I want to know how good it could be.
So I kiss him. A hand grips the back of his neck, pleading him to stay with me. To keep kissing me. His hand lands at my thigh, and with every squeeze I fight not to buck up into the air,wishing he was in my lap. And we don’t stop until we’re struggling for breath and our lips are wet and reddened.
He looks so good like that, his smile, that hunger back in his eyes. “I want you so fucking much, Vale.”
“So we can keep going?” he asks.
“Please,” I tell him.
His lips meet mine for another minute and then back away, pecking at my cheek and my jaw before going down to my neck where he licks a stripe up my throat before kissing me there. His hand goes farther up my leg, and I don’t know if the needy-ass moan I let out is because of where he ends up or because of his tongue at my earlobe.
Both. For sure both.
I try to keep my breathing under control while his hand fully goes into my briefs under the hot sauce loincloth and I nearly let out an ugly cackle when he stops kissing me to look down and say, “Huh. Leana was right about you.”
I’m trying my best to keep myself in control of the situation as he starts kissing lower, across my chest, when he laughs as his tongue grazing my nipple makes me squirm and let out a low groan I’ve never heard myself make before, watching him move to my arms, all while his hand slowly strokes up and down. When he gets up and quickly takes off what’s left of his costume, just a pair of white briefs remaining that leave no doubt about how into this he is, he smiles even bigger when I let out a “So fucking beautiful,” as I take in the sight of him. And then he sits down on the floor, on his knees, in between my legs.
I’ve never been so close to busting prematurely as I am in this moment, him in nearly nothing at all, unclasping my costume at my hip, throwing it across the room. I sit up an inch to let Vale take off my last layer of clothing.
“Yeah. Leana was right about you.”
I almost ask him to tell me about that conversation but then his mouth is on me, full of me, and it all becomes cusswords and moans and my hand in his hair. It’s great. It’s perfect. He’s perfect. Literally, anything and everything involving mouth, he’s the best I’ve ever had. No competition. Every night I’ve spent thinking about this, using a lube-covered palm to try my best to mimic the feeling, wanting this, is no comparison to how good he is.
I wish this could last for hours, but way too quickly—while also definitely a very respectable amount of time later—“I’m getting close,” turns into “Vale, I’m—fuck,” and watching him swallow me down with the biggest smile on my face.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Vale says, catching his breath, leaving little pecks of kisses on the inside of my thighs as one of his hands keeps a hold of me, slowly stroking, just enough to not bring on the oversensitivity. “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about how nice it’d be to be right here.”
“You have no idea how good you are at that,” I reply, sounding high on post-orgasm bliss, lying back and propped up on my elbows. Or, who knows, maybe my dick fully ignoring the science behind a refractory period is a pretty obvious sign of how good I think he is. “Or how much time I’ve spent thinking about how nice it’d be for you to be right there. Turns out no amount of imagination compares to the real thing.”
Then, for a second, it clicks in my brain that I’m in my room, naked, with another (nearly) naked guy. That saidanother (nearly) naked guyjust gave me the best head of my life. And it feels okay. It feels right. It feels great. I want more. If I had to explain this to the version of myself from a year ago, I wouldn’t even know where to begin.
Why couldn’t it all have clicked earlier?
Why did it have to click at all?
Why did I have to ignore it the first time around?
I don’t know where to go from here, but I know I don’t want this to end yet.
“Come here,” I tell him, smiling as I watch him get up and straddle me. My hands go right to his ass, underneath the fabric of his briefs before adding, “And take these off.”
For the briefest span of time, seeing him on top of me, realizing,Wow, there are two naked guys in this room, there’s twice as many dicks, twice as much foreskin as I’m used to in moments like this, I get a little panicky. Nervous. There’s aHow did I end up here?that turns quickly intoWhy did I wait so long to end up here?An excitement and a long list of wants replaces that panic and those nerves.
“Will you stay the night?” I ask in between soft, slow kisses.
“Because you want me to do that again?”
“Yeah, obviously,” I say through a quiet laugh and a smirk. “You are more than welcome to blow me as many times as you’d like tonight. As long as you do that thing with your tongue again.”
“What thing?”
“Chinga—you know. Shit nearly had me finished thirty seconds in.”
A voice in the back of my head is still saying this is a bad idea. That these few hours are all I’ll probably ever get from him, and why make this hurt more by trying to grab as many minutes as I can?
But I’d regret letting him leave now for a lot longer. Looking into his eyes, soft but still wanting, I can’t go back just yet.
“Plus, I’ve never had anyone sleep over before.”
