Page 10 of Just the tip

I woke in darkness,burning up. The shorts I’d fallen asleep in were twisted and bunched up around my right thigh. My back was sweaty, and I was surrounded by a cocoon of heat that I shortly realized was just Graham pressed all up against me, the curves of his back molded to my chest.

I shoved the covers down and was debating whether I was too lazy to walk the thirty feet to my own bedroom and my own bed, when Graham shifted.

It was such a tiny fucking movement, just a slight tilt of his hips that pushed his ass tighter against my crotch, but Jesus, I felt it from the tips of my toes to the top of my head.

I froze, breath shallowing out, afraid to move. Graham exhaled a drowsy sigh. Then came another press of his ass against me. It had to be incidental, right? But I couldn’t help but think it felt just a tiny bit like he was grinding into me on purpose. No, that was ridiculous. He definitely wouldn’t do that. Plus, I was straight. Okay, I was generally straight. Or thought I was until Graham started getting me all fucking confused. Maybe he was dreaming, mistaking me for some dude he’d brought home. I bristled at the thought, but my dick didn’t seem to care. That nudge of his hips had woken it right the hell up and thrust me into the same angsty state of arousal I remembered all too well from the night I’d caught him in the bathroom.

Graham’s next movement dragged his ass up the stiff ridge of my cock, and I choked back a groan at the friction on my head. The shorts and underwear I had on felt like mummy wrappings, and the heat of Graham’s ass was a damn inferno. No fucking way he was asleep. He was definitely, definitely messing with me. But when I started to open my mouth to say something, he exhaled another one of those moan-y sighs that sent a shivery thrill sliding down my spine, and I fucking couldn’t. So I guessed I’d just be lying there like an idiot for the rest of the night, trapped by my own boner, my stepbrother, and sheer confusion over what the fuck was even happening right now.

Except I didn’t just lie there.

I wanted him in a perverted, filthy way I knew I wasn’t supposed to, and somewhere between Graham’s breathy noises and the precum beading on the tip of my cock, my hips started moving too. I kept it slow and light enough that it could definitely be incidental if he truly was awake. One unhurried drag of my aching cock up the fabric-covered furrow of his ass under the guise of straightening out my leg and getting more comfortable. Fuck, it felt so good.Sogood. His ass was firm as hell. Surely another stroke wouldn’t hurt. The sheets were a little tangled around my legs, after all, and…fucccccckkkkkkkkk. This time I met resistance—tantalizing, ball-zinging resistance—that created tortuous pressure on my head, like Graham was pressing back as I pressed forward.

But when I zeroed in on his shoulders and neck, all I could see was that same slow, steady rise and fall, the deep breaths of sleep.

God, I wanted to take my clothes off so badly, but that would definitely wake him and possibly make things even more awkward than me trying to subtly sleep-hump him.

But maybe I could at least ditch my shirt?

Ever so carefully, I wriggled one arm out of the tee, managed to get the collar over my head, and eased it down the other arm. It was the clothing equivalent of a perfectly executed three-point turn.

Then, I inched a little closer to Graham, and when I could literally feel the body heat of his bare skin fusing to mine, my nipples pebbled up. I bit my lip, fucking vexed, because what the hell did I think I was going to do now that I was shirtless in my stepbrother’s bed, nipples and dick rock fucking hard as I tried to stealth rub one out against his ass?

This was perverted. So fucking perverted, and yet…I wasn’t moving. And had zero desire to. Distantly, I wondered if maybe someone had laced my drinks with something. Like…some sort of Viagra for bad fucking ideas. In my head, I heard Graham’s teasing voice telling me that was the dumbest shit thing he’d ever heard of, and fuck if that didn’t get me even harder.

I let out a ragged, desperate breath, resolving that I’d get up and leave.

Just one more little nudge, one more little…

Fuck, I stifled another groan because his ass was perfect. Fucking fantasy-fulfilling perfect in its roundness. I craved to touch it, grip that granite hardness and squeeze, spread him open, and…I gasped as Graham’s hips jerked suddenly against me, pleasure racing up my swollen shaft. Had that been on purpose, or was it one of those sleep twitches? That I couldn’t tell drove me crazy as much as it turned me on.

Before the responsible part of my brain could catch up—the part that was trying to flash theWRONG!warning behind my eyelids—I reached out gingerly and hooked a couple of fingers over the band of Graham’s briefs, then dragged them down an inch before going still and waiting to see if he’d move.

When nothing happened, I dragged them down a little farther, sucking in a quiet breath as my fingertip slid over the furrow of his ass. On a level of one to hell, how bad would it be if I slipped my finger in that tight crevice and buried it inside him? Fuck me, I was sweating just imagining it.

I weighed the pros and cons with a total sense of surreality creating a blissful haze around me until Graham let out a petulant grunt as he shifted, and then I seized that opportunity—for better or perverse—to shove his boxers just below those tight asscheeks.

Then I slowly, stealthily unzipped my shorts and freed my cock. A few breathless seconds later, Graham’s chest still rising and falling measuredly, I had his ass nestled against my rock-hard, aching shaft. When I was able to move my hips a little, I could just manage to maneuver my raging hard-on between the incredibly tight, incredibly hot junction of Graham’s ass and thighs.

Filthy pleasure rolled through my core, and precum slid from my tip, a tiny, cautious thrust smearing it along his thighs and easing my passage as I pulled back and slid forward again.Jesus fuckit was good. Gently, ever so gently, I laid a hand over his hip and gripped him, eyes trying to roll back in my head as I glided forward again. It was a tiny amount of movement, maybe a centimeter or two, but pleasure carpet-bombed the head of my cock as if multiple hands were stroking me all at once. It was the thrill of the darkness, of the fucked-up situation, and hell, the fact that Graham and I had been at odds for what felt like forever, but right now he was pure hot ecstasy pressed up against me.

I kept my hold on him light, his back still pressed against my chest, and I slid by tiny fractions of an inch between his legs, my slick cock rubbing over the hot skin of his thighs, the wiry abrasion of his hair, and the incredible softness of his sac. How I wished I could slide my dick inside his tiny little hole, see how tight he was. Maybe not even the whole thing. I wouldn’t get greedy. Just the tip. Just the very fucking tip would be enough.

My breathing shallowed out, and I was having trouble keeping quiet when I became aware that Graham was moving too, just barely, the same as I was. But it was movement all the same. I let out a muffled groan of arousal and slammed my eyes shut as his thighs squeezed around my cock. Then I went stock still, waiting.

He had to be awake, right? It couldn’t be that he was fucking back against me in his sleep, somehow caught in a dream? Or could it? He could totally be half-asleep, I rationalized. He’d been hammered, after all, which of course made the case for how in the wrong I was. I’d given him a ride home, and now I was taking advantage of him. And even if he was a jerk ninety percent of the time, or even if he was fucking with me right at this very moment—an idea I somehow didn’t doubt but which also didn’t entirely make sense—I needed some kind of explicit consent, right? This was…this was dubious at best, but Jesus, it also felt filthy good, dangerously good, and I was pretty sure it never would’ve happened inanyother scenario. Which absolutely didn’t make it right, but didn’t it make it a tiny bit more understandable?

His thighs squeezed against my cock again, and I clamped down on my lower lip to keep another groan from pouring over the back of his neck. Did the fact that he was moving count as consent? The fact that he was driving me to the edge of madness?

I was so close, anyway, so fucking close to blowing a load. I definitely couldn’t do that on him, though, no matter how hot it got me to think about. No, that was out of the question. I’d have to pull back and use my hand because the alternative—well, that was definitely a bridge too far, no matter how amazing it sounded.

One more slow, indulgent glide of my cock, where I felt every inch of Graham’s sweaty skin, one more press of my fingers to his hips, nose buried near the nape of his neck, inhaling the boozy, salty scent of him, and that would be it. I promised myself.

I froze at the sound of a door opening, footsteps padding down the hall. In the haze of lust, I’d hardly noticed dawn creeping underneath Graham’s blackout curtains. I blinked a few times with sudden awareness, dragged out of my orgasm-chasing fugue. I let go of Graham, suddenly horrified by the bare skin of his back, my stiff cock pressed up against his ass, and what it meant.

“Terrible idea,” I whispered to myself.

While I wanted to leap from the bed and race back to my room, I made myself move slowly, tucking my dick away, zipping my shorts tooth by fucking tooth, and then ninja-sliding from the bed. Graham didn’t move, and while I was overwhelmingly grateful, a tiny part of me wished he’d rolled over, reached out, and grabbed me the way he had earlier. Or even acknowledged me somehow.