Page 71 of Bobby Green

“Okay.” Bobby kissed his forehead then, and his cheek, down his jaw, along his neck. Reg wrapped his legs around Bobby’s hips and drove his heels into Bobby’s ass, his own dick growing hard again. Reg kneaded Bobby’s biceps as Bobby pushed himself up, and then began thumbing his nipples, pinching softly, and then a little harder when Bobby threw his head back and groaned.

“One more time.”

“Yes,” Reg panted. He didn’t even care if he came. He just didn’t want Bobby’s cock to leave his ass, because he hadn’t known it, but he’d been empty until now, hollow, needing something in his body, in hislife, that he’d never thought to crave.

But Bobby didn’t fuck in small measures. Bobby pulled that monster back, far, and shoved it in until Reg could taste it in the back of his throat. Again, again, again, harder, slicker, lubed by the come sliding out of Reg’s ass, coating his cheeks and the backs of his thighs.

The thought of that—so dirty. Reg, who’d been fucking on a porn set for a decade, felt the wicked thrill of something filthy and sexual, right down in the pit of his stomach.

Bobby rubbed Reg’s balls with his abdomen as he thrust, and Reg had to come. He reached between them, grabbed his own cock with one hand while he kept the other on Bobby’s nipples, and he squeezed with one and played with the other.

“I want to kiss you everywhere,” Bobby chanted. “I want to suck your nipples, and finger your ass, and see your face when you come. I want your jizz in the back of my throat. I want to taste it and swallow it, and lick your balls until you scream. I want all of you, Reg. Every bit. Now come for me.Come for me!”

And like his dirty words weren’t enough, his voice, commanding,demanding, did it. Reg gasped, almost afraid when his gut clenched and his groin clenched and he turned himself inside out one more time for this kid who had just cared for him and loved him and fucked him so sweet he might never fuck again without remembering this moment here.

He didn’t want to ever forget.

“Geeeaaawwwd!”

Oh, it was exactly as painful and as awesome as he feared, that last orgasm. Everything ached, especially his asshole, as Bobby drove in for the final time and shuddered. Reg’s ass milked him, squeezed the last bit out of him, and Bobby collapsed again, this time sweating and shaking so hard Reg would have gotten him a blanket, but neither of them could move.

“Reg—”

“Don’t move.”

“’Kay.”

Reg wondered then—had his sister heard? Usually his hookups in his room were necessarily quiet, but this time….

He couldn’t regret it. Even if he went upstairs to check on her and she screamed mean words at him—she’d just have to get used to it was all. He wasn’t giving this up for random silent Johnnies hookups in his room.

“Reg—”

“Don’t move,” he said automatically. His ass was dripping come on the couch, but he didn’t care. He’d wash it off.

“Not moving. That was amazing.”

“God, yes.”

“I mean… I’ve never done that with someone I cared about before. Not like I care about you.”

Reg’s eyes burned, and he couldn’t figure out why. He wasn’t sad. He was, in fact, gloriously happy, in a way he couldn’t ever remember being.

“Me too. What does that mean?”

Bobby gave a little laugh. “It means I’m gay. I hope that’s okay.”

Reg wrapped his arms tighter around Bobby’s waist. “Why is that special?” he asked, but mostly himself. “Why is it special if I’m gay or bi and not straight, just having sex? Itis. I just don’t—”

Bobby stopped his maundering with a kiss. When he pulled back, he looked soberly into Reg’s eyes. “It means we care about each other the way you keep thinking you’ll care about a girl someday, Reg. I planned like that too. I may have sex with guys and like it, or get a blowjob from a guy and like it—but I have to fall in love with a girl and marry her, because that’s how you grow up and be happy.”

Reg sucked in a breath, dislodging Bobby from his ass, but that was okay, because this was important. “Yes!” he said. “Yes—that’s it! That’s what I thought—but… but Trina tried to tell me—”

“That’s how we feel about each other,” Bobby went on—maybe because he had to. Because he had it in his chest, and he needed Reg to hear it, now that they were close and Reg might never have sex with anyone else and know what sex was for. “We feel like we’re the future together. I want to plan with you. I want to make my life fit you. I want us to be family. I even want you to meet my mom. This idea that we can fuck around with any guy we want but our hearts will one day belong to a girl—that’s not us. I mean, some of the guys at Johnnies may leave the set and go home to girlfriends, and that’s okay. But that’s not me. And I’m really….”

He bit his lip, and Reg realized—truly realized—that he wasn’t nineteen yet. He turned nineteen in May. Reg was almost thirty.

“It’s not me either,” Reg said, trying to pull his weight. “I… until, maybe… until maybe you kissed me at the car, I thought it was. But… but I don’t want you to go nowhere. I want… I want you to stay. I don’t imagine a girl anymore, home when I get home, making me happy. I imagine you.”