Page 56 of Gay for Pray
He whimpers, telling me my words are striking the right chord. I keep my fingers pumping as I ramble praise at him, and he starts fumbling for his cock.
“C-Can I?” he asks.
I’ve never been asked that in a situation like this. It’s kind of been a foregone conclusion, but Theo isn’t simply asking permission; he’s also asking if this is the way gay sex is done. God, there is so much to show him, so much to explore. Myheart swells with the thought of spending a lifetime showing him everything he’s been missing.
“Yes, baby,” I say. “Yes, touch yourself. Go on. You earned it.”
He grabs himself instantly, moaning from the feel of his own hand. He pumps hard and fast, and I follow him. I try to match my fingers to his rhythm, but he’s so frantic and frenzied that I struggle to keep up. His heat wraps around me, his ass clenching with every new beat of pleasure that flashes through him. He’s burning up, arching on the bed, stroking himself so fast it’s almost dangerous. The pleasure barrels through his handsome features, twisting them into an even more beautiful version of the Theo I get to see any other time. He squirms, working himself on my fingers, clutching me tighter, gasping and gasping but never catching his breath as the crest builds inside him. I plunge and pet and pump, giving him everything I can—and finally he breaks.
He cries out at the ceiling of my bedroom loud enough that anyone living above, below or beside me must hear it. Cum splatters his torso and chest. Spasms seize my fingers. I watch it all play out, enthralled by the ecstasy softening his face and body.
He sinks back down to the bed with a long sigh, as though he’s been holding his breath all this time. I slide my fingers out before it can get uncomfortable for him and grab a towel off the floor. He doesn’t move as I clean him up, naked and languid in my bed. My jeans are so tight it verges on painful, but I don’t strip down as I lie beside him while he cools off.
“What can I do for you?” he says after only a few breaths.
He’s way too wrung out to immediately leap up and ravish me, as much as I’d love that. “You can lie there and look hot as hell.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, but after that.”
“After that, we’ll figure it out. We don’t need a plan for everysecond of this.”
I realize too late that I’m talking about more than how he’ll pleasure me. I’m talking about this, our lives, our futures, this big, huge thing we’re embarking on together.
Theo seems to realize that too. He pulls me in against him and kisses the top of my head.
“Okay,” he says, “we’ll figure it out later. Whenever we’re both ready.”
Chapter Thirty
Theodore
AS WE SIT IN a parking lot I know way too well, Jude reaches over the gearshift and takes my hand.
“We don’t have to do this, you know,” he says.
I take a steadying breath. We’re near the back of the lot, well behind the regulars who always take the front spots. Usually I’m one of those regulars, but a lot has changed in the past few months. Now I’m at the back of the lot, an outsider existing on the edges. Maybe this is where I’ve always belonged. My heart skips when I think about being pushed even farther away, but there’s no turning back now. I’ve made up my mind, and I’m not going to run from it anymore.
“No,” I say, “I want to do this.”
“Then I’m with you,” Jude says.
I gaze into his eyes, drawing strength from his placid smile. I let myself lean over and taste his lips, and when we part, I think maybe I really can do this.
We get out of the car and head for the church at the other end of the parking lot.
We don’t hold hands, but I catch more than one churchgoer glancing our way. As we step out of the sunlight and into the cooler shade of the church, a wave of vertigo washes over me, my worlds colliding like trains calamitously placed on the same track. These two pieces of me were never supposed to meet, but here I am leading my boyfriend to a pew near the middle of thechurch where my father is a deacon.
People file into the pews. I sit close beside Jude, both of us keeping our hands in our laps, trying not to shift and fidget too much. The space around us prickles. It’s like there’s a force field pushing everyone else away. The service hasn’t even begun, and I already want to run.
“May we sit?”
I jerk my head up too quickly to find Mrs. McOwen and her husband standing at the end of our empty pew. The older couple have been coming to this church for longer than I’ve been alive. Even when Mr. McOwen had to start using a cane, they’ve never missed Sunday Mass.
I’m too startled to speak. I simply nod, and Jude and I shuffle over to make room for the couple. They sit beside us without a hint of strangeness or curiosity. In fact, it’s several minutes before Mr. McOwen reaches past me to offer his hand to Jude.
“Always nice to see a new face at Mass,” he says.
Jude shakes with a smile. “Happy to be here, sir.”
