Page 55 of Best Man
When it’s finally on, I lower myself over him, positioning my dick against the small hole. I open my mouth to ask again, and he shakes his head crossly, so instead I push in. It’s hard going, as he’s still tight, so I go gently, pausing often, but I’m relieved to see the pleasure in his face, the almost blind look in his eyes as he focuses inward on the feel of my cock in him.
Finally, I bottom out and I groan helplessly at the feel of that tight sheath milking my prick. For a wild moment I wonder what it would be like to be bare in him, to feel him burn me from the inside and to spill in there feeling it hot around my cock. I moan at the thought, and he lowers his legs to twine them around my hips as I start to thrust.
I piston into him, slowly at first, alternating deep thrusts with shallow ones, hearing his groans in my ear as I watch our reflection in the tarnished depths of the mirror. It’s like we’re one body joined as we grunt and heave together. I watch his arms and legs band around me and the blind joy in my expression.
I’m broader than him and I look almost protective as I hover over him, forcing my cock into him. My tanned skin shines in the low light, darker against the olive tones of his. His dark hair gleams in the light as he throws his head back and moans long and low. His mouth is open and his eyes clenched shut. I stare again at that reflection as my hips sling back and forth.We look beautiful together,I have time to think.
Then the pleasure seizes me in its grip like the storm overhead, and I start to thrust deep and hard, grunting each time I bottom out. He cries out, lowering his hand to grab his cock as he writhes under me, the thunder crashing overhead. I can feel the spray of the rain from theopen balcony doors cold on my hot skin and the ticklish sensation as the gauzy curtains blow over our bodies.
Then the lightning flashes, lighting the room, and he screams and arches up. I lower my head to watch come shoot from his cock, jerking in creamy spasms over the taut skin of his abdomen and chest. My balls draw up, and I gasp before feeling the come shoot out of me hot inside the condom as I batter into him, riding out the most intense orgasm I’ve ever felt, inside the tight clench of his body.
I don’t know where I go, but when I come to properly we’re lying on the bed, our bodies still wet and the sheets damp beneath us. The storm has moved away, and there’s just the gentle patter of the rain on the balcony outside. I look down and smile at Jesse. He’s curled into my side, his head resting on my chest and his arm and leg flung over me almost as if he doesn’t want to let go. The thought warms my chest.
His eyes are closed, showing off how ridiculously long his lashes are. Like black feathers. As I watch him, his eyes open and I find myself speared by the chocolate-coloured depths. For a long second, we study each other. All the fire he greeted me with has gone now and in its place is what seems to be confusion.
I’m instantly seized with the fierce desire to ease him. I think it’s always been there, to be honest. It’s in the way I took him off the jobs with younger men and made him dig gardens for old people, the way I’ve always watched out for him and tried to smooth his way.A bit like an aging Walter Raleigh, I think wryly. Trying to spread my cloak on the ground so he doesn’t get soaked by life’s problems.
“Alright?” I ask quietly.
He nods solemnly, his eyes fixed on mine.
“What are you thinking?” I ask, suddenly seized with this huge curiosity about how he thinks and feels. It’s at this point that I should back away, because that’s always been my launchpad in the past to becoming fascinated by someone. I wait for the panic to hit that I’m feeling it towards this beautiful boy, but for some reason it doesn’t come.
“I’m thinking I like this,” he finally says, and my heart clenches at the courage it must have taken to say that when I’d treated him so badly this morning.
I dive straight into speech. “I like it too.” His eyes widen in surprise for a split second before he conceals his gaze, his lashes swooping down to cover that bright gaze. “Oi,” I say quietly and he looks at me again. “I amsosorry about today,” I say firmly. He opens his mouth, and I shake my head. “Please let me say it.” He nods, and I take a deep breath. “I never should have reacted like that. It was horrible, and I was unkind because I panicked. And that was because I am older than you, Jess. You deserve a lot more than some middle-aged bloke who’s too scared to try.” I look at him as he watches me from his spot on my chest. “But I’m not too scared now,” I say softly, and he jerks slightly.
“What?”
I huff. “I think you might have noticed that I can’t keep my hands off you.”
I grab his hand, examining the long slender fingers and bitten nails, and, seized with a stupid tenderness, I bring it to my lips and press a kiss into the palm. He folds his fingers over it reflexively, as if holding the kiss, and stares at me, still silent as I speak.
“I’ve had all day to think about this, and I don’twantto keep my hands off you. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone, Jess. I don’t know where it’s going, but I know I don’t want to stop now. I want to–” I hesitate. “We’re going back tomorrow, and I want to see you again. Not just for sex,” I say quickly as he stares at me, his eyes as bright as a penny. “I want to get to know you.”
“Are you saying you want to go out with me?”
I feel my cheeks flush. “What a terrible expression. No, I’m not doing that.”
“Would you rather pay your addresses to my father and arrange to court me? I’ll make sure my mum’s got a good book for when she’s sitting in the same room chaperoning us.”
“You’re hilarious,” I try to say and then just give up and laugh. Sometimes it’s easier to cut out the middleman and head straight to Jesse Land. And it’s such a relief to hear his humour again after what I did.
I sober. “I can’t promise forever like those books you read,” I say softly. “I mean–”
He stops me talking with the simple move of putting his hand overmy mouth. “No one can say that at the beginning of a story,” he says quietly. “It’s always saved to the end of the book.” He smiles calmly at me, and I feel moisture in the back of my eyes at his trusting expression. “I want to try that too, Zeb. I really want to.”
I draw him into a hug, squeezing him until he wheezes and starts to laugh. When I let him go, his merry face is front and centre again, and I smile helplessly back. “Then let’s try,” I say.
And that’s how simply we start our story.
TEN
JESSE
The knock at the door of the flat interrupts my nervous pacing. I race over to the door and then stop, reminding myself that I don’t want to look too keen. I shake my head. I’m sure I’ll give that away at some point. I take a deep breath and rub my damp palms down my jeans before flinging open the door. Zeb is leaning against the wall outside the flat with a very quizzical expression on his face.
“I was wondering whether you’d changed your mind,” he says. There’s a wry note to his voice, but for some reason I’m sure there’s a bit of truth in that statement.
