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“Okay?” Rye murmured.

Charlie nodded.

No one had ever touched him there. He’d never really touched himself there. It was so sensitive he shivered.

Rye caressed the insides of his thighs, and Charlie squeezed his eyes shut to escape into the sensation.

“You’re so gorgeous, Charlie,” Rye murmured.

Charlie was so hard his erection threatened the bounds of his underwear, and he was leaking into the thin fabric. Every stroke of Rye’s fingers on his inner thighs crept closer to his aching flesh and each time Rye didn’t touch him there his arousal ratcheted higher.

“Charlie, can I touch your cock?” Rye purred.

“Please,” Charlie heard himself say brokenly.

Rye cupped Charlie between his legs and Charlie jolted, hips snapping forward, seeking contact. Rye moaned and fondled him through his underwear. Charlie threw an arm over his eyes because all he could bear to concentrate on was the way Rye was making him feel.

Rye stroked his cock through his underwear and squeezed his balls gently. Then he traced a finger along the line of Charlie’s underwear in the crook of his thigh.

“You can, um...” Charlie tried.

“Want them off?” Rye asked, and Charlie nodded, arm still covering his eyes.

He expected to feel Rye’s hand on his crotch, but instead he felt it on his cheek.

“Hey, look at me for a sec.”

Charlie moved his arm. Rye’s cheeks were flushed the way they had been in the woodshop, his eyes shining.

“Feeling okay?”

Charlie nodded. Rye studied his face for a moment, then leaned in and kissed him deeply. Then he moved his mouth to Charlie’s ear and murmured, “I want to stroke your cock until you can’t stand it anymore, and then I want to watch you lose it all over my hand. Then I wanna rub off on your hot-as-fuck thigh because these things are like tree trunks and it’s sexy as hell.”

A bolt of lust tore through Charlie and he made a choked sound.

“Do you want that?”

“Yes,” Charlie said instantly.

“You sure?” Rye’s voice was teasing now.

“Yes.”

“What’s the magic word?”

“Um.” Charlie’s brain was lust fogged. “Abracadabra?”

Rye snorted.

“The magic word is please, Charlie. Ask me. Say please.”

White hot lust bubbled through Charlie’s guts.

“Please, Rye. Please touch me.”

“Touch you where?” Rye’s voice was just breath.

“Touch me...touch my...my dick.”

“Mmm,” Rye said, and with a nip to his earlobe, he went back to Charlie’s underwear, stripping them down and tossing them on the floor. Charlie groaned as his erection sprang free and kissed his stomach.

He kept his eyes open just long enough to see Rye’s graceful fingers close around his length, then he let himself fall into darkness.

Rye stroked him soft and quick, hard and slow, and everything in between. Even Charlie had never spent as much time exploring his cock as Rye did. When he started running a finger around the tip, Charlie couldn’t take it anymore. He was panting and sweating and his breath felt shallow.

“Please, Rye,” he begged.

“Please what?” Rye murmured, all attention on Charlie’s body.

“Please l-let me come.”

Rye made a soft sound of satisfaction and went back to stroking Charlie’s inner thighs. Charlie groaned and he didn’t even have to open his eyes to see the wolfish expression that would no doubt be on Rye’s face.

“There’s so much to see if you like,” Rye mused. Charlie truly hadn’t expected this level of patience from him. “What would you think about me on my knees, sucking this gorgeous cock while you pulled my hair?”

The picture flashed through Charlie’s mind like something out of a dream.

“Oh, god.”

“I could spread you out on your bed and finger you until you’re ready for me to fuck you.”

Charlie heard a whimper. It was him.

“I could bend over in your huge shower and you could fuck me under the hot water.”

Charlie groaned.

“Ooh, I could spread my legs and teach you exactly how I like to have my cock sucked. I wouldn’t let you stop until you were an expert. Yeah, I like that idea.”

“Rye,” Charlie begged. “Rye, please.”

“Good use of the magic word. Which? Which of those did you like the sound of?”

“I don’t know,” Charlie slurred.

“Yeah? Mmm.”

Rye trailed a finger over Charlie’s balls and up his aching erection to slide in the liquid there and Charlie gasped. Rye fisted his cock and began to stroke, hard and slow. It was like every touch Rye had scattered along his skin coalesced into a deep, throbbing ache, and now that Rye was touching him like this Charlie felt like he’d die if it stopped.

Rye shifted so he was pressed tighter to Charlie’s side and started a slow grind against Charlie’s hip. The denim felt rough against his bare skin, a flick of discomfort that stoked the fire between his legs.

“So fucking hot,” Rye murmured.

His hand on Charlie was sweet torture and Charlie felt his orgasm building like a tidal wave. He tried to press harder into Rye’s hand, and Rye moaned as Charlie’s hip ground even harder against Rye’s cock.

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