“Yeah, you?”
“Yeah, fucking ’ansum.” He brings his mouth to mine, grabbing the back of my thighs, lifting me and slamming me against the wall. “How was your date?” he says a few seconds later.
He pins me up with his hip as he shucks his jacket, kissing me again before the fabric grazes the floor behind him.
“It was . . . fine. Yeah, it . . . was good. She’s . . . really nice,” I reply between kisses and catching my breath.
“Good. I’m glad it went well.” Eggo rolls his hips, his brow furrowing when the friction hits that sweet spot on the head of his cock. “Right, princess, what’s on the menu today?” he says.
I assume he’s referring to our sex menu. I’ve practiced prep. I’ve tested out douching in the shower and I’m sure it’s one of those things that’ll get easier and less icky the more often I do it, but for now, I’m still not confident, so I haven’t done it for tonight.
But there is something I’m very keen to try out.
“Fuck my face,” I say.
Eggo nearly drops me. “I was really hoping you’d say that.” He kisses me again, deeply this time, as though he’s testing out how much space there is inside my mouth.
“I’ve been doing some research about how to give good BJs,” I say when he breaks for air. Why? Why did I tell him that? I palm my face.
Those were inside thoughts, Aiden.Inside thoughts.
His fingers close around my wrist and pull my hand away. He raises an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What did it say?” He sets me down on the floor. “Where should we do this?”
“Couch. I’ll put Trekkie in the kitchen.” I move away from him and lock my dog behind a child gate, avoiding his first question.
But he’s not buying it. “Wait, what did your findings say? I’m genuinely curious. I’ve never done this before and like . . . I’ve had it done to me, so in theory I should know what to do, but . . .”
I find it easier to talk to him if I’m moving, so I walk through to the lounge and guide him towards the couch and onto his bum.
“It said to use lots of saliva.” I close the blinds. “To keep teeth out of the mix.” I flick the softer lamp by the window on and turn the big light off. “To experiment and be responsive to your partner’s subtle cues.” I switch the TV to Spotify and play my randomised but highly curated “mood-enhancing” playlist.
“Well, duh. I already know all of that. That’s just common BJ sense.”
“Right. It also said to encourage your partner to be vocal and tell you what they do and don’t like.”
“Oh, I can be vocal.” He smiles. “I can be so fucking vocal, princess.”
It’s something that I’m going to struggle with when it’s my turn, but I’ll deal with that problem when I get there. I kneel at his feet.
“Oh, fuck.”
Pull my hoodie and T-shirt off.
“Fuck, Pi. This is really happening, oh my god.” He leans forward and tugs his sweatshirt off, tossing it to the other end of the sofa.
I reach over, undo his belt, and unzip his fly. He lifts his bum off the seat so I can tug his jeans off. There’s already a tiny patch of moisture seeping through his marl-grey jocks.
“Okay, move closer to me,” I say, guiding him forwards a little. I lean over and lay a gentle kiss right under his belly button, then I trace the line of hairs down to the waistband of his undies with my tongue.
He tastes the way he smells. Like washing powder, and some kind of lightly spiced shower gel, and of his clean, lived-in skin. It’s fucking hot. I hook my fingers either side of his jocks and work the waistband down over his cock. He tucks the elastic under his balls and bends his arm behind his head to use as a pillow. And there he his, spread out in front of me in all his very hairy, very nearly naked glory.
“Okay,” I say, and mime stretching out the muscles in my neck and arms. He laughs, but joke’s on him because I’ve already spent twenty-five minutes stretching and limbering up before he arrived.
“You got this, princess. I’m a simple creature with simple needs, and I’m extremely easy to please. I don’t think you can go far wrong.”
Here goes nothing.
I wrap my fingers around his cock and lift it away from his stomach, then I lick the precum from his slit. He flinches.
