The Queer Principles of Kit Webb

by Cat Sebastian

They were too close and too badly angled for anything more than grinding together, Percy sliding his length over the spot that made Kit’s swearing take on a desperate edge. It was all too much for a backroom fuck, for a quick stand up against the wall. It was too much for who they were to one another. And throughout it all Percy couldn’t stop talking, could not stop saying things that were lamentably true and just as ill-advised. He ought to be concentrating on making this better for Kit instead of nattering on about how beautiful Kit was, how lovely Kit was being for him. A voice inside Percy’s head told him to stop being like this—weak, needy, desperate—but at the same time he saw the way Kit was responding to all of that, and thought that maybe it wasn’t so bad. He extricated one of his hands and brought it to Kit’s cock. Kit gasped at the contact, clenching around Percy’s length in a way that made Percy almost sob. A few strokes later and Kit was coming, Percy’s name a strangled sigh, his body hot and grasping around Percy’s. Percy pulled out and came into his own fist, his climax so hard it nearly knocked him off his feet. He collapsed against Kit and could have stayed there if he hadn’t remembered Kit’s complaints about his leg. “How’s your leg?” “How’s my leg? You’ve just had your cock up my arse and you’re asking about my leg?” “It was meant to be more of a general inquiry as to your state of well-being, but if you wish to give me an itemized list of your body part...