Page 40 of Dickathlon

“Again so soon?”

I couldn’t help the pink that flushed my cheeks. I just came in front of him, and now I was somehow bashful about cumming again.

“You’re adorable when you’re embarrassed.”

“Well, that’s good, because it’s probably going to happen a lot.”

He turned and I got my first look at his bare ass.

Holy fuck.

“What?” He turned. “You said ‘Holy fuck’. Is something wrong?”

“I was just checking out your ass.”

“Oh.” He smiled. “Good to know.” He gave his right cheek a little slap. “You can touch it if you want.”

Okay, who said I could try to find someone that wasn’t interested in sex right away. They needed to be shot.

Sex was great. Sex was glorious. Sex was everything.

Well, not that I’d even had sex yet, but fuck, a guy had touched my dick and I came all over myself because of it. I probably should be freaking out a little, but I really just wanted to squeeze his ass cheeks and possibly worship the rest of his body with my tongue.

But, first things first. Shower.

It was one of those floor-to-ceiling glass ones. I could see him inside, already soaping up. I opened the door to join him.

Holy shit. His dick was still hard.

“You sure you don’t want me to take care of that?”

“Please ignore it. We’re taking things slow, remember?”

“Ignore it?! It’s like a King Cobra. How am I supposed to ignore that?”

“Look up here,” he answered, pulling my chin up until our eyes met. “Soap?”

I nodded, and then his hands were on me again, washing my body. I couldn’t help it, I closed my eyes.

“Feel good?”

“Yeah.”

“You got plans tonight?”

“I do now.”

Declan laughed. “Is that so?”

I opened my eyes, and looked up into his. “Can I hug you?”

“Of course.”

I wrapped my arms around his waist and tucked my head under his chin. He was probably five inches taller than me. Everything about him was so much bigger than me. I could feel it between us. My now flaccid dick, tiny in comparison to his. Naturally, his arms went over mine, encircling my back. I felt his lips kiss my shoulder.

My scar!

I willed myself not to lose it, telling myself that he wouldn’t have kissed it if he thought it was ugly. Just because I hated the scar didn’t mean he would. Or should.