The fact that he was kissing me, doing half the work by running his hand into my hair while I hastily followed his lead, sent a thrill of excitement through me unlike anything I’d ever experienced.
For years I'd wanted this. I’d dreamt of even coming close enough to feel his warmth on my body, of holding him, touching him tenderly. Oh God. I could do it right now, right this second and he would let me.
That thought took over my limbs and without any more input from my brain, my hands were on his hips, pushing him down flat as I rolled onto him, a continuation of last weekend.
Damn. His hip bones. The fucking V in my palms had me moaning against his mouth and I gripped them both while I kissed him like I was starving, and he was a tasty, home cooked meal.
He moaned in return, his hands reaching up and tangling into my shirt.
I couldn't stop.Not anymore. It was like a dam had been broken.
I ground down against his hips, moving until his cock hardened against mine and he pulled back with a gasp.
“Fuck,” he gasped. “Itisbetter. So much better. Yourlips.”
He moaned and pulled me back down, his arms both going around my neck, holding me there, stopping me from pulling away. Every movement of his lips and tongue, the stubble on his chin scraping me, sent sparks shooting to my groin.
“Why is it so good?” he gasped. “It's weird. Right?”
“What?” I gasped, still kissing him even though he was distracted.
“It's weird that your lips feel so much better than Melissa's.”
Reluctantly, I stilled.
“You think it’s weird?” I asked slowly and he nodded.
“Wait. Don't you think it's weird? You said you’re straight, right?”
I was pretty sure if he wasn't hammered, the answer to that question would have been pretty fucking obvious. In fact, the hard on I had pressed againsthishard on would have explained quite a few things about this situation. But no. The bastard was going to make me say it, wasn't he?
“Kamran, I'm...notstraight.”
He stopped breathing.
So much time passed that I was pretty sure he was dead from the shock.
“That explains a lot,” he finally said.
“Wait. What?” I demanded. “Like what?”
“Well, you're, like, shockingly good-looking Ryan. Why don't you ever date anyone? There's always been a lineup of girls waiting...”
“Kamran,” I said slowly, carefully picking what in that statement to discuss. “Do you really think guys that are not at all gayfind their friendsshockingly good-looking?”
“Yeah,” he said, simply. “I mean,Ido.”
I bit my lip.
“Yeah but, do othernotgay guys also have a hard on pressed against their male best friend’s hard on right now?” I asked, grinding pointedly down against him.
I had to bite my lip to stop myself from moaning, even still, the way my breath stuttered from the feeling was hard not to hear. He could feel how hard I was, how quickly my heart waspounding and likewise, I felt all of him in the same way. He was so sexy and welcoming under me.
Kamran didn't answer my question. When I stroked my fingers over his arms, he shivered and let out a long breath.
“No one's kissed me in a long time,” he said suddenly. “Or touched me.”
“Oh,” I whispered as his meaning registered. That he was just lonely. Actually, I got the sentiment. I couldn’t even be mad.
