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Page 23 of Gym Bros (Bay Area Bros #2)

CALYX

H e really is the best kisser in the world, and the way I keep seeking out more is so fucked up. What is wrong with me? The minute he called me angel I should have kicked him out, locked myself in the bathroom and scrubbed my dirty skin clean.

But now he’s done it again, and I swear to God, I’m about to let my occasional lover’s son suck my cock—something his father did once to me in the back of a car .

It was a limo, but still.

However—not gonna lie—I haven’t been this turned on in at least a year, and there’s no excuse for it except that maybe the idea of messing around with Samuel is even more forbidden than letting a married man fuck me.

He’d hate me if he knew. God only knows what Marcus would think.

“Okay,” I tell him, too far gone to care.

“Good answer,” he says, sliding my belt from its buckle.

“Take off your shirt,” I say.

He pushes himself up with one arm and sits back, keeping his eyes on me as he strips off his hoodie and the t-shirt beneath it, then he opens the front of his jeans. I slide my belt from the loops and toss it to the floor, then open my pants, too.

His eyes focus on my fingers, and when they stop moving, he reaches into the opening and pushes the fabric out of the way.

He licks his lips and makes a low satisfied noise in his throat when he feels the satin band and the soft lace beneath it.

To be clear, I did not intend to end up in this very compromising position, but I do prefer skimpy underwear.

Men’s or women’s. Today it just happens to be women’s.

If I confuse people with my identity—it’s not a fraction as much as I’ve confused myself since I was a child.

I don’t like to call myself gender-fluid because it makes me sound like I change my mind about it whenever I want. I just am this way.

I like my body. I like it thin and lean.

I like that I have a thigh gap and a perky ass—that I have nice nipples and slim arms. I like my defined chest and my full lips.

I like that I can do a makeup spread and a menswear spread in the same fashion magazine.

I’ve never wished my cock away or wanted a deeper voice.

The only thing I don’t like is that people so rarely know what to do with me.

Whether it’s a casting director or a man like Isaac, they either try to butch me up or fem me out. But it’s all just—me.

As far as what the fuck Samuel sees—I wonder where the appeal is? Is it the lacy underwear and the lip gloss? Or does he just like pretty things?

I lift my hips to shove my pants down, revealing the white satin and lace panties. Also—my erection.

Once the jeans are off, he rests a hand on my hairless upper thigh and strokes while he pulls his cock from his boxer briefs.

I gulp. I was prepared for it to look like Marcus’s, and it does—it’s bigger, harder, and slick with copious precum, but otherwise— extremely similar.

Uncut, dark, with that same large, heavy sac beneath it .

With my mouth watering, I tell myself I’m a terrible person. No morals whatsoever. Fuck, but I wanna be naked with him.

I take off my sweater without him even having to ask, too hot in my own skin, and I heat ever more when I see the way he’s staring at me. Like I’m not even human. Like I’m some deity.

Or radioactive.

I can’t tell.

I give my cock a rub as he keeps stroking my leg, his hand so large on it, he’s touching my inner and outer thigh at the same time.

I squirm, swiveling my ass into the couch cushions, needing more.

Needing anything . I tug at the waistband of his open jeans, trying to get him to do something else to me.

I don’t care what as long as it involves more parts of him touching more parts of me.

He’s got by far the best body of any man I’ve ever been naked with. I know he thinks he’s out of shape which means this is him on a bad day. He’s cut like a diamond, so many angles and facets that catch the light and the shadows.

His face isn’t quite as sharp, but it’s still chiseled as fuck despite the scruff that softens some of the edges. The warmth in his blue eyes as he gazes down at every inch of me makes my stomach flip and toss like a small boat on huge waves.

Unable to tolerate one more mindless stroke of my thigh, I move his hand to my crotch, and he sucks in a breath along with me as his hand covers my cock and balls.

I roll up to press harder against him. His hand moves over me, between my legs and up my shaft again and again in the most agonizing tease.

Maybe he doesn’t want this as much as he thought he did?

I can’t say I care at this point. I need to come, and I’ll talk him through it if he starts to freak out. Or suck his dick—whatever needs to happen so one of us can get me off.

“You all right?” I ask .

For that, I get a firmer squeeze. “Tell me what you want,” he says.

“Whatever you’re comfortable w?—”

“I’m comfortable with anything. What do you need?”

“Suck me.”

He snaps the waistband of my panties. His voice is rough when he says, “Take these slutty things off.”

I hurry to obey, but before I can toss them aside, he grabs them from me, raising them to his face to inhale deeply. I tremble as I watch this. His eyes stay locked on mine. I swear to God, his pupils dilate.

Not letting go of my underwear, he crawls between my legs, making me bend them as he stretches his huge body out on the couch.

I’m crammed against the arm. He’s flat on his stomach with one knee on the cushion and the other leg extended, the toe of his shoe braced on the floor.

He wraps his hands beneath my ass, lifts my hips slightly from the cushion, raises his head and sucks my balls into his mouth.

“Oh fuck,” I cry out instantly.

My head drops back as my hand shoots out to grab the back of his head.

If he had more than a centimeter of hair, I’d hang onto it, but it’s kind of hot that I can’t.

That I can feel the light sweat breaking out on his skull.

He laps at the base of my cock a few times before wrapping his mouth around it from the side and maneuvering the rest of it with his tongue until he’s got the whole thing in his mouth.

Granted—it’s not much. I have quite an average dick—maybe even on the smaller side, but I’ve never minded it. It makes it way easier for men to give me head, easier to find comfortable panties, and my erections are never all that hard to hide.

Samuel slurps it right up, and his eager tongue swirls all around it. Compressing his lips around my shaft, he sucks up and down, slow at first and then faster and firmer. His mouth is tight and hot and wet around me, so wet, I can feel his drool on my sac.

Wild with desire, I move with him, thrusting as he goes down on me, and letting loose a string of sighs and whimpers. “You’re doing so fucking good…mouth’s so wet…shit I’m close.”

He pulls off to press kisses against my inner thighs. “You wanna come in my mouth?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Do I get to come in yours?”

“Come anywhere you want,” I say.

“Anywhere?” he asks, his lips ghosting over my shaft as they travel up.

“Uh-huh…anywhere. Fucking anywhere .”

And now his mouth moves down, past my balls. He licks a wet line over my hole, and I startle, my thighs clenching. I was not expecting that from him. “You sure about that?” he asks.

Did I tell him I wasn’t bringing him back here to fuck? Had I known I was lying at the time? Because it’s literally all I want now.

Jesus. What the fuck is he doing to me? Where did I leave my mind?

When he licks my hole again, however, there’s really no thinking about it anymore. My ass is practically writing him an invitation. “I’m sure,” I tell him, both hands on his head now, doing my best to ride his face.

He drops my panties onto my abs and sits up, abandoning my throbbing dick and clenching hole. Reaching into his back pocket, he extracts his wallet, opens it, pulls out a condom and checks the date on it.

He chuckles. “Expires tomorrow.”

“Perfect,” I sigh, reaching for him.

He bats my hands away and I suck my fingers into my mouth instead. He’s busy taking off his shoes, jeans, and underwear—so much so that he doesn’t notice what I’m doing until he looks down to find me with two fingers in my own hole, getting myself ready.

“Fuck,” he says. “Do you have lube?”

“Don’t need it,” I tell him.

Lube is nice and everything, but I can take a dick with some spit and a decent condom, which I can tell his is from the glisten of it as he rolls it on, gaze locked on my fingers.

“May I?” he asks.

I nod, staring at him through hooded eyes.

He gives his own fingers a long wet suck and then he’s back between my legs, his mouth sucking my cock and his even wetter fingers entering my hole.

I’m gonna fucking die.

“God, Samuel…that feels really good.”

He keeps adding spit and more spit to my hole between sucks until he’s finally satisfied with how wet I am, and then, with his fingers jammed inside, he bobs up and down on my dick until a ripple of heat rolls through my core, tenses my thighs and forces the cum from my balls.

“Coming,” I gasp. My dick erupts in his mouth, and he drinks it down, his nose pressed against my pubic bone as pulse after pulse of my load shoots into him.

“Mm…” he growls, his tongue still moving on my crown, lapping up every drop.

Mindless and trembling with the orgasm, my eyes shut as I let out a long groan.

Pulling off, he kisses my thigh again, “Can I?”

“Yes, fuck yes,” I say, relatively sure I know what I’m consenting to.

And yet, as he puts my legs on his shoulders and rises between my thighs, I am thoroughly unprepared for him to ease his cock into my hole so nicely.

“Ah…” The sound is high and light in contrast to his low groan of “ Fffuuucckkk .”

It’s tight—he’s big, and I’m little, and still, he’s so goddamn gentle, I think I might lose my mind. More. Again. Whatever.

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