Page 72 of Dean

His back is bowed, his legs spread wide as I hold myself inside of him. I should just fuck him, should just push inside and impale that ass on my cock, but I don’t. Instead, I just stare down at those two perfect globes, my hard, veiny cock stuck right in between.

My fingers tighten on him, surely going to leave bruises as I hold him, fighting the urge to fuck him.

I can’t fuck him.

A small sob hits my ears, and I see Avery’s wet eyes as he tries to wiggle back further onto me.

He needs more.

I don’t know what to give him.

I can’t give him this, right?

I need to give him more than just the tip, more than just platitudes. But can I? Am I ready?

I pull out of him, and he groans in frustration, his eyes peering at me over his shoulder.

When I don’t move to fill him, he reaches behind himself and slides two fingers inside of his ass.

I watch it, those fingers disappearing into his hole, and it turns me on more than I thought it would.

Avery’s forehead is on the wall in front of him, his hand furiously stroking his cock as he tries to work himself over the edge.

I want to be the one to bring him there.

Me.

Without a word, I step closer, pulling his hands away from him and replacing them with mine. He whimpers, his fingers splayed across the shower wall once more as I fist his cock and finger his ass.

“Yes. Yes. Yes!” he cries out, his entire body shaking, his muscles popping from his skin as I scissor him open.

“Right there, right fucking there.”

It’s a small bump and I massage it, making unearthly sounds move from Avery’s throat. Making my cock pulsate against his hip.

“Ohfuuuuuuck. I’m coming!” he shouts and then I see spurts of his cum falling onto the shower floor.

He groans and shakes as I continue to touch him, the sight of him coming undone doing things to me. Something shifts inside of my belly as my hands fall from him, and he turns to look at me.

“Use me,” he whispers, arching his ass back. “Just the crack. Fuck it.”

I step behind him and do it, letting my cock slide up and down that ass, using him just like he suggested.

The sight of it, my cockhead peeking out from the top of him, the sensation of his skin against mine, the sight of his slim shoulders and all that long hair. I grab a fistful and pull.

Avery groans as my orgasm overwhelms me. My cum coats his lower back, dripping down his body and onto the tile.

My forehead hits his shoulder and the two of us just stand there, bodies connected, trying to find our breath. Everything rushes to me, excitement, hope, and more detrimental…guilt.

And that’s when I say it. A terrible thing slips from my mouth just as my cock slips from his crack.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, and Avery sighs, standing up with a grunt. I see my cum sliding down his thigh as he turns to face me, his eyes slightly wild, his hair a mess. I want nothing more than to reach out and smooth it down.

I wish nothing more than to take those two words back.

Because I’m not sorry. I’m not at all sorry it happened.

My eyes slide down his wet chest, his puckered nipples, to his half-hard cock.

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