off the light. The manufacturer had promised one of the longest lasting glows in the industry. Definitely strong enough to be visible through these thin sheets.

Chuck arranged himself as Quinton leisurely finished undressing. The worst thing would be if he couldn't get all the eggs out and had to manually dig around inside. He had to relax and focus. He'd never been good at doing that under observation. Quinton watched him with an unreadable expression. Realistically this display probably wouldn't be a deal breaker for Quinton. It would likely reassure him that Chuck was more than capable of accommodating him in at least one hole. Still, this was embarrassing. He pushed again. Everything had been such to his liking that the plug had disappeared into him along with the eggs. He squeezed his internal muscles. It took a little while for the plug to respond. Slowly it descended Chuck's canal. He watched the expression on Quinton's face change as the plug slowly opened Chuck's hole. He knew well what this looked like from Quinton's point of view. Chuck had watched himself in the mirror many times before.  

Chuck slipped a finger down. He ran it around the plug's flared base to break the seal. His opening only fit the base of the plug in because the thin rim was no match for his cunt's desires. After tonight Chuck was going to throw it away. He'd buy a giant egg plug. Committing to the weirdness was a small price to pay for never having this happen to him again.

After that, the black thing fell out of him.

Quinton picked up the slick silicone object and examined it. Chuck was going to die. This was too humiliating. Sure weed made masturbation better but it almost made it more difficult to regulate his own emotions.

"Impressive, how long has it been in there?" Quinton still hadn't looked away from Chuck's cunt.

"You said you'd be gone longer," Chuck said. He couldn't keep the accusation out of his voice.

"Well, seeing how much my night has improved I can't exactly say I'm sorry," Quinton said. He made as if to get on the bed.

"No, don't, not yet, there's, uh, more inside me," Chuck said. His face was burning. Everything had seemed like such a good idea at the time. Chuck focused on speed and tried to push out the silicone eggs hidden inside him. Nothing happened.  

"Can I?" Quinton asked. With the hand not holding the cream-covered plug, Quinton reached for Chuck's hole. It was always so floppy after a stretch. That wasn't what Chuck wanted Quinton's first experience of Chuck's cunt to be. He was going to think that Chuck was nothing but a slut. A tongue of liquid desire flared between Chuck's hip bones. Quinton would know by touch that Chuck was made to be used. Eventually the third egg responded to his internal flexings. God, his face must look so strange.

But the look on Quinton's face as first one egg then a second egg popped out of Chuck's cunt. He had to try harder to get the last one out. It was so hard to do it and not squirt (or sometimes pee) when he was getting the last one out. Something gave inside of Chuck and final egg gushed out of him in a rush.  

"No, I got it," Chuck said. His face never stopped burning.

"Is that cum?" Quinton asked. He didn't sound disgusted. Just curious.  

"Unfortunately, no," Chuck said. "That's either going to be the lube or, well, me."

"You?"

"I'm self lubricating."

"I thought trans guys were all dry and atrophied."

"I was starting to experience dryness before I started HRT." Chuck admitted.

"And now you're like a facet," Quinton said in awe. He touched what Chuck thought of as the frills around his entrance. "May I?"

Chuck nodded. He couldn't believe this was happening. "It's--it's not all me, you know."

"Still," Quinton said. Was he impressed? Most of Chuck's previous partners were grossed out by his egg-based obsession. Quinton absentmindedly stroked his cock with the hand that he'd used to touch Chuck. He spread the mix of lube and slick over his dick. Chuck swallowed.

"Where do you want me?" Chuck asked.

"Oh, uh, wherever's fine," Quinton said.

Chuck let his legs fall open. "I'm good here."

"Uh, what about protection? I have condoms if you'd like," Quinton said hastily. He'd stopped with one knee on the bed.

"I prefer it raw," Chuck admitted. He was on Prep and had been for years. This, unlike the eggs, was rarely a deal breaker, especially for guys met on hook up apps.

"Aren't you a little wet dream," Quinton muttered. Chuck's heart fluttered. It probably wasn't meant as praise but Chuck loved being a slut. He was old enough to know better than to think he could prove his potential as a romantic partner by revealing his skill as a sexual partner. Still, it felt good to hear Quinton Williams say that about him.

What if Quinton changed his mind and just railed Chuck? Just got up on the bed and manhandled Chuck into position. He wouldn't be able to toss Chuck around. No one had been since before he hit first puberty. If anyone in the room was tossable it was Quinton. He had a body that only came from extensive time in the gym. Broad, but light like a sail and fast approaching Chuck. He'd been fucked by mostly straight men before. It was--it scratched a highly specific itch and without exception ended badly. Quinton clambered up on the bed. He got between Chuck's legs with more confidence than Chuck expected. His erection didn't even flag.

Finally, Quinton's dick touched Chuck's cunt's lips. Then he felt fingers parting them. How considerate. The enormous head pressed against Chuck's cunt. Unguarded for once, Quinton's face was a mask of concentration. This was the part of topping that Chuck didn't like. Control was electric, but topping took him out of the moment and back to band camp as he counted the rhythm in his head. He'd read a study that said a steady rhythm was more useful for obtaining orgasm than speed or size. He'd seen the graphs and believed them. Chuck had even checked their math. Just to be sure. As far as Chuck's lovers were concerned on the rare occasions he was permitted to top, he did a perfectly adequate job.

Quinton pressed inside of Chuck. As sloppy and stretched as Chuck was from his previous activities, it was still a tight fit. Even before the head was inside him proper, Chuck felt a stretch that was just this side of desirable. What would it have felt like to have Quinton fully seated instead of him? If only he'd been better at blow jobs.

"Relax," Quinton instructed him. "Otherwise I wouldn't be able to get in."

"Just shove it in then," Chuck suggested.

"No, that's rude," Quinton said. Chuck rolled his eyes. Who cared about manners when they wanted to fuck? Maybe this was the real reason why he'd been rejected by two of the three people tonight.

"Let's try this," Chuck said and drew his legs up. Quinton inched forward on his knees. He nearly fell when he got close to the depression created by Chuck's weight. Clearly he'd not sleep with many fat people before. This was looking like a bigger and bigger mistake the longer it went on.

Again, Quinton tried to press in. He didn't get far. He lacked the patience that Chuck had shown while blowing him. Why couldn't he just rock himself inside? How could he fit such huge toys and still be so tight at the entrance? It was frustrating. He needed to relax.

"Here, is this more lube?" Quinton asked. He reached for the lump under the sheet and removed the ovipositor. Chuck wanted to die. Quinton could explain everything to the authorities and Chuck's mother. It would serve him right. Especially now that he was examining Chuck's latest self care purchase. "What is this?"

"It's a sex toy," Chuck admitted.

"I know that," Quinton retorted. "It's covered in lube and under the sheets. What else would it be?" Chuck watched in silent horror as Quinton ran his fingers over the shaft. It was humiliating to know that his sexual partner held evidence of exactly what a slut Chuck was in his hands. But it only made him wetter. Something had to be wrong with him. "How does this thing work?"

"Fuck me and I'll show you," Chuck said. Quinton looked him in the eye and smiled. He set the toy down.

"As you wish," Quinton said. He returned his attention to the mess between Chuck's legs. He seemed less distracted this time. Quinton took his time lining up with Chuck. This time when he pushed in he did so with enough force to achieve his goals. Chuck sighed. He loved getting fucked. It never failed to turn his brain off in a way that topping never could.

As promised, Quinton conscientiously used only the head. His definition of inside was generous and in Chuck's favor. Even with the shallow penetration, Quinton was thick enough to please. Soon Chuck's sighs had turned towards soft, little moans. The head scraped along his cunt bone. It smashed against his g-spot. If only Quinton would lose control and fuck him deep and proper. It wasn't long before Chuck's cunt began emitting the sloppy sounds characteristic of Chuck's satisfaction.

Fuck. It sounded like his knotted dildo when he was loose enough to use it like an ordinary dildo. The slick pop and following squelch as he gave way again to the penetration. God, it felt so good.

He leaned into the sensation and tried to match his rhythm to Quinton's. It was hard. Awkward as they just missed syncing up. It didn't hurt--though if it had, Chuck wouldn't mind a little pain. This cautious, gentle treatment was nice enough but Chuck wanted Quinton to lose control and take him.

"I'll let you put all of it in if you get on top."

"What?" Chuck asked.

"You can earn the full length by tying me up and getting on top," Quinton said. He was still inside of Chuck. It was the little things like that that Chuck appreciated in ways he could never articulate to a partner.

"You brought rope?" Chuck asked. Quinton looked away and muttered something. Chuck asked him to repeat it.

"You could use my tie," Quinton said.

"Your designer, imported tie? Or your back up tie?" Chuck asked maliciously as he squeezed hard enough to eject Quinton.

"What?" Quinton asked vaguely. He took two beats to meet Chuck's eyes.

"Go get it for me," Chuck said. Quinton got up without question. His hard dick bobbed as he walked to his own bed and retrieved the tie he'd just removed. Then he went to his suitcase and retrieved what Chuck assumed to be another tie. Chuck moved to the edge of the bed and sat up. Quinton returned. In his hand was his promised tie. It was silk. Chuck almost felt bad for how he was going to ruin it. But there was also something else.

"I thought you could use this, too," Quinton said as he offered a suspiciously used shoe lace to Chuck. Cock rings made for trans men were few and far between. Chuck, like other trans men, had made enough DIY cock rings of his own to recognize when someone else did the same. Before Quinton could explain, and definitely before Chuck himself wanted to, he spoke.

"Tomorrow we're getting you a proper cock ring."

"Can we use this until then?" Quinton asked.

"No," Chuck said. He got up and took possession of the tie. "Get on the bed, face up."

Quinton obeyed much quicker than Chuck would've. It felt strange. He wasn't used to giving orders but if this was what it took to get that giant cock inside of him, well, he could fake being a total top for one night. He tied first Quinton's right wrist. Quinton winced.

"Too tight?" Chuck asked.

"Two hundred dollars is what that tie cost," Quinton said.

"Too bad you didn't bring rope," Chuck said sweetly. He expected an argument to issue forth from Quinton's lips, but the cis man stayed silent and still on the bed. Chuck wound the embroidered silk around one of the wooden bars on the headboard.

"How come you haven't bought a real cock ring for yourself?" Chuck asked as he began to tie Quinton's wrists to the headboard.

"And have my roommates find out?"

"Ever heard of discreet packaging?"

"Everyone knows what suspiciously discreet packaging," Quinton said.  

"Would that be so bad?" 

"Yes!" Quinton shouted.

"Why?" Chuck asked. The man was breathing heavily and his face was red. There was the weakness Quinton worked so hard to hide, displayed for Chuck to explore.

"Then they'd know," Quinton said darkly. Chuck paused to check the tightness.

"Everyone has sex toys," Chuck said. There. Quinton's wrists were secured. The cis man was completely at Chuck's mercy. Chuck wouldn't've done that.  

"Are you going to get on me or just say dumb shit like that all night?" Quinton asked fiercely.  

"How far do you want me to go?" Chuck asked. Oh he should've asked before this. He was breaking so many rules. This could end really, really badly.  

"No choking, no blood, no shit, no piss--except for squirters. They can't really help it."

"What?"

"Squirting? It's all piss," Quinton said with way too much authority.

"No, that's incorrect," Chuck said.  

"Everyone says it's all piss," Quinton repeated staunchly.  

"In porn, yes, sometimes the actor does pee but in private sex it's rarely pee," Chuck explained.  

"How would you know?" Quinton asked. Chuck wished he'd brought a gag.  

"I can do both," Chuck said. Quinton had the good grace to look embarrassed.

"But how do you know it's different," Quinton asked.  

"Smells different," Chuck said vaguely. Quinton looked ready to talk more. "Want me to do both on your face so you can taste the difference?"

Quinton looked away quickly. His face was red verging on purple. If he knew that much about kink why not invest? A PO Box was not that expensive. Why a shoelace? Chuck spotted Quinton's running shoes.  

Chuck collected the shoes. He left the socks behind. He brought them to the bed. He put Quinton's long boney feet into his running shoes and tied them snugly over  Quinton's questions and weak protests. Then he pulled Quinton's leg to the side and secured it to the footboard. He repeated it on the other side.  

"Fuck," Quinton said. "It's so much hotter than I thought."

Against his better judgment Chuck smiled down on Quinton. The best way to wow someone with an experience wasn't to put them through everything in quick succession. It was to drag out the experience. Built up anticipation heightened sensation.  

"Have you done anything like this before?" Chuck asked. He absentmindedly stroked the soft smooth skin thin over the bone of Quinton's ankle.  

"No," Quinton said softly. "Never."

"And how long have you wanted to?"

"Ah, I don't remember not being intrigued; we watched a lot of old television shows when we summered at my paternal grandmother's lake house."

Trust Quinton to say something that pretentious without thinking.  

"Damsels tied to the train tracks?"

"Yes," Quinton said, voice rising musically as Chuck ran his hands up Quinton's legs.  

"And I suppose, when the villain has the hero tied up and at his mercy?"

"Fuck. Oh God, yes," Quinton said as he drew a shuddering breath.  

"I bet you wondered what it would be like to be the hero," Chuck said. He trailed his fingers ever upwards completely avoiding the magnificent penis standing at attention.  

"Yes," Quinton said.  

"What would happen to you if rescue were delayed." 

Quinton hung on his every word. Chuck choked down the fear that the next word he said would break the fragile spell. Quinton always made him feel wrong footed, inadequate in a way that had nothing to do with dysphoria. He came from a family wealthy enough to pay for flying lessons. Chuck never had anything like that.  

Chuck got onto the bed. He did not miss Quinton's swift intake of breath. Near green hazel eyes followed his every movement. Chuck began the awkward process of straddling Quinton's narrow hips. His dripping cunt met the shaft of Quinton's giant cock. He smiled when Quinton failed to control the instinctive jerk of his hips. He slid along Chuck, covering himself in Chuck's slick excitement. Chuck enjoyed the stunned look on Quinton's face.

Quinton was always so self-possessed, so untouchable, so tense--when he slipped up and actually relaxed for rare moments, he was so beautiful. Every time Chuck thought he'd beaten his crush, all Quinton had to do was be himself and Chuck fell again.  Now Quinton lay under Chuck. Just as vulnerable as Chuck had always wanted to see him. Was it wishful thinking that Quinton seemed to enjoy this altered state?  

Chuck leaned forward on his knees, held close to Quinton's hips, and started the careful process of lining up dick and hole. Quinton wasn't helpful. He kept twitching. Never enough to unseat Chuck, but enough to complicate an already difficult task.  

Chuck pressed the large purple head into his cunt. Quinton shuddered beneath him. Quinton thrust forward. Chuck ignored his apologies as he recaptured the recalcitrant cock and guided it to its goal.  

"Fuck, I'm going to come if you keep this up," Quinton said. He looked stunned. Chuck smirked.  

"Can you stay hard after you come?" Chuck asked.  

"Yes," Quinton said.  

"Then it's not a problem," Chuck said.

"But it's so messy," Quinton complained.  

"Well, then you better not come," Chuck said. Quinton whimpered softly. Finally Chuck got them aligned. Quinton went easily into Chuck. It surprised him and Quinton. He loved how easy Quinton's face was to read when he actually relaxed. He was too big for Chuck to simply slam himself down.  Instead Chuck slowly took Quinton inside of him. He kept careful watch on Quinton's face. Chuck savored the surprise.  

Stretch turned to the pleasant pain just this side of unpleasant. As the sensation was crossing the line, Chuck felt Quinton's skin meet his. He didn't need to go all the way down at once. It might work for a dildo but not the delicate blood filled organ associated with humans. He rocked up and down. Quinton made little noises. His eyes were wide when they weren't closed.  

"You're incredible," Quinton whispered.  

"I try my best," Chuck said. He rolled his hips. He worked himself down until he sat on Quinton's hips. Quinton's mouth went slack. And why shouldn't it? From what Quinton said, this was a novel experience for him.  

"How are you taking this?" Quinton asked.  

"I'm good. You're really thick and I like that," Chuck said.  

"Not what I meant but I'm not going to argue with a compliment," Quinton said. Chuck couldn't quite parse the look on Quinton's face. Pleased, but something else under that. He bookmarked the expression for later examination. Then he slowly began to roll his hips.

Quinton's eyes went wide. He looked gobsmacked. His mouth hung open. It almost looked like he kept trying to ask a question but every time he got close, Chuck rolled his hips again. Quinton gazed up at him. Each movement Chuck made drew a new sound from Quinton's ever-open mouth. Quinton stayed still, not even pulling at the impromptu leg restraints. But at Chuck's latest movement, his hips jerked upward. Then Quinton looked desperate to speak. When Chuck paused, Quinton immediately asked:

"Are you okay? I didn't mean to hurt you--"

"You didn't," Chuck said. Since Quinton looked like he was going to argue, Chuck started moving. This was a hotel. He didn't have to worry about preserving the bounciness of the mattress. He could show Quinton exactly what he could take. Chuck bounced on the mattress, which caused him to bounce up and down on Quinton with minimal effort. Each time it felt like Quinton went further inside. When Chuck tuned back in, Quinton was protesting. Fuck! Had he missed his distress?

"If you keep--I'm gone--come," Quinton babbled.

"If you're a good boy and stay hard," Chuck started to say before he had to focus on not being unseated. Quinton's hips moved with surprising force. It drove his dick deeper inside of Chuck's cunt. Now they were both making noise.

When Quinton came, Chuck knew first by his facial expression. Then he felt Quinton's dick throb inside of him like it was panting it. The texture between them changed. Chuck used his cunt to milk every last bit of Quinton's come from his cock. Quinton looked liked he was watching his own soul leave his body. His mouth moved but no sound came out. Chuck started to move for his pleasure alone. Quinton shuddered beneath him. Somehow he pulled himself together and made words:

"How are--still going?" Quinton gasped out. Chuck smiled down at him.

"I haven't come yet. Now are you going to be a pillow prince and make me do all the work or--" Quinton's thrust into Chuck's cunt made a good answer. With that they were off. Quinton proved to be every bit as athletic as his muscles suggested. He was an enthusiastic lover. They never quite matched each other's rhythm. But it was good. Chuck reach down to touch his little dick. He'd just started an orgasm when Quinton unexpectedly slammed his hips into Chuck. Chuck groaned and slammed his palm against the wall to avoid doubling over. Quinton kept going. Chuck felt him began to falter. He slammed himself down on Quinton. This time it was clear from the wet noise exactly what had happened. Quinton took it in stride.

"You're such a good boy, such a good boy," Chuck crooned as he stroked Quinton's face. "Keep going, make me come again."

Straining in his bindings, Quinton fought to obey. Boneless from the drenching orgasm, Chuck wasn't much help. It was all he could do to pull his knees up from the bed. Quinton understood the assignment and picked up the pace. Squirting always gave Chuck's cunt more grip. Each time their hips met, Quinton's motions drew more and more ejaculate from Chuck's cunt. It felt like Quinton was sucking his bones out through a straw. Quinton--or was it him?--made a noise like a howl. Again, he felt the texture between them change. After that Quinton slowed to a stop. Chuck slipped wetly off of Quinton.

He drew in a ragged breath. This was the best sex he'd ever had. His crush's cum leaked out of his cunt. Chuck carefully controlled the urge to touch it. Instead, he drew himself together and sat up. Quinton's eyes remained closed. Chuck moved to unbind Quinton.

"Can't you just leave me like this?" Quinton whispered.

"No." Chuck had broken enough rules tonight. He quickly set to work on the poor tie. It was definitely ruined. "It's not safe. If you want to stay in subspace, that's okay, but you can do that untied."

"Subspace?" Quinton repeated.

He really didn't know anything. "Yes, pleasant and sorta floaty. Is that what you're feeling?"

"Yeah," Quinton answered dreamily. Chuck moved down the bed to untie Quinton's running shoes. He paused when he noticed that Quinton was crying quietly.

"Are you okay?" Chuck asked.

Quinton nodded. Chuck hurried through removing the sneakers. He left them tied to the footboard. Newly freed, Quinton curled in on himself. Chuck hauled him out of the wet spot. The fit man didn't resist. Chuck gently stroked his back. He twisted so that he held Quinton. Chuck stared down at him. So tall, so untouchable, exceptional, now he was small enough to fit in Chuck's lap. He stroked the hair that for years he'd dreamed of running his fingers through it. The many layers of color, so sleek and lovely, always stood out in a crowd, always made him visible.

Eventually, Quinton stopped crying. He pulled back, hard enough to dislodge Chuck, and Chuck let him. He wiped his nose on the back of his hand.

"I apologize about that," Quinton said, somewhat stiffly. There, there was that long, beautiful drawl. He hadn't heard it in a while.

"It's okay," Chuck said. "It's a normal reaction."

"It must be such a turn off," Quinton said. Impulsively, Chuck reached out and wiped a tear away with his thumb. Quinton said nothing as he watched Chuck's motion.

"That's not important right now," Chuck informed him. "Let's go to the bathroom and get cleaned up. We should probably both pee."

"Why, are you into it?" Quinton asked snidely. It was just really good sex. They weren't dating. He had to remember that.

"No. It's to clear everything out of your urethra. It helps prevents bladder infections."

"How do you know all this?"

"I read the entire Scarlet Teen website in middle school," Chuck said. He didn't mention all the other sites he'd spent too much time on. He slowly extricated himself from Quinton and the bedding. He offered Quinton a hand up, which he took. Together they made their way to the bathroom.

Covered in shiny plastic masquerading as marble, with silver fixtures and white towels, the bathroom was huge. Chuck peed first. Quinton spoke when he peed.

"So I guess it really is different than piss."

"Yes, having to pee afterwards is one of the many reasons I know it's not piss," Chuck said.

"Don't you have to clean out?"

"No. I'm self-cleaning."

"You wouldn't want me to lick it out?"

"No." Chuck moved to turn on the shower. He was pleased to see that the water was hot. "In case you couldn't tell, you thoroughly wore me out. I do not want to participate in more sexual activity tonight. In the morning, I will feel different. Now, get into the shower."

Again, Quinton obeyed quickly. He let Chuck wash and rinse him without protest. He stood meekly as Chuck cleaned himself. He allowed Chuck to towel him off, even wrap a towel around his hair like a girl--no matter how much dysphoria people said it should cause him, he'd never been able to stop--he was so quiet, Chuck wondered if he should worry. He bundled Quinton into robe. Quinton's only protest was that Chuck should do the same. Chuck argued that he had his own pajamas. Quinton pointed out that he too had his own pajamas. Finally Chuck was cold enough to agree.

But after that Quinton was tractable. He didn't fight as Chuck arranged the two of them in Quinton's bed. He just sat there as Chuck put on his own pajamas, baggy flannel pants with large snowflakes, and thin tank top. He didn't sleep naked. He didn't like his body that much. Quinton, it seemed, did not have those problems. When he got into bed, Quinton curled into Chuck.

"How long am I going to feel like this?" Quinton asked.

"How do you feel?" Chuck asked. Quinton glared at him. He made a vague gesture. God, his hands were gorgeous, Chuck thought unhelpfully.

"I don't know," Quinton admitted. He thought for a while. "Small?"

Chuck smiled. "It'll be gone by morning."

"Can't you do something?"

"No, it's better just to enjoy it and wait it out," Chuck said. He ran his fingers through Quinton's wet hair. Chuck reached out for the night table. His fingers touched the remote. After that, he turned the TV on. Quinton watched him closely but said nothing as Chuck flipped through the channels. Eventually, he found reruns of an old show featuring a vampire hunter falling in love with a vampire--she knew he was a hunter but somehow, he never figured out what she was. Chuck smiled. He'd identified so much with Cara when the show first aired. "Is this okay?"

Quinton was already asleep. Chuck smiled and settled down.

I hope you enjoyed this. I'm working on a part 2 as well as several other projects. Oh and the egg and ovipositor came from Fantasticocks. Maybe in the next part I'll reveal exactly which eggs Chuck has.