Page 28 of Until We Kiss

He moans like he’s the one being stroked. We struggle with the rhythm at first, but he laughs and says, “We’ll figure it out.” And we do.

Is it weird to say that I never imagined someone touching me? Not that I’m untouchable or anything—I’m a good-looking guy. I figuredsomeonewould want to. But it never connected in my fantasies. It was always me on my knees.

Until now. Until it became Carter.

Tightness laces across my stomach, burns in my thighs, and quivers in my balls. His shoulder is hard against my forehead, my fingers gripping onto his arms. My hips move desperately, ass flexing, jaw locking as my muscles start to shake. The haze keeps thickening, pulling us closer. His breath rasps against my ear.

“Fuck, bro.” He kisses me there, under the hollow of my ear, and I’m so far gone that I don’t even fully register the “bro” or the kiss. I just pump harder into his fist, gripping onto him for fucking life.

I tip my head back, wanting to see him. I feel like I’m in the ocean, moving with the waves. My eyes are half hooded. He’s fuzzy and close. My lips part—I need to tell him I’m going to cum. That’s what I’m supposed to do, right?

“Theo,” he whispers. Water drips from his hair and clusters on his lashes.

I moan, saying something about how good it feels. Or how good he feels? I dunno.

“Your eyes are so blue,” he whispers.

My throat tightens. His strokes falter.

“All those football muscles.” He licks his lips, continuing like it’s the most natural thing to say while he’s jacking me off in the shower. “So damn hot. And your chest heaving and throat blushing. You’re sexy as shit.”

Jesus.

My release rockets out, plastering me, cursing as I come, releasing all over those banana shorts, pulsing in his fist, gripping onto his arms. I pull him to me, needy for his mouth. His lips are warm, my dick trembles against his shorts. My fingers tremble too.

I’ve never cum like that.

Not even close.

It takes me a few minutes to remember where I am, to understand that I’m still standing, that Carter is a fully separate person from me. I literally have this moment where it feels like we’repartof each other. I don’t know if that’s normal, but at some point, I realize that the ties of his shorts are scraping against my softened junk, and that he’s still hard. And that I want to suck his dick.

“Can I blow you?” My voice is rough, my stomach and thighs and balls still quivering from that cum.

And his response… it's so Carter that I laugh.

“Hell, yeah!” He beams.

His response does more than make me laugh. It makes mesmile. Not just my lips, but my whole body as I grasp at those ties, my cum slick on them as I tug them loose, and then we both laugh as we fight to peel those too-tight bananas off.

The bananas squelch on the floor, and my heart thumps double-time as I’m looking at his dick, perfectly arched, like a big, beautiful invitation.

This is it.

I mean, maybe. I don’t want to get ahead of myself. He could stop me at any time. But he seems as ready to go as I am.

And, shit, here goes.

I start to slide to my knees when his hand catches my arm.

His forehead wrinkles. “Should we move?”

“Hungh?”

“Should we move somewhere better?”

“Better?” I frown. “Are you done with the shower?”

“Nah, I like it here.” He nods towards my knee. “But I don’t want you to hurt.”

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