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Bdubs fought to get his mossy hoodie off, half tangled in the thing, much to Etho’s amusement (if his snickers were anything to go by).
Finally, he managed to pull the damn thing off. He threw it on the floor— that would be a problem for future Bdubs— and flopped onto the bed, straddling Etho. He leaned on his elbows, their noses mere inches apart. “Hey, fancy seeing you here, handsome.”
Etho chuckled.
Bdubs sat back up, stretching his arms over his head with a satisfying crack . “So, what’re we feeling today? I wanna top. You want it in your front hole, back hole, mouth…?”
“I was actually thinking we could try something a little different?”
Bdubs could tell Etho was blushing something fierce, even if he had yet to take off his mask. “Ooooo, okay!” Bdubs wiggled his hips. “You come across a new kink or somethin’?”
“...Not exactly.” Etho took a deep breath, looking not-quite-at Bdubs. “I was wondering if we could do something involving my chest.”
And that caught Bdubs off guard more than almost anything Etho had ever said to him.
He tilted his head. In the decade or so that Etho and he had been fooling around in the bedroom, they’d tried a lot of things. A lot of things. Kinky motherfuckers, they were. But the one thing that had always been firmly off the table was Etho’s chest.
Etho’s dysphoria ranged from day to day; sometimes he was fine topless and sometimes Bdubs so much as accidentally grazing within a few inches of his chest meant that sex was off for the day. Bdubs’ was happy with whatever. The only boundary he’d set was that they wouldn’t do anything more than fingering when Etho had his binder on— after an unfortunate incident a few years ago that involved Bdubs getting railed , a punctured lung, and a very awkward late-night visit to Doc. But even on Etho’s best days, his breasts were always to be ignored during sex.
“Explain?”
“Well… since I’m getting top surgery in a few months…”
And wasn’t that exciting? Sometimes Bdubs thought he was more excited about it than Etho himself, though that was a tall order. He was excited that Etho was finally facing his fear of having someone else operate on him, and his fear of being unconscious for a procedure, and his fear of being vulnerable during recovery, and... some other fears, probably. He was excited that Etho would finally get to be comfortable in his body. He was excited to kiss every single inch of his scars.
He tried to zone back into what Etho was saying.
“...So it’s kind of now or never? I don’t know how much sensation I’ll have there after, and it’s not like there’s a ton you can do with a flat chest, anyway.”
Ah, Bdubs got it now.
“Honey, schnookums, baby.” He put a hand on Etho’s cheek. “You don’t need to worry about missing out on something. Your chest makes you dysphoric. That’s okay. We don’t need to do anything that will make you uncomfortable.”
“I know, I know.” Etho put his hand up, covering Bdubs’. “But I want to. I want to know what it’s like.”
Bdubs squinted at him, considering. “Okay.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, if that’s what you want, baby. I’ll give you anything you want.”
Etho propped himself up on his elbows to pull off his undershirt and binder, forcing Bdubs to lean back.
Bdubs took in what he was working with.
And, yeah, it wasn’t like Bdubs didn’t know what Etho’s chest looked like. They’d been together for a decade for goodness sake! But he’d always made an effort to not look too much, for Etho’s sake. Now he had consent to be lustful about it.
His breasts were on the larger side, in comparison to Etho's thin frame, at least— a large C-cup, maybe? Bdubs didn’t know bra sizing, and he knew Etho didn’t either. Bdubs was inclined to compare them to fruit, as cliché and weird as that was. They were each the size of a smallish grapefruit, in his very professional opinion. The left one was slightly bigger than the right— just enough to notice when one was staring at them as intently as Bdubs was. They sagged to the side into Etho’s armpits in a way that would probably make a teenage boy who had only seen breasts in trashy magazines barf. Thus was the result of decades of binding (often with less-than-safe methods) and decades of gravity .
The top half of them were streaked with stretch marks from puberty, faded with time but nevertheless there. A few of the marks were more recent, a pleasant light pink, and were probably Bdubs' fault. Sue him for wanting to make sure that Etho was eating enough and being taken care of properly !
His nipples weren’t pert, yet. His areolae were wide and the same color as his lips (both down there and on his face).
Bdubs thought that they were the most perfect pair of tits in existence.
Which, speaking of the word tits…
“What do we call ‘em?” he asked.
Etho shrugged. “Chest or breasts are fine. It’s what they are.”
That wasn’t surprising; Etho had never cared much about terminologies’ traditional feminine/masculine association. If he didn’t care whether Bdubs called it his clit or his dick, or his vag or his front hole, it tracked that he wouldn’t care much about this either.
“Not boobs, though.” Etho scrunched his nose, only visible by the way his mask hitched upwards. “Sounds weird.”
“How about tits?”
Etho considered. “Fine, in moderation.”
“Gotcha.” He smirked, before saying, “How about chestacles —”
“I would like to remind you that it is never too late for me to break up with you.”
He laughed. “Do you have anything in particular in mind?”
“Not really. Figured you’d have some ideas.”
“Oh, baby , do I.”
Etho chuckled. “You don’t have to look so hungry.”
“Shutup! I’m thinking of super sexy ideas.”
“Did you just lick your lips —?”
Bdubs put his hand over Etho’s mouth, not that that did much when he was already wearing a mask. “Can I touch?”
“Go for it,” Etho said, muffled.
Bdubs’ dick was hardening just at the permission.
He would have died happy never having touched Etho’s chest. He knew how much their mere existence bothered his love. But he would be lying if he tried to claim that he hadn’t thought about it. A man was allowed to dream!
Bdubs started slow, running his thumbs along where breast tissue met ribs.
Etho shuddered.
He stopped, suddenly serious. “If you change your mind about this at any point, you better tell me.”
“Yeah.” He sounded breathless.
“Take off your mask?” requested Bdubs.
Etho nodded and did so. Bdubs wanted to be able to search his expression for signs of discomfort.
He moved upward, running his fingers along the bottom and sides of Etho’s breasts with almost clinical analysis. He traced the stretch marks that adorned the top.
“I know we’ve never done anything together, but have you…?”
Etho shook his head. “Not really. I mostly just like to ignore that they exist, ya know?”
“Hmm.”
Bdubs chose that moment to shift from stroking to groping.
Etho made a little whimper-like noise that would have had Cleo teasing him for weeks if they were there to hear it. Bdubs glanced up, ready to stop, and instead found that Etho looked somewhat blissed out, eyelids fluttering. He had slipped a hand into his boxers, probably playing with his clit, if Bdubs had to guess.
An idea formed in the back of Bdubs’ head and immediately wormed its way into his thoughts in a way he knew meant he’d masturbate while fantasizing about it later if they didn’t end up doing it.
He almost didn’t bring it up. It would be a little extreme to go from having never touched Etho’s breasts to that .
But, well, Etho had asked to experience sex involving his chest. It wasn’t as though they had a lot of time to build up to it. Worst case scenario, Etho would say no.
“Can I fuck your chest?”
Etho chuckled in what Bdubs assumed was surprise. “What?”
“Can I fuck your tits?”
“I—” His cheeks grew faintly red. “What would that even look like?”
“ Well , they’re definitely big enough that if we—” He noticed Etho wince. “What?”
“Don’t talk about how big they are. Please.”
And whoops , Bdubs definitely should have thought that one through. “Sorry!”
“It’s fine. Continue?”
“...I’m just sayin’ that if we held ‘em like this —” He demonstrated, smushing them together at the center of Etho’s chest. “—I could fuck ‘em. You could hold them in place, or if you don’t want to touch them we could probably cobble up something that could hold them, or with some funky positioning I might be able to…”
“I’ll hold them,” Etho interrupted.
Bdubs smirked at how wrecked his voice sounded. They hadn’t even done anything yet! “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I want to try.”
Bdubs leaned forward and kissed him roughly. “Oh, baby , let’s make some magic.”
…
Fucking Etho’s chest was an interesting experience.
It was nothing like having his dick in Etho’s front hole, back hole, or mouth. It was drier, for one. They’d opted not to use lube, seeing as Bdubs already had a decent amount of pre-cum going on, and it wasn’t as though there was any stretching taking place. It was chilly, too, in comparison to being truly inside his partner. It wasn’t like anywhere Bdubs had stuck his schlong, really.
His dick was just long enough that he could hit Etho’s sternum when he thrust all the way in.
It was strange, but good. The friction, combined with the fact that Etho’s thumbs brushed his balls when he got deep enough from where they were holding his tits together, combined with the little noises Etho was making were enough to have him teetering on the edge after a few minutes.
And weren’t those noises from Etho heavenly ? They were his sign that he was doing well— that Etho was okay. Bdubs was watching his face carefully, but there was only so much he could see from the position they were in (Bdubs’ knees planted even with Etho’s elbows, making his head several feet farther up the mattress than Etho’s).
“‘M close,” he muttered. “Can I cum on your chest?”
Etho responded with something that wasn’t quite coherent but was clearly affirmative. They’d been together for long enough for Bdubs to know his good noises from his bad ones.
His vision went white around the edges as his orgasm rocked through him, spraying cum across Etho’s chest, before going limp on the mattress, purposefully falling to his side so as not to crush Etho.
He scooted down so that their heads were level. “Hey, handsome.” He cringed at how slurred his voice sounded. He tangled their fingers together. “Was that good?”
“Yes.” Etho squeezed his hand. “Thank you for indulging me.”
Bdubs scoffed. “Are you kidding? Thank you for indulging me!” He snuggled into his side. “Did you cum?”
“Uh… no. Not because it was bad,” Etho rushed to explain, “But, you know I need something touching me down there, and my hands were a bit occupied.”
“Do you want to? A bit of a round two?”
“If you don’t mind? I can jerk myself off, too.”
“I would love to. Let me please you, darlin’.” He rubbed his legs together. He was still oversensitive down there, but he could probably get hard again in a few minutes if he tried. “You still want something involving your chest?”
“Uhh, I don’t know what we would do. You’ve already fondled and fucked them…”
“Oh, Etho, Etho, Etho . We’ve barely scratched the surface of possibilities, my love.” He studied Etho’s chest. He wanted to like the cum off of it.
And that idea naturally led to…
“Can I suck ‘em?”
Etho threw his head back. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“I should hope so! No one is allowed to murder you but me,” he said. “Is that a no?”
“No, just…” Etho paused. “Yes, you can, but don’t make any comments about, like, milk, or motherhood, or anything like that.”
Bdubs nodded firmly. “Gotcha! Just a man sucking another man’s tit, nothin’ feminine about it. I’ll fuck you through it?”
…
Etho’s breasts were Bdubs’ favorite thing in the world, he’d decided.
He used to say it was sleeping, or clocks, or Etho’s pussy, but no— it was definitely Etho’s chest.
He slammed himself balls-deep into Etho’s front hole as he bit down on the man’s left nipple, and Etho moaned .
“Ah, okay, that’s… Wow. Okay. Oh, snap , that’s—” Etho was cut off when Bdubs pulled partially out and slammed in again, purposefully battering Etho’s E-spot.
(The ‘proper’ term was G-spot, but Etho refused to call it that after learning it was named after a cis man who “discovered” it in the 1980s . Bdubs thought it was funny to pretend it was named after Etho instead, so, E-spot.)
Etho wasn’t loud in bed, but he did the Etho equivalent of screaming, which was throwing his head back and biting his lip with a small hiss.
Bdubs had another idea, because he was a horny motherfucker and because he’d had more than a decade to think of what he would theoretically do with Etho’s chest, given the opportunity. He knew that Etho could definitely cum like this, but what was the harm in pushing it a little further? He just had to be careful to phrase it in a way that didn’t mention the size of Etho’s breasts.
He pulled his face up for air, panting, though he continued to rock his hips. “Do you wanna suck?” he asked.
“What?”
“I think if you held it up and tilted your chin on you could latch on. I could suck one and you could suck the other.”
Etho’s brow creased. “Are… are they really big enough for that?”
See, that was the exact line of thinking that Bdubs had been trying to avoid .
He paused moving his hips and put a hand to Etho’s cheek, drawing his gaze away from where he’d been staring at his bare chest. “Hey, hey, hey. You don’t gotta. I was just spitballin’.”
Etho was still for a long, long moment. Bdubs let him think, though he kept his hand on his cheek, tilting his face upwards so that he couldn’t see his chest.
Then, with a suddenness that only Etho could manage, the man used both hands to bring his right breast up. He kept his mouth closed, but his nipple rested just in front of his lips.
(Bdubs had been right that they were big enough— almost the perfect size for it, actually.)
And, look, Etho and Bdubs had tried a lot of things in bed. This was not the most extreme thing they’d done by a fucking long shot . They were both familiar with pushing through discomfort and pain for the sake of pleasure. Etho knew his limits, and Bdubs knew Etho knew his limits. But something about the look on Etho’s face in that moment made him think he should call the whole thing off, anyway.
But before he could say anything, Etho had parted his lips and started sucking.
Bdubs watched, entranced. Etho wasn’t doing the same thing that he had been— focusing mostly on the nipple with small sucks and bites. Instead, he seemed to be trying to take as much of his breast into his mouth as possible, the same that one might do with a dick. His chin was flush with his neck, eyes closed, as he tried to open his jaw wider to fit in even more tissue, his cheeks puffing out in the process.
Maybe nipple play didn’t do the same things to Etho that it did to Bdubs. Good to know.
Bdubs took Etho’s hearty moan as a cue and started giving Etho’s left tit the same treatment that Etho was giving his right, swallowing it down as if he were a starving man. He could taste his own cum on it from earlier.
He was so distracted by that that he had honestly kind of forgotten that he was also inside Etho down there.
So when Etho came, walls clenching and then fluttering around Bdubs’ dick, it caught him so off-guard that it sent him following right over the edge (which he had not been expecting— he hadn’t had too much trouble getting hard again after his first orgasm but orgasming again was a whole different deal).
Etho let his breast drop from his mouth, and Bdubs followed suit.
His heart stuttered at the sight of Etho’s breasts bouncing back into Etho’s chest, before falling to the sides, the impact causing them to wobble , something akin to water balloons that had been thrown with almost-but-not-quite-enough force to break. He doubted Etho would appreciate that comparison, so he kept his mouth shut (not that he thought he could form coherent words right now, anyway).
He pulled out of Etho with a hiss and flopped onto his back beside him.
After recovering his breath, Bdubs reached out and gently took Etho’s hand.
“How we feeling, sweetheart?”
Etho’s answer came a stilted few seconds too late and an octave too high to be convincing. “ Fine .”
“Want me to grab your mask?” It was a fair assumption, considering that Etho was using the hand that wasn’t gripping Bdubs’ to cover the lower half of his face.
Etho nodded and Bdubs gave his hand one last squeeze before getting up to get one of the many spare masks he kept in a drawer by the bed; Etho was always losing them in Bdubs’ base. He handed it to Etho and purposefully looked away as he put it on.
“What else can I get you?” asked Bdubs. “Water? Food? Heating pad? Bath?” Bdubs was, admittedly, unusually the one receiving aftercare, not giving it, and some of his partners claimed he was ‘needy’ or something like that. But he prided himself on being the absolute best at providing aftercare when it was necessary! And while Bdubs didn’t think he’d be sore the next morning from this, Etho almost certainly would be. Bdubs had never had his tits sucked (mostly because, well, didn’t have tits to suck, otherwise he totally would have tried it) but he was pretty sure that they wouldn’t feel great after having been abused like that.
“Binder,” said Etho.
Bdubs frowned and glanced back at him. “I can get it if you really want it, but your chest is covered in cum and saliva, so…”
Etho had moved his arms to cover his chest. “Don’t care. I’ll wash it later.”
Bdubs highly doubted that, but he didn’t argue.
He stayed turned away while Etho put on the binder, before asking, “Vest, too?” Because if there was one thing Bdubs knew about Etho’s dysphoria, it was that layers almost always helped.
“Yeah.” Stars, he sounded ravaged . “Boxers and packer too.”
Bdubs was glad that Etho couldn’t see his concerned expression. If his dysphoria was bad down there too, then it was bad .
He gathered the items and handed them off before crawling back into bed beside Etho, pulling the sheets up in hopes that that would help. He left a few inches in between their bodies.
Etho had his eyes closed, body as stiff as a board, and was breathing slow, controlled breaths. Bdubs started humming softly.
Eventually, Etho opened his eyes and tilted his head over toward Bdubs.
Bdubs put on his best smile. “Okay?”
“Yeah. Okay.” He took Bdubs’ hand again, fiddling with his fingers. “Dysphoria wasn’t even that bad during, just after. During was good.”
Bdubs breathed a sigh of relief. “Yeah?”
Etho nodded. “Very good. Great, even.” He let his head fall backward. “Even if my nipples hurt like hell now.”
Teasingly, Bdubs asked, “Great enough for you to not chop ‘em off?”
Etho laughed and it was Bdubs’ favorite sound. “Oh, you wish .”
(Bdubs didn’t wish, not at all, really, as much as he would love to suck on Etho’s breasts until the end of time.)
“But,” whispered Etho, “I mean, we’ve got a few months before my surgery. Maybe we could… do that again?”
Bdubs kissed him and it didn’t even matter that his mask kept their lips from touching. “Anything you want, my love. Just say the word.”
Etho took off his mask to kiss him back, and all was right in the world.
[End.]