Page 57 of Hotshot

11

DENNY

I’d wanted this for weeks. No…for years. Many years.

This was day one of my big gay summer, and I couldn’t wait to get the party started.

I drove through town, wincing as I passed under the Welcome Home sign. It was so fucking big. I didn’t mind having my number painted on store windows. Less in-your-face, you know? That was me, though…subjectively contrary.

I cut down Myrtle and took the hillside road, following Carlton Creek to a dirt lane leading to the old Hamilton house. I’d never been inside, but I was familiar with it. Vinnie and Nolan hosted a lot of hockey-themed celebrations at their house next door. You couldn’t help noticing the red barn from the other side of the creek.

I pulled into the driveway and took the porch steps two at a time. I raised my hand to knock just as the door swung open and a boxer-brief-wearing, messy haired man pulled me over the threshold.

Hank didn’t bother with a greeting. He wrestled my T-shirt over my head as he kicked the door shut and slammed his mouth over mine.

God, it had been way too long. I really fucking missed this. Missed him.

“Take these off,” he mumbled, tugging at my belt. “Now.”

I obeyed, hands trembling as I chased his mouth, exposing my neck when he licked my throat and bit my shoulder. He helped undo my buckle and zipper while I kicked off my shoes in between soul-stealing, passionate kisses. I didn’t know what it was about us, but we had a habit of going from zero to a hundred in seconds flat. I was strung out and needy and damn, I was so hard it hurt. I’d never wanted anyone the way I wanted Hank.

“Mine. Give it to me,” I growled, fisting his hard-on through his boxer briefs.

Hank grunted, switching our positions against his foyer wall with embarrassing ease. I was still getting used to being with someone who matched me in size and strength. But I didn’t hate it. In fact, I was in the mood to be manhandled right now.

“You want my dick? You want me to stretch your sweet hole and fuck you?”

The deep timbre of his voice moved through me, holding me in place, demanding my attention. “I—yeah.”

“Yeah…what? Say it. Let me hear it,” Hank rasped, capturing my wrists and pinning them above my head as he alternately bit and kissed a path along my neck while pumping his hips suggestively.

The cocktease shit was killing me. No doubt I was sporting a nice wet spot on my boxer briefs. My prick was a steel rod begging for mercy. I needed friction, and I needed it now.

“Yes, do it. Fuck me. I want your cock.”

He licked my ear, tugging the lobe between his teeth. “Upstairs.”

I barely registered my surroundings. I think the room was gray and white, but don’t quote me. All that mattered was getting to the bed. We kicked the duvet aside and rolled all over themattress, consumed with reacquainting ourselves with the feel of being naked and entwined. It felt too good to stop. I could have done this all day. But when Hank ghosted a finger along my crack, I rolled on top of him, caging his body and straddling his torso.

I stroked my cock with my right hand and his with my left, dragging my thumb over our slits where precum gathered and rubbing it along our shafts.

“What do I do now? How do I get this inside me?” I whispered.

“Oh, fuck, Den.” Hank let out a ragged breath and damn, that made feel kind of powerful. I loved knowing he was as strung out as I was. That he wanted me as much as I wanted him.

“Should I suck you first?” I squeezed his cock and slid between his thighs, my lips hovering at his tip.

I didn’t wait for a response. I just opened up wide and took as much of him as I could handle, gripping his base in a tight fist. My blowjob game was improving. A few weeks ago, I’d gagged and choked in my efforts to impress him. Now, I took my time. Let me just say, patience really did pay off.

Hank flattened his feet on the mattress, grabbing my hair and thrusting into my mouth. I relaxed my throat and let him take what he wanted. Five or six strokes in, he pushed me off his dick, his eyes hazy with desire as he scrambled for the lube on the nightstand.

“C’mere. Lie down. Show me your pretty hole, sweetheart.”

Christ, I was blushing. I had to be. I wasn’t supposed to like being called sweetheart. It was corny. And no one had ever told me I had a pretty hole. That was…weird, wasn’t it? It didn’t matter what I thought—my cock was on board. I obeyed, spreading my legs wide while Hank slipped a lubed digit inside me.

We’d done this often. I fucking loved having a finger or two inside me. Ass play was hot. It didn’t have to lead to anal, but I wanted it. I was so ready, it wasn’t even funny. I’d read countless how-to-please-your-lover-and-yourself articles online and I’d watched a little gay porn over the past couple of months. Hell, I’d even played with a newly purchased dildo. We’d both been tested, so there’d be no condom barrier. Just us.

This was a well-planned foray into uncharted territory and not gonna lie, I was nervous.