Page 65 of For the Fans

I bite my lip.I’m sure the fans would love to see me…

I shake my head. “Only if you do it, too.”

His eyes snap open, and he peers at me. “Fuck that.”

“Then no dice.” I shrug, releasing my cock too. “This isn’t one-sided, superstar. All or nothing.”

His eyes are hooded, the gleam in them more furious than anything. But still, I think I see a tiny twinge of curiosity, as confirmed when he glances down at my dick.

Sucking in a breath, he mumbles, “This is just for the fans… right?” His eyes come back to mine, and I nod.

“For the fans.”

Reaching over hesitantly, he curls his fingers around my dick. And the sensation of contact, of his calloused hand on my sensitive flesh, prompts a tiny sound from within my throat.

“Don’t make that noise,” he growls, gripping my cock in a chokehold. He should know that it actually feelsawesome, but I’m really trying to downplay it.

“I can’t… help it,” I croak. “Your hands are rough.”

“Shut up and let’s get this over with,” he hisses, moving his hand slowly up my shaft, then back down.

Oh God, fuck me, it feelsreallyfucking good.I don’t understand why… It’s just a hand. A rough one, without any lube. In theory, it shouldn’t feel good. But it does. It feelsawesome.

Sliding my left hand beneath his arm, I grab his dick, and this time,hemakes a noise.

“See?” I stroke slowly. “It feels—”

“No, it doesn’t.” His voice shivers through the words. “It’s just because your hands are soft… Like a girl’s.”

“Whatever you say.” I give his dick some gentle tugs, stuffing my fingers down into his pants to get it all.

Turns out only about half of it is exposed, which means it’s even bigger than I thought it was. I’m not jealous, though… His is pretty much the same length as mine, except for his foreskin advantage.

The mutual jerking continues at a leisurely pace, and as much as I’m trying to fight it, his hand pulling uncoordinatedly on me feels exceptionally good. We’re both leaned back, side-by-side,his eyes closed and jaw straining while I can’t keep my wide gaze off what my hand is doing.

This isinsane. I’ve never touched a dick that wasn’t my own before. I can’t believe I’m doing this, and what’s more, I can’t believe that I think justdoingit is tightening up my balls even more than the feeling of him stroking me.

“Kyran…” I whisper, my eyes gliding up to his face where it rests, inches from mine.

“What?” He gasps, lips quivering when he speaks. His eyes are screwed shut, like he’s desperately trying to imagine he’s anywhere else.

“Does this feel good?” I hum, using my index and middle fingers to circle his tip and push the skin down.

“N-no…” he whimpers, then bites his lip.

My mouth is overflowing with saliva, pulse pounding in my skull while I blink at his face. “Do you want me to stop…?”

His hips lift ever-so-slightly, seeking out my hand as mine angle toward him, our thighs pressing together.

“Uhh… um…” He fumbles for words, the sounds of his panting lulling me into a trance.

“I won’t…” I tell him, hoarsely, surrendering to the sensation of his timid strokes while I play with his cock in a way that he obviously likes but refuses to admit it.

“Stop… t-talking, Avi…” he groans.

The way my name rolls off his tongue sounds different right now than any other time he’s said it. It’s softer, breathier, yes, but also with a gasp of lust. Like his tone is giving away more than his words ever would.

Something about it sparks a wild need inside me; a need to chase and capture it. To prove to him that he likes this, despite how much he’s fighting it.