Cherish & Blessed

By: Tere Michaels

“I’m pretty sure someone called 911 to report a homicidal maniac driving a minivan over the Cross Bronx.”

“Not the first time. Remember when she wanted to change majors last year? That was a fun week.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?” Evan straightened up, then bumped his body into Matt’s, eliciting a little growl. A challenge.

“I thought we were reminiscing.”

“Shut up.”

It was easy to fall into this, Matt rubbing Evan’s back as they pressed closer together. Evan gripped Matt’s faded T-shirt as Matt slid his knee between Evan’s legs, feeling his erection through those super-proper wool slacks. It made Matt horny as hell.

“It’s a ridiculous mess.”

Matt shrugged, licking the curve of Evan’s jaw. “Usually is,” he muttered, using his teeth to retrace his favorite route. He could taste Evan’s five o’clock shadow and the tang of sweat. He moved his hips in a slow circle against Evan’s pelvis.

“Is this your solution to everything?”

“Yes.” Matt paused briefly. “Do you want to keep talking about this?”

Evan’s entire body heaved in Matt’s arms. “No.”

“There you go.” Matt took his time pulling off the rest of Evan’s clothing, everything ending up in a pile on the floor. He would clean up later, when Evan wasn’t heavy with stress against his body.

Everything moved slowly because they’d been doing this for years, and it was all muscle memory and intimate knowledge. What had started with shock and surprise and unsure hands had evolved into the most erotic sex in Matt’s storied history.

Evan pushed Matt’s hands away when he reached for the waistband of his briefs. He moved just enough to focus on Matt, bowing as he lifted Matt’s sleep shirt up and over.

“I could do that,” Matt whispered, but Evan shook his head.


He liked the quiet, and Matt never pushed except when he did, except when he couldn’t help but keep up a running commentary of how much he liked to fuck Evan or touch him or make him scream. Matt let him pull down his shorts and kick them aside, Evan’s face wearing a serious expression.

It didn’t surprise Matt when Evan stayed low, then dropped to his knees. It didn’t surprise him that that was exactly what Evan needed right now.

Matt drifted his fingers over the bristle-soft precision of Evan’s hair, coaxing him into relaxing, into letting go. The warm breath against his dick made him tremble as Evan waited, paused. Breathed.

Then Matt realized Evan was waiting for a reason, and a hot surge of lust pulsed up his spine.

“Okay, baby,” he murmured and grasped the base of his cock, gasping quietly. He stroked once, twice, then reached with his free hand to tip Evan’s head back.

He rubbed his fingers against Evan’s mouth, luxuriating over the warm line before pressing inside. Evan moaned, a sound seemingly coming all the way up from the soles of his feet, and Matt pushed deeper. Everything paused for a long moment: Evan sucking ravenously on Matt’s fingers, Matt jerking himself off in perfectly matched time. Then Evan pulled back, mouth still open, and Matt realized he didn’t want to make either of them wait another second.

No words, just Matt feeding his dick into Evan’s mouth, hands moving in tandem—pushing and pulling, one curved around Evan’s skull.

The switch flipped somewhere deep in Matt’s brain, and the gentle touch became a demand. Evan slid his hands up Matt’s legs, pinching and rubbing until Evan grabbed his hips in a fierce grip.

The desperate hands said “more” and “harder,” and Matt didn’t waste a second to give Evan both those things.

As Evan swallowed around him, he widened his stance, balancing to keep from being knocked to the ground by the force of Evan’s need. The tight clasp of his mouth, the hard rub of his tongue—the head of Matt’s cock brushed against the back of Evan’s throat, and the rhythm stuttered for a second.

He wanted to say, “Slow down for a second,” but Evan knew him too well and knew his body, and so when he sucked harder, Matt couldn’t do anything but twitch.

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