THE SMITHS

Chapter Thirty

WARNING : SEXUAL CONTENT

Everything feels hot and even Midas' legs felt like jelly with only Micheal all over him and the sounds of their lips slotting against each other's being only grounding force. Micheal hand a firm around around his waist, keeping Midas pressed against him without so much as a hair's length of space between their bodies. Micheal was obviously experienced, leading the kiss so seamlessly that Midas is not one bit unsure about following his lead blindly and falling apart in his arms.

Just when Midas feels himself almost run out of breath, Micheal pulls away with one last wet crash of their lips. Midas sighs shakily, he holds Micheal's gaze and when he feels the world begin to move under his feet, he belatedly realizes Micheal was walking back to the sofa with him hiked up in his arms.

Midas is eased back unto the mildly hard surface not too long after, and Micheal immediately climbs right over him. Midas' heart is almost beating out of his chest as he spreads his legs to accommodate the older who smiles, eyes dark before dipping back down to kiss him again.

Midas kisses back as best as he could, the sounds that emitted whenever their lips collided or withdrew for a breath of air growing wetter and wetter with spit as Micheal leaves no chance to explore every part of the smaller's mouth with his tongue.

His hands were back behind Midas' ear, cupping his nape as he kissed the willing boy silly, who even whines in the back of his throat when Micheal stops the assault on his spit slicked lips, kissing his jaw once before dipping down into his slim neck once again.

Midas writhes against him on the sofa, whining and moaning and struggling to even piece together coherent thoughts as Micheal alternates between soft kisses and harshly sucking on his neck. Midas has conjured up numerous varying scenarios of how his first with a then faceless man would be, but this- this was nothing like what he had pictured it to be, but at the same time, it was everything he wanted it to be and more. Micheal was as gentle as he was rough, his touches felt just right, but also never enough and Midas almost cries out at the loss whenever he feels a slight loss of Micheal's body heat against him.

As he envelops the whole of Micheal's large body with his own, arms and legs around him, Micheal works with the little freedom he's given, his hand snakes it's way under the younger's shirt, all while he sucks at a spot in Midas' neck that had him whimpering heatedly. Midas jolts slightly when the cold finger comes in contact with the erect bud of his nipple, but Micheal was licking over that spot he had been sucking on with his warm tongue and Midas is reduced into a slack jawed mess again.

Wanting more than just gripping at Micheal's clothed back, Midas' hands begin to wander, and his hands finds Micheal's washboard abs almost immediately, he runs his fingers over the hard ridges humming appreciatively between his breathy moans, now Micheal had pushed himself up slightly as Midas' curious hands began to obstruct his own ministrations, but he leans back down at the sight of those swollen, parted lips, wanting nothing more than to leave them even more swollen in his wake.

Midas is pliant, tiny whimpers are breathed into Micheal's lips as he kisses him, now pressed down against Midas again, the younger could now feel the very prominent press of something hard against his thigh, and Midas thoughtlessly reaches for it.

Micheal stutters in his steps, body locking in place in both arousal and dousing realization when Midas' long fingers suddenly palms his already aching length over the flimsy material of his baseball shorts.

He abruptly pulls away and sits up, Midas who was very aware of what he'd just gripped was still thrumming with excitement when the source of it was harshly pulling away from him. Still disoriented, he pushes himself to sit up and looks at the older in question.