22. Exercise

Although Reese’s manhood was not as thick as Finch’s own, it was still significantly thicker than the toothbrush case, so the fit was tight. He pressed into Finch very carefully, waiting for the other man to breathe and release the discomfort of the intrusion before plunging in deeper. He was now holding Finch’s legs in his arms, one knee over each elbow, so he could have an unobstructed view of his partner’s face. He wanted to catch any grimace or sign that the pain was more than Finch could bear; however, Finch was accustomed to far worse pain, and continued to inhale and exhale deep breaths until Reese’s long organ was buried to the hilt.

“Harold… so tight, and hot,” Reese murmured, flushed with the excitement of finally being inside of his lover. “You’re so… perfect!

“You really think so?” Finch asked, his voice a mere whisper.

“I know so,” Reese assured him as he bent forward, casting his shadow on the other man’s chest, already soiled with his own ejaculate. “You’re the most perfect partner for me, Harold… in so many ways…”

“I’m so glad… I found you,” Finch murmured, still lost in a sort of haze. “There were others that I’d considered, but… I knew you were the one…”

“How did you know?” Reese prodded him, curious to find out but also giving him a chance to adjust to being penetrated.

“When I saw the footage from the subway – when you took on those young gangsters,” Finch explained, “you could have killed that last boy with your bare hands. I knew what you were capable of doing, from your file, and I thought you were going to do it… He’d provoked you, after all! But you didn’t. You stopped yourself. You had to be stone drunk (I saw how much of that bottle you’d consumed, Mr. Reese) but you still caught yourself in time, and didn’t kill him. That’s when I knew… you were the man for the job. That you might have been trained to be a killer, but that wasn’t who you were, inside… You just wanted to help people.”

Reese had to take several steadying breaths himself, now, as he realized what Finch had seen in him, even when he had been acting (or so he’d thought) like a madman. Finch had understood, in spite of the violence that had erupted from him, that he had only reacted that way due to his training – that the violence did not define him. He felt a wave of gratitude wash over him anew, and was struck with the irrepressible desire to kiss the man underneath him, skewered on his throbbing member.

“Harold… can you spread your legs? I don’t want to force you…”

“I can go this far without a problem… does that help?”

Reese leaned forward, his long torso stretching over Finch’s as his male appendage was wedged even further into him, and found he could reach Finch’s lips with his own. The kiss they shared was warm and tender, filled with affection and just a hint of need. It roused Finch from his reverie to realize, with a start, that their bodies were already connected; not only that, but he actually liked feeling Reese lodged within him. He could feel the other man’s pulse through their melded organs, which (without even being sexual) gave him a sense of intimacy.

“John,” he called, when their lips finally parted. “John… I… I’m so glad…”

“Me, too,” Reese said full-heartedly, his hands caressing Finch’s thighs as they held them aloft. “I’m so glad you chose me…”

He pulled his manhood out an inch before sliding it back in. Finch gasped at the movement, his legs drawing together automatically, but he only drew Reese that much closer to himself. His hands had wandered to Reese’s shoulders as they’d kissed, and he now grasped them, needing a handhold for what he knew was about to come.

“John, don’t hold back,” he said, forcing himself to relax and let his legs fall apart. “I can take it. Do what you want to do… I want you to… ravish me…” He blushed furiously at his last words, but got them out.

“I will, Harold… Just promise to tell me… if it gets to be… too much,” Reese said, repeating his previous movement. His back arched from the deliciousness of the sensation as his male member was stimulated by Finch’s heat and tightness. He drew out almost his entire length before thrusting it back in, reveling in how the ring at the entrance pushed against his loose skin. “Oh, god, Harold,” he moaned, “so tight! So… wonderful!

Finch’s breath hitched when Reese plunged deep into him again. “John… oh, John…” he repeated, like a mantra, as the other man’s movements gradually grew faster. “John…!”

“Harold… my Harold…” Reese panted, nearly losing himself in the pleasure. However, he remembered to put his organ to good use – it was slightly curved, which made it easier to rub the tip against the sweet spot inside of his partner. When he hit his target, Finch cried out and gripped him even tighter – with both of his hands and his interior tunnel – and flailed helplessly on the bed.

Oh! John… what…? Oh!” he mumbled, unable to string together a coherent sentence.

“Does it feel good, Harold? Do you like it when I touch you… here?” Reese demanded.

YES! Oh, god, yes… Yes! Oh, John… Yes! Ahh… YES! Mmph… YES! Oh, yes! YES!

With each thrust, Finch’s manhood grew harder, despite having been emptied so recently. It even began to leak as Reese continued to engage him in the dance of sex, stroking his prostate with every forward and backward motion, until it reached its full potential – touching his own stomach to leave sticky threads of fluid between them as it bobbed in time to Reese’s thrusts. But there were no hands available to relieve it, for Finch’s were still on Reese’s shoulders, digging into the muscle there, and Reese’s were planted on the bed on either side of Finch as he used the leverage to probe ever deeper inside of his lover.

“Oh, Harold… Finch… so good… so… fucking… good!” Reese breathed, unable to stop himself from moving faster as the sensations assaulting him drove him up the ladder of ecstasy.

“Yes… good… John… so good… oh, god… Ahh! Yes! Yes! YES! YES! AAAUUUGGGHHH!

With a caterwaul which neither man knew he was capable of, Finch came first, trembling and shaking as he spilled his seed once more. The seizure-like spasm of his body caused a chain reaction, for it squeezed Reese’s cock in a paroxysm of sensual satisfaction as well.

“Ungh! Oh! Harold! Good… oh, god… so good! Ah! Ahh! Yeah! AHH! AHHH! AHHHHH! AAAUUUGGGHHH!

The force of his release caught even Reese by surprise – it had been too many years since the last time he had come so hard. He continued to push into Finch, his hips moving involuntarily, as though they were cut off from his brain and still twitching from the residual impulses. His hot fluid had filled Finch to overflowing and was now being pumped out (in small amounts) by his own frantic movements. Still, it was intensely gratifying to feel and hear the viscous substance squishing and slurping at the point of their union – a much wetter sound than the lubricant alone.

“Oh… Harold… my darling, sweet Harold,” Reese gasped, crouching over him to kiss his chest, then working up his neck, his male member lodged inside of him but finally slowing down. “That was so… amazing!

“It was…” Finch agreed, almost shell-shocked. His mind was just now processing that he had come with no external stimulation whatsoever – only Reese’s cock stroking him from the inside. “I didn’t expect… well… I didn’t know what to expect,” he admitted.

“What didn’t you expect?” Reese smiled, peering into his face.

“I didn’t expect it would be… so pleasurable,” he said frankly. “I thought it would hurt more.”

“I’m glad it exceeded your expectations. Does this mean you’ll be willing to… do it again?”

“Most definitely,” Finch told him, reaching around Reese to pull him down into another kiss.

“Mmm… Harold?”

“Yes, John?”

“I’m sorry… I forgot again.”

“Forgot… what?”

“To use the condoms.”

“Oh… But they were only props, John. I never intended you to use them.”

“Okay.” Reese grinned and kissed him teasingly. “I’m glad… I like it when you’re… squishy.”

Finch blushed a deep crimson as Reese punctuated his statement with another thrust, eliciting a “squishy” sound from their nether regions. The amount of fluid he could feel inside his well-initiated tunnel was substantial. Before he could respond, however, he was startled by Reese moving down his chest with his lips and tongue, lapping up the residue from Finch’s own two climaxes.

“Mr. Reese!” he exclaimed without thinking. “You’re not… not…”

“Consuming your come? Swallowing your semen? Ingesting your ejaculations?” Reese returned matter-of-factly. “That’s exactly what I’m doing… I love every bit of you, Harold, and this is no exception. Just let me clean you off before we go enjoy that bubble bath… Thank goodness there’s an overflow drain, or we would’ve flooded the entire floor by now!”

Finch lay in submissive repose, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Reese – the Reese, secret agent extraordinaire, who could stop a speeding car with a single gunshot without ever missing – was licking the sticky evidence of his orgasm off of his stomach. Their bodies were no longer connected by Reese’s now-flaccid member, but the same wet, “squishy” noises were emanating from the handsome man’s lips. Finch swallowed hard, not sure he would ever get used to it. But he did hope (and anticipate) that Reese would continue to treat him with this sort of tenderness and love. In fact, he was quite sure that he would not be able to live without it, now that he had experienced it.

“How are your injuries?” Reese asked solicitously, bringing Finch back to the here and now.

“Fine. They hardly hurt at all,” he answered as he sat up with Reese’s help. “Probably because I’m feeling so… well…” He blushed again. “I’m feeling quite relaxed and… sated, at the moment.”

“It’s amazing what sex can do,” Reese deadpanned. “You should try it more often.”

“I suppose it’s a form of exercise, isn’t it?” Finch retorted, equally blandly.

“The best!” Reese asserted.

The bubble bath had, of course, been running into the overflow drain for some time, so that most of the bubble-making solution had been washed away, but Finch declined Reese’s offer to add more.

“I don’t need bubbles to enjoy a nice soak,” he insisted. Reese helped him into the deep tub and turned on the Jacuzzi jets. “Ahh! That does feel good.”

“I’ll be right back,” Reese said before stepping out to the bedroom, returning with the box of condoms in his hand.

“What on earth are you plotting to do with them?” Finch asked.

“Bath toys,” he declared with aplomb. “Did you know you can make balloon animals with these?”

“You are a man of many talents, Mr. Reese,” Finch remarked dryly.

With a smirk, Reese opened up one packet, blew the rubber full of air, and tied the end in a knot.

“Can you guess what this animal is?”

“I don’t know… a worm? A caterpillar?”

“A sperm whale,” Reese informed him, dunking it into the water like a submarine. Finch started to laugh, helplessly, as the ridiculousness of the joke hit him. He was soon surprised, though, when Reese created a passably good rabbit out of a few more.

“You know what rabbits are like,” he noted with mock seriousness. “If this one weren’t made entirely of rubber, we’d have an infestation on our hands in no time.”

“God forbid,” Finch said with equal fervor.

Reese set his creation on the edge of the tub and regarded his employer, partner, and lover with a contented smile.

“Have you ever thought about getting contacts, Harold?” he began without preamble.

“Ah… no, not really… Why do you ask?” Finch asked, glancing at his glasses on the ledge.

“Just wondering… You look different without them, you know – much younger.”


“But you also look younger when you smile… You have a beautiful smile, Harold. I’d like to see it more often.”

Finch gaped at Reese for a moment before clearing his throat and responding, “I suppose… I could work on that…”

“I’ll help when I can,” Reese offered, leaning in to claim another kiss.


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