EWH 7

When Yang Moshou got pinned under Xu Wanhe, he reflexively covered his head with both arms to shield himself.

But the punch never came.

After a few seconds, Yang Moshou cautiously peeked out through the gap between his arms and saw Xu Wanhe staring at his waist in a daze. He immediately realized that the real weapon was his slim waist.

From all the pulling, his shirt had come untucked and ridden up, exposing his twisted waistline. It couldn’t have looked more inviting.

Xu Wanhe’s mind changed instantly.

He usually didn’t hit people he was about to sleep with. And if he did, it was with his lower body, pounding their ass.

Still riding the buzz from the alcohol, Xu Wanhe didn’t hold back. In just a few quick moves, he stripped off his own shirt, baring his upper body. He reached out, placed his hand on that small waist, then slid it down into the waistband and grabbed Yang Moshou’s ass, kneading it hard.

“So damn desperate for a fuck?”

Yang Moshou stared at his chest and inhaled. “Then why are you still talking?”

Xu Wanhe froze for a second. Then came a strange kind of anger. He yanked and ripped Yang Moshou’s pants clean off.

The button popped off, bounced across the floor, and hit the ground with a clatter.

Yang Moshou didn’t give a shit. He just reached out with both hands and started running them all over Xu Wanhe’s body.

That bronze skin burned hot under his palms. Solid muscle packed his arms and shoulders.

Yang Moshou’s eyes gleamed. His fingers traced the chiseled lines like he was worshiping a sculpture. This guy’s body was damn near perfect. Even the scars were hot. Rough. Sexy.

After stripping off Yang Moshou’s pants, Xu Wanhe was surprised to find the guy was already harder than he was.

Yang Moshou kept running his hands over Xu Wanhe’s chest, looking completely absorbed.

Xu Wanhe frowned, irritated by the endless fondling, and swatted at him.

“Quit the damn groping.”

Yang Moshou leaned right back in. “Your pecs are really something.”

Yang Moshou’s fingertips circled around a nipple, gently flicking it. “Mm… so soft…”

A jolt of heat shot straight up Xu Wanhe’s spine and slammed into his skull. He couldn’t even tell if it was from frustration or pleasure. Fueled by both, he yanked Yang Moshou off the couch and shoved him to the floor. Then he sat back down, legs spread wide, unzipped his pants, and pulled his cock out.

“Come here.”

Yang Moshou sat on the floor, staring dumbly at what was between Xu Wanhe’s legs.

“…That’s impressive…”

Fire surged in Xu Wanhe’s chest. He raised his foot and kicked him. “Hurry up. What the hell are you waiting for.”

Yang Moshou scrambled closer, took the hard cock in both hands, and gave it a slow rub. “It’s so hot…”

Xu Wanhe was breathing heavily, his voice low and rough. “Lick it. Now.”

Yang Moshou took the smooth, swollen tip into his mouth. He wasn’t exactly skilled, so he could only suck carefully with his lips, inching it deeper bit by bit down his throat.

Xu Wanhe let out a deep, stifled breath.

The stiff tip pushed into his throat, and soon, Yang Moshou’s saliva followed, dripping down and coating the entire shaft in slick, messy wetness.

Seeing how clumsy he was, Xu Wanhe grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled out slightly. “If you don’t have the skill, don’t deepthroat. Use your tongue. Suck with your mouth.”

Yang Moshou did exactly what he was told. He knelt in front of him, back arched and ass sticking out, working his mouth over the length of Xu Wanhe’s cock.

The pleasure grew thicker. Xu Wanhe leaned forward slightly, breath hot with alcohol brushing against Yang Moshou’s face.

“Tastes good, doesn’t it? Hm?”

Yang Moshou held the base with both hands, stroking while sucking. His mouth made muffled, wet sounds, and he let out a vague hum in reply.

“That’s enough. Go. Bend over the desk and stick your ass out.”

Yang Moshou suddenly remembered the lube. He reached toward the pants that had been stripped off him and started patting around. After a good minute of searching, all he found were two crumpled bills and nothing else.

Xu Wanhe had somehow found a condom, already rolling it on. He glanced down at Yang Moshou crawling around on the floor. “What the hell are you doing? Get over here.”

“…lube…”

Xu Wanhe scowled hard, turned around and rummaged through a drawer, then tossed over a small clear bottle.

“Put it on yourself.”

Yang Moshou took the lube, glanced around, then shot straight into the bathroom next door, leaving Xu Wanhe standing there, rock hard and dumbfounded.

Five minutes passed. Xu Wanhe finally lost his patience.

He kicked the door open and found the guy sitting on the toilet, legs spread wide, fingers shoved up his own ass, stretching himself open.

The moment Yang Moshou saw him, he looked startled. His fingers slipped out, and that little hole was still twitching open, not even closed yet.

Xu Wanhe’s eyes were bloodshot. With both arms, he grabbed him like a rabbit, lifted him off the toilet, stripped him bare, and slammed him onto the sink. He pried his legs open and shoved in.

Even with the lube and stretching, having it forced in so suddenly still left Yang Moshou aching, the pressure nearly unbearable.

Xu Wanhe watched him frown in pain and looked downright pleased.

“Aren’t you the little slut? Why don’t you look like you’re enjoying it now?”

Yang Moshou winced with discomfort and lifted his foot, pressing it against Xu Wanhe’s shoulder in an attempt to push him away.

“…It hurts… your technique fucking sucks…”

Xu Wanhe grabbed his ankle and slammed his hips forward even deeper.

“Fuck. Relax.”

Sweat started beading on Yang Moshou’s forehead.

“I’m gonna fucking tear…”

Xu Wanhe glanced down, reached between them, and ran his fingers along where they were joined. It was slick and warm, not a trace of blood, just a bit flushed. Seemed like nothing serious. He kept pushing in.

Yang Moshou wiped the sweat from his brow. That hard cock was driving deep, pushing up into his guts, like it was about to tear something open.

Once he was fully buried, Xu Wanhe looked up slightly.

“Relax a little. It’ll feel better that way.”

He even reached up and gently touched Yang Moshou’s head.

Yang Moshou’s eyes were shining, cheeks flushed, staring up at him like he couldn’t look away.

Xu Wanhe cursed awkwardly, grabbed him by the shoulder, and started thrusting in slow, deep strokes.

That thick cock slid in and out smoothly, rubbing against the inner walls. The friction made everything feel better and better.

After half an hour of nonstop fucking, Yang Moshou was trembling all over. His skin had flushed red, neck arched against the cold mirror. Before long, the glass fogged up with steam where his breath hit it.

Xu Wanhe’s breathing turned rougher as he pressed down harder, sweat dripping from his hairline and hitting Yang Moshou’s bare chest, drop by drop.

The sudden, savage thrusts started without warning. Their tangled breaths turned into heavy, nasal gasps, like an invisible wire tightening around their necks, choking out every thought. The room filled with the wet, relentless sounds of flesh slamming into flesh.

Xu Wanhe kept fucking him hard, then raised his head and stared down at Yang Moshou. His eyes were dark, like a predator locked on prey.

“Feels good, huh… filthy little slut…”

The fullness, the pressure, the heat all blurred into a wave of tingling pleasure. Yang Moshou could feel every drop of blood rushing straight to his cock.

“…So fucking good… husband… husband…”

Xu Wanhe was so startled he came right then and there.