Page 17 of The Art of Professing Love

“And what is that?”

I opened my eyes. “Each other.”

Irving suppressed a smile, squeezing my cock a little tighter. I closed my eyes again and dropped my head back, pressing it hard into the thin layer of clothing beneath it. I’d never been ashamed of my size, and multiple partners had even complimented it before. But Irving’s hands were large enough to make even me shrink back a little. I would be lying if I said they didn’t make for a great handjob, though.

“Do you play piano?” I asked.

“No, why?”

“You would make an excellent pianist with those hands.”

He laughed softly and slid his thumb over my tip. Slick with precum, he brought it back down over my shaft. I took a shaky breath in and let it back out, my hands still exploring every inch of his body that I could reach.

“I think I have a problem,” I told Irving.

“And what problem is that? You never shut up?”

“I think I’m falling in love with you – or your body, at the very least.”

Irving was silent for a long time after that. His strokes along my length slowed and I opened my eyes to study his face. He looked lost in thought, but when he finally met my gaze, his eyes were as clear and sharp as ever.

“I’m not ready to declare love for anyone again just yet,” he said, “but I can say that I like being with you, Sylvan. I’ve been trying to ignore my feelings for the last week, and as much as I can’t stand some aspects of you, there are others that I find utterly irresistible.”

I cocked my head and smiled. “I think I’ll take that as a victory,” I replied. “A small one, but a victory nonetheless.”

“Wonderful. Now, can we stop talking and focus on the sex? It’s cold out here and I swear to God, if a bug crawls on either of us, I’m running out of the forest buck-naked and leaving you here to fend for yourself.”

I let my fingers trail down the sparse hair along the center of his abdomen till I reached his cock, which I gave a tight squeeze. He shut his eyes for the briefest of seconds, and when he opened them again, I smirked.

“Is that a good enough answer for you?”

14

IRVING

There was something different about me with I was with Sylvan. Certainly, I could be with anyone and get off easily enough, but the time I spent with him was unlike sex with anyone else. I was free when I was with him. He made me giddy and aroused and hungry for his touch all at once. I craved more of him than I could get in one night or afternoon. Even now, with his hands all over me, the desire was almost as strong as it had been over the past week, and I dreaded returning home all alone and not knowing when I would get a chance to be with him again.

Our breaths came fast and erratic. Even in the cold, my face was hot and sweat formed on my brow. If I had any sense left in me, I wouldn’t let either of us climax out here with nothing to clean ourselves up with. But sense was a thing of the past.

Sylvan gasped, his next breath light and clipped, as he came. His grip tightened around me and I couldn’t hold back any longer, shutting my eyes so tightly, I saw stars. We were still in that barely hidden clearing in that little thicket of trees, but I was floating on clouds for all I cared.

I let myself collapse on top of Sylvan, sweaty, breathless, and quickly returning to my senses. “This was a bad idea,” I told him.

“In what way?” Sylvan asked.

He ran his hand through my hair and I wished we could stay here forever, wrapped up in each other’s embrace. The wind was harsh again, however, and the heat from our bodies was not enough to keep the chill away.

“Look around you,” I told him. “We’re lying in the middle of the woods naked, and once we get up, we have to go back to the library and everyone’s going to know and –“

Sylvan pressed his finger to my lips. “Relax,” he said softly. “If all you ever do is worry and pretend you’re above being human, you’re going to give yourself an early grave.”

I listened, albeit begrudgingly. We lay under the canopy of the trees as long as we could stand the cold before slowly sitting up and making sense of the crumpled pile of fabric underneath us.

“Here, use this to clean up,” Sylvan said, offering me a handful of moss.

I stared at the green clump in his hand. “You’ve got to be joking. I’m not rubbing that on my bare skin.”

Sylvan shook his head, retracting his hand. “Suit yourself.”

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