Page 28 of Next Season
Jean-Claude traced my jaw with his forefinger, rubbing his thumb along my chin. “Me too. I like you and I’m attracted to you. Unlike you, I know the reasons. It’s because you are very hot and you have a beautiful cock and…a very sexy ass.”
I burst out laughing. “You like my ass?”
He nodded slowly, a lecherous half smile teasing the corner of his mouth. “Very much. It’s perfectly round and muscular. Let me see it.”
“Right now?”
“Yes, right now. Lie on your stomach.” He gestured impatiently for me to obey. “Good boy.”
“Don’t call me that,” I growled into the pillow, wincing when he smacked my ass hard enough to leave a handprint a moment later. “Ow!”
Jean-Claude smoothed his palm over each cheek, pinching and squeezing my butt, and grazing his fingers in between my crack. Now, come on. If anything was going to snap me out of this queer phase I’d stumbled upon, that would surely be it.
But no.
His featherlight touch ignited a spark deep inside me. I closed my eyes and willed myself to relax and enjoy. I sank into the sensation, parting my thighs slightly as he massaged and explored. Within a few minutes, I was hard again and humping the mattress for friction while trying not to be too obvious about it. Impossible. He straddled me, resting his erection between my cheeks, then pulling them apart and rocking his hips suggestively.
Jean-Claude covered me like a blanket, molding his chest to my back and licking the shell of my ear. “This is very gay.”
“Mmm…yes.”
“Should I stop?”
“No, don’t stop. I mean, don’t try to fuck me, but…don’t stop. This feels good,” I moaned.
He lifted himself above me and slid down my body. “I can make it even better.”
I missed the weight of him immediately, but before I could protest, he rubbed his beard over my ass, parted my cheeks, and licked my hole.
I bucked in surprise. “Holy shit. What are you doing?”
“This is called rimming. It’s also very gay, although I think straight people like it too. Maybe you did this with a girlfriend. Don’t tell me. I’ll get jealous.”
I couldn’t string a coherent sentence together to save my life. I’d never been with a woman who wanted this, and I had no clue how amazing it felt. But as he helped me to my knees and urged me to hold on, I silently acknowledged that I wouldn’t have wanted to do this with anyone but Jean-Claude. There was something about being fucking owned and dominated by someone physically imposing yet so…gentle.
Christ, the things he did to me. My knuckles were white as I clutched the wooden slat on the headboard and gave in to pleasure. He took me apart, licking me as if I were his favorite flavor of ice cream. My dick was rock hard, dripping precum on the pillow underneath me. I tried to dip my hips in a quest for friction, but he smacked my ass and anchored me in place. In the back of my mind, I wondered why I didn’t push him away. This was some kind of pleasure torture, and I wasn’t into that.
Except, I was. His rough hands and talented tongue kept me grounded. And when he reached between my thighs to stroke me as he pressed a single digit into my hole, I was a goner. There was no point in denying that I wanted this. I would have taken anything he offered just then. His cock in my ass…sure, why not?
I came down from a satisfied high in bits and pieces, unwrapping my fingers from the headboard and easing my body onto the mattress and into his arms.
And check this out: I fell asleep on his chest. No shit.
I woke in the middle of the night, squinting at the sound of rustling in the dark. “You’re leaving.”
Jean-Claude moved to my side of the bed and planted a chaste kiss on my forehead. “It’s almost dawn. I fell asleep, but don’t worry. If anyone sees me, I was making an emergency tuna salad delivery. That’s my story, and I will stick to it.”
I chuckled and pulled him close for a proper kiss. He told me to go to sleep and I did, but damn, I missed him in the morning.
* * *
“We receivedyour recent MRI report this morning. Occipital neuralgia.”
I sighed, adjusting my earbuds as I settled onto the chaise end of the basement sectional. “Yeah, but we already knew that. It’s a pretty common sports injury.”
“I know what it is,” Coach Marsden replied. “And I know that the visual distortion and partial blindness is most likely temporary, but it’s not going away anytime soon if you don’t take care of it. Avoid bright lights, avoid extensive exercise…and you should be seeing a masseuse too. Did that doctor give you a nerve block shot?”
“Yeah. I’m following protocol, checking in with the local doc, wearing sunglasses everywhere, and I’m trying to stay in shape without overdoing it. Vinnie has a skating treadmill at the new sports facility he opened. I’m using it regularly since I’ve been told to stay out of the rink, which sucks, but…look, it’s been a month and I know this isn’t ideal—”