Page 59 of The Tryout

Finally, gravity takes hold, pulling the jeans the rest of the way down. In the dim light of the living room, I can barely see the silver scars on his right knee, even though I know they’re there. My eyes trace their way up, past his thighs, past the dick whose imprint is clearly visible outlined in blue, past where his pecs stretch the fabric of his shirt, back to his face, where a smug grin is sitting.

“You said I could look,” I offer, not feeling a lick of shame.

“Can we…lie down?” he asks, gesturing toward the couch.

I remember when he bought this monstrosity, thinking there was no way we’d ever need all that space. Poulin and I had made do with the loveseat that had been here before, which is now tucked into the corner. But that loveseat could barely hold one hockey player at a time, let alone two together, stretched out side by side. As I nod and Avery reclines, I’m grateful for this couch in a way I never thought I would be.

I push my own pants down, revealing my much more boring black Walmart boxer briefs, thinning between the thighs from wear. Taking initiative, I strip off my hoodie and shirt, too.

Avery doesn’t seem to mind, though. The second my hoodies falls to the floor, he holds out a hand, gently tugging me to lay next to him. This time, it’s his hand that comes to my face, his fingers in my hair as he pulls me closer.

Oh.

Now I understand the moan from earlier, as the gentle tug of his fingers in my too-long hair sends a buzz down my spine. In this position, I’m once again in control, Avery on his back with my body draped halfway over his. I throw one leg between his, instantly rewarded with the hot brush of his dick against my thigh.

His hand moves down, along the ticklish spot at the side of my neck, over my nipple, down my abs, leaving goosebumps in its wake. For a second, I think he’s going to reach for my dick; I even push my hips forward to make it easy for him. Instead, he grabs his own through the cotton of his underwear, so close to mine that I swear I can feel the gentle motion of hand on cotton.

“Touch yourself for me?”

He doesn’t have to ask twice, my hand flying to my dick. I try not to do too much; I’m already leaking and I want this to go on for as long as possible. He seems to be of the same mind, gently teasing himself as he alternates between gentle kisses and watching me.

I feel on fire, the power of his gaze turning this into something I never thought it could be. Unable to resist any longer, I bury my hand in my briefs, the feeling of skin on skin more intense than it’s ever been.

Avery does likewise, his mouth open now and panting into mine. From the peek I get over the waistband of his underwear, his dick is thick and uncut, maybe a little shorter than mine but still a nice handful. I rest my head on his shoulder, lost for a moment in the sounds and smells of the two of us together, closing my eyes to the world and just riding the feeling.

“Can I…can I help?” Avery whispers, so soft I can barely hear him, even though my ear is so close I can feel the air move.

Lost in the feelings, I nod into his collarbone, hoping he understands.

“Lick.”

I open my eyes, unsure of what he means. When I see his hand in front of me, I stick out my tongue, not sure I’m understanding what he means. But sure enough, he swipes his hand across my tongue, fingers teasing my bottom lip as his other hand works to free us both. The air feels cold against my hot dick until–

“Fuck, Avery!”

His hand is wrapped not only around me, but around us both, the saliva joining with our precum to ease the slide. The feeling is overwhelming, not just the hand of another person on my dick, but his own dick right there, sliding against mine. My mouth is open and panting, my hips thrusting into the rough tunnel of his hand. I know I don’t have long now, no matter how much I want to draw this out. I open my eyes, struggling to focus, but finally finding him.

“Ave, I’m gonna…I can’t…”

“It’s okay, Finn. Just let go, alright? I’ve got you.”

His words are the hand that pushes me over the edge, my vision going black for a moment as I have the strongest orgasm of my life. My cum spills over him, on his fist and dick and that fucking beautiful stomach, pooling near the pushed-up hem of his shirt. And through it all, he strokes us, my cum slicking the way. He joins me just a few strokes later, the warm wetness of his cum branding me.

And as I struggle to catch my breath here in a nook that smells of Avery, I can’t help but wonder…

Why didn’t I do this sooner?

I must actually fall asleep for a bit, startling awake an uncertain amount of time later. Avery is still with me, the evidence of our orgasms still puddled on his stomach.

“Shit. Sorry, didn’t mean to pass out on you like that.”

He shrugs, stripping off his shirt and using it to wipe at the nearly-dry puddle.

“No big deal, seemed like you needed that.”

Understatement of the year.

“Yeah, I…that was great. Thanks.”