Page 18 of Ship of Fools

“I like you. I think I even like the real you.”

“What am I like in your fantasies then?” I smile through my fingers, and let him kiss me. I kiss him back too. Lots.

“You are pretty much like this, just, in my fantasies you are madly in love with me. You know...and even brattier….”

“And I fulfil all your sexual needs. What are they, by the way? What are you into?”

“I’ll let you do anything to me,” he says quietly. Luca Germano is full of shit. Because honestly?

“You would let me do you?”

“If that’s what you want, then yeah.”

“Bullshit. You are the least bottomy bottom I have ever met.”

“I have bottomed. I just... I like topping.”

“I prefer to bottom. I just like it, as long as the top knows what they are doing. But, you know, I’ll take it anyway it comes…”

He laughs, and I realise, it’s a life-changing realisation, because it sure feels like it. I’m doing it again. I just bend over backwards for other people, over and over again. I feel like crying. I feel like kissing him, so I grab his neck and lunge at him. I kiss his stupid lips, I kiss his stupid face, and he laughs under my assault, and I laugh back into his mouth.

I’ve been so stupid. Well, I knew that already, always pleasing other people, looking for sex and then getting myself nothing in return.

“If I tell you what I am into, would you hate me?”

“Why would I hate you? I already told you, that I saw you and fell in love. That hasn’t changed. It wouldn’t change, just because you told me you hate blow jobs, or refuse to ever rim me.”

“You fell in love with me without even saying a word to me. Well apart from‘No!’And anyway, I love giving head, and I don’t mind rimming, you know, maybe in the shower. Do you like it?”

“I said no, because I didn’t want to be one of your one-night-stands,” he says quietly. “I want to be more than that.”

“I never stay the night when I hook up with blokes—”

He interrupts me with his hand over my mouth. “I don’t want to know about other blokes.”

“Sorry,” I whisper. “I want to stay with you, here. I always bottom, I really don’t top, at all. I tried, but I get all awkward, and it’s hard work and I worry about not coming to the point of faking it, and then people…”

He covers my mouth again, letting his fingers trace my lips and his mouth kiss my forehead. “Do you come just from being fucked?” He says, “...or do you need my hand too? Or I can fuck you until you are almost there and then suck you off. I want you to enjoy this, and it’s no fun for me if you’re not enjoying it.”

“I’ll enjoy it.” I reassure him, wrapping my legs around his body.

“I don’t want to hurt you. Ever.”

Here come the tears again. Nobody has ever said that to me. Usually it’s more of a,“Buckle up, babe, and take my huge cock,”kind of crap that blokes spill out as they press bruises into my hips. Instead I am lying here in a boneless, beating-heart, emotional puddle as Luca strokes my cheeks. Kisses my forehead. Lets his fingers move a stray curl out of my face.

“You’ll get sick and tired of me one day.” I say. Self-preservation, I suppose, because this? This is unreal. This is the kind of thing that happens to other people.

“Never.” He kisses me again. And again.

He produces a tube of lube from seemingly nowhere, which makes me giggle, as he lubes up his fingers, almost too methodically.

“Are you alright with me touching you?” He asks, and all I can do is nod.

This, is so out of my comfort zone. Yet, I think I might be loving every second. He strokes my back, then my butt and then down my arse, and almost expertly manoeuvres me around until he’s spooning me. It’s a new position for me, but it kind of works, with him being a bit taller, and he tips my chin so he can kiss me as his fingers slowly rub up and down between my legs. I’ll have lube everywhere at this rate, but I don’t care, because he’s gentle, soothing and stroking, adding a bit more lube as he raises my leg up to my chest, and I just lie there letting myself be pampered with kisses and little giggles. He knows what he’s doing, and fuck everything. He presses a finger inside of me, and I moan like I’m having an orgasm. I’m not, not yet, but I have a feeling he will have me tipped over the edge in no time. Then there are two fingers, and I tense up for a second, as he kisses me and tells me to relax. He’s not going to hurt me.

“I’m... nervous,” suddenly spills out, and just saying it out loud? I never do. I let people do what they want to me. I suddenly don’t know why. Why?

“I think you are perfect. I know that sounds crazy, but I do. I’ve been dreaming of doing this to you,forever. So, don’t be nervous, because all I want is for you to lie here and…”

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