Page 44 of Dignity

I tell him about my experiences with women, how I discovered gay porn, and then gay BDSM porn. How it really drove home that I’d been avoiding the conscious mental discussion with myself.

That admitting I’m gay finally brought a small measure of relief to my heart even through my terror.

Throughout all of this hecontinues holding my hand, stroking my fingers, making no other move, his focus totally on me as I talk.

“I’m bi,” he admits. “But tend to prefer men. Has to be an amazing woman who hits certain buttons for me to want to be with her.”

“Like what?”

The smile returns. “Like she wants to be tossed over my lap and spanked before I fuck her.”

My mouth goes dry. “Oh.”

“We can try that, too, ifyou want.”

I nod.

Do Iwant?

Ooohhhh, you havenofucking idea how much I want.

With his free hand, he cups my head and leans in for another kiss. This one has more heat to it and makes my cock immediately fill and throb in my slacks. I softly moan as the tip of his tongue lightly traces the seam of my lips, which part for him.

Idefinitelywant this. I want more.

I want it all.

And I wantit now.

While he’s taking his time kissing me, he places my hand on his bare thigh, easing my fingers up, under the hem of his shorts. With that hand now free, he brushes slow touches up and down my arm.

Beneath my palm the hair on his thigh is softly coarse against warm flesh stretched over firm, sculpted muscles. I’m in shape, but he makes me look like a slacker. Unlike a body builder, hisform is leaner, like he’s used to doing a lot of running, not a bit of fat on him. A thrill rolls through me as I slide my fingers father up, the tips brushing the crease between hip and thigh, and I realize he’s gone commando.

“That’s it,” he whispers against my mouth. “Whatever you want to do, baby.”

Tendrils of need are making my cock twitch and jerk against the restraint of my briefs. WhichI now feel a little stupid for wearing, because they’re just plain tighty-whities.

Hell, I didn’t feel this nervous when I lost my virginity to Connie Shaw in her bedroom one afternoon after school in tenth grade. She wasn’t a virgin, and we only dated for about a month, but she’d pursued me with an energy I didn’t even try to resist. I thought maybe it’d be the answer to swirling doubts in thedim recesses of my brain that, at the time, I refused to take out and look at in a brighter light.

The problem is, right now, I want to doeverything. I’m desperately afraid I’m going to shoot my load the second my pants come off, if not before.

As we kiss, he deepens it, exploring my mouth with his tongue, his lips gently tugging and sucking on mine, soft nips that grow more insistent as herealizes I’m still all in.

The hand cupping my head slides farther back, fingers threading through my hair and gently gripping. I don’t expect the moan that rolls from me, unbidden, when I feel him taking that control of me.

He lifts his lips from mine so he can look me in the eyes. “More?”

“Yeah!”

At some point he eases me onto my back, and we’re still kissing, on our sides, my hands strokinghis body, through his clothes, under his shorts, everywhere I can reach while he still kisses me.

Desperation grows within me as I worm my way close enough to him to feel the warm friction of his body against mine through my clothes. He rolls me onto my back, kissing me down my jaw, to my throat.

“We’ve got all week, baby,” he softly assures me. “As much or as little as you want.”

I hook aleg around his and I’m trying to grind against him, but he firmly pushes me back onto the bed.

“No,” he says, a sexy smile giving him dimples that will be my damned undoing, I know it. “Slow, this time. I don’t want to be the asshole who fucked you for the first time and made you regret it.” When he sits up, I try to pull him back down on top of me, but he takes my hands in his, kisses the insidesof my wrists, and then pushes them up, over my head, pressing them against the mattress.