Indie Boy - Third Time Lucky.

We chat in a bar about films we both like and music we both like and life ideals. We walk to your car so you can collect your bag, I think.

You push my against the door of the car, cold and damp. You snap my wrists to my sides and you kiss me forcefully. I squirm and kiss you back, you tell me to get in the car and I hesitate. You put your hand tightly to my throat and you tell me again. I fumble to open the door with my clamped hand, you let me move out of the way before you open the door yourself and bundle me into the back seat.

We kiss, I fight you, you bite me, I play along. You wriggle out of your jeans, I do the same. I watch your cock bounce into its erect state. I put it in my mouth. I suck it then I sit on your lap, I rock and rub and fuck you, you fingers yanking my hair and holding my face like a doll. Then you pull out and come across my clothes. I chastise you playfully. I hate doing the washing more than once a week.

We kiss placidly. I stroke you, you harden again. I go down on you, lick and suck and spit for longer. I am spectacular, you are in awe, your eyes are watching me. You come again, all over my mouth and my neck.

We kiss for longer this time, you pull me onto my back by my legs and start to run your fingers against me, Im squirming and begging, I'm sodden and wet. You push your fingers inside me, I stroke your thighs. You tell me not to hope that you're going to get it up again. I say I don't care, but I know you're going to. You do. I make you wear a condom this time, we fuck forcefully, my hand behind my head to stop me cracking the glass of the side window. We both come, hard against each other. Three times? You're a very lucky boy.