Page 31 of Up In Flames
Everything. I liked everything.
When was the last time I’d made out with a man? Let alone fully clothed. Oren’s hand snaked into my pants, and I groaned when his palm slid over the head of my cock. I was hard enough to hammer nails, and all it took for my cock to start leaking was Oren to pay it the smallest bit of attention.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he confessed, but he didn’t move away from me. His other arm wrapped around me, and his hand slid up and under my shirt. I stopped and pulled it off, nearly desperate to feel more of his skin against mine.
“I promise you’re doing just fine.”
“I want to do better than fine.” Oren pouted.
God, he was ridiculous. A little perfectionist probably. Couldn’t do anything by half measures. Had to give his all to everything he did. He’d probably study me like I was a test he needed to pass.
“Just do what feels good when it’s done to you.”
Oren laughed, brushing his thumb over the head of my cock. Precum leaked and was absorbed by my briefs. “I haven’t been touched in so long I’m shocked my dick didn’t turn to dust.”
“Did you want me to touch you, Oren?” I ground into him. Sliding a leg between his, I pressed my thigh into his dick and let him writhe against me.
“I’d do fucking anything for you to touch me.”
“Where’s your lube?”
Oren tilted his head toward a door. “In there. My bedroom.”
The last time I was with a guy, it had been a quick exchange of blowjobs in a less than sanitary bathroom at a gay club in the next town over. I’d gotten off, but it wasn’t satisfying. I wanted to be more than a means to an end for someone.
I wanted someone to look at me like I mattered. Like they wanted me for longer than an orgasm. Kind of like how Oren was looking at me now, eyes all hooded, his lower lip caged between his teeth.
Leaning in, I brushed my lips against his. His body relaxed against mine, and I gathered him close again, wrapping my arms around him, deepening the kiss. Our tongues tangled until I was short of breath. The room spun when I pulled away. Oren’s fingers slid into my hair, making me shiver as he toyed with the short strands at the back of my neck.
He took initiative and towed me into his bedroom. His room smelled of him, earthy and clean. It was tidy, like the rest of his apartment. A chair sat in the corner with a suit jacket and a tie draped over the back. Polished black shoes were tucked underneath. The laundry basket next to it sat overflowing.
The bed was unmade, and Oren flung the burgundy comforter onto the floor. A bottle of lube sat on the nightstand, and I tried not to obsess about the fact that it was identical to the one sitting on my nightstand at home.
Oren chuckled nervously. “I’m not sure what happens next. Is this where we have the whole who tops who conversation?”
I smirked at him. His lack of knowledge was both sobering and endearing.
“No one will be topping or bottoming today.” Stepping forward, I crowded into his space again. I kept going until he took a step back. His legs hit the mattress, and he sat down.
He stared up at me for a moment, blinking with those round, doe eyes of his. We were roughly the same age, but his lack of experience with men made him seem younger and far more innocent than I had any business being with. Oren moved, stretching out on the bed.
“Will.” A million questions were hidden in his voice, their existence given away by the slight tremor as he breathed out.
The only way I was stopping was if he asked me to. Climbing onto the bed, I straddled him and planted my hands on either side of his head. His hands skated up my thighs, and I watched the way his smile grew the more he touched me. A breath puffed out of him when his hands slid up my chest. He paused at my neck and cradled it in both hands, his fingers twitching. Then his hands slid upward, and he pulled me down to him.
I went willingly, sealing our mouths together. My tongue plunged into his mouth, and his tangled with mine. The grip he had on me tightened, and he writhed underneath me. The sounds he made had my cock leaking. Desperate, I ground against him.
“Oh, fuck,” Oren groaned. “How is that so good?” He laughed and kissed me again, a smile still on his lips as they met mine.
I had no answer for him, so I kissed him again. And then we were both all hands as he shoved at my pants, and I fumbled with his fly. After a hectic few seconds, he was half undressed, his pants down around his thighs. I kicked my pants off the rest of the way. Oren craned his head and reached for the lube, and I took advantage and mouthed his throat, his neck, below his ear.
“Holy fucking shit. You’re going to make me come and you haven’t even touched my dick yet.” There was a desperation in Oren’s laugh that gave away the truth of his words.
I stopped kissing him and sat up. Oren’s gaze raked over my body. I felt it like a caress, trailing down from my lips to my chest, down the line of dark hair that led to my cock. I squirted lube into my hand and then gripped us both at once. Oren’s whole body reacted, his back arching like a bow string. With my other hand, I pressed him down against the mattress again.
He tipped his head back, elongating his neck. I slid my hand up his chest and suppressed the urge to hold his throat in the palm of my hand so I could feel his pulse flutter against my skin. Instead, I cupped his cheek. Tipping his head down, he met my gaze for a brief moment, then I started to stroke.
“Fuck my life, that’s so hot.” Oren blinked and looked down where our dicks were pressed against each other in the tight channel of my fist.
