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He slips his hand around my waist, pressing the soft curls on his chest to my back, blanketing me in body heat. I gasp when his slick hand closes around my cock and coats it.
Nuzzling behind my ear, his words are like a firebrand on my skin. “Even if I’m not a gentleman and think filthy things about you all the time?”
“Especially then,” I insist. “But I'm standing right here, so stop thinking.”
When I open my eyes, his smiling face is looking back at me. I never knew a man could look so happy. I never imagined I could make someone so happy. We stare at each other like fools for a beat, and then I crane my head back to steal a kiss.
Pete must be trying to impress me with dual sensations, because he pushes in as our tongues tangle, but I’m ready. I’m so ready. I push out, taking him in with one eager, practiced gulp of my body, stuffing myself full of my man the way I want the rest of my life to be overwhelmed by him.
“Fuck,” he rasps, breaking away from our kiss to gasp. His fingers dig into my hips and his mouth drops open like he’s just achieved Nirvana. “Yeah, we’ll take it,” he pants, eyes slipping closed.
My body racks a laugh, helpless to it. His lust-hazed eyes meet mine, and he smiles. I take in the sight of us like a photograph. It’s then that I notice.
I’m… different, somehow. I can’t quite explain it, but it feels like each time I looked in the mirror before today, I just saw a reflection, a stranger, even. Now, though, I see me. I think I finally see what Pete sees.
Reaching back, I clasp a handful of his ass as he begins to move. Each flex of his muscles underneath my touch amplifies the sense of connection. It’s like we’re both rowing in tandem, sailing over blissful waves.
“Tell me how it feels?” he begs, his open mouth against my cheek.
“It feels like my life is perfect because you love me.”
I hear his breath catch. He presses his forehead to my shoulder and stops, squeezing me tight in his arms. Did he just… sniffle?
I angle my head back, needing to know that he’s okay. “What?”
“That’s not what I meant, but I know exactly what you mean.”
I capture his smile with mine, encasing my heart in warmth. We said we’d do everything together. I’m glad that included falling in love.
The floor creaks with each shift of our bodies. I can feel that wonderful pitch building in my legs, my abdomen, and my balls. Is that what Pete feels, too?
“We can try to switch sometime if you want,” I pant, feeling guilty for never having offered before. I thought maybe he asks me how it feels as a sort of bedroom talk, but perhaps he’s adding my responses to his “research”.
He tenses, the glide of his hips faltering. Is it too much talk during sex or has he decided that he’s a strict top? I’m perfectly happy bottoming, more than happy, but the thought of bringing Pete another means of pleasure is enticing.
“We don’t have to,” I assure him. “I just wanted you to know that if you wanted to, I’d try for you.”
“I…I am curious but…”
“But what?” I meet his gaze in the mirror. That sounded ominous. Now, I need to know.
Pursing his lips, he looks uncomfortable. How can my bold-talking Pete be uncomfortable?
“Your dick scares the shit out of me,” he lets out in a rush.
“What? What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s fucking huge.”
Is he messing with me? I gape at my reflection, at the cock I’ve carted around my entire life. It just looks like my cock. Yeah, it’s bigger than Pete’s, but I saw some porn that definitely proved there are guys who are bigger than me.
“It is?”
“Yes,” he lets out, sounding amused as he glides his palm around my stomach and gives his hips a little nudge that produces a tingle in my navel.
I moan, soaking up the sensation, but I can’t stop staring at my reflection now. Watching my dick bob up and down as I meet his little thrusts.
I never went out for sports in school, so I didn’t get the whole locker room experience. Pete didn’t either from what he’s told me. How would a former straight guy know about dick sizes? I stop mid-thrust, twisting my shoulders to look back at him.
