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Ilya Rozanov had had a lot of sex in his life, but never consistently with the same person over an extended period of time like he had in the last week with Shane Hollander. He knew that these two weeks at the cottage were not really about the sex, but the truth was that sex had always been how they communicated their feelings for each other, and he hadn’t expected this time together to be any different. There had been a tiny voice in the back of his head that wondered if letting the sun shine on their sex life would make it less exciting, less alluring, less- well- sexy. But instead it had been beautifully liberating.
They were playful, flirty, spontaneous, emotional, feral, tender…all the things that there is never time for when you can only steal an hour or two in secret. And they made love. His Russian brain still tripped up over that turn of phrase, but he had completely embraced the concept: how incredibly different sex was when you did it as an expression of love, how monumentally better it could be.
Ilya knew that they had not just been fucking for a long time, emotions had started to bleed through probably as early as the first time Ilya had opened Shane up and pressed his cock into him. But loving honestly, openly between them- that was new. The sex they had after saying ‘I love you’ that first time had been intense, but soft in a way that kind of broke Ilya’s brain. And to his delight, every time after had been just as different, whether it was a spontaneously needy blow job, a rough fuck on the kitchen floor, or frotting in the boat house- having his heart open to Shane and allowing himself to actually feel something heightened every experience. Even better, he could feel how it had changed things for Shane too.
Over the last decade of their relationship, no matter how often they had hooked up, there had always been a tension in Shane that Ilya had to work through. The secrecy of their connection definitely added to the hotness of the situation, but Ilya also knew it stressed Shane the fuck out. He realized now that much of that anxiety had been Shane not truly acknowledging his identity as a gay man. So being here, in his own house, having come out to his parents with the world not ending, meant that Shane was finally at ease in a way that Ilya had previously only seen after he had fucked his brains out…or when he was on the ice.
In short, this week had been perfection. Ilya was pretty sure the only other time he’d been this happy was when he won his first Stanley Cup; and he was pretty sure Shane felt the same way. Shane was his rock, his center of gravity, he gave Ilya a sense of peace that made him feel safe. It had been a long time since he’d felt safe.
“I think I’ve been looking at a screen for too long today,” Shane said, dropping his controller after Ilya beat him for the third time in a row.
“Oh poor Hollander, tired of losing to me?” Ilya taunted, but the smile in his eyes cut the sting of the insult.
“To be honest, yeah,” Shane glared at him, “it’s so much easier to beat you on the ice.” Ilya rolled his eyes and collapsed dramatically into Shane’s lap.
“Oh now you’re funny guy,” he said, but then reached up and buried his fingers in Shane’s hair, pulling his head down for a kiss. Shane sighed into his mouth letting the kiss linger, finding Ilya’s free hand with his own, twining their fingers. When they separated they both had goofy grins on their faces. “So, no more screens, then what do you want to do?” Ilya asked, the hand in Shane’s hair gently scratching his scalp in the way that always made the man close his eyes and purr. Yes, Ilya knew people couldn’t actually purr, but that was the only way he could describe the gentle, satisfied humming that came from his lover.
“Well,” Shane looked out the window at the summer rain sheeting down, “we could play a board game…” Ilya broke out into a smile at that, one of his slow, radiant smiles that changed his face entirely.
“Hollander, I am not a child,” Ilya laughed. Shane blushed.
“Sorry, my parents like them, we kind of like to play them together…as a family, you know.” Ilya’s smile faded into something softer and he sat up to be on a level with Shane. He brought their joined hand up to plant a kiss on his knuckles.
“I am sorry, solnyshko, I did not mean to make fun of you. I would love to play board games with Yuna and David. It sounds just boring enough to be perfect,” he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on Shane’s lips.
“What did you call me?” Shane asked, furrowing his brow. “Sol-something?” That caught Ilya up short, and it was his turn to blush. He didn’t realize he’d said that.
“Ah, it means…like, my little sunshine…it’s a Russian- um what do you say, like sweetheart, or darling…” Ilya trailed off and Shane pounced on him, knocking him back onto the couch and capturing his lips. He opened his mouth and Shane kissed him sloppily, all tongue and lips and teeth. He cradled Ilya’s head and pulled away enough to look his boyfriend in the eye.
“I’m your sunshine?” he said with a sweet smile on his face.
“You are my love, my heart…yes, my sunshine, solnyshko,” Ilya’s smile matched Shane’s. “So, solnyshko, we will not play board games until we must play with your parents, what is your next suggestion?” Shane rolled his eyes, but his smile didn’t waver.
“Well, we could play pool?” Ilya considered for a moment.
“Okay,” he said, leaning up to give Shane a quick kiss before levering them both off the couch and dragging Shane behind him towards the stairs to the game room. “This is a good idea, you look so sexy leaning over the pool table.”
“You’re such an asshole,” Shane laughed, clearly embarrassed, but Ilya knew he also loved it when he complimented him.
“I do not think that word means what you think it means,” he said over his shoulder, and a second later he was brought up short by a jerk on their connected hands as Shane stopped abruptly.
“Did you just quote The Princess Bride at me?” He said, a look on his face that Ilya couldn’t quite read.
“Of course, is American classic, no?”
“I- yeah, yes it’s totally a classic, it’s like one of my all time favorite movies. I just…didn’t expect you to know it,” Shane said quickly.
“Ugh, Hollander, you are so slow!” Ilya said in mock exasperation, pulling Shane to him. He wrapped his arms around the man’s waist pressing them together. “You talked about it all the time, Wesley this and Buttercup that, over and over and over, I start to get jealous of this movie. Of course I watched it...several times.” Shane’s face went through half a dozen different expressions before landing in a fully dimpled smile.
“Tell me again how I didn’t realize you loved me until like a week ago?” Ilya’s heart clenched in his chest and he leaned his head forward to rest against Shane’s. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the freshness that was Shane.
“Because we are both big dumb hockey players who do not talk about our feelings,” he said softly, and then Shane’s mouth was on his kissing him so tenderly that Ilya thought he might die if they ever had to stop. Luckily, Shane ground his hips into Ilya and opened his mouth, and the kiss became a lot hotter and arousal bloomed in him. Ilya responded hungrily, a laugh bubbling up inside him at his beautiful, insatiably horny boyfriend.
He had come to understand that Shane drew comfort from sex with him, it was like it grounded him the way Ilya was grounded by Shane’s even-keeled steadiness. They filled the holes in each other’s needs so perfectly, and always had. Ilya mentally agreed with Shane- it was ridiculous that they hadn’t expressed their love earlier; but he also knew it was infinitely more complicated than that.
After a long minute of perfect making out, Shane pulled away with a nip at Ilya’s bottom lip, “I have an idea,” he said, with that adorable smile on his face that made him look simultaneously shyly proud and mischievous.
“You are Mr. Idea Man now,” Ilya said with a raised eyebrow, “always with these little ideas.”
“Yep, that’s me,” Shane said, “and haven’t they all been good ideas so far?” Ilya pretended to muse over that for a moment.
“This ‘lets be honest about our feelings’ may have been good idea-“
“It was fucking brilliant,” Shane cut him off, “you said ‘I love you’!”
“Yes, I did, and let us always remember who said it first.” Shane rolled his eyes and grabbed Ilya’s ass.
“Does everything have to be a competition with you?”
“Ugh, yes!” Ilya groaned, grinding his crotch into Shane’s hard thigh. Shane’s hands on his ass and the growing bulges in both their shorts had him feeling hornier by the second. They had fucked that morning when they woke up, but that was like 8 hours ago, and Ilya was definitely ready to go again. “Competition makes everything better- hotter- sexier,” he emphasized each word with a kiss to Shane’s lips, nose, neck. He felt his boyfriend’s body starting to shift impatiently in his arms, and knew Shane was just as turned on as he was.
“Great, then I think you’ll love my idea,” he leaned in to say in Ilya’s ear, “I think we should play strip pool.” Ilya pushed him away and held him at arms length staring at him in mock horror.
“Who are you and what have you done with my boring boyfriend?” He said. Shane just laughed, and there was a glint in his eyes that was new. Ilya’s chest grew tight as he realized he had put that glint there. Shane was relaxed and comfortable here with him, enough to be feeling playful and…well, sexy. Ilya of course always felt sexy, but he knew that Shane rarely did; which was a travesty considering how devastatingly sexy he actually was. “No, do not answer that, I am taking this sexy Shane Hollander to play strip pool, and then I am fucking him so good he forgets his own name.”
“Think a lot of yourself, do you?” Shane taunted, letting himself be pulled along behind Ilya, who threw a withering look back at him.
“I am sex god, you know this.”
“I mean…the sex is good, sure, sometimes great,” Shane was still smiling at him, and now it looked downright saucy. Ilya sucked in a breath: oh he was going to fuck Shane Hollander.
“Is that challenge? You are challenging me, yes?” Ilya barked, his English slipping a little as he got excited. They had finally made their way into Shane’s game room, the beautiful mahogany pool table sitting off to one side, with a very expensive light fixture glowing warmly above it. The game room was on the lower level of Shane’s cottage, and had one floor to ceiling glass wall facing the lake. The overcast day meant that instead of being flooded with sunlight, the room was mostly dark and felt intimate…sexy. Shane finally let Ilya’s hand go and made his way over to the rack of pool cues mounted on the wall. They were polished to a gleam and elegant.
“Well, your first challenge is getting me undressed, which means beating me at pool,” he said confidently, hefting a cue and chalking the tip. Ilya stalked over to get his own cue, looking Shane up and down.
“Perhaps you should have put more clothes on before we started,” he said, “I will have you naked before you even get a turn.” They were wearing just a pair of shorts and a t-shirt each…not even underwear or socks. In truth, they would both be naked very quickly, regardless of how good either of them was at pool.
“I thought you wanted me naked anyway,” Shane laughed.
“I always want you naked,” Ilya deadpanned. It was taking all his willpower to continue with their banter and play the game, and not just rip Shane’s clothes off now and fuck him against the wall. But he was enjoying the playfulness, and they had both come so often in the last few days that he could wait…plus, he was feeling a little dirty; he wanted Shane fully aroused and on edge for as long as he could manage before giving him an orgasm. “So what are the rules?” he said, stepping to one end of the pool table and racking the balls. Shane gave him an odd look, as if to say really, that’s all you want to say?
“Well, I was thinking one piece of clothes for each ball the other guy sinks…and then after we’re…well after there’s no more clothes, how about the person who sinks a ball gets to kiss the other person?” Ilya considered for a moment, rubbing a hand up and down his pool cue in a distinctly erotic manner…an idea starting to form in his head.
“Yes, these rules seem good to me, who will break?”
“You can go first,” Shane said, with a deceivingly innocent look on his face. Ilya narrowed his eyes at him, but bent over the table to take aim without question. His first shot wasn’t half bad and the break was solid enough that he actually sank a ball. Yellow stripes. He looked at Shane and raised an eyebrow. The dark haired man smiled back at him and without hesitation lifted his t-shirt over his head and tossed it onto a recliner. “Your turn still,” he said. Ilya looked him in the eye with a heated gaze before pulling his attention back to the table and lining up his next shot. He was not going to miss.
Sure enough, a moment later Shane’s shorts followed his shirt, and then he was standing naked in front of Ilya, his cock already hard.
“Fuck Hollander,” Ilya breathed, “you are so beautiful.” Shane blushed and bit his lip at that, and it made him all the more alluring. Shit. Ilya had never had better motivation to shoot pool accurately, he wanted nothing more than to keep sinking balls so he could kiss Shane all over and then fuck him into a sobbing mess.
“You’re the beautiful one,” Shane said shyly. God, how could he still be shy? “It’s still your turn…”
“Was this your plan all along? You just wanted me to get you naked?” Ilya said, knowing he was right when Shane flushed a deeper pink.
“Maybe,” he said with a coy smile. “Are you going to hurry up and get some more balls in the holes?”
“Watch me.”
And red stripes rocketed into a corner pocket. He darted quickly around the end of the pool table and crushed Shane to him in an open mouthed kiss. He didn’t linger long though before letting a now breathless Shane go and lining up his next shot: green stripes followed red. This time Shane stepped eagerly towards Ilya, but instead of wrapping him close for another kiss, Ilya stopped him with a hand on his chest. Shane looked at him quizzically before Ilya dipped his head and roughly kissed his neck.
“Shit, Ilya…” Shane breathed, tilting his head to give the blonde man better access. He brought his hands up to tangle in those soft curls, and then gasped as Ilya tweaked one of his nipples at the same time he bit down on his throat. All too soon though, Ilya pulled away and moved back to the table, a very satisfied smirk on his face.
Blue stripes in the side pocket; lips and teeth closing on Shane’s nipples…
Orange stripes in a corner pocket; Ilya’s tongue swirling in Shane’s navel…
Purple stripes in a side pocket; tongue and lips caressing the crease of Shane’s hip…
Shane was trembling as Ilya’s mouth explored him everywhere except where he wanted him to go, teased by breath ghosting over his hard and aching cock. His whole body was alight with feeling and warmth and Ilya. Ilya flowed back up to standing and leaned in as if he were going to kiss Shane but stopped a breath away from his lips, “One more ball…” he said softly, and then tore himself away from the expanse of beautiful creamy skin to focus on the 8 ball. Crack! Thump…in a corner pocket. For a second Ilya reveled in the fact that he’d just run the table, but it was a small triumph compared to how thoroughly he’d aroused his partner.
He looked over at Shane who was still just standing there, hard cock jutting up in front of him, and a beautiful look of need on his face. Oh god, he was exactly where Ilya wanted him to be, desperate and needy for release…and Ilya was only getting started. He took the opportunity to pull his own shirt over his head and toss it to the side. He stepped directly in front of Shane, dropped smoothly to his knees and took Shane down his throat in one swift motion.
“Oh fuck!” Shane cried out and clutched at Ilya’s head, thrusting into the hot mouth involuntarily. Ilya sucked hard and massaged his tongue along the underside of Shane’s shaft, bringing his own hands up to grip that perfectly hard, round ass. “Shit Ilya, oh god, oh fuck you suck cock so good…fuck I’m gonna cum,” Shane babbled, hips moving desperately. But instead of pushing him over the edge, Ilya drew his mouth off the hard dick with a loud slurp and stood up, pressing Shane to him, trapping his cock between them.
“No,” he said into Shane’s mouth before kissing him deeply, and then “I’m not letting you cum until you are begging for it.” Shane dug his fingers into Ilya’s shoulders and dropped his head to the crook of Ilya’s neck.
“I AM begging you for it!” he whined.
“No, no, no, this is not begging, this is wanting,” Ilya crooned, running his fingers through the silky dark hair. “I know you want to cum, but you are not desperate for it, not nearly enough yet.” Ilya cradled Shane’s head in his hands and lifted it to look him in the eye. “I want you shaking and sobbing, unable to say anything other than ‘please Ilya, let me cum’ before I let you.”
He swallowed Shane’s shocked gasp in another open mouthed kiss. He wrapped his arms around him and devoured his mouth for several minutes, hands caressing and exploring the impossibly soft skin of Shane’s back and ass the whole time. When he finally broke the kiss they were both panting with need, and Ilya’s cock was rock hard inside his shorts.
“Your strip pool plan was good, lisichka, but I did not get to see your pretty ass in the air when you bend over the table to shoot,” Ilya finally said. To his surprise, Shane laughed.
“And who’s fault is that, greedy bastard. You could have let me play at least a little.”
“Ah, no, if I am able to win I will win, of course,” Ilya shrugged, “was I supposed to lose and not get you naked and kiss your beautiful body?” The body in question flushed pink at the compliment.
“Well, I guess when you put it that way…” he said shyly. “Um…so now what?”
“Now you bend over the table for me,” Ilya said in Shane’s ear. The words sent a shiver rippling through him and he clutched at Ilya. “You are so turned on for me, I am going to break you,” Ilya whispered.
“Fuck you,” Shane said, the words hitting him like a challenge. He pushed himself away from Ilya who was laughing delightedly. He stepped back, crossed his arms over his chest, and just tilted his head towards the pool table. Shane huffed and put his hands on his hips, looking petulant. But his cock was still standing hard in front of him, a bead of pre-cum glistening at his tip, and Ilya could see he wanted to do what he’d been told. It just wasn’t in either of them to give in easily; it was part of what made their connection so damn hot.
Ilya was the naturally dominant one between them, but Shane was not a pushover. He gave as good as he got, and often took control of their love making, in his own way. However, Ilya knew that in certain situations, when he could get Shane to a particularly obedient mindset, everything got heightened and more intense for both of them. So he stared Shane down, radiating control, and waited for him to comply. Shane held his gaze for a long moment before an involuntary shiver ran through him and he dropped his eyes turning to face the pool table.
Ilya smiled and quickly stepped up behind him before he could bend over, wrapping one arm around his waist and using the other to turn Shane’s head to the side so he could kiss him. He ground his erection into Shane’s ass and Shane moaned into his mouth. He pulled his mouth away and replaced his tongue with his thumb. Shane sucked him hard and Ilya felt it in his dick.
“Fuck Hollander,” he moaned into Shane’s hair, roughly fucking his mouth with the thumb. He slid his other hand down to grip Shane cock and give it a rough tug. Shane made a choking noise around Ilya’s thumb and thrust himself into Ilya’s fist. But before he could get any real relief Ilya released him and pushed on his back. Shane was panting but let himself be bent over and put his hands out to prop himself up on the surface of the pool table. It was a few inches below the level of his hips, so he was fully bent at a right angle, ass on display.
Ilya trailed his hand firmly down Shane’s spine with a pressure that clearly said ‘don’t move’, and ended with a sharp slap to one of Shane’s ass cheeks. The gasp that escaped Shane made Ilya’s dick twitch. God, Shane made the most beautiful sounds. Ilya thought that it might be the sounds his lover made when he was being fucked that finally undid him, how could he not fall in love with that kind of perfection?
He caressed away the sting of the slap, and then used both hands to continue to explore every inch of Shane that was laid out before him. Through his touch he could feel Shane’s body start to awaken; his dick had already been more than ready, but he wanted every once of Shane Hollander to feel the orgasm when it came.
“Oh, fuck, Ilya,” Shane breathed as fingers ghosted down the insides of his thighs. He instinctively shifted his feet farther apart and arched his back, opening himself to his boyfriend’s touch. “I need you,” he turned his head to the side and curled his fingers where he braced them against the table top, “fuck Ilya, I need you to touch me!” Ilya smiled to himself as he continued on his mission, keeping his touches light and away from Shane’s cock. He trailed his fingers up Shane’s sides, tracing the contours of hard muscle and soft flesh, over his ribs and shoulders. He threaded one hand into Shane’s dark hair, cradling the back of his head, and wrapped the other gently around his neck. He leaned heavily over Shane’s body, pressing him against the table.
“We are getting closer to begging,” Ilya said in a low voice, lips almost touching the shell of his ear, “but you are not there yet.” Shane’s body squirmed beneath him, clearly communicating his disagreement. Ilya used the hand on Shane’s neck to pull his head up and kissed him until he felt Shane’s hips moving more purposefully, rutting against the table in his need.
He broke the kiss and shifted himself off of Shane, propping one hip on the edge of the table so he was sitting next to him, but still close enough that he could keep a hand on his back. Shane let out a shaky breath and pushed himself up to his elbows, turning to glare at his boyfriend.
“I thought you were going to fuck me,” he huffed, “and here I can’t even get you to touch me!” Ilya let his hand trail lightly down Shane’s spine and smiled as a delicious shiver ran through his body.
“I am touching you,” Ilya said, “it is called foreplay, Hollander.”
“Oh fuck you, Rozanov,” Shane said pushing himself off the pool table, grabbing Ilya’s head and crushing their mouths together. Ilya shifted around to let Shane stand between his legs, molding their bodies together. He let the kiss go on for long enough that he started to doubt he would be able to stick to his plan, but then Shane bit his lip sharply, snapping him back.
“Ow! You will pay for that,” Ilya said, pushing Shane’s mouth away from him. The dark haired man was grinning cheekily, and Ilya couldn’t help the slow smile that crept onto his face as well. Then, touching his lip, “I think you drew blood!”
“Well, you deserved it,” Shane said, but leaned back in to swipe his tongue over Ilya’s lip, “I fucking know what foreplay is, and I’m so fucking ready.” Ilya brought his hand up to brush his fingers across Shane’s flushed cheek; he loved the way those delicate freckles darkened when he was aroused.
“My beautiful, impatient, horny boyfriend.”
“I’m not impatient!”
“You are,” Ilya crooned, “you are needy and whine for my cock, and come so pretty when I give it to you,” the hand on his face moved to cup Shane’s cheek, fingers playing with his ear lobe, his other hand gripped his waist letting his thumb caress the line of muscle that angled directly to Shane’s groin. Shane’s eyes drifted shut and a soft moan escaped him as he leaned into the touches.
“Shane, lisichka, please will you let me do this my way?” Ilya said firmly. He let his voice take on a hint of command and felt a rush of arousal at the reaction he got. Shane’s stomach muscles clenched under his touch and the dark head leaned more heavily into his hand as Shane gave in to him.
“Yes,” he finally murmured.
“Good, because now I am the one with idea,” he said, turning Shane’s head to look him in the eye. “Go and get the lube and condoms and bring them to me.” Shane bit his lip and then taking a shaky breath in, pulled himself away from Ilya. He walked over to a side table where he knew Ilya had stashed supplies; because of course Ilya had stashed supplies in every room in his house. Ilya watched Shane walk back to him, his cock still hard, his body chiseled into light and shadow by the warm glow from the fixture over the pool table. Ilya realized for the first time that it was the only light in the room. The grey skies outside muted everything around them, making the pool of light surrounding the table feel like a glowing island in the dark. And god Shane was beautiful. He was almost too beautiful, it made Ilya’s mouth go dry and heart pound in his chest just to look at him…even after all this time.
“Here,” he said, holding his hand out to Shane, “come.” Shane came, and dropped the lube, condoms, and a pack of baby wipes into Ilya’s outstretched hand, and then just stood there in front of him, waiting. Ilya dropped the items onto the pool table beside him and looked at Shane. The man was gazing back at him with quiet, hooded eyes, his face serene and blank. Ilya loved it when Shane got like this.
It wasn’t really submission; Ilya was familiar with the D/s dynamic, and had been a light Dom to several lovers over the years. In fact he’d found it was something that people seemed to expect from him. But Shane was not really a submissive. He did sometimes surrender completely to Ilya, letting him take all responsibility for the act of sex and control of his body, because it liberated him, letting him simply feel the pleasure. And it let him go somewhere mentally; Ilya didn’t think it was really a true subspace, but something more unique to Shane. In fact, he had come to think of it as Shanespace in his head. Whatever it was, it was intoxicating when it happened, and made Ilya feel fiercely protective and ravenously feral at the same time. He reached out to caress Shane’s face again, wrapping his hand behind his head and pulling him closer. Shane’s eyes drifted shut and a small, private smile bent his lips.
“Shane, zolotse, look at me.” Shane opened his eyes slowly. When Ilya had his gaze, he finally slid off the edge of the pool table where he had been sitting and stood chest to chest with Shane. He leaned forward and kissed him, light and shallow, like a flutter of butterfly wings. Shane leaned into the kiss, letting out a soft moan that slipped into Ilya’s mouth. Ilya smiled and pulled back, bringing a hand up to lift Shane’s chin so he could look him in the eye again. “Now you are begging for it,” he said softly. Shane exhaled and shivered, but managed the barest of nods in acknowledgement. Ilya sucked in a sharp breath, oh god Shane was already farther gone than he expected, and he had barely done anything yet. He reached behind him and then brought his discarded pool cue up between them. He held it wrong end up and rubbed the blunt butt over one of Shane’s nipples.
“I am going to bend you back over this table,” Ilya said in a low voice, “and I am going to eat your ass until you are shaking, and then I am going to fuck you with this.” Shane froze for a moment, and then with a low moan let his head fall forward onto Ilya’s shoulder, sagging against him as if Ilya’s words had melted his bones.
“Oh fuck, Ilya, you’re crazy,” he breathed out. Ilya moved his free hand to pet him, running it soothingly across his back and shoulders.
“Maybe. Probably, yes,” he said, “but you love it.” He felt Shane let out a strangled sob.
“Fuck you,” he turned his head to kiss Ilya’s neck, his arms wrapping around Ilya’s waist.
“I am trying,” Ilya laughed, and then brought Shane’s face up to look him in the eye one more time. “But do you want it?” Ilya asked, rubbing the pool cue against Shane’s neck suggestively. “Yes, it is new for us, playing with toys…and yes this is not really a toy…but it is such a nice shape, and will touch you so deep…and I will be gentle…” Shane swallowed hard and once again was only able to manage a slight nod. A rush of heat flooded Ilya as he got that nod of surrender. He surged forward and kissed Shane passionately, trying to put as much love into it as he could.
When they broke apart Ilya quickly moved Shane back into position bent over the table again. Shane went completely willingly, laying with his arms splayed to the sides, shifting his feet apart and lifting his ass. Ilya wasted no time kneeling behind him, running his hands over sculpted calves and thighs, and up to the perfectly shaped ass. He followed his hands with soft, wet kisses, fingers exploring, probing, separating his cheeks to make room for his mouth. When Ilya’s tongue pressed against Shane’s hole, a breathy, broken moan escaped him.
“Oooh fuck, Ilya, that’s so good…” Shane’s body tensed, his hole spasming, eager for more. It was all the encouragement Ilya needed and he went to work. He loved eating Shane out, loved the way it made him tremble with need, loved the sounds he made: the gasps, the mewls, the choked moans that always ended in his name. He kept his tongue flat and firm, massaging the opening…he licked long stripes that started at his perineum and ended with a swirl around his hole…he fluttered the tip of his tongue against the sensitive, puckered flesh. It took only minutes before Shane was gasping and moaning, his legs shivering, and the ring of muscle he had been teasing relaxed enough for Ilya to press his tongue inside.
That first penetration drew a gutterral moan from Shane, and he arched his back wantonly. Ilya gripped his ass and tongue fucked him sloppily, trying to get him as wet and relaxed as possible. Too soon Shane was gasping, “Oh Ilya I’m gonna cum!” Oh god, Ilya thought, just from his tongue! Reluctantly, Ilya backed away, but replaced his tongue quickly with a finger which he pressed in to the second knuckle.
“Fuck, Rozanov!” Shane cried out, his knees buckling a little. His hands scrabbled desperately at the felt of the table top, trying to find something, anything to hold onto.
“Relax, Hollander, relax,” Ilya crooned, gently caressing Shane’s side with his free hand, willing his body to calm, “I’ve got you, you’re good.” He gently thrust his finger several times, loving the way Shane’s body opened for him as he added a second finger.
“Ngh, oooh, fuck, oh fuck, Ilya,” Shane gasped, rocking his hips back onto those amazing fingers that were pressing deeper and deeper. “Oh fuck, oh fuck…oh fuck, more- Ilya I need more…oh god I need you to fuck me deep…” Ilya choked back a moan of his own, the words were so dirty and needy and beautiful. He was desperate to give Shane everything, anything he wanted, he needed to shatter him with pleasure…but he needed to prepare things in order to go further, which meant he had to leave Shane empty for a moment. He eased his fingers out of Shane, who shuddered and raised up on his toes, as if trying to chase the fingers back inside him. Ilya placed the hand on his lower back soothingly.
“I will be right back, zoloste,” he said gently, then stepped away from him entirely so he could quickly prepare the pool cue. He silently thanked Shane for bringing over the wipes as he cleaned the end of the stick and then coated it liberally with lube. As he worked his hand up and down the length he felt a moment of trepidation, thinking maybe this was too crazy an idea for them. But damn, once he had the idea he couldn’t stop thinking about it…and the way Shane had reacted to the suggestion was…incredibly hot. And aside from it being, well, really long, the blunt end of the cue was only an inch and a half thick at most. His own cock was thicker than that, and not particularly short either.
“Ilya…” Shane’s voice was a desperate moan, and snapped him back to the present. He looked around to see that Shane was watching him slick up the cue. His face was a mask of need, hands above his head gripping the opposite side of the pool table. “Need you…to fuck me…please…” he breathed, eyes wide and glued to the sight of the hard shaft sliding through Ilya’s fist.
“Fuck, Hollander,” Ilya rasped, and then he was behind his lover, pressing the end of the cue to Shane’s hole. It met resistance for just a moment before sliding inside Shane, who moaned and arched his back.
“Ooooh, my god I can’t believe you just put that inside me…fuck that feels good…” Shane groaned as Ilya gently thrust the cue into him, going a little deeper each time. Ilya was painfully hard now, something wild waking inside him watching his boyfriend's asshole take something that wasn’t his cock. It was just so…dirty for them. He breathed deeply, trying to calm himself. He knew he needed to be careful and in control with this…but the way Shane was writhing and moaning with just a couple inches inside him was really testing him. He placed one hand on Shane’s lower back, pressing down a little to hold him still, and then angled the pool cue down and thrust in slowly until…
“Oh god!” Shane cried loudly, and Ilya knew he’d found his prostate. Grinning to himself he eased back and then pressed in again, right into that magical spot. Shane groaned. Ilya thrust again. He kept his pace agonizingly, punishingly slow, thrusting into Shane’s prostate in a way that was giving him intense pleasure, but not pushing him too close to the edge. “Fuck Ilya, oh fuck, oh fuck, ngh, ngh, oh god, oh fuck…” Shane moaned desperately. His body didn’t seem to know how to handle the feelings, his legs twitching and shaking, his upper body arching and bowing convulsively. “Ilya I need…oh fuck, I need more…something…different, oh god…I need you to fuck me deep!” The words came out in a stream and Ilya bit his lip at hearing Shane ask him for more.
On his next thrust Ilya changed the angle and pressed deeper.
“Oh yesss,” Shane groaned, which was all the encouragement Ilya needed. He kept his thrusts slow, but added more pressure, and more of the hard, wooden shaft sank into his boyfriend's body. He was careful to watch for any discomfort from Shane, the hand on his back reading the unspoken language of Shane’s body.
“How does it feel, lyubimiy,” Ilya crooned.
“Oh god, I don’t- I don’t know…it’s so different from your cock, I don’t know why it feels…so goood…” Shane’s hips were rocking back onto the pole, urging Ilya to go deeper still.
“It feels good because it is naughty…” Ilya pulled the cue all the way out of Shane and pressed back in one long even thrust, “and dirty,” Ilya repeated the movement, trying to gauge how much of the cue Shane was taking. It looked like maybe eight inches…he was pretty sure Shane could take more. He bent over Shane to place soft kisses on his shoulder and caressed his free hand up his back soothingly.
“Shane, dusha moya, I am going to push until you tell me to stop. You must tell me when it is too much…” He waited for a response but Shane didn’t answer at first, just breathed deeply, a slight tremble quaking his whole body. “Zolotse, please look at me,” Ilya said, his tone a little more commanding. Slowly Shane turned his head to look at him, and his face looked almost sleepy. Ilya realized he was deep into Shanespace, but he did focus his eyes on him and nod slowly.
“You are still ok? You understand?” Ilya asked one more time.
“Yes Ilya,” Shane smiled, “please…I want more…”
“Oh god, you are so perfect, you are made for sex,” Ilya groaned.
“Made for sex with you,” Shane murmured, reaching a hand out to him. Ilya took it and twined their fingers together. Then he pressed the cue into Shane. He went slow but steady, and Shane’s eyes fluttered shut and a breathy moan escaped him. Ilya watched him closely as he passed what he had thought was about eight inches without Shane saying anything. He went even slower, pressing until it was Shane’s body that stopped him when he came up against resistance. Shane hadn’t said a word but was moaning softly, so Ilya tentatively pressed just a little harder.
“Fuuuck,” Shane breathed, “there Ilya, oh god, there…” Ilya froze, and thought Shane was telling him to stop, that it was too much, but to his surprise Shane rocked himself back, as if wanting more.
“Tell me what you want, zolotse.”
“Pressure…I don’t…I don’t know what this feeling is, but I want it…fuck so deep, so good…nngghh,” Shane ended on a choked moan as Ilya gave him what he asked for and thrust shallowly, gently, against the resistance inside him. Encouraged by the frankly obscene noises Shane was making, Ilya moved the shaft in a tiny circular motion. “Oh FUCK!” Shane threw his head back and groaned deep and guttural, “oh fuck, oh fuck, Rozanov, ooooh…oh god…what are you doing to me…don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop…”
“Oh fuck, Shane, you are killing me, you are so good,” Ilya choked out. He was so fucking turned on, he was going to push Shane to orgasm and then he was going to fuck him with his own cock until he spilled inside him. He wondered if this penetration would send Shane over the edge; his perfect boyfriend did have a habit of being able to cum in unexpected ways.
He watched and felt Shane closely as he continued to press against that resistance inside. It felt like bottoming out against a woman’s cervix, but that was usually painful, and nothing about what Shane was expressing indicated he was feeling anything other than intense pleasure. He withdrew almost fully and pressed deep again, felt the resistance, and then all the sudden it wasn’t there and the cue slid another inch inside.
The noise Shane made was unlike anything Ilya had ever heard from him before and he froze, terrified he had hurt his precious boyfriend. But it was not a sound of pain. It was a deep, feral, strangled moan. Ilya was still frozen, the hard wooden shaft still buried deep in Shane’s ass as a full body tremble that turned into uncontrollably shaking legs washed over him, and Ilya realized he was coming…hard.
“Oh my fucking god, Hollander,” Ilya rasped, his mouth suddenly dry as he watched the massive orgasm rip through his boyfriend, realizing he hadn’t touched Shane’s cock even once. He shifted so he could ease the cue out of Shane, but the action must have moved the shaft inside of him because he cried out and convulsed, and oh my god he was still coming, and Ilya couldn’t help himself and he thrust the cue just a little, wanting to milk as much pleasure out of Shane as he could.
“Ooooooh fuuuuuuck fuuuck fuuuuck,” Shane groaned brokenly, his body still shaking, a sheen of sweat covering his back and ass and legs. And all the sudden Ilya needed to be inside him. He slid the pool cue out of him, not missing the choked sound Shane made as it slipped from his body. Ilya watched as fully ten inches of wood revealed themselves, and had to marvel at what Shane had taken, but only for a moment before he tossed it aside and grabbed a condom which he rolled on to himself faster than he ever had before.
He stepped behind Shane and leaned over him to scoop him up to standing. Shane was still trembling and his legs were shaky at best and he fell heavily back against Ilya, his head falling to Ilya’s shoulder. Ilya wrapped one arm around Shane’s chest to hold him steady, and with his other hand took his cock and lined himself up with Shane’s entrance. He bent his knees so he could get enough leverage and when his head pressed into Shane the man cried out.
Ilya almost came right then. Shane was still tight. He had just fucked him to the most intense orgasm he had ever seen and the man was still. Fucking. Tight. Ilya groaned as he pressed his full length up into his lover and turned Shane’s head so he could kiss him. Shane was putty in his hands and he plundered his mouth with his tongue the way he was plundering his body with his cock. He thrust roughly now, too needy to be gentle, pounding into Shane as hard as the awkward angle would allow. Shane completely surrendered to the fucking, his body almost limp in Ilya’s arms…except for the shaking that wouldn’t stop, and the way Shane’s abdominals were still convulsing under his hand, and the wetness that dribbled onto his hand…Shane was still coming. Ilya didn’t last more than a dozen thrusts before pressing deep and crushing Shane to his chest as he came.
“Oh, fuck, Hollander,” he moaned softly against Shane’s mouth, a little surprised that that was the name that spilled from him in this moment. As soon as he was spent his legs gave out too, and he lowered them somewhat less than gently to the floor. He collapsed to his knees, Shane sitting awkwardly in his lap, Ilya still inside him. Shane was an almost boneless dead weight in his arms, but as he held him pressed tight against his chest he could feel the strong, pulsing thunder of Shane’s heart beating against his; felt the hot caress of Shane’s breath against his cheek. Ilya turned to kiss him, and Shane’s lips moved lazily with his.
“Mmm, Ilya…Ilya…Ilya…” Shane breathed into his mouth. Ilya cradled his face and kissed him everywhere, his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids, the top of his head, and a stream of Russian spilled from him unguarded.
“Ya tebya lyublyu, moye solnyshko, moya krasavitsa, moye serdtse, ty prosto ideal’na…ya tak sil’no tebya lyublyu, i ne mogu poverit’, chto ty tozhe menya lyubish…”
“You’re so sexy when you speak Russian,” Shane murmured, sounding almost drunk. Ilya choked on a bark of laughter that might also have been a sob, and just crushed Shane to him even tighter. How the fuck were they going to move on from this week of confessions and love?
He took a deep, shaky breath and eased his grip on Shane so he could look at him. His boyfriend’s eyes were closed and his face had that peaceful, blissful, gentle smile that undid Ilya whenever he saw it. His heart clenched. He needed to get them somewhat cleaned up and somewhere comfortable so Shane could give in to the sleep that was already heavy in his body. Coming like that…Ilya was still in awe at what he’d done to him, and was already desperate to give Shane pleasure like that again…but right now he needed to take care of him in a different way.
He reached his arm up and was just able to snag the baby wipes off the top of the pool table. There was no way he was letting go of Shane, but he was able to get one arm under his leg and with the other wrapped around his chest he could lever Shane up enough to slide out of him. He fumbled with one hand to remove the condom and wipe himself down with a baby wipe, wrapping it all up into a neat little ball that he set aside, and then with another wipe cleaned Shane off as much as he could. Luckily most of Shane’s ejaculate had hit the side of the pool table and not either of them…and Ilya could deal with that mess and the pool cue later.
Clean enough for now, he scooped Shane up and stumbled over to the massive leather couch on the opposite side of the game room. He considered the couch, and then the man in his arms. Still unwilling to let Shane go, he balanced on one leg and used his toes to grab one of the blankets from the arm of the couch and shake it open as best he could before settling them down on top of it.
“Shane, dusha moya, how are you?” Ilya murmured as he adjusted them into a more comfortable position. Shane hummed contentedly and shifted himself around to snuggle against Ilya’s chest.
“I am happy,” he said, and he sounded happy. Ilya grabbed an edge of the blanket and pulled it over them, wrapping Shane in the cocoon of his arms.
“I am happy you are happy,” he said, kissing the top of Shane’s head.
“And you are officially a sex god,” Shane said sleepily, but Ilya could hear the smile in his voice.
“Only for you, solnyshko,” Ilya said quietly into his hair, “only for you forever.” But the deep and even rise of Shane’s chest against his told him Shane was already asleep.
Russian translations:
Solnyshko - my sunshine
Lisichka - little fox
Zolotse - precious
Lyubimiy - beloved
Dusha moya - my soul
“Ya tebya lyublyu, moye solnyshko, moya krasavitsa, moye serdtse, ty prosto ideal’na…ya tak sil’no tebya lyublyu, i ne mogu poverit’, chto ty tozhe menya lyubish…”
“I love you my sunshine, my beautiful, my heart, you are so perfect..I am so in love with you, I can’t believe you love me too…”