Page 45 of Forever We Fall

“Arlo.” I moan. “Yes.”

“Look at you.” He tosses the covers off us with his leg. His gaze runs the length of my bare chest and exposed dick.

“Oh my God.” My hips lunge forward, harsher this time. The wet tip of my dick presses through his tightened fingers. “Slow down, or I’m going to come.”

“Already?” He smirks. “I’ve just started touching you.”

“Yes.” My gasp is almost feral and too far gone to reel myself back. Then I think about him, about the possibility of touching him. It’s enough to shift my focus. “Let me touch you, please. I’llmake you feel so good. You’ll know how hard it is to hang on more than a few strokes.”

“Yes.”

He answers so quickly that I can’t compute it. I look him in the eyes for any sign that I’m hallucinating. It must read easily on my face.

Arlo presses his hips forward, grazing his covered length against my dick. “Yes.” He repeats with his raspy voice.

I don’t waste one second before I plunge my hand inside his underwear and grasp his length.

“Hota.” Just like I had, he pumps his hips into my hand, gently fucking my palm. “Yes.” He times his thrusts with mine and stares down at the tips of our deep pink cocks ramming out of our pants in tandem.

“Oh God.” I grit my teeth to keep from coming from the sight alone.

“Oh, Arlo,” he corrects.

The tip of his cock weeps, slicking my fingers as I work his taut flesh. “Oh fuck, Arlo. I’m going to blow.”

“Not yet.” His head shakes, banning me from exploding.

I bite my lip and nod, ever compliant. Even if it kills me.

“I don’t want this to end yet.” He grins.

“We can do it again. Hell, it’s all we’re going to do.”

“Not all.” His laugh is sultry and as strained as I feel. “You have to continue to teach me Japanese.”

“Be prepared for an absolutely vile Japanese vocabulary.” I squeeze him tighter and pay extra attention to his tip.

“What dirty things will you teach me?”

I let loose a string of my native tongue that begins quite lurid but ends with a declaration of love and devotion I’m not ready to speak in English, mostly because he’s not ready to hear it.

By the time I’m done, I’m panting and holding on by a thread.

“Wow! That was quite a monologue.” Arlo’s hips pick up speed. Mine follow. “How do you say, ‘Come for me,’ in Japanese?”

“Watashi no tame ni kite.”

“Watashi no tame ni kite,” he demands with perfect inflection.

I thrust once, then twice into his hand and obey.

“Fuck, yes,” he praises. “I’m going to wear out that phrase.”

“Impossible.” I spurt into his hand and onto mine, and on his shirt too.

“That sounds like a challenge.”

The slickness of my cum coats Arlo’s dick. That’s all it takes. He follows, making a mess of the sheets and my chest.

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