His breath stutters, eyes darting over my face like he’s not sure where to look. “I—uh, thanks.” His voice catches as he fumbles for the duffle bag on the floor, movements quick and uneven. “Lube?”
“I got it.”
I fish out the bottle and a condom, then tug his boxers down. His half-hard cock springs free, and I groan at the sight, my eyes slowly raking over his smooth body. He flushes, turning his face toward the ceiling.
“Fuck, I love your cock,” I whisper, squiring lube into my palm. I loom above him as I stroke him slowly. He gasps, hips twitching, lashes fluttering as pleasure overtakes him.
“Look at me,” I demand.
Hunter obeys, his gaze locking with mine as I toy with him, thumb circling the sensitive head. His legs tremble beneath me as I tease his balls with my other hand, rolling them gently.
“Mason—fuck, I’ll come before I even get inside you if you keep that up,” he warns, his voice pitchy and breathless.
“And?” I press as I continue to stroke him.
“I want…”
I smirk. “What do you want, Hunter?”
He growls in frustration. “I want to fuck you.”
I hum smugly and bite my lower lip. “Then give me what I want first. Say nerdy things to me. Show me how much knowledge is in that pretty head of yours.”
He moans as I toy with his balls again. He lifts his hips to rut against my hand, but I quickly grab his waist, pinning him down.
His face flushes crimson. “Wh-what do you even want me to say?”
“Anything,” I murmur, stroking him harder. “I don’t care. Tell me about the trees.”
Hunter’s eyelashes flutter in pleasure as my grip tightens on his erection. His balls grow heavy as his orgasm builds.
“Oh, fuck,” he groans.
“The trees, Hunt,” I repeat impatiently.
Hunter moans as I squeeze him. “Oh, God. Okay. Trees. Uh—the ones around here are mostly paper birch,Betula papyrifera. They’re deciduous.”
“Deciduous,” I repeat cloddishly, and Hunter smiles to himself. I’m sure he would’ve snarkily corrected my pronunciation if he wasn’t so worked up right now.
I abruptly release his cock, and he lets out a desperate whine. I hush him as I peel off my boxers, my dick slapping against my abs, hard and leaking.I flip our positions, placing a pillow under my ass and hauling him on top of me with ease.
God, I love being able to manhandle him.
“Tell me what deciduous means while you finger me,” I command, shoving the lube toward him.
Hunter looks down at me as I spread my legs, exposing myself. He settles between my thighs and gazes down at me, jaw slack and eyes wide, like he’s hypnotized.
“Just do what you normally do to yourself,” I encourage. “Start slow. One finger.”
He nods slowly, applying a large glob of lube to his index finger. He slicks his finger and presses gently against my entrance, his glittery purple nail polish shimmering in the lamplight. I shiver at the cool touch as he slowly slides inside, his eyes locked on mine. It’s tight and uncomfortable, but it doesn’t hurt.
“Hunter—distract me,” I grit through clenched teeth. “Tell me what deciduous means.”
His breath hitches. “Fuck, okay, it means the leaves shed annually, and—”
My gasp cuts off his sentence as his finger curls just right against my prostate. I arch off the bed as he adds a second finger, stretching me with a delicious dull ache. I rock down against him, clenching, taking his fingers deeper.
“Is this okay?” he asks shyly.
