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He hums thoughtfully.
“Just out of curiosity, how do you see this going?” he asks. “Spell it out for me. What do you want?”
That’s a difficult question, and answering it makes me apprehensive. What do I want? I’ve always had pretty clear ideas about that, but Lake has upended everything. He’s wreaking havoc on all my priorities and goals and needs. I’ve been thinking about it since he took off that morning a few days ago. It only seemed fair that I did. It seemed fair to Lake, and to me, to spell out for myself what I want.
The answer, it turns out, is not that complicated. He makes my dick hard. He turns me on like nobody else ever has before. And… I can talk to him. More than that, even. I can be myself with him. One hundred percent. Because I can’t impress him. Even if I tried, he wouldn’t care. Most likely, he’d just laugh at me for being an idiot. I don’t know, it’s just strangely liberating being your most authentic self because that’s the only thing the other person wants from you.
So, really, all things considered, it’s pretty simple. Why wouldn’t I want more of that?
“More of what we did the other night,” I say.
He tilts his head to the side and observes me silently for a few seconds.
“Use your big boy words,” he says, amusement dancing in his eyes.
I roll mine in return. “More of my dick in your mouth,” I say. “Better?”
“It’s a start. What else?”
It feels strange discussing it like this—fully clothed, standing in Lake’s brightly lit apartment. Never done this before. Then again, I’ve never done anything like what I do with Lake before, so I guess it tracks.
I swallow. The room starts to feel stifling.
“Yours in mine?” I offer hesitantly. Not that I’m hesitant about wanting to blow him—I’m hesitant about my ability to make it good for him. It won’t stop me, but… It’s like being a newbie at anything. Just have to start somewhere and get that first, awkward, fumbling, self-conscious time over with, and then you’ll most likely get better. It’s all about practice.
“You want to suck me?” he asks.
More heat. My face is probably on fire by now.
“Yes.” I meet his gaze head-on and lift my chin. I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge, even those I set for myself.
It helps that I can see his breathing pick up at that. It helps to know he wants me, too. That it’s not just me who’s going a bit insane from wanting him.
“What else?” His voice is lower now. Husky.
I lick my lips. “Uh…”
And I run out of words.
Lake seems to find it increasingly amusing.
“Say it,” he says. “I want to hear you say it.”
I try to gather my thoughts. Try to find the words I need for this conversation.
“I want to fuck,” I say.
“Me?” he asks with a sardonic quirk of his brow.
“Can you see anybody else in this room this might be addressed to?”
He grins and waggles his brows.
“This is a two-way street, you know?” He moves, and the next thing I know he’s plastered against me from chest to toe. “You want to get in my ass, I want to get in yours.”
This room is definitely too hot.
So, yeah, I’ve thought about it. I mean, I’m currently still in the middle of wading through that six-month-long existential crisis, so of course I’ve thought about it, but so far it’s always been in a sort of abstract way. In a way where somebody putting their dick in my ass is something that might happen, the way a lot of things might happen. Like… I also might win the lottery or get hit by a bus. There’s always a possibility, but I don’t spend time actively considering it.
