Page 34 of These Wicked Games
I swallow, hearing them get onto the bed. Soft moans weave through the room. “Condoms?” I hear the guy he’s with ask. Andre rolls, opening a drawer and rustling around. “Oh fuck.”
I squeeze my comforter in my hands. I need to move. My chest feels tight. I’m turned the other way, but I hate that my mind is trying to fill in the blanks.
My cock is hard.
This is fucking dumb. I’d thought sleeping with someone the other night would have helped this tightness I feel all the fucking time. It’s like my body’s in a constant state of unrest and I don’t know what to do about it.
Swallowing hard, I dare to roll just a little onto my back. A louder moan echoes from the other bed. “You have to be quiet,” Andre chuckles.
“Sorry.” He laughs softly. “Your dick feels so good.”
I can’t fucking help myself. It’s like my brain is on autopilot and I can’t figure out how to put it back in manual. I roll over, and luckily the AC I have on masks any sound. It’s still dark, but I can see shadows moving through the darkness. Straining my eyes, I see the guy he’s with moving on top of him. While I’ve always known Andre is queer, seeing it in action is doing things to my lungs. I can’t breathe. “Fuck, right there.”
“You feel so good.” Moaning, grunting, the sounds of skin, the bed moving slightly.
My cock aches.
It’s just the sex noises. It’s just sex noises.
It’s not Andre.
Reaching down, dipping inside my sleep pants, I stroke myself slowly, feeling the slightest bit of relief. Fuck this, I have to do something. This burning tightness in my chest only amplifies. I need to snuff the fire out somehow.
“I need it.” I close my eyes, and the sounds wrap around my cock. I start to stroke, needing this tightness to let go. I need relief.
“Ride me,” I hear him moan.
My hand picks up speed and I hate myself for the images that spring to mind. Andre on the dance floor, that man’s hand down his pants, then him on his knees. In the shower, his cock hanging between his legs. He’s bigger than I am, and I can’t help but think about what’s he’s doing with it now. Fucking that guy. The grunts and moans crescendo with the speed of my hand.
I’ve clearly gone insane because I think about it, being Andre right now.
Only it’s him riding me. I don’t know if I’d want to be fucked. I shouldn’t want any of it, but here in the safety of darkness I can’t help letting my intrusive thoughts bleed into my mind. I imagine his skin, slick with sweat. His hair piled on top of his head, some strands falling out of his signature bun. Those piercing hazel eyes dripping with need as he grinds on top of me.
I’m fucking broken and I don’t even care.
I watch them in the dark and picture it vividly in my mind, what it would be like. Rolling his hips back, Andre would lace his fingers around his cock, stroking himself as he traps me in his heat. My hand picks up. My other hand snakes down, slowly cupping my balls—so heavy, so full. I squeeze, biting back a groan. My body is trembling. “Oh fuck, Andre,” his date moans louder. Andre doesn’t tell him to be quiet, though. His own breathing picks up, skin slaps faster. “I’m coming. I’m fucking—oh my god,” his date whines. Andre groans, skin hits hard. His date cries out softly, then apologizes behind what sounds like Andre’s hand.
When I imagine what’s happening it’s not Andre’s hand over his mouth, it’s my fingers around Andre’s throat, squeezing as I make him come all over my chest. “Fuck,” I hiss, and my eyes widen but I can’t stop. I shake in this bed, trying to contain my noises and the relief that crashes over me. Breathing heavily, I try to stay quiet.
“Fuck,” Andre breathes, then I hear kissing. Tiny moans float through the room. “So damn good for me.” For a sickening second I think he’s talking to me.
"Was I too loud?"
"You were perfect." The sounds of kissing fill the space between us.
I hear his date giggle. “Please let me stay?” he whispers. “I need more.” I see the guy lifting off him and dropping down next to him, but Andre gets up.
The guy hesitates a moment before following him, and Andre chuckles. “I have to get to sleep. Early flight.” That’s a lie, we aren’t leaving until the afternoon. Some of the guys have family here and will be gone in the morning. We leave at nearly four in the afternoon.
“Fine,” I hear the other guy sigh. I see them standing together, kissing in the shadows. “Safe flight.”
“Get home safe,” Andre whispers, walking him to the door. It snicks shut and I hear him go to the bathroom, shutting the door. After a moment the shower turns on, then I hear the shower curtain. I get up, going to my duffel bag and grabbing a new pair of boxers. I peel my sticky ones off, cleaning myself up the best I can, and when I hear the water turn off I practically dive back into bed, pulling the covers up around me.
After a few more minutes Andre comes out of the bathroom, a sweet-smelling cloud of steam leaking from the bathroom door making my dick twitch.Seriously, you need to get your shit together!
I barely breathe as he gets into his bed. My heart is jackhammering against my chest right now. The AC kicks on with a hum. “Sweet dreams, Oli.” I can almost see the smile on his face.
Fuck.
