Oberon’s hands roamed over Ángel’s body, stripping his pants off his hips. Ángel squirmed to kick them away, broke the kiss long enough to gasp, “You too. Naked,” then pulled Oberon down for another kiss.

Oberon did not seem to be one for rushed fumbling with clothes while swapping spit, however. He pushed Ángel firmly into the mattress, stood up, and undressed, revealing in the dim room a magnificent nakedness. He was graceful and strong, mottled like a jaguar; Ángel’s eyes traveled to his smooth, pale, perfectly recognizable cock and balls. Then Oberon crawled over Ángel on the bed, entirely lionlike. He pinned him snugly with his body, their dicks jostling together.

Ángel shuddered. “God!” Oberon lowered his face to Ángel’s, his breath on Ángel’s lips, and used one big long-fingered hand to grasp their cocks together. “Oh my God,” moaned Ángel, helplessly clutching Oberon. It was the most intense sensation he’d ever experienced. The magical tingle of Oberon’s hand and cock on his, transformed into something so acutely pleasurable it was all Ángel could do to hang on.

“Such a hurry, Ángel,” murmured Oberon, his hand tight and hips rolling, his cock grinding against Ángel’s with a steady rhythm that sent high-voltage shocks through Ángel’s nervous system. “So impatient.” He tipped his head to one side and kissed Ángel, open-mouthed, a demanding, encompassing kiss, while Ángel’s body worked against him.

So impatient. It was embarrassing to be needier than the man who hadn’t had it in eight years, but Ángel could no more control himself than he could sing an aria. He spread his legs, braced his feet on the mattress, and writhed, gasping, his hips bucking.

“I— Oberon— I—I’m sorry, I—”

“Do it now.”

He came, crying out into Oberon’s mouth, creaming over Oberon’s hand, adding a slippery wetness to the friction, and it shook him so intensely he nearly passed out.

“Perfect.” Oberon’s voice was a groan. He flattened himself onto Ángel like a carpet, grinding their entire bodies together, his slender cock sandwiched between them. There was a hand on Ángel’s ass, lifting him, urging him to wrap his legs around Oberon’s hips. Ángel was still gulping for air, throbbing with his own orgasm, as Oberon’s pelvis revolved, rubbing his cock through the slickness that coated Ángel’s belly. Slow and hard. “Hold on to me, beloved,” Oberon whispered. “Oh, hold on.”

Then he stopped breathing, arched his body, went rigid. He was motionless for a long moment while heated, fragrant semen spurted out of him onto Ángel’s chest and belly.

Then Oberon gasped with a sob, tightened his grip around Ángel’s body, and, to Ángel’s astonishment, kept coming. For another endless breathless moment, fluid kept pulsing onto Ángel’s skin. Then he gasped and cried out again, and Ángel kept holding him tight, because he was somehow still coming.