A Heated Party’s Dangerous Secret Revealed

[Cornyoldfuck]

The bass from the party downstairs was a distant, thumping ghost, a dull heartbeat that vibrated through the floorboards of the upstairs bedroom. It was nothing compared to the frantic rhythm of my own heart, hammering against my ribs like it wanted to escape. Leo’s mouth was on mine, hungry and tasting of spiced rum and mint, and his hands were mapping the topography of my back under my thin shirt.

He broke the kiss, his breath hot against my cheek. “You sure about this?” he murmured, his voice a low gravel that vibrated straight through me. His eyes, dark and intense, searched mine.

I nodded, my own voice a shaky whisper. “Yes. God, yes. I’m sure.”

It was the truth. The attraction had been a live wire between us all night, a current that pulled me through the crowded rooms until we’d found ourselves tangled together on this borrowed bed. He was all lean muscle and confident smiles, an artist with ink winding up his arms, and I was utterly captivated.

His fingers found the button of my jeans, popping it open with a practiced ease that should have intimidated me but only fueled the fire licking through my veins. He peeled the denim down my hips, his knuckles grazing the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, and I shivered, a full-body tremor of anticipation. I helped him, kicking the jeans into the dimness of the room, leaving me in just my black lace panties. He looked his fill, his gaze heating my skin everywhere it touched.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he breathed, and the raw hunger in his tone made my knees weak.

He shed his own clothes with a grace that was mesmerizing, and then he was there, his body a warm, solid weight over mine. The hair on his chest brushed against my nipples, and I arched into the contact, a soft gasp escaping my lips. His mouth found my breast through the lace of my bra, his tongue a hot, wet pressure that had me clutching at his shoulders.

I was wet, embarrassingly so, the dampness soaking through the thin fabric of my panties. He seemed to know, his hand sliding down my stomach, his fingers hooking into the waistband. “Lift up for me, sweetheart,” he commanded softly, and I did, my hips rising to meet his touch.

The cool air of the room hit my bare skin for a second before his hand was there, his fingers stroking through my damp folds. I cried out, the sound muffled against his shoulder. He found my clit with an unerring accuracy, circling it with a slow, torturous pressure that made me writhe beneath him.

“Please,” I begged, the word torn from me. I wasn’t even sure what I was begging for. More. Everything.

He understood. He shifted above me, his body settling between my legs. I felt the blunt, insistent pressure of him against my entrance, a promise and a threat all at once. I was stretched thin, my nerves alight, every sense narrowed to this single point of contact.

“Easy now,” he soothed, his voice thick with his own desire. “Just relax. Let me in.”

He pushed, and the world fractured. It was a slow, inexorable invasion, a burning stretch that stole the air from my lungs. My eyes screwed shut, my nails digging into the hard muscle of his back. It was too much, it was everything. I could feel every single millimeter as he filled me, a relentless, perfect pressure that seemed to touch something deep inside my very core. A tear escaped from the corner of my eye, not from pain, but from the overwhelming, shocking fullness of it.

He stilled, buried to the hilt, his forehead resting against mine. We both panted, our breaths mingling. “Okay?” he asked, his voice strained.

I could only nod, my vocal cords useless. He began to move, a slow, shallow retreat followed by a deeper, more certain thrust. The initial burn melted away, replaced by a coiling heat that started low in my belly and spread outward with every rock of his hips. The sounds we made were obscene—skin slapping against skin, my ragged gasps, his low, guttural groans near my ear.

He shifted my leg, hooking it over his arm, and the angle changed. The next thrust hit a spot inside me that made me see stars. A broken cry was torn from my throat. “There! Oh god, right there!”

He smiled, a predatory, triumphant flash of white in the darkness, and focused his assault on that exact place. My entire world became the rhythm of his body, the smell of his sweat, the feel of his skin sliding against mine. The coil inside me wound tighter and tighter, a spring about to snap. I was babbling, pleading, my words a nonsensical stream of yes and more and don’t stop.

I could feel his own control fraying. His thrusts became harder, less measured, more desperate. His breathing hitched, and he buried his face in my neck, his body tensing above mine. He was close. So was I.

“I’m gonna… I can’t…” he groaned, the words a raw, hot blast against my skin.

His rhythm became frantic, a final, driving pace that pushed me over the edge first. My orgasm ripped through me, a silent, seismic shock that left me trembling, my inner muscles clenching around him in wave after wave of blinding pleasure.

It tipped him over. With a guttural, almost pained cry, he thrust deep, as deep as he could possibly go, and held himself there. I felt the hot, pulsing release flood into me, an intimate warmth that seemed to go on and on, the physical proof of his climax.

His body went limp on top of mine, heavy and spent. We were both slick with sweat, panting, trying to remember how to breathe. The distant music still thumped.

His mouth was at my ear, his voice a shattered, breathless whisper. “Fuck… that was… you have no idea…” He kissed my jaw, a soft, tender contrast to the animalistic frenzy of moments before. Then his voice dropped even lower, laced with something else. Something that made the warm, post-orgasmic haze in my head instantly clear. “…God, I hope the meds are working. My viral load is supposed to be undetectable, but after that… I just…”

The words didn’t compute at first. They were just sounds. Meds. Viral load. Undetectable.

Then my brain, sluggish with endorphins, assembled them.

The warmth inside me turned to ice.

My eyes, which had been closed in bliss, flew open. I stared at the unfamiliar ceiling, the pleasant weight of his body suddenly feeling like a prison. The pulse of the music from downstairs now felt like a death knell.

I went completely still. “What did you just say?”

[Cornyoldfuck]

 

Chapter 2

His breath was hot against my neck, a stark contrast to the cold dread solidifying in my stomach. My question—“What did you just say?”—hung in the air, unanswered, swallowed by the primal rhythm he was establishing.

“Shhh,” he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly vibration against my spine. His hands, warm and possessive, tightened on my hips. He didn’t withdraw. He pressed in deeper. “Just feel it.”

My mind was screaming, a frantic alarm bell clanging against the words viral load and medication, but my body, still humming from its own recent climax, betrayed me. A treacherous, involuntary pulse of pleasure answered the slow, deliberate drag of his cock as he pulled almost all the way out. The friction was exquisite, a familiar ache that my nerves remembered, craving a repeat of the shattering bliss I’d just experienced.

He rolled his hips forward, and I gasped as he filled me again, a smooth, steady invasion that stole the air from my lungs. God, he felt good. The thought was a traitor in my own head. He set a punishing, deep rhythm, each thrust a masterclass in finding the exact angle that made me see stars. The headboard began a soft, rhythmic tap-tap-tap against the wall, a metronome keeping time with our jarringly intimate collision.

His lean, muscular body covered mine, a cage of tattooed warmth. I could feel the defined ridges of his abdomen against the small of my back, the dampness of his skin glued to mine. One hand slid from my hip, skimming up my side before his fingers tangled in my hair, gently pulling my head back to expose my throat to his lips. His teeth grazed my shoulder, not hard, but with a possessiveness that made my core clench tightly around him. A broken sob caught in my throat, a confusing mix of panic and overwhelming sensation.

“That’s it,” he groaned, his voice thick with a pleasure I could feel radiating through his entire body. “Fuck, you take me so well. So perfect.” His words were a dark spell, weaving around the fear, muffling it beneath a rising tide of physical need. I was fracturing, my conscience at war with the raw, animalistic response he was eliciting from me. The music from the party below was just a dull throb now, secondary to the sounds of our bodies meeting, skin slapping against skin, our ragged breaths synchronizing.

His pace quickened, growing more urgent, more frantic. His grip on my hip was almost bruising, holding me in place as he drove into me with a singular, focused intensity. I could feel him swelling, hardening even more inside me, the sensation foreign and terrifying and so intensely erotic. My own resistance was melting, the icy fear in my gut now a pool of liquid heat, coiling tighter and tighter. I was arching my back, pressing myself against him, meeting his thrusts, a willing participant in my own ruin.

He buried his face in my neck, his breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps. “I’m… I’m gonna come,” he panted, the words slurred with the force of his impending release.

No. Wait. Stop. The words were a silent scream in my mind, trapped behind my teeth. My body was saying yes, yes, yes, a primal chant that overrode everything.

His thrusts became shallow, frantic jabs, losing their rhythm as he sought his peak. He held himself impossibly deep, and I felt the first hot, pulsing jet flood into me. A long, guttural groan was torn from his chest, a sound of pure, unadulterated release. And as he came, as his body shuddered through the climax, he spoke, his voice a raw, blissed-out whisper directly into my ear.

“God yes… fucking cumming… so deep… you feel that?” Another thick, hot pulse. “…and don’t worry… the meds… my viral load’s been undetectable for years…”

The world didn’t just stop; it shattered.

The warmth of his release inside me became a brand. A poison. The intimacy of the moment curdled into something vile and horrifying. The pleasure that had been cresting within me evaporated, replaced by a vacuum of pure, uncomprehending terror. My body went rigid beneath his weight.

He was still for a moment, panting, his weight a suffocating blanket. He softened inside me and slowly, reluctantly, slipped out. The sudden emptiness felt like a wound. He rolled onto his side next to me, running a hand over his sweaty chest with a satisfied sigh, completely oblivious to the internal cataclysm he’d just unleashed.

I lay frozen on my stomach, staring at the rumpled sheets, my mind shrieking. Undetectable. For years. The words echoed, each one a hammer blow. He’d known. He’d known the entire time. Through every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise of feeling good. He’d held this… this secret… while buried inside me.

The casual confidence I’d found so intoxicating now seemed like a monstrous deceit. The careful way he’d handled himself wasn’t just sexy; it was a meticulously maintained protocol for a life I knew nothing about.

He reached out, his fingers gently tracing a line down my spine. I flinched so hard it was a full-body spasm.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft, concerned now. “You okay?”

I slowly, painfully, pushed myself up onto my elbows. I couldn’t look at him. The room felt like it was tilting. I focused on a crack in the far wall, my voice barely a whisper, hoarse and fractured. “You’re… you’re positive?”

There was a beat of silence. I could feel him still beside me, the relaxed energy vanishing, replaced by a sudden, wary tension. “Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now, all the post-coital ease gone. “I… I thought you knew. The way we talked about being careful…”

I finally turned my head, my eyes wide with a betrayal so profound it felt like my insides were crumbling. “Knew?” The word was a choked sob. “You thought I knew? I thought you meant condoms! Leo… you… you came inside me…”

 

[austin_submale]

Good, but I think it may be in the wrong section since it seems to be an M-F story.