Page 32 of This or That
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes, Troy. I trust you.”
I suggest getting clean before getting dirty, hoping that the hot water in the adjacent walk-in shower will ease some of his obvious apprehension that is completely natural. He obliges and we make quick work of stripping one another. There are lips. There are teeth. There are fingers.
The glass door is fogged with condensation, enveloping us in an out-of-time moment. Facing his back again, my heart hammers and I kneel. “I’ll make it good for you, okay?”
With my breath on his toned ass, he fidgets and his head swivels to look at me. “Fuck, Troy! Stop teasing me and do whatever you want with me.” His frustrated tone is endearing. “I’m dying here.” Licking his lips, he splays his hands on the shower wall and widens his stance, as if guessing what’s to come.
Incapable of keeping my unspoken promise, I nod nonetheless, then tease his crease with the side of my wet pointer finger. Biting his lips, he stares, mesmerized. His ass cheeks alternatively clench and relax with each stroke, until they settle on the latter. Breaking eye contact to focus on the task at hand, I ignore my swelling hard-on, part his cheeks, and rustle up a grunt. Who cares if the water doesn’t warm my skin? It’s set ablaze when the tip of my greedy tongue probes for entry. Arousal hums in my blood when his body instantly relaxes, allowing my playful tongue to explore, swirl, and pleasure.
In a matter of minutes, his balance shifts, and I realize from the boisterous moaning that his right hand left the wall to jack himself off in sync with my efforts. Spellbound, I cease my TLC to watch him.
He tenses and his lustful eyes shoot daggers. When we first met, I couldn’t have dreamed that this would happen. “Don’t you dare stop!” Mike’s voice is strained.
“Sorry, I got distracted,” I say, smiling brightly, then work him over with one finger before my tongue resumes until his knees wobble.
This time, he tenses for an entirely different reason, so I intensify my rhythm and watch his shoulders ripple. He huffs and puffs, growls out my name, and comes in erratic spurts. I’ll never get tired of bringing this man over the edge. Right after, he takes care of me and round two of scrubbing ensues, in between sloppy kisses, bad jokes, and dirty talk. His oversensitive skin shivers under my touch.
“You’re driving me crazy, Hunter.”
I chuckle at that, kneading his ass. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, Clayton. Come on! Let me get you dry before you get wet for me… again.”
Amused, I watch the naked man pull down the covers, snatch two pillows to place under his head, and lie sunny-side up on the mattress in two seconds flat. He takes one pillow from behind his head, sliding it under the small of his back, and, knees bent, spreads his legs as wide as possible so that I have the perfect view of what he’s offering. This man is going to be the death of me!
“May I ask what triggered this?”
He takes short gulps of air. “Are you fucking kidding me?” His complaint prompts a salacious grin on his face, awakening my flaccid length. “You’ve been rimming my ass for the last half hour.” His chest expands erratically as he catches his breath. “Finish the job, Hunter! Make me come… again.” His hand gestures to show me where he wants me.
One hand on my waist, I take him in and lick my lips. “Bossy much?”
“Seriously?” He wiggles on the mattress, spreading his legs wider. He’s magnificent.
My heart somersaults as I attempt to make sense of the extent of my desire for Mike Clayton. “Good thing I packed condoms and lube, then!” I wink, approaching him with a growing hunger and matching hard-on. “Top left drawer.”
He twists his upper body to get what we need and throws everything next to him on the bed.
“It may not look like it, but I hadn’t planned this, you know. We’re not even gonna discuss who tops—”
“Come on, Troy.” Glee. Irritation. Excitement. “It’s pretty self-explanatory! Right now, that’s how I want you.” Mike, the mind-reader! “This is what got me off when I watched that porn I texted you about.” He snatches the lube, pops the lid, and dribbles a reasonable amount on his middle finger. Then the needy man grins, rubs his semi, and starts fingering himself.
Frozen in place, I cock my head and gulp the lump that’s lodged in my throat. “You’re not playing fair.”
His devilish laughter says it all… Well, almost, since he pants, “I want to watch your fingers stretch me until I scream for more. I want to watch your thick erection slide past the ring of muscle and against my prostate until I see stars. I want to watch you pound into me until I welcome the burn.”
I sprint to the bed, roll down the condom, and lube up; my current state might limit the tenderness I intended for his first time. I scoot closer, between his legs, and position him so that I have easy access to his crease. Then, I follow his instructions to the letter. Eventually, my dick replaces his finger and my hand on his stiffy replaces his. His intoxicating scent makes my head spin.
It’s obvious that I’ve hit the jackpot when his eyes roll back in his head. He growls. “Troy, oh, fuck…” He hisses. “More….” He moans. “Move faster!” Within seconds, he locks his ankles behind me, pulling me closer with each thrust. His command tears me out of my trance.
Soon enough, we’re a hot mess. Covered in sweat. Aching muscles. Raw expletives. At once, a knot of pleasure coils where all my blood has pooled. My grip on him tightens and he claws at the sheet when his orgasm shoots through him. Next, my thigh muscles tremble as I plunge into him. Climax shoots through me, and I spill my pleasure into the condom, buried to the hilt one last time.
“Cuddle whore,” I tease a moment later. Our spent bodies intertwined, I thread my fingers through his hair.
“Who would have thought?” He proudly grins, then his expression changes. “You know you’re not a phase, right?” A sweet kiss lands on my forehead.
Although I avert his gaze, concealing my emotions is useless. I mouth a silent thank you, collecting my thoughts before looking him in the eye. This wonderful man brings out the best in me. I can’t make promises, but there’s no need. We’re good together. “I love what we have, Mike.” Somehow guessing that I’m not quite finished, he nods. I’ll confess my life story tomorrow, but for now, there’s one thing I have to say out loud.
“Our relationship.”
