Page 4 of The Try Line

Continuing my path downwards, I trace his cut abs with my tongue and follow the V of his lean muscles down to his pelvis. He wiggles and jerks when I lick the crease where his thigh meets his torso, and I use the movement to shimmy myself between his legs until his cock is jutting up in front of my face. He's fucking glorious. Long and uncut and beautiful. The bulbous purple head of his cock is leaking, drops of pre-cum rolling down his shaft. My mouth waters, and I lick my lips. My eyes dart up to find Mik propped up on his elbows, watching with hooded eyes. Keeping my gaze locked on his, I run the flat of my tongue from the base of his balls, slowly up his long shaft. The slightly sweet and bitter flavor of his cum bursts on my tongue and I flutter my eyes closed, groaning.

"Fuck, you taste good," I say, wrapping a hand around his base. Holding him steady, I lower my mouth over his crown and swirl my tongue to gather more of his sweet release before taking him deeper.

Mik hisses and drops his head back, one hand finding its way into my hair. I push myself lower, taking him all the way into the back of my throat.

"Jesus, Jay," he exclaims in a hoarse whisper, his fingers fisting into my hair. "That feels…fuck."

Bobbing on his cock, I take him to the edge, letting his pre-cum and my saliva drip everywhere. When I feel his thighs tighten, I pull back, licking him like a lollipop while he pants.

"Do you trust me?" I ask, watching his expression for any signs of doubt.

"Of course," he says, dark brows furrowing. I try to suppress a wicked smirk as I kiss down the length of his cock and take his balls into my mouth, one at a time, while my thumb gently massages his taint.

"Jay, what are you?—"

A deep moan erupts from his throat instead of whatever he was about to say next when I move my thumb down to his hole. He tenses, but I don't pull away. Instead, I take his cock in my mouth again, repositioning myself so I can take him as deep as possible, massaging his hole while I deep throat him. He relaxes and rocks his hips, thrusting deeper into my mouth, testing my gag reflex. I manage to keep myself together, spit flowing freely out of the sides of my mouth, pouring over my fingers and wetting my passage as I push one finger inside. He cries out when it breaches the first ring of muscle, but makes no move to stop me and he doesn’t stop thrusting into my throat.

"Fuck!" he shouts as my finger pushes in to the second knuckle, and I barely brush over his prostate before he explodes in my mouth. I crook my finger and massage the pleasure spot until I've milked him dry, and we're both left panting.

He recovers faster than I do, considering he's the one that just shot off into my mouth. Pulling me up for a filthy kiss, he flips us over.

"Teach me how to do that."

MIK

Water cascades over my head, washing away the last of the shampoo I worked through my hair. It’s overgrown, but I might never cut it ever again. A grin stretches over my lips as I think about the way Jason likes to grip the nape of my hair to keep me in place while he tongue fucks my mouth into oblivion.

Fuck. Is this really my life?

The last week has been a blur. Life has continued as it always has, with work and classes every day and practice twice a week. The normalcy of my days is only challenged by the nights and mornings I spend with him, but even that feels strangely normal. We’ve settled into a new routine that’s both comfortable and exciting.

We didn't leave the apartment for two days after we finally succumbed to the feelings we've both been carrying around for years. Now I spend my days watching the clock, waiting to get back to him. Waiting until the moment I can strip down and plaster myself to him. There's so much missed time to make up for. The only way I can rectify how much of an idiot I've been for the past four years is to maintain skin to skin contact every possible moment.

I was so afraid I would screw us up, that I'd lose him as a friend. We’re closer than ever, now.

But not close enough.

Two weeks ago, two months ago, two years ago—I would have been overthinking the dynamics of what goes where and how to do what. But if there's one thing I've learned since the day the barriers betweenus fell, it's that my body knows what it wants, and that Jason knows how to give it to me. Sex is a different experience with him. For once, it's not something I have to overthink. We fit in a way I never thought possible. In a way I never thought I would crave as much as I do.

Jason pumped the brakes after it became clear I was diving headfirst into all of this without a care in the world. He’s concerned that I should be more weirded out, afraid I'll freak out or something. He wants to give me time to think clearly with the right head and reconsider.

What he doesn't understand is that this was already written. It was always going to happen. It was always going to be us. There's no one else for me and hasn't been since the first time I saw him. I was afraid of it for so long, but I'm not afraid anymore.

I don't want to go slow. I just want him.Allof him.

"Mik? You in here?" Jason pokes his head through the open bathroom door. "Hey," he says, his deep, gravelly voice making my cock perk up.

"Hey," I parrot, opening the shower door and leaning towards him for a kiss. He steps forward and presses his lips to mine, and the now familiar aching need warms me from the inside out. I groan.It's not enough.

My hand snakes into the front waistband of his track pants, and I pull him into the shower. He pretends to huff at his clothes getting wet, but conveniently doesn't have his wallet or phone anywhere on him. We work together to strip him down until his broad chest is rubbing against mine and his thick thigh presses between my legs. I grind myself against him, my cock growing harder by the second.

It’s understandable that he’d be worried I’d freak out over being with a man, since all I've ever known is women. And yeah, it's hard not to compare the feel of his big, strong body with what I'm used to. But instead of being thrown off by it, I marvel at howright he feels. I love every inch of his burly body pressed against me. It's all so much better and easier than I ever imagined.

I've been in love with my best friend for years, and now I finally have him. I'm not sure there's a way he could touch me that I wouldn't like. Everything he's done—rough or tender, fast or slow—it's all good. It's all perfect.

And I want so much more.

His big, calloused hands run up and down the length of my back. He grips the globes of my ass and pulls me against him. He lifts me like I weigh nothing, and I couldn’t care less about my masculinity. I can’t be bothered to give a single fuck for anything when he’s kissing me like this. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around his waist and moan like a slut as he presses me back against the tile wall and sucks on my throat.

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