Jake slammed the door shut behind them, his hand already yanking at the front of my jeans. "You keep saying there's a difference," he growled, voice low and rough. "MM romance is all soft looks and slow builds in books. Gay romance? It's this. Two guys who know exactly what a cock feels like down their throat and don't bullshit about it."
I shoved him back against the wall, grinding my hard dick against his thigh. "Prove it then. Show me the gay version." My fingers worked his belt open fast, yanking his pants down to free his thick shaft. It sprang up heavy and leaking, the head already shiny with precum. I wrapped my fist around it and stroked once, hard, from base to tip, thumb smearing that slickness around.
Jake hissed and thrust into my grip. "MM would have us whispering sweet shit first. Gay is me telling you to get on your knees and suck my cock like you mean it." He grabbed the back of my head and pushed me down. I went willingly, mouth open, tongue out to lick a stripe up the underside of his dick before swallowing him deep.
The taste hit me immediatesalt, musk, that raw man flavor. I bobbed fast, no teasing, taking him to the back of my throat and gagging on purpose because I knew he liked the sound. Spit ran down my chin as I worked him, one hand cupping his balls and tugging just enough to make him curse.
"Fuck yes," he grunted, hips snapping forward. "That's the difference. No fade to black. Just filthy sucking until I decide to flip you over and wreck that ass."
He pulled me off after a minute, strings of spit connecting my lips to his cock. We stripped the rest of the way in seconds, clothes tossed anywhere. Jake spun me around and bent me over the arm of the couch. His fingers, slick with spit and the lube he grabbed from the drawer, pushed between my cheeks and found my hole. He shoved two in at once, no slow prep, just stretching me open with rough twists.
I pushed back on them, grunting. "MM romance would take chapters to get here. Gay romance is you finger-fucking me until I'm begging for the real thing."
"Damn right." He pulled his fingers out and lined up his cock. One hard thrust and he was buried balls-deep inside me.
The burn was perfect, that full stretch making my own dick twitch and drip onto the couch. Jake didn't wait. He started pounding, hips slapping loud against my ass, each stroke driving deep and pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in.
The room filled with the wet sounds of skin on skin and my moans mixing with his filthy talk. "Feel that? That's gay romancetaking it raw and rough because we both know what we want. MM would be all candlelight and gentle rolling. This is me owning your hole until you shoot without even touching your cock."
He reached around and fisted my dick, jerking it in time with his thrusts. I came first, shooting thick ropes across the couch cushion, my ass clenching tight around him. Jake followed seconds later, burying himself deep and flooding me with hot cum, pulsing hard until it leaked out around his shaft.
We stayed like that, breathing heavy, his weight pressing me down. After a minute he pulled out slow, watching his load drip from my used hole. "So yeah," he said, voice still rough. "That's the difference. One's fantasy. This is the real, dirty thing."
He pulled me up and kissed me hard, already half-hard again against my thigh. Round two started without another word.
