But more than that, I wish I could’ve gotten five minutes alone before the cleanup. I wanted to jack off right here, staring at the dried cum on my skin while replaying the way guy after guy pulsed inside me.
But I wouldn’t have that luck. One of them always stays behind after the session, like I’ll short-circuit if I’m left alone with my own post-nut clarity. At this point, I wish they’d realize that post-nut clarity isn’t a thing for me. But apparently, aftercare is non-negotiable to the entire house.
Reid reaches for my face, his fingers tracing where my lip split earlier. It’s clean now—that was his priority the second we got back from the park, wiping the cum off my face with pissed-off motions while telling me to keep my mouth shut. He checked the cut under the bathroom light, tilting my chin up and pressing his thumb into the corner of my mouth to see how deep the split went. Satisfied it was inside my lip and not contaminated withsome random dude’s load, he shoved me under the shower to get rid of the cum on the rest of my body.
I get why he was mad. That shit could’ve been really dangerous.
Now, in the tub, Reid’s hands are much gentler, even if his expression remains sour.
“You’re lucky,” he mutters. “You know that, right?”
I just stare at him. Honestly, I don’t even know what the correct response to that is, so I keep my mouth shut. His jaw ticks at my silence.
“Stop that,” he snaps. “You’re not in mode right now. You don’t have to be a fucking statue.”
“Sorry.”
He sighs before dumping shampoo onto my head and starting to wash my hair. Except “washing” is a massive overstatement for the kind of aggression he’s using.
“You’re gonna rip my hair out by the roots, man,” I mutter, craning my neck back to try and catch his eye.
His jaw is clenched.
“There’s still some cum in it,” he grunts. Still, his grip loosens up, those heavy thumbs pressing slow circles into my temples instead.
It feels ridiculously good, so I sink back into his hands, completely letting him massage my scalp.
“Why do you like it?” he asks suddenly.
“The massage?”
“This stuff.This kind of kink.” His voice isn’t judgy. He sounds genuinely curious. And still a little pissed, too. “Doesn’t it fuck with your head after?”
I glance pointedly at my dick, bobbing lazily in the water.
“No part of me feels bad about it. Not my mind.” I flick my cockhead, making it twitch. “And definitely not my body.”
Reid’s eyes track the movement, his nostrils flaring.
“You’re such a freak,” he mutters, but it sounds like praise.
“I know.” I grin at him.
“Sorry,” he says quietly, running his hands through my hair to rinse out the suds. “Didn’t mean it like that.”
“Nah, I know what I am. And I think being a freak is awesome.”
Reid’s fingers pause. “You’renota freak, Kit.”
I snort.
“Kit.”
“Reid,” I say, mimicking his serious tone. “I just spent two hours in a park letting strangers fuck me and I’m still hard thinking about it. The freak diagnosis is pretty locked in.”
“As far as kinks go, yours isn’t even that hardcore.”
I snort again, bubbles dripping down my nose.
