Page 43 of Off the Rim
A small breath leaves me, although I'm unsure if it's relief or disappointment.Wait… he thinks my hole is pretty?
I groan as Marcus circles his hips, lining up his cock between my cheeks like a salacious hotdog and bun. He thrusts into me, rubbing between my ass cheeks. Every time his shaft rubs over my hole, I clench and release, imagining myself begging for him to take me.
Marcus repositions, pressing my legs together and sliding his cock between them. Every stroke of his cock rubs along the underside of my balls, sending a spark of pleasure through my body, a restless ache building in my pelvic bones. I rock back against him, seeking more friction, trying to hold back my pants so I can hear the slapping of our bodies meeting.
I moan his name, needing… something. "Marcus. I need…nyuungh?—”
My words turn into intelligible grunts and whines as Marcus' hand wraps around my cock. He thrusts into me, pushing my hips forward, making me thrust into his hand. Impatiently, I put my hand over his and guide him to stroke me faster, all the while pushing myself back on his cock, watching it appear and disappear between my legs. I bend forward more, reaching between my legs to try to stroke him. Both of our cocks end up in my hand, although I can't quite get my fingers to close around both of them at the odd angle. A spasm of pleasure that almost takes me out at the knees, and the way Marcus moans, lets me know it’s working well enough.
The head of Marcus' cock massages my balls and the underside of my dick, and I stroke back with each of his forward thrusts. The friction makes suds from the soap build, making thingsslippery and squelchy. Marcus' fingers dig into my hips as he grinds against me, his movements getting faster.
"Fuck, Ash. I'm getting close…"
"God, yes. Please."
"I need you to come?—”
"You first. I want to feel it on me."
Marcus growls and grinds into me harder, his big cock jerking as he starts to come.
"Oh,fuck!" I call out, my vision nearly whites out as his teeth clamp down on my shoulder blade, and warmth explodes between my thighs. It drenches my balls and hand, adding extra lube to my movements as I stroke myself furiously, following him over the edge. I buck and rock against him as Marcus holds me flush against his body, licking the spot he bit to soothe the bite he made. Every swipe of his tongue over the sore flesh sends another aftershock straight to my balls.
We're still for several moments, enough that I can feel Marcus' rapid heartbeat against my back where he's still pressed against me. His softening cock falls from between my legs, and he steps away. He adjusts the water, which has been running cold this entire time, and steps under the spray. Once he rinses the soap and cum from his crotch, he bends to pick up his shorts and underwear, which are laying in a wet pile on the ground. He wordlessly moves towards the door, but pauses and looks back at me.
I'm unsure what to do or say, or how to navigate the situation. I'm still reeling from being coated in his cum once again.
Ears red and an unsure expression on his face, Marcus steps up to me and raises up on his toes to press a kiss to my cheek.
"Happy Thanksgiving," he whispers.
And then he leaves.
CHAPTER 23
MARCUS
As expected, the house is empty when I arrive home. I sort of lied to Ashton. I am spending Thanksgiving at Mom and Greg's house, but I'm the only one here. My aunt Susan is sick, so the family is going to her for the holiday. I normally would join them, but our break is too short to make a flight worth it. We have to be back on campus tomorrow evening to catch the bus to the airport for our first away games. Most of the players went home this past weekend after our game against Charleston Southern, but the last thing Susan needs is another person crowding her house when she's been dealing with bad headaches and fatigue. My mom and Greg will take care of her and keep her company, and in the meantime, I’ve been able to get some extra study time in. Or at least try to, with the massive distraction that is Ashton James sitting near me.
Not to mention that I'm not really in a good place to be around a lot of people, especially people that show their love by being nosey as hell. I'm pretty sure Sean knows something is up, because I abruptly hung up a video call with him last week when Ashton showed up to my dorm to see if I wanted to go get food. I've been avoiding his calls and texts, which I'm sure is only making him more suspicious.
I would have stayed on campus, but I had an odd memory the other night when Ashton and I were talking about our parents and our guesses about what caused them to hate each other. It was a memory of a box I'd found in the back of a closet, and finally gathering the courage to ask my dad about what was in it. I wasn't afraid of how he'd react, but I knew I shouldn't have been snooping. I was just curious, especially considering everything that had happened recently with AJames Enterprises being responsible for my father losing his business. I knew it was raw, and he was exhausted, but my brain couldn't let it go.
We were on the driveway playing basketball, which was where we took all our big conversations. It's where we had every hard or awkward talk, where we shook off our stress and growing pains. It's where I came out, and where he first told me that his business, his passion that he had put so much into, was closing. A lot of my memories take place on that driveway.
“You wanna talk about it?”
“What’s that?”
“Whatever it is that’s got you in your head.”
I nod and think about how to ask. “Um… Remember the other day, I was organizing the closet to add all your work files? I found some pictures of you and grandma, and some people I didn't recognize." I don't mention the cease and desist letter. "I wasn't trying to snoop," I say quickly.
"I know you weren't, and even if you were, that's pretty normal. I wasn't trying to hide that box from you, exactly. More like I was hiding it from myself, if I'm being honest."
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."
Dad cocks his head and wrinkles his nose. "You're a good kid, Marc. And I appreciate your thoughtfulness. But I can tell you're dying to ask, so go ahead. I'll tell you what I can."
