Page 14 of Sicken of the Calm
“Please, Ezra,” I say, but it hasthe opposite effect. His hand stops. I let out a harsh, frustrated breath.
“What do you want?” he asks,voice low and rough. My head arches backwards, my body clenching and thenrelaxing like he’s still leeching the worry out of me.
“I…” I trail off, and the silencethat follows is solid and waiting. I realize I’ve given myself away; he’s notgoing to do anything until I ask for it. I run my tongue against the roof of mymouth, trying to wet it. Suddenly, I realize.
“Kiss me.”
The hand on me twitches. I’vesurprised him. I’ve asked for too much, I think, squeezing my eyes shut, butthen I hear him shift up the bed. I feel his breath against my lips, smellingof the mango juice I offered him earlier. Unthinkingly, I strain up, and he movesaway. I settle back on the bed. Finally, like he’s waiting to see that I’velearnt my lesson, he comes close again. I can feel the heat of him this close.I want to open my eyes, but this is almost better.
When the contact comes, it’s justa slight pressure of his mouth against mine. I part my lips, but he doesn’ttake advantage. With a softness that mimics the pressure still on my dick, butthat is in complete juxtaposition to the tension in the room, he kisses mylower lip once, twice, three times. It’s slow like he’s savouring the taste,and I breathe into his mouth. I want so badly to lift my hands, to pull himcloser, to slip my tongue against his, but the restraint is its own pleasure.
Finally, finally, he slips histongue inside, a languid roll. My tongue lifts to meet his, and I don’t knowwhy that contact is so electric, but it is. I make a noise, and suddenly he’skissing me for real. He must be leaning his forearm beside my head because hishand is suddenly in my hair, yanking it back. I moan, a loud, startling noise,and he swallows it whole. His tongue is in my mouth like it’s his, like it’salways been his, taking and giving only a burning heat back. The hand in myhair is a tight, painful first and I imagine him pulling the hair out of myskull, cracking me apart, ripping me open from one end to the other and takingeverything he wants.
I’m crazy with it, with him.
He pulls off suddenly and I letout an embarrassing whine, trying to follow him up, but the hand in my hairstops me. I start struggling like a caught animal, the pain on my scalpmagnifying as I try to yank my hair out from his fingers. He holds fast,knowing that’s exactly why I’m doing it – replacing the violence of the kisswith this.
When I still, we are bothpanting. I think to open my eyes and blink at him, see his red and swollenlips, and a rush of lust goes through me. He looks back at me with anexpression I’ve never seen before, ever, like I’m everything he wants.
I’d almost forgotten the hand onmy dick until it starts pressing again, harsher this time. I’ve returned to myobedience and don’t move an inch.
“You could come in your underwearjust from this, couldn’t you?” he asks. I squeeze my closed eyes, clench my fists.I feel embarrassment like a wave through me because he’s right. I’m already soclose.
“Couldn’t you?” he repeats inthat same dark, even tone.
“Yes,” I hiss.
“Look at you,” he says like I’mhis and he’s making a generous offer. My whole body twitches. “So desperate forit, and I’ve barely touched you. Maybe we should have done this in school. Icould have made you come in your pants with half the effort.”
“Ezra,” I say, imagining justthat. It could have happened after a game, maybe, with me covered in sweat andcoursing with the aftermath of adrenaline, still in my uniform pants stainedwith grass. He would have pinned me against a wall, his leg between mine,telling me to rub myself off on him like a dog. I would have been terrified,watching the door to see if someone came in, too desperate to care, to stop. Iwould have gotten on my knees for him. I would get on my knees for him rightnow.
I open my eyes to look at him.Despite the confidence in his words, there’s a sliver of uncertainty in hisexpression, and I get the impression he’s testing the waters, making sure he’snot going too far, that I want this too.
“Please,” I say, and hisexpression clears, replaced a moment later by a slow smile.
He releases my hair and uses bothhands to yank my underwear down, not even waiting for me to lift my hips. I tryto open my legs but can’t, thighs caught in my jeans.
My attention focuses on Ezraagain and I see him licking the palm of his hand. I groan, the heels of my feetdigging into the mattress, the sheet already a mess from my pulling fists, andthen his hand is on me. He sets a ruthless pace right from the start and I givea startled cry, but there is no mercy. The switch in gears is physicallydizzying. He uses his other hand to cup my balls, pulling on them slightly andI’m so close. Fuck,fuck, I’m so close.
“Joaquin,” he says, and it’s allit takes. I arch up as the orgasm hits me, punch after punch of it. I’m makingsome sort of noise, but I’m too far gone to care.
God.God.
I swear I blank out for a moment,just from a bruising kiss and a hand job, like the whole week since the lasttime he made me come was one long foreplay and the final release is too much totake.
I expect to see Ezra rustling aroundin my apartment when I open my eyes, but he’s still sitting beside me on thebed. He has a small, soft smile on his face, and the look is so different fromthe dark one of before that I can’t believe they belong to the same person. Itsends an unknown jolt through me that I don’t want to analyze.
“Ok?” he asks. I nod my head. Hesearches my face for a moment, looking serious, before the smile returns. Helifts the hand that’s not resting palm-up on the thigh beside my spent dick andruns it through my hair, rubbing at the sore spot there. I close my eyes andlet him, feeling the pulses of an ache mixed with lust-less pleasure coursingthrough me.
I open my eyes again when hefinally removes his hand and jerk alert when he makes to get up. I grab hold ofhis arm and he startles, looking back at me. When I’m sure he’s not going toget up, I loosen my grip a little but don’t let go. I look down at the obviousbulge in his jeans. I wet my dry lips.
“Let me help,” I ask. Ezrapauses, opens his mouth, and although I don’t know the reason behind it, I cansee in his eyes he’s about to protest. “Please,” I say. “Just – let me watch.”
Ezra’s mouth closes and, to myrelief, twitches up. I let him go as he stands up. He presses one of his elbowsbeside the button on his jeans and uses his clean hand to unbutton and thenunzips them. He pulls them down, yanking one side and then the other, probablycursing the tightness of them, before they’re low enough to let them drop. Helooks at me then, a slight blush on his cheeks, his boxers straining againsthis dick. Despite the heat on his cheeks, he doesn’t hesitate, moving to thebed and straddling me. I immediately move my hands to hold his slim hips, andhe doesn’t stop me.
“Pull my underwear down,” hesays, and I do it quickly, eagerly, pulling the edge down under his balls,bulging them up slightly. His dick is already hard, long and leaking, and Ican’t help but feel a rush of pleasure at being the one to inspire it.
Ezra looks at me, that same olddarkness a partial eclipse in his eyes as he takes hold of his dick. I realizeit’s the hand with my cooling spunk, and my thumbs press slightly on his hipbones, before rubbing the pressure away. My eyes are trained on his hand, onthe red, veined dick. He’s cut, and the perpetually exposed head appears anddisappears from his fist. I know that my cum, having already cooled, can’toffer the most pleasant of textures, even if it’s insanely hot to see himspread it on his cock.
