Page 52 of The Frathole

“You know what stuff.”

“Stuffis a vague word.” He’s really playing it up, overdramatically shifting his expression about. “You could meananything.”

“Definitely referring to the fact that you were probing my mouth last night with your tongue.”

“Oh, the we-might-not-be-as-straight-as-we-thought thing?” he asks, his cocky grin returning.

“Yeah, sure.”

He shrugs. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised I can turn a guy. Just got the talent.”

I have to keep from rolling my eyes, since I’m sure that would give him exactly what he wants. “Technically, that means I turned you too, so do I have the talent?”

“Who says I’m turned? I’m totally straight.” That charming smile suggests he knows damn well that’s not true. “I told you I was just trying to help you out with getting girls. And I assessed your kiss. Saw there were no major issues there.”

“Nomajorissues? So there are minor ones you wanted to discuss?”

He tilts his head, his lips twisting downward. “Eh…I think it’s something we should work on together.” He leans closer, the tip of his nose brushing up against mine, his minty breath filling my mouth.

For some reason, that smart-ass attitude that normally grates has me worked up. “Well, when is our next session gonna be since you’re about to go to sleep?”

He licks up my lips before kissing me again, his tongue sweeping across mine, and I understand now why I was so pissed with him. Because when he didn’t reply, I was afraid I wasn’t gonna get this again.

“I think I can take a little time for another study session,” he whispers into my mouth. “You need all the practice you can get.”

Our lips smack with wet kisses.

His hand travels to my crotch, pressing along my cock until it’s peeking out of my pants.

“There it is,” he says.

As he applies more pressure, I roll my head back, breaking our kiss. His breath slams against my cheek as he continues stroking me.

“Are you sure you haven’t been with a guy before?” I ask because I don’t get how he knows exactly how to get me worked up.

“Not yet,” he says. “But we could change that. Do you want to change that?”

He offers another generous stroke, and my body vibrates, clearly eager to explore more. There’s a cluster of confusion spinning in the back of my mind—all the valid reasons why we shouldn’t do this.

This isn’t like me at all.

I’m not impulsive or sex-crazed. But especially with how on edge he had me over not responding to my texts, and now to have him working my cock, it’s more than I can bear.

On top of that, I like that he’s in a better mood now, and maybe this could offer him a distraction from the shit news he found out today.

“What do you want to try?” I ask.

“Wouldn’t mind getting this fat thing out and playing with it some.”

The fuck?

15

Ryan

Iwas insuch a funk after my parents told me about the divorce. Spent hours feeling more down than I’ve felt in my entire life. But now that I have Marty’s lips against mine, feeling that hard girth under his pants, hell, it’s the only thing that brings me relief.

“Uh…” Marty says, which makes me pull away from him.