“They’re hibernating, city boy.”I nudged him playfully.
The temperature was dropping.I was used to it, but he wasn’t, so we went back to the cottage.Coming back to a warm cottage was nice.He stood in front of the fire, shivering, with his coat still on.
“We could sleep by the fire,” I said.
“Floor’s too hard.”
“We can put blankets down.”
“Sure, okay,” he said.
“It’ll be like summer camp.”
When he gave me a blank stare, I realized he’d never gone to summer camp.He never complained about his childhood, but I’d picked up from the little he’d let drop that his family didn’t have much money.Enough for rent and food but not much for extras.He still lived like that.He never treated himself to anything, I guessed because he never knew when or if he’d get another job.
When I started making real money, I was going to spoil him, treat him to everything he’d ever wanted.We went into the bedroom.I rolled up the bedding and threw it over my shoulder.He picked up the pillows and followed me into the living room where I unrolled the blankets on the floor by the fire.He put the pillows by the edge of the bedding.He presented an irresistible target, so I tackled him around the waist and dropped him onto the blankets on his back, straddling him on all fours.He didn’t fight me.He trusted me completely and just lay there relaxed, so I kissed him while he felt me up a little.
“You’re tense,” he said.
He was right.I usually had a hot shower after tap practice, but we’d gone straight outside to look at the stars.
“You want a massage?”he said.
I was sweaty, but he’d never minded before, and if he didn’t mind now...“I’d love that.”
“Lie down.”
I let him up, and he pulled off his coat and threw it at the couch.He missed by a couple of feet.
“You gonna pick that up?”I said.
“Later.Turn over.”
He almost never asked me for anything.It was even rarer for him to tell me to do something for him.It was...a turn-on.I rolled over, and he straddled my waist.
“My left hammy’s tight,” I said.
“Your what?”
“My left hamstring.”I held the back of my thigh, because I figured he didn’t know what a hamstring was.“Can you work on that?”
“Sure,” he said.“Take your jeans off.”
I got them undone and shucked them off, then I lay on my stomach.
He ran his hands along the back of my thigh.
“You can go a lot harder than that,” I said.
He drove his thumbs into my leg, hard enough to push it into the bedding, and I hissed, flexing my knee.That was more like it.
“Okay?”he said.
“Harder.”
He dug into me, and I straightened my leg.Then he moved his hands up to my shoulders, pressing deep into the muscle.
“Good?”he said.
