Page 47 of Wrap Around
After pulling on my pajama pants, I clean up our mess. I throw away the discarded lube packet and wipe down the desk. The to-go container with the sandwich I brought him back from dinner got knocked onto the floor and busted open, so it's no good anymore. After I pick up the mess and toss it in the trash, I sit around for a while and wait, but I kind of have to use the bathroom. I pull on a sweater and my shower slides and wonder if I should leave a note before I head to the lobby. There's a notepad and pen next to the phone, so I write the words "bathroom & snacks" and leave it where I hope he'd see it if he gets out before I come back.
My butt is sore. I suppose that's probably normal. I wouldn't really know. I've done a fair amount of research, both for informative purposes and entertainment. I know enough that I was worried about my lack of prep, but I wasn't about to stop whatwas happening once it started. Honestly, I was kind of afraid to. He was terrifying in the most arousing way possible.
So, yeah, maybe I should have said something, but I didn't want to interrupt whatever scary sex-god thing he had going on. And I also didn't want him to know it was my first time. It was very obviouslynothis first time, which I don't particularly want to think about too much. But I figure if he was worried about anything, he'd ask. I don't know what the protocol is!
Everything comes out okay enough. Lube is messy, though. I've never had that much inside me, or that far inside me, if we're being specific.
On my way back to the room, I stop at the vending machines to get a few bottles of water and some snacks that neither of us would normally eat. We need to talk, though, and chocolate is a good conversation starter. It works for Lily, maybe it'll work on her brother.
I nearly drop everything when Gideon comes barreling around the corner, wearing nothing but basketball shorts and an inside-out shirt that looks like he put on wet. His hair is still dripping, and he's not wearing shoes.
"Are you okay?" I ask, just as he says, "Where the fuck were you?"
I hold up my arm full of snacks, and he looks at me like I'm insane before turning on his heel and stomping back to the room. He holds the door open for me, though, so that's something.
Dumping everything in my arms on his bed, I take two of the bottles of water and a pack of cookies and move to sit on my bed. I wait patiently while Gideon continues to stare at me like I've grown an extra head.
"There's another pack of Oreos in there," I say, gesturing to the pile of junk food. "I know we have a game tomorrow, but I figured you probably haven't eaten, and the sandwich I brought youdidn't survive. There's some trail mix in there, too, but honestly, there weren't many options that weren't nothing but sugar and trans fats."
I realize I'm rambling and take a breath. "Can we talk?"
"I'm not sure we should."
I'm not sure what he means, so I convey my feelings on the matter by staring at him until he breaks.
"I obviously can't trust myself. What I almost did– What Ididdowas–"
"–entirely consensual," I finish for him. "I'm a big boy, Gideon. I can make decisions for myself."
"But you haven't bottomed before," he says, like it's obvious.
I suppose it wasobvious, which is why we're here talking about it and not basking in the afterglow. It's mortifying. I put conscious effort into not blushing so we can talk about this like grown adult men and not pre-pubescent teens who giggle or get embarrassed by words like penis and butthole.
"No, I haven't." I also haven't topped before, but I'm keeping that little tidbit to myself unless the information is specifically asked for or required. That's none of anyone's business for now.
"Why did you let me do that?"
"Because I wanted to," I say honestly. "Because it's you and I've always–"
Apparently my honesty is a little too much, because Gideon holds up a hand and pleads for me to stop.
"Do you know how badly I could have hurt you?"
I scoff, wanting to make a joke out of how highly he clearly thinks of himself, but his expression stops me. He's right that thisisn't funny. Resorting to humor isn't going to keep him talking to me.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I didn't want you to stop."
The look he gives me is both incredulous and pained.
"It's not like I didn't know it would hurt. I'm not an idiot, despite what you seem to think of me right now. But it's going to happen someday, or at least I hoped it would."
"So, what, an opportunity presented itself and you just thought you'd get it over with?"
"An opportunity withyoupresented itself, and I've spent my entire life trying to get closer to you. So yes, I took the opportunity. And maybe it wasn't how I imagined it, but it was something."
"You should have told me–"
