Page 11

10

Paul

M y last class of the day is cut short thanks to a test, so I’m back in our room an hour before I expect Brendon.

All afternoon, I’ve been thinking about the toys I have hidden under my bed. I’m nervous, though. Nothing has been in my ass. Ever. I’ve never tried anal at all, actually. The high school girlfriend I had wasn’t into it, and that’s just not something you ask a random hookup. It just feels more personal, more intimate, somehow.

My hands are shaking as I pace the room. What if Brendon tries and I hate it? I should experiment some on my own, right? So I don’t embarrass myself. If I know I don’t like it, I can just tell him that instead of hating something he does to me.

Reaching for the bag under my bed where we keep the liquor, I grab the whiskey, unscrew the cap, and take a swig. It burns a bit going down, but it heats my belly. I take another swallow and put it back, then reach under my bed for the supplies.

After cleaning up in the bathroom, I lay on my bed, naked from the waist down, and just feel around. One hand stroking my dick while the other plays with my balls and presses against my taint. I’m nervous and excited about what comes next, and my cock doesn’t know how to handle it. I go from raging hard to half-cocked.

Slicking up my fingers, I slide them between my cheeks and just rub my hole.

Fuck, that feels good. My eyes close, and my dick thickens.

I rub circles over the skin, getting used to the sensation, then press one finger against it. A groan vibrates from my chest, and I’m able to get my fingertip inside of me.

Holy fuck, that’s weird but good. So good.

There’s a slight stretching sensation, but it’s not bad, just different. I pause to add more lube and slide my finger back in, this time going deeper and thrusting. It’s so good. So fucking good.

I add a second finger and imagine what it would be like for Brendon to fuck me. It’s got to be amazing. The idea of him inside my body is a foreign concept to me, but I want to feel it. I want to make him hold out as long as he possibly can, until he’s shaking and whimpering and desperate to come while he uses my ass to find his own release.

Before I can switch to the plug, my orgasm hits me like a freight train. My entire body curving in around itself and stealing my breath. My hole clenches down on my fingers so hard it damn near hurts, but it leaves me panting and exhausted.

For a few minutes, I swear I see stars and have to lie there just learning how to breathe again. Holy fuck. That was amazing.

Looking at my phone, I see I don’t have long before Brendon should be back, so I hustle to grab my clothes and get to the bathroom to clean up. It takes longer than I expected, and by the time I’m leaving the bathroom, I can hear him outside the door. I dive for my bed and throw the plug and lube under my pillow and lay on top of it.

When I turn around, Brendon is looking at me with a raised eyebrow.

“Hey, man, how was class?” I ask, way too chipper. Jesus fuck. Chill out, man.

“You feeling okay?” He closes the door and eyes me while he drops his backpack on the floor by his bed. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m not acting weird,” I scoff. I’m definitely not acting normal.

He toes off his shoes, still watching me, and climbs onto the bed, pushing me back against the mattress and settling between my thighs.

“I believe I was promised an orgasm.” He waggles his eyebrows and bites his lower lip.

Well, shit.

My dick is sensitive from the recent orgasm but not unwilling.

I slide my fingers into his hair and pull his mouth down to mine. Brendon groans and gives me some of his weight. It’s perfect. The solid pressure of him holding me against the bed while I taste him on my lips is everything I’ve ever wanted. My heart soars at the connection I have to this man, how much better the touch is because I know him.

He rocks his hips against me, and I suck on his lower lip. Brendon’s cock is hard against my hip while mine is barely at half-mast.

He pulls back and looks down at me with uncertainty in his eyes and tense shoulders.

“Do you not want to do this?” His voice is small and unsure, and I hate it. I hate that I’ve put that thought in his head.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, I’m not sure I can . . . uh . . . right this minute.” I stumble over my words since I’m not sure I want to tell him I was just jacking off while imagining him pounding me into the mattress. “Can we just lay here for a bit?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Brendon shifts and lays next to me, only our arms touching on the too small mattress. Now it’s awkward. Fucking Christ.

Brendon fidgets with his fingers, popping his knuckles and rolling his wrists. It’s a nervous habit I’ve seen him do countless times, but I don’t think I’ve ever been the reason for it before.

Rolling onto my side, I reach for his thigh and pull it over my hip, forcing him to roll toward me.

He watches me with a carefully blank face and for once says nothing.

“I didn’t say stop touching me,” I murmur, gripping the back of his neck and leaning toward him. “I jacked off right before you got here.” It’s my turn to turn red while he smirks at me. “But making out sounds amazing.”

I slide my knee between his, slotting our bodies together, and he wraps his arm around my back to hold me against him. I smile into the kiss and slide my hand down his spine to cup his ass. God, I love the feel of him.

He moans, and I shove my hand inside his underwear to feel his skin in my palm, squeezing and kneading the muscle of his ass. He thrusts his hips and rolls his body against me.

“Tell me what you’re okay with,” I say against his lips.

He drags his lower lip between his teeth for a second, then meets my eyes. “I like when you talk dirty to me.” His face immediately flames red, and I smirk at him.

“Yeah? You like being my little needy cock whore?” I drop my voice and put some command in it. A shiver runs through him, and I lean over him.

Brendon’s eyes close, and his breath shakes on the word, “Fuck.”

“Hmmm,” I hum along his jaw as I nip at the skin.

“No one has ever talked to me like that.” He thrusts against me again, his cock hard as a rock.

“Glad to be of service.” I suck on his earlobe, and he whimpers. His reactions are definitely having an effect on my dick now.

We make out for a while, grinding against each other and just getting to know each other’s bodies, but we don’t take it any further.

“I really need to get some homework done,” I grumble against Brendon’s lips.

“I do too.”

We grab our stuff, and I sit up against the pillows and headboard. Brendon lays down between my legs with the back of his head against my pelvis and puts my thighs over his shoulders. It’s surprisingly comfortable, so I don’t argue.

As he reads his textbook and makes notes, he strokes my leg, and it’s the most comfortable I’ve ever felt.

Brendon’s phone pings, and he groans.

I snort at his reaction and watch over his head as he opens the app and clicks on Nikki’s name. Twelve unopened messages.

“Why don’t you just ignore her? Eventually she’ll just stop, right?”

He opens the pictures of her with stupid filters on. Teddy bear, hearts, bald.

“No,” he huffs. “When I ignore her, it makes her worse.”

Brendon lifts the phone and takes a selfie with my legs still over his shoulders.

“Are you really going to send that?” I sit up a little as he types out “study time” on the screen.

“I’m wearing your legs as earmuffs. Maybe she’ll get the message and go away.” Brendon puts his phone down and lifts his book. “I doubt it, though.”

“I’m not ready for everyone to know about me.” My words are soft, but he hears them. Brendon turns around and sits up, his eyes locking with mine.

“There was nothing in that picture that could be identified as you. It was just leg and hip.” He squeezes my leg. “I wouldn’t out you. You can change your pants or something in case she shows up, if that will make you feel better.”

My head buzzes with too many thoughts. The fear of being found out and being made a target. Living out in the open makes you vulnerable. I’m a hockey player. I know I can take a hit and stay standing, but that doesn’t mean I want to be judged for who I’m dating or for who I find attractive. Homophobia runs rampant in sports. As soon as a player comes out, no one cares about how they play, only their sex life. It’s bullshit and not the way I want my life to go.

I nod and settle back on the pillow while I suck on the inside of my lip. Brendon leans over me, his hands on the mattress on either side of my hips, and he kisses me softly. He sucks on my bottom lip and presses his mouth against mine again.

“Do you trust me?” he whispers against my lips.

“Yes,” I answer without hesitation.

He smiles and kisses me again; it’s a light pressure, soft, and sweet. More comforting than anything else.

“I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you on purpose.” He pulls back enough to meet my eyes.

“I know.”