Lunch Break

Erotic short. Two coworkers run to their car for a quickie.

600w, rated E, cis M/M. Two coworkers run for a quickie on their lunch break — car sex, safe sex, silly teasing sex.

Abe stumbles as he rushes ahead of Dane toward the car, fumbling with his keys, and he can hear Dane laughing as he rushes to catch up, his footsteps audible on the wet tarmac. They’ve got, what, 25 minutes, if that? Lunch is forty-five, and it’s a five-minute walk to the sandwich shop around the corner — if after they’re done Abe orders on his phone, by the time they’re there it’ll be done, and they eat them on the way back —

“Come on, come on,” groans Dane behind him, and Abe laughs as he unlocks and then pulls open the door, shoving back the front seat and falling inside. The car is parked in the alley, so it’s dark and in shadow and just a little bit cool, but Abe still undoes his jeans as quickly as he can and shoves them down, wishes he’d worn his fucking slip-ons this morning instead of his laced brogues because it’s so much more awkward to get his jeans off. “Yeah? Yeah? You fucking want it?”

“Yeah, I fucking want it, dickhead, we both want it,” hisses Abe, shoving down his boxers, and Dane grins down at him as he pulls the door closed behind him, falls on top of Abe, and fuck, fuck, he wishes he’d put the seats down, he wishes he had a bigger car, but he only concentrates on that thought for a moment before he arches up into the perfect kiss of Abe’s lips against his neck, his breath hot on Abe’s throat.

He grabs at Dane’s cock through his slacks and his whole body shudders when Dane moans from low in his throat, grinding his hips down into Abe’s palm. He’s already hard, is as ready and wanting as Abe is, and Abe hurries to unbutton his trousers, shove them and his boxers down to Dane’s thighs.

He nearly falls off the car seats grabbing a condom out of Dane’s jacket, and Dane laughs at him and in the meantime leans down and slides their cocks together, and Abe whimpers at the sudden, startling friction, feeling his back arch.

“You need a promotion,” says Abe.

“For this?” asks Dane.

Abe laughs, shoving his knee into Dane’s thigh. “So we can get a bigger car.”

“Fuck a car,” says Dane. “Let’s get one of them hippie vans, put a bed in the back.”

Abe is being kissed before he can say exactly what he thinks about that, and he pinches the well on the condom and fells for Dane’s cock without looking, gasping into Dane’s mouth as Dane does something ridiculous with his tongue that makes tingles run all the way around Dane’s mouth, make his head and his body feel physically hot. He rolls the condom down and squeezes the base of Dane’s cock, and Dane grunts, grinding himself into Abe’s fist, thrusting into it.

“Come on,” Abe grunts against his mouth, curling his fingers up and into Dane’s hair with his other hand, his legs spreading as wide as they can, and it’s awkward, his knee shoved against the back of the front seat, but it doesn’t matter because Dane is lining himself up and sinking himself in.

It’s a slow, perfect slide, and Abe all but fucking howls at the feeling of it, the sublime stretch and the warmth and the sense of fullness, the way Dane sinks in and they’re locked together and Abe sighs. His head tips back just slightly, body relaxing, and Dane nips at his neck.

“I set a timer on my phone,” says Dane. “Twenty minutes, then five minutes so we know when we absolutely have to go.”

“Oh, my God, babe, let’s get married,” says Abe, and Dane laughs into his mouth as he starts to thrust.