Page 42 of Show Me

“Everything we’re saying sounds really obviously fake. I mean, not that that’s any different from a regular porn, but it’s throwing us off, I guess.”

Sam pulled the curtain back farther, and I glued my gaze to his face and not the naked glory of his body, his sequoia quads, giant arms, and flagging Cocktimus Prime.

He raked a hand through his hair, skimming the water from his golden crown. “What if we try something different? We’re trying to make something sound natural that’s just…not. What if we just lean into it? Go full fucking force into the fantasy. We sound like we’re afraid of the other person making fun of us. What if we embrace the ridiculous premise? Go into it full throttle. Say some ridiculous shit to me, who cares? If we crack each other up or screw this up, whatever.”

I nodded slowly and swallowed. “Okay, I’m game to try.” I let my gaze drift lower to his semi and licked my lips. “I really want to touch you,” I confessed.

Sam’s gaze jerked to mine, his expression bewildered, as if I’d caught him off guard. Maybe we were supposed to count down or something?

“You do?”

Sam wanted full throttle? He was going to get it. I nodded. “Can I?”

He gave me another one of those slow, glaze-eyed nods.

Closing my eyes, I steadied my breath, then blinked them open and pressed forward resolutely, wrapping my hand around his dick.Oh Jesus, it was huge. Huge and silky and wet and so very fucking warm in my hand that my mouth watered.

I squeezed it, and Sam’s eyes fell shut for a second as he grimaced with the pleasure, then seemed to remember himself. “I’m not…I’m not…are…goddamn.”

I bit back a smile.

“It’s okay,” I said softly, soothingly. “Just let me help you out. Roommate to roommate. It’s no big deal. It feels good, right? That’s all this is about, making you feel good. It doesn’t have to mean anything else.”

“Jesus Christ,” Sam whispered, eyes burning into mine, confusion crossing into his expression again. It was obvious he was waffling on whether this was some part of the script he’d forgotten or if this was me going with the flow. He pursed his lips like he was about to say something, then blew out a slow breath instead, gaze dropping to my hand on him. “You’re sure?”

“I’ve been thinking about it all fucking day, trust me.” I didn’t even have to pretend about that either.

I danced my fingertips over the head of his cock and teased my thumb over Sam’s tight slit until I was gifted with a slippery dollop of precum and a slow, carefully measured exhale from him. I knew he leaked like a motherfucker. Now that it was game on? I couldn’t wait to have him dripping.

“Shit,” he whispered as I began pumping his shaft. “Oh shit, that’s so fucking good, Jes—ImeanJosh.” He wet his lips absently and fumbled for the towel bar in the shower, gripping it hard, knuckles pulsing in time to my strokes. The other hand fisted the shower curtain. I bet he didn’t even notice, but I did. I reveled in the small signs of him coming undone, soaking myself in them while I grew harder.

I had to focus to keep the camera aimed at the right place with my free hand, mesmerized as I was by the forward-and-back surge of his hips, how the powerful muscles of his quads, ass, and thighs flexed and contracted as he fucked into my fist.

I kept flickering gauging glances up at Sam’s face to make sure it felt good and that he was okay, though it was shortly apparent that I didn’t need to. I was pretty A-1 whether it came to jerking a guy or blowing him, and Sam’s blissful expression reflected that. I didn’t really have anything to prove to him either. I couldn’t change his sexuality and, in a way, that added an element of liberation to this experience when I thought about it.

I was free to indulge every underlying straight-boy fantasy I’d ever had, and I was hell-bent on enjoying the hell out of ticking this box off by showing him the best damn time he’d ever have with a guy.

Plus, it wasn’t every day I had a cock the size of Maryland asserting states’ rights on my hand. I couldn’t fucking wait to get it in my mouth, eventually. The fun would really start then.

15

Sam

Ihadn’t worried about staying hard with Jesse because I didn’t find Jesse repugnant in the least, and a hand on my cock was a hand on my cock. But I also hadn’t worried about coming too soon either, and it was quickly becoming clear I should’ve.

Because despite being a seasoned meat slapper and consummate self-edger, I’d underestimated just how fucking good Jesse’s touch would feel and how into it I’d be. The guy was talented, seemed to know instinctively when to ease up and when to go harder. His brows furrowed with concentration as he worked over my head, delicate little fingers twisting and rubbing, expertly gathering up all the precum dripping from my slit and spreading it around. I had trouble keeping my body in check. All kinds of things were trying to quiver or twitch or wiggle or shake with the pleasure rocketing through me at every expert glide of his fist. My quads firmed with tension as I tried to tamp down the instinct to buck wildly into his perfect, velvety grip.

“You like my hand on your dick?” Jesse lifted his eyes to meet mine, the flare of heat in them causing an unexpected spike of desire in me.

I nodded openmouthed like an imbecile.

That…was not in the script. Actually, I didn’t know if it was in the script or not. I’d forgotten the script entirely aside from the fact that Jesse was going to jerk me off and that the reality of this scenario was completely different than what I’d imagined in my head.

But in the best way possible.

I couldn’t stop staring at his fingers on my shaft. Every time they spread apart and closed together again, tightening around me and then twisting over my head, I was afraid I was going to lose my shit.

He was watching, too, one corner of his lower lip caught between his teeth in concentration. When he glanced up and caught me staring, he let go of his lip and smiled, a twinkle in his eye and a short jump of his brows that I translated asSee? Told you I was good at this.