Page 85 of Forever Not Yours

He didn’t move.

Sometimes he didn’t need to. Sometimes he would furiously jerk himself off, even with just my fingers inside of him. Other times, he’d just suddenly shake, almost violently, orgasming onto his stomach without any contact. Sometimes I sucked him off. Other times, like this, I doubted he was even bothered aboutcoming at all. He just wanted this, being lost in his head, knowing there was nothing in the world he needed to care about. Just existing. Feeling. Letting me help him stay right there floating in his own little haze.

My hand was now sliding in and out. More lube, a few more desperate jerks. I was close, so bloody close, revelling in the sight of him, those small squelching sounds my hand made him make. In and out. Twisting. Feeling every little warm crevice. Softness. Wetness. Warmth. Him.

The sounds he made were intoxicating, the desperate moans and syllables he was singing out. The way his toes curled. How his feet pushed against the bedposts, spread out like this, which was why I’d chosen this bed. Practical and perfect. Just like him.

My hand flew over my length, my fingers working their magic, while he lazily stroked his dick, soft movements, almost dreamlike as he suddenly shook and his back arched up, forcing me to move with him. His dick released a squirt of white, a wet pool against his stomach, running slowly to the side as he arched again, a desperate whine coming from his mouth as Islowly pulled out and allowed him this. The release, and relief.

His breaths were far too fast, like he’d run and exhausted himself. Well, he had. This wasn’t something for everyone. This was a workout in patience and skill, in being able to trust and relax. A little light chemical relief. Add to that a generous dollop of weird kinks that I was starting to realise were okay. A part of who I was. Who we were.

I was exhausted too, my own orgasm almost an afterthought, having spectated the deliciousness of his. I was wrung out, slumped on the floor by his feet, trying to get back into some kind of functioning state.

I need to clean up, clean him up, but I was still too lost to care.

His quietness calmed me. Rest. He’d need it, and so would I, but neither of us was in a state to actually do just that.

“Jake?” His voice was gruff.

“Hang on. Let me just… I’ll bring a towel.”

Not just any towel. One I had soaking in the sink. I forced myself up on my feet, stumbling awkwardly out into the kitchen. Flossie stared at me withdisinterest from her bed. Gloves off and in bin, a thorough wash of my hands in the right sink, I poured boiling water into the soak on the left, checked the temperature and wrung out a couple of handtowels. Warm, and soaked in soothing intimate lotion, they would not only clean him up but heal his skin, reduce the burn, allow him to rest in comfort.

“When we move into a house, we need one room to play in and then have a bedroom for sleeping so you can just carry me to bed and let me sleep this off.”

He was still delirious, lying there spreadeagled on the rubber sheet.

“Roll a little to the side?” I suggested. Bunching up a hot towel in my hands, I smoothed it over his forehead and gave him a soft kiss. “Just going to clean you up, then I’ll get you a snack and put you to bed.”

“Just a nap,” he huffed out. “Don’t let me sleep too long.”

“Nah.”

I wiped down his chest, his long slender arms, the gorgeous curves of his shoulders, down his back, where the sweat had transferred onto the sheets. I needed to get better ones. Perhaps disposable ones.Cleaning these was quite the chore. Disinfectant. I hated the smell of it.

“This is nice,” he mumbled, snuggling into the pillow.

“How do you feel?” I asked gently. I was so goddamn proud of him.

“Wrung out.” He smiled. “That was…intense.”

“It usually is. It’s not quite normal to have a hand up your anal passage, but yeah. It’s intense.”

“It was…good. Different. I’m glad we went all the way this time.”

“I knew you could do it. It was just a matter of time.”

“Well, not really. A bit of willpower. And a promise of a good orgasm. Also? It’s fun. I like spending time with you, doing things like this.”

“Fucking.”

“Of course. Fucking. But. You know. Talking. Laughing. Having you give me a nice, heated bed bath.”

“Spoilt.”

“I am spoilt, and worth it.”

“Of course you are.”

---