OnlyFans Is For Lovers Pt 4

Taking a cock up my arse was… interesting. I hunched forward over his slender frame, thighs spread wide on the mattress, fingers gently working myself open. It was difficult, a little uncomfortable, but I felt my thick fingers slowly penetrate virgin territory.
Part 3
*****
“Cameron–” I started.
But he shook his head. Just once.
“Hush. No more words.”
And he kissed me.
—
It wasn’t sweet. Not really. It was quiet, but hungry.
A kiss that dragged months of tension up from under the floorboards. All the moments we’d swallowed, all the touches we’d pretended didn’t linger. His mouth was firm, open, certain. Mine, unsure at first–then answering. Matching. Taking. I lifted him straight off his feet as I kissed him with renewed gusto, hands pulling his thighs close around me.
Between pants and moans, I backed him toward the bed in slow, unsteady steps, depositing him on the mattress. Not rushed. Just needing. His hands gripped my waist. Pulled my shirt free. I felt the fabric bunch, then lift. Gone.
He tugged his own over his head, auburn curls rumpling slightly. Tossed it aside. The lamplight caught on the edge of his collarbone, the fine line of muscle down his pale, bare torso. Not a model. Not an athlete. Just him. And somehow that undid me more than anything. I let myself dip down, kissing and licking every exposed inch until his breath came short and ragged in my ears. My cock ached in my boxers, but that seemed distant, unimportant, before my overwhelming need to sate him.
At his request, I picked him up again, his thighs impossible supple as they wrapped around me. I pressed him back into the balcony doors, the glass flush against his spine. Behind him, sparkled Paris–lights like stars, cars whispering below, the Eiffel Tower rising in the distance like some absurd promise.
I...