Page 22 of Numbers Boy
Soon, his hands are pushing my hoodie and T-shirt up so he gains access to my chest. I force myself to take my hands off him for a few seconds so I can remove the items of clothing altogether. The naked want in Steve’s pretty eyes makes the temporary loss of contact worth it. I can feel my chest puffing out in pride as his pupils grow wider, the green almost overtaken by lust. He runs his hands freely up and down my skin, tracing mytattoos and muscles. He twists on the couch so he’s on his knees facing me while I fiddle with the hem of his shirt.
“Can I?” I ask, pulling a bit harder at the fabric.
“Fuck, yeah,” he breathes, and I slide his shirt up and pull it over his head in one smooth motion. His curls bounce a bit when they pull free, and one hangs impishly across his forehead. I drop his shirt to the side as I get a good look at what I just unveiled.
I’m awestruck by his pale skin, covered in splashes of freckles. The trail that goes down his throat spreads out over his collarbones, and I want to map the path with kisses. But first, I lightly drift one finger along the specks, causing him to shiver. He retaliates by circling one of my nipples and pinching it gently. I hiss and wrap both hands around his back to haul him closer. He eagerly swings his leg over mine to straddle my hips.
We both moan as his warm body collides with mine.
It feels so right to have him there as our chests press together, tattoos flush against freckles, hips aligned.
Steve sinks his hands into my hair and pulls my mouth to his, stopping a fraction of an inch before they touch.
“Best cuddling ever,” he teases before joining our mouths again in a searing kiss.
I huff a laugh and wrap my hands around his hips to steady him, then press him back until he’s lying underneath me on the couch. Knowing how much he seems to like it when I touch him, I want to take my time exploring his body inch by inch. To soften him up until he’s a puddle of pure pleasure.
As we continue to make out, tongues caressing and quiet moans being exchanged, I slide my hands down further, slipping them under his jeans to cup his ass. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but based on his lean frame and usual baggy pants, it wasn’t the perfectly round peach that fills my palms.
“Fuck, Steve,” I groan, fingertips digging in to test the give of his sweet ass.
He giggles against my lips, and the sound combined with the feel of him in my hands somehow hits perfectly in the moment, causing my desire to skyrocket.
“You’re not the only one hiding things under their winter clothes.”
“Damn, that’s sexy.” I pull him tighter against me, encouraging him to rock his hips against mine. I can feel his hard length through our jeans, and I grind my hips down, trying to increase the friction.
Steve slides one hand from its spot in my hair and starts exploring my chest again. All the while, I never stop the motion of my hips. Steve moves along with me, meeting me thrust for thrust but never trying to take over. It feels like he’s melting into the couch, and I love that I can make him this pliant, that he can just lie back and enjoy what we’re doing. His auburn curls are spilling over the couch cushion, fanning around him like a crown. His hooded eyes look up at me in a hazy, lust-filled expression, but I want to make him feel even better. Want him to relax fully while I make him feel amazing.
I lean forward and press kisses along his jaw, slightly rough stubble contrasting enticingly with the smoothness of his skin. He smells like bergamot, a bright burst of citrus in the darkness of winter. I chase the brightness with little licks and open-mouthed kisses. When my lips find that tempting trail of freckles, I kiss and nip them until I’m nibbling on his collarbone. Just like the rest of him, it looks dainty and delicate at first glance, but it’s solid under my mouth.
“More,” he gasps, hips stuttering when I graze my teeth a bit harder along the bone. I do it again, and Steve drops his head back with a drawn-out hiss. “Just like that.”
My cock throbs at the delicious sounds he’s making, and I want him closer.
“Too many clothes,” I pant. “Please, Princess.”
I don’t even know what I’m asking for, but Steve doesn’t wait for me to specify. He freezes for just a moment, so briefly that I barely notice, then nods as he runs a hand down my torso, perfectly manicured nails scraping lightly along my sides and making my muscles quiver. I take that as my go-ahead and pull back enough to slide my hands free. When I get them between us, I pop his jeans button open and then do my own. My gaze takes in his light blue briefs, bulging against where his length is straining to be let free. My own erection is straining against my plain black boxer briefs, but that can wait. What matters right now is the beautiful man spread out underneath me. I press the palm of my hand to his shaft over his briefs and rub the pad of my thumb in little circles across the wet spot on the fabric, causing him to groan and buck his hips slightly.
“You like that, Princess?” I ask, watching his lust-darkened eyes flash with want. He nods shakily, and I feel a strong wave of possession and accomplishment roll through me. “Good. Me too.”
I continue to play with him, alternating between stroking him and lining my erection up with his to rut them together. Soon, we’re both panting and frotting in unison. One of my hands has migrated to his hair, caressing the soft, sweet curls. The other is now under his briefs, cupping that perfect peach and teasing his crease.
“Close,” he warns and leans in for another heart-pounding kiss. I moan my agreement and pull his full bottom lip into my mouth as I press more firmly on his ass. I fuck my hips against him until I can’t hold back anymore. Needing him to come first, I slip one finger further into his crease and ghost it over his pucker. Steve tenses underneath me with a soft moan, and I canfeel wet heat through his briefs. That sensation pushes me over, and my orgasm crashes into me as spurts of cum coat the inside of my underwear. I rock us both slowly through our aftershocks until I’m too sensitive to keep going.
“Fuck, Princess, that was amazing.”
“Agreed,” he sighs dreamily.
His head lolls back, and I look down to see his half-lidded emerald eyes gazing up at me, a satisfied expression on his face. His curls are a mess, and his lip gloss is gone, long since kissed off. He’s never looked better. Unable to resist, I lean down and press a kiss to his throat.
I wrap my arms around him, hoping to keep this sated feeling alive a little longer. But soon, a chill causes Steve to shiver against me. I think about just covering us with a blanket, but with cum drying quickly in our clothes, I know we should get up.
“Let’s go wash up,” I say quietly, not wanting to completely break the postcoital bubble that’s cocooned itself around us. “Then we can come back and cuddle some more.”
“More cuddling, huh?” he asks with a naughty grin, and I give his hip a tiny swat as I pull us upright on the couch.
“Actual cuddling this time. It’s been a while since I’ve had that good of an orgasm, and I think you wore me out,” I say around my chuckle.
