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Five Finger Death Punch	By : mmarc56 Category: Celebrities - Misc > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1555 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not know Five Finger Death Punch or any of its members, this story is a work of fiction, and I made no money writing it.

Chapter List
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Chapter Thirteen: Making Love

They stripped off their clothing and took a moment to observe each other’s naked bodies. They had never seen each other like this before, so exposed, so vulnerable. They took in every inch of tattooed, muscular, hairy skin and their eyes naturally drifted downward the most important detail of their man. A smile quickly came to Ivan’s face when he noticed his trimmed pubic hair compared to his own unkept bush.

“You trim?” he asked.

“You don’t?”

“That’s for women. Men are allowed to let it grow.” He grinned and Chris cocked his jaw with a smile.

Chris’s arms were large and made the singer squirm in his skin. He wanted to be held by him and be touched by his calloused fingers. He stepped towards him and rested his fingertips on his waist. “Kiss me,” he whispered as he leaned in close to his face.

The bassist pressed his bearded mouth against his lips and they slowly moved their bodies closer together until they were skin-to-skin. Their intimacy had never been this intimate. They could hear their breathing and the sounds of their kiss. Each cell in their bodies was silently communicating with each other. The kissing and groping heated up until they were panting and Chris asked, “Are you ready?” The singer swallowed hard and then nodded.

He bent him over the bed, spread his ass cheeks, and pressed his thumb against his hole. The singer mumbled, “I swear to God if you’re not gentle…”

“Shh…”

The velvety feeling flooded back into the room and Ivan’s body slowly relaxed as the older man carefully stretched the entrance of his asshole. He had to trust Chris. It didn’t matter what their bandmates knew – or thought they knew: this night would be their secret, a secret he was one hundred percent sure the bassist would never breathe a word of. He trusted Chris. He was ready to get closer to him – become one with him.

The bassist’s hands slid up his back and his husky whisper brushed against his ear after he nipped it softly. “I’ll be gentle…”

Ivan’s whole body tingled, but the sensation was broken when Chris walked away to rummage through the night stand as if their spirits were spheres of energy that intermingled with each other when they were close, but disconnected when he stepped away. He removed a box of condoms and a tube of lubrication and the younger man’s heart fluttered nervously. This was happening…

He skimmed a hand across the surface of Ivan’s skin, making every hair follicle shiver, until his hand was cupping one of his flat ass cheeks. The singer looked over his shoulder and watched the other man open a condom and slip it over his long shaft and the magnitude of how large his manhood was hit him then. There was no way that thing would fit up his tight, virgin ass. Chris must have been reading his mind, because as he applied lube to his piece he said softly without looking at him, “Ready to lose your virginity a second time?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, unable to look away from his covered cock.

Chris applied some lube to his finger before setting the tube down and dabbed it on the younger man’s asshole, making sure to penetrate him with the tip of his finger as well and coat the inside. Ivan inhaled audibly and he smiled. “Shh…”

He lined his large, throbbing cock up with his tight hole and slowly started pushing it inside. Ivan let out a moan as only the tip was inside and then grimaced with pain as the rest followed as slowly as a funeral procession. “Ah-ah…” He whimpered to let the older man know he was in pain. “C—careful, please…”

“I’m being careful,” he assured him.

It felt like it had been sliding in for an eternity, so Ivan mumbled in uncomfortable pain, “Is it in yet?”

Chris chuckled lightly. “We’re getting there.”

“Oh my God.”

Ivan couldn’t take it anymore: it was too big. It was too thick; he could feel how unnaturally stretched his inexperienced asshole was around the solid erection. He had to give it up, he had to – but right as he decided to act on his misery Chris grabbed ahold of his hips and announce, “Alright, we’re in.”

“About time,” he murmured with relief.

“God, you’re so fucking tight…” he whispered and Ivan could hear the smile in his voice.

As he started to back out gently to begin thrusting himself deep inside of him, the singer winced and cried out, “Ah, fuck! Let me adjust! Just… just hold it there a second…” Every part of his ass twitched around the monstrous cock, especially the entrance to his hole which felt like it was burning. He could also feel the weird, foreign sensation of lube rimmed around his entrance and he grabbed onto the comforter as he said, “O—okay, gently, please… It hurts.”

He couldn’t stop himself from crying out more in pain and cursing even as Chris slowly thrust in and out of him. Chris continued to shush him until his whimpers of pain began to morph into moans of pleasure. The bassist followed the instructions of his sounds and picked up speed as he could hear he was adjusting, and soon he too was moaning with the pleasure of his cock throbbing so deep inside his lover.

He pressed his hips into the other man, balls deep inside of his sweet, chaste asshole, and spoke dirty to him. “Yeah, you like that?”

“Yeah.”

“You like that big cock inside your tight ass?”

“Fuck yeah…”

“Ah, it ain’t so bad, now is it?

Ivan lifted his head up and arched his back. “Oh God, fuck me…” he moaned, “Fuck me harder.” Chris obliged and moved his hips faster and harder into his ass and they both cried out with pleasure. Ivan’s whole body was buzzing. He had never felt this kind of pleasure before, not in all the years of experience he had nailing sluts backstage – he never even felt quite like this with any of his past girlfriends either. Chris’s cock was so big and so unbearably pleasurable and each jab to his prostate was like being sexually awoken for the first time each time. It was like every pulsing inch of it was made for the specific purpose of overwhelming his body with endorphins and dopamine.

He squirmed on the bed, unable to control himself, yet unsure of what to do with himself if he had been capable. Chris’s hands ran up his back again and he bent down and quickly pressed and wet, loving kiss onto his neck, which only caused his whole body to scream out, begging for release. The pressure was building up in his cock, but the dam wouldn’t break and release his semen onto the bed sheets.

“I—I need to cum,” he groaned, trying desperately to push himself back some off the bed so he could reach his dick, but Chris’s heavy thrusting continuously pushed him back into the mattress, and his attempts to move back only caused his prostate to get fucked harder. “C—Chris! I need to cum!” He cried hysterically.

Chris wrapped his arms underneath his chest, pulled him up, and continued to fuck him vertically as Ivan hastily grabbed hold of his throbbing dick. It was so hard it felt like it was going to split in half and the pain was unbearable, but Ivan let out an elongated cry he was unconscious of leaving his throat as a fountain of thick, creamy cum sprayed out of his penis all over himself and the bed. Chris stopped thrusting as Ivan fell apart in his grip, gasping for air, and laid him back down on the bed again. He then removed himself from his hole, causing the younger man to gasp, ripped off his rubber as fast as he could, and furiously jerked himself off with animalistic noises until his cum exploded from his dick all over the singer’s broad back. His whole body violently convulsed and he fell forward over Ivan, catching himself with his hands. He let his arms collapse beneath him, however, and dropped completely into his soaked backside.

They could’ve laid there for hours, but no matter how much they panted they couldn’t catch their breath: it had been taken away from them by the experience.

“You know, we didn’t do this like we originally planned,” Ivan eventually said.

“Hm?”

“Me on top,” he elaborated, “Riding you?”

“Oh yeah… Must’ve forgotten about it.”

“Got distracted,” he concurred.

Chris pushed himself up. “We can always do it that way next time,” he said.

Ivan rolled over and furrowed his eyebrows at him. “Oh, no we won’t.”

The bassist suddenly became fearful and froze where he was standing. “You didn’t like it?” He asked with hollow disbelief.

“What? No, I liked it—”

“Thought so.”

“—but next time you’re on bottom.”

Chris laughed, “Yeah…”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

Ivan stood up and touched the wetness on his back, then the wetness he accidently got on the bedsheets, and then he observed the wetness on Chris’s stomach. “We got cum everywhere,” he commented.

The older man looked at bed, the singer, and then himself. “Yeah, it’s fine. I’ll get a towel. He returned from the master bathroom shortly with a towel and wiped down his abdomen, and then prompted Ivan to turn around with a gentle touch on the shoulder and cleaned off his back as well. While he was turned around, he leaned in a left a tender kiss on the back of his neck and then patted his ass before returning the towel to the bathroom floor. “I’ll clean it up later,” he said as he walked around the bed. “You wanna lay down with me?”

Ivan felt very loved. He brushed his fingertips across the back of his neck where he felt the subtle mark of Chris’s mouth, and then nodded silently. He crawled under the covers with the other man and they met in the middle where they wrapped their arms around each other and snuggled with their hearts burning. Ivan returned the loving kiss by kissing the older man’s forehead and then pressed his lips into his beard when he looked up. They lightly kissed each other’s mouths and rubbed their partner’s sides until Chris turned over, flipped off the lights with a remote, and pulled Ivan onto his chest to cuddle. Ivan readjusted himself, however, so that they laid like the Cancer symbol, the most incredibly comfortable way for them to snuggle, nuzzled his face against his beard of dreadlocks, and laid his arm across his chest.
He wanted to tell him something personal, something that can’t be taken back – three words that meant a thousand – but he couldn’t do it.
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Five Finger Death Punch