Page 23 of Eternally Devoted

Last night, after watching Sterling touch her so softly but also so perfectly, making her toes curl immediately, I knew I’d be jerking off a lot in the days to come. But then I got invited. I got to touch Juniper in a place I’ve only ever seen with my eyes closed in a dark room. She was so soft and so responsive, each stroke of my thumb over her clit had her back arching, her eyes rolling, moans rising off her full lips. She came for us, and we made her come together, both of those things erotic to me inverydifferent ways.

As I towel the dampness from my hair, looking down at my raging erection standing against my stomach, the head leaving asmear of precum in my happy trail, I realize I fucked up. But the click of the front door, followed a moment later by the click of a bedroom door, tells me I’m too late.

Sterling is home.

And as important as relieving the sexual tension in my groin is before we go bowling and have dinner, it feels more important to talk to Sterling.

Because I haven’t been able to shake the weight of the unknown all day. Something happened with Juniper… and it’s festering inside me.

I take my time getting dressed, running the comb through my hair more times than I normally would. A spritz of cologne on my neck and wrists comes before I try on a few different pairs of jeans, ultimately going for the ones with the small stain on the pocket. Juni gave me a sharpie once when I was helping her set up her booth at the farmers market, and at some point the cap came off. When she noticed and shot her hand down my pocket, rubbing a wet cloth on the outside, I realized that the pen coming uncapped brought me physically closer to Juni than I’d ever been. I got a hard-on as she scrubbed at the unmoving dark spot.

They’re now myluckyjeans.

After pulling on a hoodie and slipping into my Sambas, I finally make my way out to the shared living space, hoping to have timed it just right, hoping that Sterling will be showered and dressed.

Except the space is empty, so I swipe a beer from the fridge, put some food and water out for the yellow dog who has been living in our garage and yard, then settle in at the couch, flicking on a sports game I have zero interest in. My pulse skips at the click of his door opening, and even if we’d moved into this house together at the same time, it makes sense that a man like Sterling has the big suite. He treads down the hall, broad chest and wideshoulders controlling the space as soon as he’s in it. At six-foot-five, he doesn’t just dwarf Juni, but me too. My solid six-foot height feels small next to a man as commanding as he is.

I take a pull of cold beer, my eyes hungrily perusing his bare chest. But when I find him watching me, my eyes snap to the Fenway poster above the TV.

“Hey, man,” he greets, reaching for his own beer from the fridge. The towel folded into itself at his waist splits, and I’ve never been so envious of the inside of a fridge, I swear. It gets to see everything that towel is covering, if only for a split second. But that’s a split second longer than I’ve ever had.

“Hey,” I say, finishing my beer too quickly. I catch a belch with the back of my hand and force my eyes on his.

“I’ll be ready in a few,” he says, his bicep bulging as he twists the cap from the beer. The heavy glug of his throat working down the alcohol makes bumps rise up on the back of my neck, and my balls tingle.

“Okay,” I rasp, my voice sounding thin and hoarse, like he just told me to roll on a condom or something. Then he disappears, the same click of his door that excited me now gets me to my feet.

He’s getting dressed. He never takes long, but it’s long enough.You have five minutes.

So much for not jerking off.

After Sterling in a towel, I need it. And it will only take a minute.

Or less.

I set my empty on the counter and tread down the hall, veering off to my room. Twisting the lock, I toss a pillow at the bottom of the door to absorb any stray noises, and get to work on my pants. With my jeans banded in haste around my thighs, I snatch up the picture from next to my bed and grip the base of my erection with my free hand.

The photo is the three of us, Juniper in the middle. She’s dressed in a monkey costume, with Sterl and me in banana suits. It was last Halloween. We gave out candy at the nursing home, and helped Juniper host a talent show among the senior citizens. I didn’t think it would be fun, but it was one of the best nights of my life.

I pinch my gaze on her wide smile as I pump my fist down my shaft, precum already dripping, catching on my fist. Her mouth is beautiful; the best shape, makes the sweetest smile, so perfect. I can’t help but imagine that mouth split open, Sterling’s cock sliding onto her tongue, mine next to his.

Heat blooms at the base of my spine, slowly working through my hips, centering in my groin. Quickly, with my cock in my hand, I drop the framed photo to the bed and snatch a t-shirt from the floor.

Tossing it out to catch my cum, I resume pumping myself, this time my eyes veering to theotherperson in the photo.

I’ve always loved the way Sterling towers over us, and how his cheeks get pinker than most when he’s winded or excited. I wonder if he flushes when he fucks, and what sounds he makes when he finishes. Does he grunt? Is he capable of filthy, dirty words?

I look back at Juni, then over at myself. Closing my eyes, I see the three of us together, Sterling and I both inside of her, all of us sweaty, our love entwined in more ways than I ever thought imaginable. She clenches around us, making us finish together, his hot release sliding along my shaft as I throb and pulse with him.

My eyes pop open as the first thick ribbon of cum splashes over the t-shirt. I stroke myself, emptying every drop I have as I stare at the photo of all three of us.

My breathing levels as a familiar click makes my spine straighten. Sterling’s hand knocks into my closed door. “I’m ready.”

“Me too,” I shoot back, wiping my hand in the t-shirt, making sure all traces ofyou make me so hot I have to jerk before we hang outare gone and done. Guiltily, I replace the picture next to my bed, toss the shirt in the hamper, and head out of my room, meeting Sterling in the kitchen where he’s drinking a fresh beer.

In a navy blue hoodie and faded blue jeans, his feet tucked into brown boots, my stomach flips a little. I love him in jeans and a hoodie, but because it’s weird to have a favorite outfit for your straight male roommate, I keep it to myself and grab another beer, too.

“About the other night,” Sterling starts, his focus on me suddenly intense.

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