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Sometimes We Get What We Need

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This was it. Jerry was in heaven. Dean had taken an age preparing him and was now sliding home with each thrust.

Jerry’s fist was clenched in the bedsheets and he was biting his lip hard to stop any embarrassing sounds coming out. All he could hear was the rhythmic slapping of Dean’s hips against his, and to his ears it was the most beautiful sound they’d ever witnessed.

He felt Dean’s breath against his ear as the Italian singer leant over his back.

“Don’t hold back those noises, Jer. I want to hear you.”

Jerry felt moisture at the corners of his eyes. He didn’t trust his natural voice to remain steady so put on his confused idiot character tone to hide it.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Just tell me what you’re feeling.” Dean’s words were casual, but Jerry sensed something urgent in the tone. Dean needed to know how Jerry was taking it.

“I’m feeling full, bubbe.”

“Yeah?” Jerry felt Dean pushing in a little harder, holding just a little longer.

“Yeah. Oh, Dean. You feel so good.”

Dean picked up his pace.

“Touch me, please.” Dean did feel exquisite inside him, but Jerry needed just a little more.

Dean suddenly changed his angle, and no amount of lip-biting could have prevented the breathy staccato moan Jerry let out.

“Oh!”

Dean pulled back and pushed in again, right at that angle, hitting the same spot that drew the moan out of him.

“Oh!”

Dean chuckled, “It’s okay, Jerry. You can stop putting it on now.”

“I’m. Oh! Not putting. Oh! Anything. Fuck. Dean!”

Jerry felt Dean slowing down, but still grinding against that part inside him that was a singing bundle of nerves.

“You mean, you’re really liking this?”

“What do you take me for? I asked for this.”

“Yeah, but no-one’s ever sounded like that before.”

Throughout their conversation, Dean hadn’t stopped pumping away and Jerry was pounding the bedsheet with his fist, the pleasure threatening to push him over the edge any second.

“Ooooh. Dean, I’m going to come.”

“What, now?” Dean sounded incredulous.

“Yes, boy. Oh!”

Jerry felt Dean’s hand slip over the head of his cock and wailed. He’d needed Dean’s hand before, but now it was too much.

“Jerry, you’re dripping.” Dean’s voice was awestruck. If Jerry had been capable of higher brain function right now he would have had a witty comeback.

“Huh. Oh!”

Jerry felt Dean’s hands grasp firmly at his hips as he set up a punishing pace, pushing Jerry up to and over his climax in a matter of seconds.

Jerry whimpered, oversensitive as Dean kept going for a few more thrusts. Jerry would have collapsed if not for the hands holding him up by his hips as he felt Dean release inside him.

Dean gently lowered him, turning him onto his back. Jerry’s eyes were still closed, but he felt the mattress shift as Dean got up to grab a damp cloth. He felt the mattress dip again when Dean returned and smiled, satisfied as Dean set about methodically cleaning him up.

Jerry opened his eyes as he felt Dean’s palm brushing back the hair that had stuck with sweat to his forehead.

“Was it good for you, bubbe,” he slurred.

Dean’s warm chuckle made his heart sing.

“Sure was, Jerm. Thought I might have lost you there for a minute at the end.”

Jerry hummed contentedly as Dean laid down beside him, a comforting warmth. His skin was sensitive and he shivered as Dean’s arm wrapped around him, pulling Jerry half on top of him in a cuddle.

The last thing Jerry remembered before falling asleep was the feeling of Dean’s lips pressing softly to the top of his head.