Page 92 of Employing Patience

“I was saving myself the embarrassment of when you inevitably turned me down. If I pretended to them—and myself—that it was all a game, I could try to hide from the disappointment.”

“Why the fuck did you think I’d turn you down? I’m not known for being picky, and while looks aren’t everything, all of this”—I wave a hand over him—“does it for me. Bad.”

“So you’re saying if I’d pulled my head out of my ass, we would have been hooking up sooner?”

“Maybe, but like I tell my friends, time means nothing. Age means nothing. There’s no expiry date on life experiences; you’ll get them when you’re ready for them. Maybe if we’d hooked up back then, we wouldn’t have been ready for it.”

“Ready for what?”

That’s a heavy question. A question that requires me to put all the swimming thoughts and feelings I’m having into a sentence that makes sense. It’s beyond me. I’m not convinced there are words that encompass everything happening between us, and trying to explain what’s going on in my head only cheapens it. “To be knocked clean off our feet.”

Before Joey can reply and push for more than I’m ready to give, I pop the button on his jeans and reach inside them to pull out his cock. He’s soft, but it only takes a few seconds of my thumb massaging his tip before his cock plumps in my hand.

“I love turning you on,” I tell him.

“Why?”

“Because knowing you feel good makes me feel good. I’m the one who gets to touch you, the one who gets to bring all these delicious feelings out in you. The one who gets to build up the pressure in your pretty cock until you’re begging me. The one who gets to give you exquisite relief. And the fact that it’s you and it’s me just does something to me. Something I can’t put my finger on. Chemical or mental or physical … whatever it is, you’ve got me goddamn addicted. I’ve been so, so careful never to get addicted before.” I spit into my hand and wrap it around him again.

“Art …” His deep, husky tone makes my hand tighten around him.

“Yes?”

“Don’t hurt me.”

“Hurt you? It’s the opposite, meu lutador. I want to make you feel good.”

I draw Joey into a kiss, unable to believe how much doing only this drives me wild. I’m learning his taste, the feel of his soft lips and rough stubble, the way his hair slides so perfectly smooth through my fingers. The way his tongue fights for dominance, his teeth clash with mine when he’s getting too turned on, his fingers curl into my shirt and hold on for dear life.

I let go of his leaking cock and pull back.

“Stand up.”

He doesn’t question me, and it warms me to my soul.

I lean in and wrap my lips around his cock as I slide his pants down his legs. He thrusts into my mouth lazily while he tries to remove the jeans from his ankles, and once he’s free, I release him and stand too.

“Undress me.”

Again, no argument. He just does. Fingers and cotton skimming my sensitive skin as he removes my shirt. Knuckles grazing my cock as he removes my belt and lowers my fly. I’m already so hard for him, but he ignores my needy dick and lowers to his knees. Slowly, teasingly, he pushes my pants from my hips, down my thighs, until they’re loose enough to fall to the floor. My briefs are next. Another slow tease. Fingertips grazing erotic zones. And me, trying to control my breathing instead of following my urge to fuck his face already.

When we’re both naked, I take Joey’s hand and help him to his feet. Then I wrap an arm around his waist and lower him onto the bed.

With his body crushed beneath mine, I’m able to feel him everywhere. Skin and hair and precum. Rock-hard, silky-smooth shaft, pebbled nipples, steady, hot hands rested on my lower back.

When I went and got myself addicted to him, I really went all the way. I’m noticing all the details I wouldn’t normally, appreciating and reveling in every scent and sound and touch.

I can’t stop kissing him, all of him, any part of him within reach, and I just don’t want to. The freckles under his eyes, his nipples, the line of moles on his thigh. Maybe it was the buildup that makes this thing so intense between us, but I get the feeling it’s all Joey. Joey and my dumb body telling me that I want him. All of him.

“You gonna fuck me again?” he asks.

“Nah, meu querido. I thought you could fuck me.”

“What?”

I grin down at him. “If you want to.”

“Hell yes I do. Are you sure?”

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