Page 117 of If Only In Our Dreams

“You thought of everything, didn’t you?” Ben purred, low and sweet.

“I figured I could show you my place,” I squeaked, shuddering when his teeth sunk into the side of my neck as I spoke. “A-and the—um. The taco stand I like.” Sounded stupid when I said it out loud. It’d been way more romantic in my head. “We could fuck?—”

“Nowthat’sa good idea,” Ben bit harder and I moaned, pleasure zinging up and down my spine.

“No interruptions—” I managed. “And then we’d?—”

“Mmm,” Ben dragged his tongue over the skin he’d just bit, sending shockwaves through my body.

“We’d—” I twitched.

“You know what I think?” Ben asked, syrupy sweet.

“W-What?”

“I think if I’m going to fuck you on Friday, we better get some more training in, don’t you?”

Oh fuck.

Oh fuck yes.

His hand slipped into my pants easily bypassing both layers of fabric, nails scratching down my thigh. “You owe me a surprise,” Ben hummed conversationally. “I feel cheated.”

“Thiswasthe surprise!” I laughed, cheeks hot. “I just…got distracted and forgot to tell you.” More like I chickened out.

“I expected something a little lacier,” Ben replied, point blank. Graciously allowing me to be a coward.

“You are a greedy monster,” I gasped out, shocked.

The idea wasn’t a bad one though. I’d never worn lingerie. It’d never occurred to me as something I could do—as a dude. But now I definitely was thinking about it. Ben would like that, wouldn’t he? Seeing my ass cupped in lace. Those big fucking hands pulling on the edges of the thong, smoothing them flat so they lay just the way he wanted.

“You like it,” Ben hummed, fingers slipping around my now very hard cock. I groaned, the tight dry warmth of his gripmaking the heat that had pooled low in my belly simmer. Bucking up, my lashes fluttered as Ben pushed between my legs, his fingers moving slow and dry and easy. Not tight enough to sting. Not tight enough to be anything but a tease.

“I…do,” I agreed, because it was true.

“You wish I was meaner,” Ben teased. His thumb traced the seam between my balls, and I quaked.

“I like the way you are,” I replied, honest—and distracted—because his big hand was still on my dick, stroke, stroke, stroking. “You’re perfect.”

Ben was quiet for a moment, and when I met his gaze again his eyes were full of heat. “You’re perfect too,” he replied, kissing me soft and slow and sweet. “So fucking perfect.”

Because Ben was actually the best man in the world, he grabbed the lube.

Slick, tight, and hot, he wrung my cock. I was two seconds from spilling when he released me, and the ungodly whine that escaped simply made him chuckle.

“Give me a second,” he murmured, fumbling with his own pants. When his dick slipped free, the tip flushed red and wet, I groaned. “There we go,” he murmured, pressing his length against mine, his fist squeezing us tightly together.

“Jesus,” I gasped out, head lolling back.

“That’s it,” Ben urged, stroking us up and down, tighter than before. He liked it tight. Liked it to hurt a little, just like I did. “Let me take care of you, just like I promised.”

I shuddered, a sharp sob escaping when Ben’s free hand came up to pull hard on one of my nipple piercings. “F-fuck” He pulled again, and my toes curled. It hurt so good, the pleasure-pain making my blood sing. Three more times he tugged, timing each pluck with his other hand, so I was squeezed and hot, and flushed.

“So close—I’m so?—”

Again, he brought me right to the edge before backing off.

“Yousadisticmotherfucker,” I gasped out as my approaching orgasm ebbed and then faded. My balls ached. My everything ached, more accurately.

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