Page 58 of Rhett

“I’m gonna need to be opened up. It’s been a while for me. Do you want me to do it to myself, or do you want to do it?”

My cock twitches between us. “Me. I don’t want to miss anything about what it’s like to be with you.”

“Christ, baby.”

“If there’s one thing you need to know about me, it’s if I do something, I need to do it really well. I’m nothing if not an excellent student.”

Tripp grins, which elicits a grin of my own.

“Oh yeah?” Tripp flops onto his back and pumps his brows. “Have at it.”

“Wait. I said I like to study and learn, and that takes instruction. And I might have questions.” I don’t even recognizemyself right now, this light, fun Rhett, but this is what Tripp brings out in me. It’s a part of myself I wish I’d discovered earlier, and then so much of my life might’ve been different.

“Get the lube out of the drawer—bottom one, toward the back.”

“You keep yourself in good supply,” I tease.

“Most of the time I’m having fun by myself. I should make it as good as possible, right?”

“Yes.” It’s not something I thought about much before Tripp.

He shoves a pillow beneath his hips, raising himself for me. This is…new, but it doesn’t necessarily feel that way. Everything I’ve done with Tripp feels like a natural progression. Being with a man isn’t as confusing or as much of a surprise as I would have thought.

“What next?” I ask.

“I need your fingers.” He interlocks his with mine for a moment. “Start with one, then two and three. Stretch me and fuck me with them. Once my body gets used to doing this again, I won’t need to be stretched as much.”

My cock jerks. Hearing him tell me that is hotter than I expected.

“Stretch and fuck. Got it.” I try to pretend I’m not nervous.

Tripp lets go of my hand, and I slick my fingers with lube. I kiss him again, take his mouth while my hand slips between his legs, down past his balls, between his ass cheeks. There’s hair there, of course, just like mine, and I ease in deeper, until I reach his wrinkled hole, never taking my mouth off his. I feel like I could do this forever—just kiss Tripp.

He spreads his legs wider, and I rub my fingers in circles around his rim first, playing with him. When he moans into my mouth, I figure that means it feels good, so I do it more, letting our tongues move together while I touch him.

Tripp threads his fingers through my hair, deepens the kiss, and I use more pressure on his hole, push forward, the tip of my finger sliding inside him and…fuck, it’s so hot and tight in there. The deeper I go, I can’t imagine how this will feel around my cock. I can’t believe he’s going to give me this. That Tripp wants me to fuck him, to be that close to him; that he trusts me with his body.

“Fuck yes,” he says. “Feels good. If you curl your finger some, you’ll find my prostate. It feels amazing to have it stroked.”

I find a spot in his body that feels a little different and rub it. “Like this?” Tripp’s hips thrust forward, and I laugh. “I think I found it.”

“Yes. You so fucking did. Fuck me with your finger and keep playing with my spot.”

I like him telling me what to do so I know I get it right. I pay attention to every sound he makes, every move of his body, making sure I’m giving Tripp the most pleasure possible.

“I’m ready for a second one. We don’t have to take too much time on this part. The main event will be our favorite.” He winks, and my heart flutters.

I pull my finger out, add more lube, then try to work two inside him. I’m surprised at the way his body opens for me, wonder if it feels good to him. Does it hurt? Is there pressure? What is he thinking?

When he lets out another hungry, needy sound, it goes straight to my balls, making me throb even harder for him.

Precum leaks onto his belly in a small pool as I fuck my fingers in and out of him. What does it taste like? I can’t help remembering the feel of his skilled mouth on my dick, and…I want to give him that. But what’s pulling me in just as strongly is how curious I am. Hell, I’ve got my fingers in his ass, and yet I haven’t even touched his cock?

I wrap my other hand around his thick shaft, feel how hot and hard he is, the throb of his veins against my palm. Tripp hisses in response, and I jerk my hand back.

“No. Don’t stop. It’s good,” he urges me on, and for a moment, I feel silly. Did I think I hurt his dick by stroking him? I might not have touched another man’s erection before, but I have experience with mine. And then Tripp runs his palm up and down my thigh, helping me refocus on us. “So good, baby.”

Those words fuel me, making me feel like I’m doing something good, showing Tripp how much he means to me, how much I appreciate him, and I don’t feel like I’ve done that enough with people in my life—show them I care, that they matter. I didn’t know how, or I was scared, or I couldn’t find it in myself to care about anyone other than my dad. And so much of that was just to try and make him care about me.

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