I ran my palms over his pecs and around to his back, pulling him closer. Wanting to feel all of him. My mouth left his lips to travel down along the thick stubble on his jaw, the rough exterior of his neck. I felt frantic with the need to touch him everywhere, to feel his thick hands on me.
My world tilted sideways when he took my breast into his mouth, licking and sucking on me like a popsicle.
It was too much, and then—all the sudden—not enough.
I leaned back to reach for the side table.
“What are you doing?” James asked.
“The light. I want to see you touching me.”
James made a noise that might have been a protest, but I was too turned on to register it. I fumbled for a moment and then flicked the lamp on. The weak beams did little other than cast shadows around the room. Better than nothing, I supposed.
But for James, it was too much.
A ray of lamplight streaked across his center, and I saw the moment he tensed up, reaching an automatic hand to cover his chest. He inhaled as though to suck in his stomach.
I’d forgotten about his insecurities. Everything had been going so well. But of course, one good night couldn’t erase a lifetime of negative self-talk.
On his shirtless body, I recognized the imperfections that likely bothered him. His belly was undeniably round, the amount of hair on his chest and stomach above average. Severe acne scars scattered across his collarbone, and I knew they were worse on his back. I’d felt as much with my fingers when we’d been kissing. A few silvery pink stretch marks spread along his sides and under his pecs.
I wished more than anything that he could see himself the way I did. Head to happy trail, I found his hair deliciously sexy. And the size of him, from his height to his belly, turned me on. Made him seem solid and powerful. The line of his erection clearly visible in his sweatpants seemed proportionally large as well, and I couldn’t wait to get my hands on it. Maybe my mouth too.
To me, hisflawswere perfect, and I had the same impression I’d gotten a moment ago when we’d kissed. James and I fit together. Faults and shortcomings and imperfections and all. Because we gave each other what we needed.
Which is why I reached behind myself to turn the light back off.
“That’s actually too bright,” I said. “I just want to focus on feeling right now.” I reached forward and grabbed his face between my palms as I pressed our foreheads together. “Touch me, James. Make me feel you.”
A strangled sound came out of his throat and his lips crashed down on mine. He nudged me to my back and rolled on top of me. At first, he held himself up, like he was doing a push-up. But I was having none of that. I reached up to pull him down on me, sighing with deep satisfaction at the full weight of his body on mine.
He kept our naked chests touching as he came up on his elbows. My vision slowly adjusted to the light. I could see the glassy shine of his eyes in the darkness, staring down at me before taking my mouth again in a slow, sensual, tongue-dueling kiss.
“I can’t get enough,” he said when he finally pulled away, continuing to pepper my face with tiny kisses. “I want to make it so good for you.”
“Being here with you is amazing.” I whispered hoarsely. “Just keep touching me.”
“Whatever you want.”
“And James?”
“Mmm?”
“I can’t get enough of you either. You are the sexiest, most beautiful man I have ever met. Everything about you. Your mind and your body. It’s all mine, and I mean to have my way with you, baby.” I hummed, kissing my way across his neck and chest.
“I like when you call me baby.”
He pressed further into me, slotting his heavy cock perfectly into my center. He rocked gently, creating a teasing friction, and I moved my fingers down to tug at his waistband.
“Take these off.”
He placed more soft kisses, first to one nipple and then the other, before rising to stand next to the couch bed. He reached for his wallet and produced a condom, tossing it onto the end table.
My eyes had almost entirely acclimated to the dimness, and I made out his features as he stood in the moonlight’s path. It snuck in from the small basement window, drenching him in a glimmer of silver. I sat up on my elbows, biting my lip in anticipation as I watched him pull down his bottoms, along with his boxer briefs, in one motion.
His erection sprang free from a dark nest of curls to slap his stomach. He gripped himself, slowly moving his palm up and down along the reddish-purple length, running a thumb over the head on each upstroke to catch the drops of pre-cum, smoothing them over the shaft. I hadn’t seen many penises in my life—I could count the number on one hand—but James’s was certainly the only one that made me understand why the shorthand for them in the modern world was the eggplant emoji.
He stroked himself languidly, clearly emboldened by the darkness, before he finally said, “Your turn.”
