Page 11

Macsen

In my head was a rush of conflicting feelings that I couldn’t make sense of.

I had started this game to get Hywel uncomfortable, to remind him this was my house.

Making him uncomfortable was my equivalent of pissing on the rug to mark my territory.

I had ripped off my pants without realising how much the sight of him, smiling and swaying slightly after we’d both drunk our fill, would turn me on.

And then the script had flipped. I had no idea how, but suddenly the thought of making him uncomfortable made me feel ill.

Who was I to get naked in front of him and act like that was normal?

I had taken things too far. But then Hywel had said he didn’t want this to stop.

And I knew I wanted him and he wanted me.

“Truth or dare?” Hywel asked.

“Dare,” I replied breathlessly, desperately. I didn’t know when we’d flipped the game to truth or dare but I knew I’d do whatever he asked in that moment.

“Stop covering yourself up,” he said. His eyes flicked down again to where I was covering up my last semblance of modesty.

“Fine,” I said. Fine seemed to have become our catchphrase over the evening. I knew he meant for me to take my hands off my cock but I went one bit further. I held my hand over my cock as I clumsily tried to pull off the jacket and vest with the other.

“Here, let me.” Hywel crawled around the sofa and manoeuvred himself so he was kneeling between my legs.

I covered up my cock with one hand as he pulled up my vest over that arm, and I switched hands as he pulled the other side of my vest off.

I could feel his breath on my naked chest as he pulled the vest away and stayed sat where he was, looking at my hands expectantly.

He licked his lips as I moved them away to reveal my cock.

I knew I was above the average — an equal amount of men and women had praised and complained about that fact — but the way he looked at it was almost reverent.

“What do you want from me?” he asked.

“I want you naked,” I said, “and I want your mouth on my cock.”

Hywel stood quickly to pull off his white boxer briefs and I caught a quick glimpse of his cock before he kneeled again.

He had neatly trimmed pubes the same golden colour as his head and chest hair, and his cock seemed to mirror the difference between our builds.

It was slightly shorter than mine though still not small, but thicker than mine.

I could imagine it had intimidate quite a few men.

“You asked me,” Hywel said, his cool breath so close to my cock that I could have exploded over his face then and there, “but you didn’t dare.”

“Is that what you want?” I breathed. Sex was normally mechanical for me, a happy in and out scenario for both parties. But right now my heart was beating through my ribs and every sense felt heightened. “I dare you to suck my cock, Hywel Prentis.”

Hywel lowered his head and took the tip of my dick between his lips and I gasped. Maybe it was the vodka, or the weed, or over a decade of wanting this man whether or not I admitted it, but it felt like every nerve ending had caught fire simultaneously.

He concentrated on the head first, pulling my foreskin back to lick a strip up the sensitive underside. I shuddered involuntarily. I could feel him massaging my balls and teasing my taint with one hand as the other held my cock, lazily stroking as he licked and nipped at the head gently.

“Fucking…tease…” I said quietly, trying to collect myself enough to speak.

“Don’t you like it like this?” Hywel asked. He licked a long stripe up from my balls to the head of my cock. I scratched at my own thighs to stop myself from grabbing his hair and forcing his head down.

“I like it quick, fast, dirty.” I said finally after Hywel had covered every inch of my cock with his tongue.

“Then have it,” said Hywel. He grabbed my hand and moved it to the top of his head. “I’ll tap your stomach if I want it to stop. I don’t need to be able to speak.”

Fuck . I was used to dominating, or being dominated.

I didn’t care so long as someone was in control.

But I’d imagined Hywel for so long and never thought he’d actually want this.

I curled my fingers in his hair and guided his mouth back to my cock.

I was aware that he’d moved his hand away from my cock to his own to let me do all the work.

I pushed his head down onto my cock, gently at first. The warmth of his mouth was almost too much to bear. I moved his head up and down on my cock and he moaned as he did. Was he enjoying sucking me off just as much as I was enjoying having my cock sucked?

I started to get a little bit rougher, holding on to his hair and pushing his head down further on my cock each time.

He moaned and gagged, eyes watering and I could see his face getting redder but he kept jacking at his own cock so I knew he was enjoying.

I thrust upward with my hips as I could feel my orgasm building.

“Fuck, I don’t know if I can hold on…” I said.

I released his hair so that he could pull his head away but he didn’t, just bobbed up and down on my cock with enthusiastic noises.

I felt my balls tighten and the approaching rush.

“Fuck!” I shouted as I came down his throat.

He carried on sucking until I had expelled every drop, then looked up at me with red cheeks and lust glazed eyes.

I noticed he’d stopped wanking himself off.

“Do you want me to…” I asked awkwardly.

“No need,” Hywel held up one sticky hand. “I like giving head so I…sorry about the sofa.” He gestured down to where I was sure I’d probably see a sticky mess.

“Oh…OK.” Things had gotten awkward fast. “Well…um. Bed. For me. I mean, yeah. Bed. Night.”

I got up then and left him kneeling naked on the floor. I closed my bedroom door behind me and leaned up against it. Coward . I had gotten everything I wanted since I was sixteen, so why wasn’t I thrilled?

I crawled into bed and pulled all the sheets around my naked frame. I knew why my sexual history felt hollow. It was because I never actually wanted to start liking the man, and that was getting increasingly difficult.

***

December 9 th

Did last night really happen? Was my overriding thought when I rolled over to silence my alarm the next morning. The dried cum on my stomach told me it had. Fuck .

It took another few minutes for me to drag myself out of bed. Could I face Hywel? It wasn’t that I hadn’t had one-night stands before, I’d had plenty. I’d even had a few stay over. But I hadn’t often left them to clean up their own mess and make them sleep on my sofa.

Would Hywel want to talk about things? Would he expect more of me now?

Because having something like that would stray us dangerously far into more than one-night stand territory, and that was not a territory I was familiar with.

I pulled on my pants, jeans and a fresh vest. My spare pair of overalls were down in the garage.

I opened the door as quietly as I could.

If Hywel was asleep, I might sneak past him and down into the garage as quickly as possible.

I stepped out into the living area…where Hywel was already boiling the kettle, fully dressed up in his business attire.

He was wearing the jacket I’d stolen and it looked like he’d done his best to wipe off the ash from the lapel.

“Cuppa?” he asked. I did the only sensible and masculine thing, which was grunt. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

I looked around. As I’d come to expect from Hywel, he had cleaned up from the night before. The vodka bottle was nowhere to be seen, poker chips were neatly piled up next to the TV and the floor had been mopped. If I hadn’t been there, feeling that mouth get to work I would never have known that…

I had to stop thinking about last night. Erase it from my mind.

“So, fun night last night,” said Hywel.

Fuck. Why? “Yeah, I guess.”

“No need to go all quiet and brooding now. I know what you like.” Hywel’s eyes glittered as he handed me the cup of tea.

“Yes, you do,” I muttered. “Look, about last night…”

“Never happening again? Yes, I know.” Hywel was still smiling as he sipped his tea.

“Look, I’m not saying that I didn’t…” I was flustered, and I had no idea why. I wasn’t one to apologise for not wanting to have sex with someone again. But that was the problem. I was apologising for not doing it again even though I wanted to.

“I know, it was good for me too. But you don’t like me. You just about tolerate my presence and I just about tolerate you, so throwing fucking into the equation is bound to cause problems. No need to apologise,” said Hywel.

“I don’t dislike you,” I said. Surprisingly, it came from a place of honesty. I had no idea when the feeling in me had shifted, but I’d let at least a bit of the dislike go.

“Likewise. But neither are we friends, and that’s fine by me.” Hywel swilled out his mug in the sink. “I’m working from the flat today so I’ll bring you a sandwich down later.”

Hywel went to sit down on the sofa and pulled out his laptop and a big folder. I watched him type as I sipped at the cup of tea, and wondered why him saying we weren’t friends had made my heart twinge a little bit.

I toasted some bread, snaffled it down quickly and went downstairs to work. To bury myself in my work more accurately, and not to think about what had happened. Or why I felt the way I did about what had happened.