Page 43 of Virgin Skin

Fuck, Piston smells even better first thing in the morning. Or maybe I’m just a total weirdo perv who really loves the smell of his dried sweat and cum.

Cum…

Ungh. Last night happened. For real. Piston’s mouth on my cock and his finger in my ass was a situation that actually happened.

Was he into it? He said he was, but maybe he was being polite?

Do guys do that? Seems like it would make more sense just to be honest, but I could also see Piston being the type to try to spare someone’s feelings.

Fuck me, I finally get him naked, and I nut before he can stick more than a finger inside me. I don’t think he even managed a whole finger. If I felt that full with just his fingertip, what would it actually feel like to have my hole stretched around his cock?

I groan softly.

The whole thing was so damn hot. Hot for me, anyway. Still undetermined whether it was hot for Piston or he was trying to be nice.

As usual, my brain is wide awake and already whipping up an anxiety spiral before the rest of my body even knows what’s happening. As far as it’s concerned, we’re in a lovely, warm cocoon of thick blankets and naked man. I’m definitely opting for that version of reality over the violence my brain is choosing at fuck o’clock in the morning.

I squeeze my eyes closed even tighter and burrow deeper into Piston’s arms. I don’t have the first clue what time it is. It could be the middle of the night or it could be well past noon. I’m not about to open my eyes and find out. Given Piston’s soft snoring, he’s not that worried about it either.

To combat the incessant brain chatter, I settle on replaying memories from last night, starting with the moment he pushed me up against the wall and shoved his tongue down my throat. I linger in excruciating detail on the feeling of his hot, wet tongue dancing with mine, the possessive way he dug his fingers into me and bit down on my jaw like he was trying to stake his claim.

The pleasant chub of my morning wood thickens against his bare hip. Maybe this is a dangerous choice of distractions. Hard to decide which is worse post-hookup etiquette though—letting Piston wake up to me hard and horny all over again or getting myself so fixated on all of my questions and worries that I eventually shake him awake and bombard him with an endless stream of them.

Common sense tells me the first option is preferable, so I stop questioning it and sink back into my half-awake horny daydream. I can still feel a slight sting in my ass even from just a single finger. I clench just to test it, and the ache makes my cockstiffen a little more. I nuzzle my nose against his bare shoulder and resist the urge to suck on his skin.

I guess it’s probably a good thing I didn’t last long enough for the main event if I’m still feeling one finger hours later. I can’t ignore the pit of disappointment in my stomach though. I have no clue how he’s going to feel this morning. Last night might have been my one and only chance with him, and I blew it. I huff out a breath against his shoulder.

What if he wakes up this morning and is so freaked out about what we did that he tells me I have to move out?

Worse, what if he lets me stay but everything between us changes? What if the few inches between us on the couch this past week turn into no more late-night TV binges at all?

So much for not spiraling.

Okay, happy thoughts. Get back to happy thoughts.

The sound of Piston’s grunts and moans muffled around my tongue while we undressed each other.

The weight of his cockhead on my tongue and the strained look on his face as he chased his release.

The salty-sweet flavor of his cum…

Annnnnd I’m back to horny. This is a very hard morning… pun intended?

His breathing changes, becoming less deep and rhythmic. His leg, tangled between mine, twitches, and his fingers curl against my back. I hold my breath. Should I pretend to still be asleep? Wait, why would I need to pretend to be asleep? Is it bad hookup etiquette to be the first person awake? And why the hell isn’t there a YouTube channel that covers advice for situations like this?10 tips for when you wake up naked with your long-lost dad’s close friend.

I’d subscribe to that. I’d even smash the Like button like I wanted Piston to smashmelast night.

Dammit, Milo, focus.Piston is slowly blinking awake, and I still haven’t decided yet if I should pretend like I’m just waking up too or if it even matters. The windows rattle gently, like there’s major wind going on outside. I’m not sure why I even notice except for the fact that it’s a momentary distraction from my nerves.

Under the anxious electricity firing through my body, there’s something else though. Excitement, butterflies, the silly fantasy that he might wake up and kiss me instead of freaking out…

His eyes are hazy with leftover sleep, but they meet mine and it’s officially too late to pretend I’m still asleep.

“Morning,” I whisper, because it feels wrong to speak at a normal volume while we’re still in bed.

He grunts, and I have no idea if it’s a ‘good morning’ grunt, a ‘what the hell are you still doing in my bed?’ grunt, or an ‘I need coffee before I form full sentences’ grunt. With all the anxious, borderline giddy energy firing through all of my nerve endings, it’s impossible to keep myself from twitching and squirming a little in his arms.

The movement makes my cock drag against him again. The foggy look in his eyes is burned away, turning into a smolder, and his cock stiffens in response. He flexes his fingers, his fingertips brushing along my spine.

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