Page 24 of Brought By the Storm

“I doubt it,” I assured him. “We haven’t even done anything, and you’ve already had my…dick stiffer than I think it’s ever been.” I flushed, then silently chastised myself for doing so, feeling it would remind him of the prissy society girls.

He gave me a quizzical look. “Dick? I assume it’s your word of choice for your manhood? I’ll remember to use it henceforth.”

“Huh? What do you like to call it?

He smiled. “Well, now I like to call it a dick. Yes, it has a blunt, masculine sound to it.”

I chuckled. “You’re kind of weird. Maybe the girls didn’t know if they were supposed to moan or laugh.”

“Why not both?” he asked. “Why can’t sex be fun?”

“Hmm, to quote you—indeed. Perhaps I shall strive for that, henceforth.”

He gave me his big-toothed smile and tapped me on the shoulder. “Don’t mock my way of speaking, Mr. Turner. I learned English at Oxford University and blend well when in London, thank you very much.”

I pretended to become serious. “High-society London, maybe.”

He rolled his eyes. “Back to your dick predicament. Are you still suffering from said stiffness? Do you think we should do something to remedy it?”

I gulped. “Um, I didn’t think you’d want to see a guy’s dick, let alone do something with it.”

“As opposed to doing something with a woman’s dick?” He snickered. I looked at him with confusion. “You said a guy’s dick…”

“Oh,” I whispered. He did go back and forth between hot and silly.

“I’m sure you have a beautiful dick.” He grinned. “Everything about you so far has been a work of art.” He paused and became serious. “But I appreciate you thinking about it. I am nervous, truth be told. I don’t know what I’m doing. I just know I like being with you. This conversation is one of the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”

“Me too,” I confessed.

“I’d like to kiss you,” he whispered. “Would that be permissible?”

I swallowed hard and nodded. I couldn’t think of anything I wanted more. He moved his face to mine, taking one last look at my lips before pressing his own against them. His mouth was warm and strong, and a lock of his long, brushed-back hair fell forward, tickling my nose as he moved his face to get a better angle. He seemed frustrated that he still wasn’t close enough, moving his body onto mine.

“Are you okay? Am I too heavy?” he whispered. I shook my head no without answering, pulling his mouth back to mine. I wanted him so much. I mortified myself by making little sounds when he started tasting me with his tongue, inserting it between my now parted lips. “Yes, Eric, I love the way you moan,” he whispered, before taking my mouth once more.

“Will you take your shirt off too?” I begged. “I want to feel your chest against mine.”

He raised his torso so he could remove the T-shirt, revealing his lightly haired chest. It was a thing of beauty. His pecs were mounds of muscle, and his nipples were about the same size as mine and just as hard. With him leaning over me, they were pointing down at my mouth, like an invitation to be sucked. I took the chance and bent up toward him, taking his right tit into my mouth, licking, and sucking. He moaned and grabbed my face with urgent hands, pressing my mouth against his wet nub. “Oh God, Eric. I love watching that little mouth,” he gasped.

“I want you so much,” I admitted. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you’re the best-looking guy I’ve ever seen.”

Carrington pushed me back down on the pillow and latched his mouth on my left nipple while tweaking and rubbing the other one. I put my right hand over my face, covering my excitement and hoping to stifle my noises. “Don’t,” he panted. “Let me see you.” He moved my hand away from my face and surprised me by grabbing my dick through the pajama pants. He started moving his hand up and down, creating glorious friction. I couldn’t stop my cries. Carrington began kissing my neck and throat, lifting his face from mine to watch me squirming in pleasure. “You are so beautiful,” he rasped.

“I’m going to come,” I warned.

He donned a mischievous, lustful grin. “Yes, do it, baby. I want to see that sweet face of yours when you come.”

I couldn’t hold back any longer. I knew I was going to mess up my pajama pants, but the ecstasy overtook me. I came as his hand ground into me, almost lifting my legs from the mattress. I did my best to keep my voice low, muttering a few F-bombs while tugging at my own hair. When my emissions stopped, Carrington pushed his mouth back to mine. When he pulled away, he smiled. “Sweet Eric.”

“Carrington,” was all I could whisper, then I grabbed his hair to tilt his mouth back to mine. He kissed me much more softly.

After a couple of moments, he smiled. “You good?”

I nodded. He looked down at my messed-up pajama bottoms. “Sorry about that,” I said.

“For what?” he asked. “Don’t start feeling guilty.”

“Are you okay?” I wondered. After all, he was the straight guy who had just had sex with a man.