Page 75 of Gym Bros
“Yes, and I also know I’m way out my league.”
“You’re only allowed to kiss me again if you never say that kind of shit.”
“You don’t like being judged on your looks or your job?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
“Neither do I.”
“Mm…Samuel…good line. But this isn’t the way to get to know me.”
My erection doesn’t care. “Have you ever heard the expression, hook up first, ask questions later?”
He laughs. “No.”
“It’s new,” I tell him, gently lowering my body on top of his, careful to keep at least half my weight off him.
I’m surprised when he runs a hand over my head. “You’re hard,” he says.
“Yeah.”
“That’s kinda hot,” he says.
I get my hand underneath his sweater and wrap it around his waist again, but this time with my palm on his warm, smooth skin. He’s silky soft as suspected. At first he’s tense, but I think when he realizes I’m not going to tickle him again, his tension releases with a shiver and a hell of a lot of goosebumps.
I take his lower lip between mine and kiss it softly. His hand grips the back of my head, fingertips flexing into my scalp.
I move slowly, my hand inching up his side, and my lips parting incrementally. Finally, I feel his other hand on my hip. We work each other’s lips softly, like we’re both waiting for the other to put a stop to this, but neither of us does, and we wind up on our sides. He feels even smaller like this as I wrap my arm around his back and consider pulling his leg over my hip.
But as much as I want to do everything—I’d rather he lead the way.
For all I know I could be boring the hell out of him, so I tryto do just enough to keep it interesting, lightly sucking his mouth, rolling my hips once, sliding my hand up his spine beneath his sweater.
Eventually, I illicit a whimper from him and his mouth puts more pressure on mine. I open up, and his tongue slides in, causingmeto groan and my cock to throb.
From there, we’re making out. He squeezes my biceps, my pec. His calf slides up my leg, and he burrows closer. I tuck him into my arms and tongue him deep.
“Mmph,” he grunts, pressing his chest to mine like he wants even closer.
Finally, I feel his hard on against the top of my thigh. I suck his tongue gently, wishing it were his dick.
He’s the perfect combination of masculine grunts and feminine sighs—it’s exactly what I imagined he’d sound like when he was turned on, and nothing about this is disappointing or even strange. But it’sallnew and therefore I’m a little closer to coming in my pants than I’d like to be.
I release my grip on his mouth and kiss my way down his neck, inhaling his sweet and spicy scent, noting the sea breeze lingering between strands of his hair.
Maintaining a grip on the back of my neck, he grinds his lower body against me, telegraphing more need than he started with. It’s making me hard as fuck.
“Easy, angel,” I whisper, and he freezes.
“Um…” he breathes… “I—we should—maybe—not?—”
“Not what?” I ask before kissing a soft, sweet spot beneath his ear.
“I—is this too—? I don’t know…”
“Want me to stop?”
“No—I—maybe just…”
