Chapter Three

At last, the sex! This chapter is not for puppies or children under eighteen.

As soon as we were out the door I was on him, chasing away the cold with heated kisses. Ira slipped his fingers through my belt loop and pulled me closer, making deep noises in his throat as his mouth opened. I lapped across his lips, swirling my tongue around once I was inside. The bitter burn of whatever he’d been drinking was waiting for me. Hooking one leg behind his, I bucked against him. His head fell back with a moan.

“Maybe we shouldn't do this right here in the parking lot,” he panted. “Your place or mine?”

I snorted. “Like I’m going somewhere alone with a guy I just met.”

His thumb was rubbing little circles against my hip. “What do you suggest, then?”

I pulled away from him, heading toward the dark space between the bar and the next building. Looking over my shoulder, I grinned, slow and wicked.

“You coming?”

Thankfully, he didn’t make any puns, just started after me.

Without his body close to mine the night air was uncomfortably brisk, so I didn’t waste any time in pulling him back against me. His tongue flicked mine maddeningly for a second, but then he pulled back with a chuckle.

“So you won’t go off alone with a guy you just met, but you’ll walk into a dark alley with one?”

I licked my way up his neck, his skin cool. “If you start something I can take care of myself, but if I leave who knows what I might be walking into?”

He nipped my ear, still chuckling. “Paranoid much?”

“I prefer cautious.” I grinned coyly up at him.

Ira canted a brow. “If you’re so cautious I suppose you brought—”

Before he could finish I fished around in my pocket for the condom and single-serve lube in its foil dispenser.

“I always come prepared.”

He took them both with a wide smile. “Aren’t you the little boy-scout?”

I pushed forward, pressing my hips into his. “I’m neither of those things.”

“I can see that.” His voice was husky. “Turn around.”

As I went I reached down to my belt, but Ira’s hands caught my wrists and brought them up above my head.

“Hands on the wall.” The unexpected authority in his voice sent a shudder down my spine. I heard a smug laugh next to my ear.

Next, his hands went to my belt and swiftly unbuckled it. He pushed my pants down and moved my jacket and shirt. I hissed as my bare ass was exposed to the night air. He dropped to his knees behind me and I expected to hear the sound of foil tearing. Instead, I heard his breathless, amazed laughter. His finger traced the shape I knew was above my right ass cheek.

“God,” he wheezed. “You aren’t even legal, are you?”

“Like you’d care at this point.” I bucked my hips impatiently. “Shut up and fuck me already.”

In the relative silence of the alley, him tearing open the lube seemed to echo loudly around us.

Or maybe I was just that horny.

His finger stroked over my opening and I shivered. Whether his hands were cold from the weather or the lube I didn’t know.

“Sorry,” he said, placing an almost chaste kiss on the top of my ass.

“You could have warmed it up first,” I grumbled.

He didn’t reply, just pushed his finger slowly inside. My head fell forward, my breath went short. I felt him pressing inward, his finger twisting and crooking. Obligingly, I shifted my hips and he pressed against that right spot. The cold fell away as heat shot through my body.

“Yeah,” I sighed. “Right there.”

Ira worked his finger in and out, tweaking my prostate on each pass. My breath was already short from the cold, but each jab to my sweet spot forced a harsh gasp out of me. Then the finger retreated and I moaned in protest. A soft chuckle came from behind me.

Two fingers pressed against me, and I let out a breath to relax.

“You know,” Ira said. “This isn’t very much lube.”

I choked out, “Don’t need very much.”

“That’s good, then,” he said, and pushed in.

He went slower with two fingers than he had with one, not searching out my prostate directly, just moving inside me nice and slow. Opening me up. That was just fine with me, and my erection hadn’t flagged one bit. The prostate’s awesome, don’t get me wrong, but feeling the penetration itself is erotic all on its own.

“C’mon,” I gasped. “C’mon.”

“More?” Ira asked, his voice teasing.

I nodded frantically.

“Okay, then,” he said, scissoring his fingers apart. Groaning, I pushed my hips back to meet him, wanting more, needing more. The fingers rotated inside me and I realized Ira must have swiveled his wrist.

“Oh, God,” I bit out.

My chill was all but forgotten now, washed away in a hot flood of endorphins. He brought his fingers back together and pressed forward, striking my sweet spot. Then he spread his fingers apart over it, then brought them together again. The sensation was wild, and I was making desperate, keening sounds.

“You sound so hot like that,” Ira growled.

I panted, trying to find breath. “Please,” I managed. “C’mon.”

“Two fingers not gonna do it,” he said roughly.

I was gonna make a crack about whether he was really that big, but right then he pulled his fingers out and the joke caught in my throat. There was the crinkle of foil as he squeezed out the last drops of lube. Resting my head on the rough wall, I tried to calm my heart beat and my breathing. It didn’t last long.

Three fingers began to breach my body, and a low whine spilled from my mouth. He actually went a little faster than he had with two, but his pace was steadier. I didn’t complain—anything to get the show on the road at this point. He was still thrusting his fingers, twirling and spreading them.

“Now,” I gasped. “Please, I’m ready.”

I flexed around his fingers to get my point across.

“God!” he barked, practically ripping his fingers out of me.

He was already shooting to his feet even as I was whimpering at the loss. Ira stuck the condom wrapper between his teeth and ripped the packet open. As he rolled it down himself I snuck a peak. He did look big enough for three-finger prepwork. Taking himself in one hand, he placed the other on my hip and lined us both up.

Finally his hardness started to slide into me, and we both groaned at the tight fight of it. When he was flush against me we paused for a second, both of us shaking and gasping, way too keyed up for this to last.

“I, I gotta—” he groaned in my ear.

“Yeah,” I panted. “Yeah, go.”

He started to pull back, and I tried my hardest not to moan like a pornstar. A few embarrassing whimpers escaped anyway. I never felt him get completely out of me, just to the head and and then he pushed back in. My whole body shuddered.

The sound of us filled the air, a chorus of harsh breathing and whimpered curses. I wondered if anyone leaving or entering the bar heard anything and caught an eyeful. The thought would have made me grin if I hadn’t been gasping so hard.

“Ira,” I huffed. “I need to, I need—”

Somehow he got the gist of my incoherent ramblings because he took one hand off my hip and wrapped the other around my dick. I choked on a groan as I felt fire forming in the pit of my gut. Bucking wildly, I thrust myself forward into his hand, and backwards onto the girth of his cock.

“Oh, God, oh, God!” I cried.

With an honest-to-God growl, Ira leaned in to bite down on my shoulder, and even through two layers of clothing I was gone. With a wordless cry, I was spattering the wall and Ira’s hand. A similar hoarse exclamation sounded from behind me as Ira slumped against my back. We crashed into the wall as I staggered under his weight.

We stayed like that for a minute, slumped against the wall as we waited for our hearts to slow.