Page 51 of Technical Advances

After smoothly sliding his glasses back on, his hand reached out, seeking mine. Our fingers loosely intertwined, Benji turned to walk forward, unbuttoning his shirt with the other hand as he went. His arm extended back, I followed behind him past a small, open kitchen to the door beyond it.

His room was neat, simple, and small. He turned to catch me looking around and shrugged. I dropped his hand and walked to the desk, where a laptop sat open next to a computer screen. Running my fingers across it, I asked, “Is this where you sit when we work remotely?”

“Mostly.” He nodded. “That first night I was out at the kitchen table, but yeah. This is where the magic happens.”

“Now I can really picture you, instead of imagining you when we’re not together.”

Another pink blush ran up his cheeks, visible even in the dimly lit room. “I sometimes imagine you in here with me. Or …”

He shook his head and walked toward me, dropping his loosened shirt to the floor.

We were touching skin to skin, and before I could ask him to elaborate, he kissed me again. Like flipping through a filing cabinet, I recalled past dalliances with other men, many older than Benji, some taller, some with the type of rippling muscles I thought I fancied. None of them, not a single one, made me feel the way I did with Benji wrapped around me, his lips somehow like fire and ice as they pressed on mine, feeling a pulsing that could only be my own chest but felt like his heart beating in tandem with mine.

I wanted to know what that “or” meant, but I couldn’t pull away from him to ask, not for a second. My hands found his hair and clamped down, locking his head in position. His found the small of my back, pressing there before venturing lower, fighting the tautness of my belt to slip down and brush the top of my glutes.

I turned us without stopping, the movement gentle despite the intensity of our passion, despite the grip we held on each other. Just a few steps and he was pressed against the desk. He pulled back quickly, eyeing the computer and shifting us down a few inches.

“Company issued.” He smiled against my lips. “I wouldn’t want to damage it.”

“Don’t care,” I assured him as my mouth found his again. He relaxed against the desk, his hands bracing on the wood, leaving his lower half free to lean into me. His hardness pressed against me, and I shoved my jean-clad thigh between his legs, rocking and moving in a way I hoped excited that hardness even more.

When he leaned back and moaned, I had my answer. His head snapped back quickly, desperate to find my lips, but that creamy-white exposed neck had beckoned to me, and I dodged his advance, however unintentionally, in favor of seeking out his Adams apple and trailing kisses from there, to his jaw, to the skin behind his ear, learning that it was sensitive there when he let out an even more debauched moan.

“I’ve dreamt of this,” I spoke against his throat, realizing in the moment that I had in fact dreamed of the two of us in a very similar position a few nights earlier.

Benji reached up and removed his glasses, placing them on the desk. When I stopped what I was doing to track his motion, his hand cupped the nape of my neck to guide me back to the spot behind his ear.

I kissed down his jaw, smiling. His evening stubble rubbed against my beard, and it made me pull back again as I realized I’d never noticed him as anything but smooth skinned in either the soft light of my office or the harsh light of the lab.

My hand found his cheek and traveled against the grain from his jaw line to his temple. Our lower halves not having received the memo that I had slowed things down, we continued to grind and seek each other out.

“Scruffy.” I smiled.

He responded by pulling the tie from around my ponytail and dropping it to the desk next to his glasses.

His fingers found my scalp and roughed my hair up for a few delicious moments.

“Shaggy,” he countered. He pulled my locks back with one hand and found that same sensitive spot behind my ear, rubbing his stubble against the area until chills traveled down one entire side of my body.

“I’ve dreamt of this too.” He kissed behind my ear, huffing breath on it as he continued. “This spot. Right here.” He kissed me there again. “Where I can smell your cologne. Where I knew I wanted to taste you.” He slowly licked down my neck before returning to suck and nibble on my earlobe. “Tastes even better than it smells.” He rubbed his cheek against the area once more, and the tingle of it against the wet surface had me arching into a moan, exposing my neck to him even more.

“You like that,” he huffed, knowing that the air on my sensitive skin was just another in a cacophony of sensations.

“Tell me where else you want to feel this scruff, baby, and I’ll tell you how I pictured your hair falling between us.” He gripped it then, giving a little tug that exposed my neck that much more.

I hissed an intake of breath as the sensation switched from rough stubble to light kisses, kisses that traveled to my collarbones, one hand gripping my hair tightly as the other dug possessively into my waist.

I may have had him pinned to the desk, but it was he who held me under his control; his maddingly light kisses were a counterbalance to the grip on my hair and the press of my groin against him.

“More.” Was that me, sounding so needy? I determined that yes, it was, as my equally needy hands found the button on his well-pressed pants, fumbling to pry it open.

He pulled back, looking down between us. We’d barely made room for my hands to find purchase, our desire seeking each other, rocking as if in independent communication. I held my fingers steady, tucked in the waistband of his pants, until he nodded.

He gave a little shove of his hips as he did, the feeling of it rocketing through me. Like my desire could never be quenched, I leaned down again, seeking his lips, my hands still fumbling, trembling. He thrust one time and put a hand on my pec.

I watched as his eyes followed the track of his hand, fingertips brushing my skin down the center of my chest. I thought he meant to reach for my belt buckle, but instead, his hand found mine and grasped it tight.

I heaved a sigh and stepped back, but Benji pulled me down by the neck with his free hand, the gentle force of it conveying a sense of urgency even as the move was slow. He kissed me then, softly, until I felt his smile widen. Even with my eyes closed, I could picture it, picture him, his eyes dancing, our fingers intertwined, our bodies flush, our cocks pressed together in a way that I wanted to last forever while at the same time I knew I needed more, more touch, more skin, more everything.