Page 59 of Fever Dream
“Wow,” I can’t help but mull as I get a feel for the solid length of him for the first time.
“What?” he asks, voice deep and low.
“Just … admiring the Thornfield breeding stock,” I reply. Harrison chuffs a laugh, bringing down the blazing tension a notch. He doesn’t stop my wandering hand, nor the way I edge it towards the waistband of his sweats. I pause right at the top, eyes clashing with his heated ones.
“Can I?” I ask, biting on my lip.
“Yeah,” he nods, greenlighting my deepest desire. This is all I can think about right now, getting my hands where they desperately want to go.
I don’t hesitate, sliding my hand into the waistband of his boxers and pushing them down. I only push far enough to allow his long, thick cock enough room to spring free. My mouth waters as I slide my hand down his length, relishing the long intake of breath Harrison sucks in as I touch him.
My thumb traces down the length of the prominent vein before slotting into the soft space underneath his head as Harrison’s breaths become less steady. I smile as I swipe my thumb through the moisture in his slit, Harrison cursing softly beside me.
“That feels so nice,” he breathes, making me feel really good about myself.
“For me too,” I tell him, watching my hand slowly glide up and down his length.
“Casey,” he whimpers, leaning back down to capture my mouth. He kisses me again, tinged in desperation, spearing me with his tongue as I whimper into his mouth. He moans on each upward stroke of my hand.
It doesn’t take long before that fire strikes between us again and suddenly, Harrison’s hand is edging towards the top of my shorts before his welcome touch finds my aching dick. I let out a deep groan as he pulls my dick free and he breaks the kiss to look down at where his hand is touching me.
“Is this okay?” he asks somewhat unnecessarily.
“Very,” I say anyway.
His touch is firm and skilled, like he knows his way around a dick as he strokes me all the way to the top and then back again, his thumb doing some kind of magic on each upward stroke.
“Harrison,” I whimper, waiting until his eyes collide with mine before he’s suddenly kissing me again, kissing me wildly and desperately while our hands stroke each other until my mind quietens and it’s just him and me, here in this moment. It’s a rare moment of peace between my ears as I let myself just live and breathe Harrison, feel his kiss and the touch of his magic hand.
I wish I could last longer but already my spine is tingling, balls tightening as he touches me in a way I want to bottle up and relive every waking moment. But I can’t stop the feeling as it sparks inside me, back arching before I’m spilling over his fist, a guttural groan leaving me as my mind fractures and splinters into dust.
I’m just present enough to feel Harrison pulse in my hand, and he is joining me on the other side as he spills over my fist and onto my stomach.
We’re both breathing hard as Harrison leans his forehead against mine and it slowly dawns on me what we have just done. That we have just crossed a line that we can never step back over.It kind of makes sense now, why Harrison was so hesitant about taking that step and potentially blowing up our friendship.
But if I was expecting to feel any sort of lingering weirdness, or any sort of regret, there is none to be found, only a sense of rightness and contentment and most of all, peace.
Harrison slides off me, silent as we both seem to be feeling the same way. His breaths slow as he lays at my side, both of us still holding each other’s softening dicks like we don’t want to let go just yet. I’m kind of enthralled by his, maybe even a little bit obsessed as my mind goes right ahead and fills in all the gaps it was missing.
“I think I earned that dinner,” I say, needing something to bridge the moment.
Harrison is quiet for a beat before he laughs, burying his head in my neck. “Oh, Casey,” he chuffs, “Never change.”
He drops his hold on me, arm crossing my stomach, holding me close as we just lay there a little longer. The tension has gone though, replaced with something a little nice, a little cosy even.
But silence never has been my forte.
“Harry?”
“Mmm?” he replies, breaths warm on my neck.
“That was really nice,” I tell him, only a little bit of my nerves showing through.
He lifts his head, the softness in his eyes making me feel all sorts of things in my stomach as he reaches out a hand and smooths the hair from my forehead.
“It was nice,” he agrees. “Very, very nice.”
“Can we just … lay here for a bit longer?”
