Page 37 of Rules of Play

His words sparked in me something that felt oddly similar to what it felt like when he put his tongue against my hole. New and bold and beautiful.

“How do you feel after…the first time?” he asked.

“I…”I’m alright.I lifted my hand and cupped his cheek. Did I want to be cool at the expense of being honest? No. Not with Patrick. “I’ve never felt this good in my life, Patrick.”

He exhaled with such relief that I sent a thankful prayer to any god listening for making me choose honesty. He leaned in, slamming his lips against mine like we were at the peak of passion and kissing me for a long while. When he pulled back, he was still smiling. “I was afraid I’d freak out. Or hurt you. Or that you’d want it the other way around, and I’d freak out again. Fuck, this was lucky.”

I nodded. Doing it the other way around was an interesting idea but not one I would have leaped on. “Lucky.”

He kissed me again, softly, then hopped out of the bed. He dragged me with him, still half-hard and covered in cum. “Let’s shower together. I wanna see you covered in foam.”

I barked out a laugh. Hadn’t we just had sex? If he was insatiable, I was twice as lucky as I’d thought.

It didn’t take asking me twice to get me to follow.

THIRTEEN

PATRICK

It wasn’t a sinkingfeeling that woke me up. It wasn’t a bolt of fear, either. I might have expected something along those lines. Hell, a week ago, I had very much imagined it playing out that way, blinking myself awake to see the size of my horny mistake. It wouldn’t have been the first time. I’d woken up with after-sex guilt more than a few times in my Casanova phase, and I had no reason to think the phase was behind me.

Except, as the silk curtain of sleep pulled away, and my conscious mind seeped in, my heart didn’t clench with regrets.

I opened my eyes to a crisp, sunny morning in a house in Detroit, in a bed so warm that it begged me to stay longer, with my arm draping Shane’s naked body. Yesterday, waking up in a fairly similar spot, I had been flooded with embarrassment, thinking if I’d made him uncomfortable, if I’d had a few accidental—though perfectly natural!—hard-ons through the night.

No embarrassment now. We both lay naked, and the memory of last night was imprinted deeply into my mind. It was so fresh and colorful that it was still before my eyes.

The comforter was low on our bodies, draping us up to our waists, and I focused my gaze on the back of Shane’s head.Dark hair covered the top of his head messily, and the fade on the sides was disappearing slowly as new hair grew. Below, his neck was smooth and creamy, extending to his shoulders and his pronounced shoulder blades.

I moved my left arm back, though it still rested over his body, and ran the back of my index finger over Shane’s sharp cheekbone, his smooth cheek, and his long neck. I turned my hand over and let my fingertips travel over his chest.

When I shut my eyes, all I saw was that pained, blissful expression on Shane’s face. In the moment of ecstasy, like Saint Sebastian pierced by the arrows, he had looked deep into my eyes, lips parting to let out a small, choked sound, muscles tensing in the instant before he came.

I never wanted to forget it. The mere thought of it made me heat up a little. Something fuzzy grew in my chest, and tingling shot down into my stomach. My dick woke up, too, and grew harder until it pressed right between Shane’s cheeks.

My hand moved over his abs just as his breathing changed. He didn’t turn around. He didn’t say anything, but I knew he was awake. And as my hand traveled up and down his flat stomach, Shane’s hand covered mine.

He didn’t direct it, merely followed where it went, and offered no objections when it went lower.

Partly, it was curiosity. Last night, I’d had a beer or two to celebrate the game, and I had been driven wild by the weeks of unintended teasing. This morning, he was here, ready for me and willing, and I needed to know what that did to my heart.

It turns out it did wonders. My pulse quickened as my fingers passed over his abdomen and found that he was just as hard. Breath hitched in his throat and he thrust his ass a few inches back at me.

The footsteps, the clamoring, the clinking of cutlery were enough of an indicator that the house was well awake andgearing up to be vacated, but I didn’t fuss. I took my time, feeling Shane’s thighs, cupping his balls, touching his hardened taint before finally lifting my hand and closing it around his cock.

It struck me as strange again to hold it so. The only dick I’d touched before had always been mine. It was much more appealing than I would have imagined. It fit in so perfectly that my body melted with heated desire.

I pressed myself harder against him. Our bodies squished together, my dick between his cheeks, my fist moving up and down his cock. I wanted to be even closer, wanted to crawl under his skin, wanted us to merge both spiritually and literally, but there was no time.

Shane shifted a little and pressed his ass harder against me, giving me an eye-popping sensation to hold on to. He moaned once or twice as my fist sped up, working his cock the only way I knew how—the way I would have done to myself. Easy, slowly, then a little faster. My grip tightened on him, feeling that irresistible pulse of excitement in him, and I relaxed it again. It was a little like playing music. You couldn’t go all in with one gigantic crescendo. You couldn’t step on a stage before an orchestra and just play that final, satisfying chord. It wasn’t satisfying without the buildup. The longer the journey, the more winding the road, the sweeter the destination.

I swayed my hips back and forth incrementally. Each thrust made me harder, each taking my breath away a little more.

As each second ticked away, I possessed less and less control over myself. It was like a flaying of resistance and composure. They flaked away, then scattered altogether. As if something snapped inside us both, the tormenting, teasing moves were no longer even possible. It had to be rougher. We had to be closer. I needed to get us over that hill, over the edge of that canyon, and into the free fall.

My body worked harder. My arm burned, first hurting, but I jerked him off just the same, bringing the tension to an impossible level all the while my dick slid under an excruciating angle, thrusting down between his cheeks.

It wasn’t the fact that I was touching him so liberally or that his ass was just that good, but a shuddering whimper that left his lips that tipped me over. My dick stiffened and throbbed, spilling cum over his ass in an endless trickle.

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