Page 91 of Dean

He pulls off after a long moment, my slick dick falling from his swollen mouth.

“Avery.”

“Dean,” he says, pushing himself to his feet and swiping at his mouth. “How was it?”

I reach out and pull him into me.

“Fucking perfect. But you’re all dirty now.”

“Oh, I don’t mind. I like it.”

“We’ll get you cleaned up.”

“You gonna take me into the shower with you? Scrub me clean?”

I bite my bottom lip and slap lightly at his ass cheek. “You fucking know it.”

We stand in the shower for far too long, putting my water heater to the test, but I want to take my time, to make sure I get all the grime I left on him washed off. And he loves it, arching into me, kissing his way across my neck as my soapy hands slide up and down miles of skin.

“I think the water is turning cold,” he says as he nips at my earlobe.

“Yeah,” I murmur, grabbing his ass and lifting him into me, a slow grind of our hips. I’m turned on again. I want him again.

Want to push more than just the tip in this time.

But I don’t say that. I just kiss my way across his face until I find his lips. Our tongues meet, stroking one another until we’re both panting. The steam in the room is making me slightly lightheaded, but I don’t want to stop touching him, kissing him. Even though it’s been so long, part of me is scared to go all the way, scared of finding out I’m not what he wants.

I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.

But I still want to try. I want to try everything.

“Shit, it’s cold now,” I murmur, and Avery nods. “Let’s get out.”

“Can we continue this in bed?” he asks as I hand him a towel. I want to keep doing this in bed, but I also feel those telltale nerves again. I push them away.

It’ll be fine. Fucking fine.

It’s Avery. Everything with him works even if I worry I’ll do it wrong.

“Fuck yeah.”

He grins and steps out, drying himself off hastily, but I stop him, making sure every inch of him is dry, bending my knees and sinking to the ground to dry off his legs.

His ass is right there, pert and biteable, so I lean forward and drag my teeth up those firm globes. Don’t even know if he likes this, but fuck, I do it anyway. Just going with the flow, trying new shit.

“Dean,” Avery gasps, reaching out to grab on to the counter.

The towel falls to the ground and I’m no longer pretending to dry him off. Instead, my hands drag up his legs, sliding up his stomach and holding him to me. I can feel his heart racing beneath my palm. Mine is doing the same. I’m so fucking unsure. All of this is so new to me.

My lips graze the back of his hip, sliding down to his ass cheek once more, and I kiss it softly. Avery is watching me over his shoulder, his eyelids hooded, his wet hair falling across his shoulders.

“Is this good?” I ask, and he nods.

“Fuck yes. I love it. Anything you do to me is good…but Dean, what are you gonna do to me?” he whispers, and I don’t answer because I don’t know.

All I know is I can’t keep kneeling here. My knees hurt on the hard floor and I want him spread out in bed anyway.

So, I kiss his ass once more and then stand up, grabbing his hand and pulling him into my bedroom. He stands there, completely naked, hard and pink all over. I reach out and gently push him down onto the mattress. He falls with a smalloomphand I follow him, bracketing his head with my arms, my body over his.

---