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And the way he smelled? In the confines of the small room, Gumby’s natural aroma of soap, motor oil, and something unique to him overwhelmed Screw’s senses.
“Ready?” Gumby picked up the clippers and started them up. An incessant buzzing filled the room.
“Do your worst.”
“I’m just gonna do your neck and even up the sides first.” Gumby got to work, trimming the sides of his beard with slow, gentle strokes of the clippers. Every touch of his hands, though not intended to arouse, drove Screw crazy with need.
Screw couldn’t get enough of watching him. The way his lower lip tucked between his teeth as he concentrated. The way Gumby’s glasses slipped down his nose, just a millimeter, but enough to have him shoving them back up with a tiny grunt of irritation. The way his eyes narrowed as he focused on the task.
It was taking everything in Screw to keep from ripping the clippers from Gumby’s hands, dropping to his knees, and sucking him until he collapsed.
Once he was satisfied with the job, Gumby grabbed the scissors and trimmed the longest of the hairs, the stragglers. Then he returned to the clippers and gave the overall beard a good trim. Screw practically purred like a cat being petted by its favorite owner.
Both of them were fully dressed. Hell, they weren’t even skin on skin in any way and Screw’s cock was so hard, it was becoming near impossible to ignore. Especially for someone not used to denying that particular part of his body. Gumby either didn’t notice or had a kink Screw hadn’t known about that involved torturing his lovers with severe blue balls.
“Okay,” Gumby said, oblivious to Screw’s pain. He grabbed Screw’s shoulders and leaned back, eyes darting back and forth from left to right. “Looks pretty damn even. Not too bad if I do say so myself. Take a look.”
Screw turned, assessing himself in the mirror. “Shit, G, this auto mechanic thing doesn’t work out you have a career as a barber. I’m looking fly.” He rubbed his cheeks and chin, turning his head as he admired himself.
“Turn back, let me oil you up.”
Yes please, oil every inch of me while you’re at it.
“Sure.” Screw turned in time to see Gumby drop a few beads of beard oil onto his callused hands. The scent of sandalwood filled the room adding another layer to the sex factor.
Hovering only a few inches above him, Gumby used his long fingers to massage the oil into Screw’s beard. As he stroked in a circular motion with gentle pressure, Screw’s eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the simple pleasure of it all. The moment felt heavy, intimate, perhaps one of the most intimate he’d ever experienced with another man…hell, with anyone.
When Gumby slid his fingers into Screw’s hair, massaging his scalp as he’d stroked his face, Screw lost the battle to remain stoic. He moaned and gripped the other man’s hips, pulling him in until their groins met. When he realized Gumby was as hard as he was, he groaned. “You’re fucking killing me. Need you so bad.”
Gumby’s answering groan might as well have been his hand fisting Screw’s cock with the way it made him jerk. The taller man leaned in close, brushing his smooth cheek against Screw’s neat beard.
“Feels so good,” Gumby whispered. “The hair on your face.” He pried Screw’s fingers from his hips and interlaced them with his, keeping their pelvises joined. “The roughness of your hands.”
Screw bit his lip and rocked his hips forward. His cock needed friction like his brain needed oxygen. Neither was getting enough of what it craved at that moment. He wanted more, but apparently, Gumby wasn’t done torturing him with his words in a way Screw had never experienced.
“The way you’re so hard,” he went on as though Screw wasn’t seconds from combusting. Gumby grabbed Screw’s cock through his clothes, giving a none-too-gentle squeeze. “Not just here, but all over.” Screw nearly came in his pants when his cock got another squeeze at the same time Gumby grasped his bicep. “So fucking hard. And then when Jazz is with us? Balancing it all out with her softness, her sweetness, her wet pussy…fuck, Luke, it’s goddammed heaven.”
“Will,” he managed to say, voice deep and ragged in a way he’d never heard from his own throat. “I can’t take much more.” In seconds, he’d be begging, completely shameless in his need to feel relief. Something he’d never had to do. He’d always dove in, took when he needed, then jetted. No one had ever played with him, made him wait, made him crave.
Gumby gave him a quick, bruising kiss, swiping his tongue against Screw’s for just long enough to be another tease.
As his flavor hit, Screw froze. Was that… “Do you taste like Jazz?”
“Sure do,” he said with a wink and the thought of Gumby eating Jazz out before he came to him was unreal. “I want to suck you,” Gumby whispered by his ear.
