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“What if it doesn’t feel good to you? I don’t want to hurt you.”
Ben drew Simon to him so they could kiss again. Simon was already less clumsy than he’d started out. He was a fast learner, clearly. When Simon pulled back slightly, Ben told him, “If I don’t like something, I’ll tell you. And you’ll never know what you like until you try.”
“Okay,” Simon said with a nervous laugh. “No pressure.”
“No pressure, Simon. I promise. No judgment, either. I’ll be your gay sex training wheels.”
Simon laughed again, but this time it sounded relieved. “You might be my training wheels, but you’re my bike, too. I don’t want to ride anyone else.”
Ben punched Simon lightly in the shoulder. “Stop. You’re awful. Go back to kissing me.”
He let himself float there, in the cloud-like bed, as Simon did just that. He started to explore Ben’s body, as well, and that was the best kind of torture. It was too hesitant and too slow but also erotic as hell. It was like being edged and having no idea when or if it would ever stop. Ben’s cock throbbed, pulsing between his legs with need every time Simon got close to it. He shied away each time, moving to Ben’s hip or leg or stomach, and that was torture, too. Awful and terrible and sweet torture. Eventually Ben couldn’t take it anymore and he moaned in sheer sexual frustration.
“Did I hurt you?” Simon asked. At this point, predictably.
Ben laughed and groaned. “No, but I’m so hard it hurts.”
“Oh.” Simon sounded disconcerted. “Should I—”
“Please touch my cock,” Ben begged. “Or I will because I’m about to go crazy over here.”
“Show me,” Simon said.
“Show you what?” Ben would show Simon anything if it got his dick touched.
“Show me how you touch yourself.”
Ben groaned more. That was so fucking hot and ratcheted up his arousal even more, but at least now he might get off. He licked his hand, wrapped it around his aching cock, and wished he had some kind of lube. A halfway hysterical bubble of laughter escaped him.
“What’s so funny, Benny?” Simon’s eyes were zeroed in on Ben’s hand and how it moved. His voice sounded far away and dreamy.
“I was wishing for lube,” he said, “and it occurred to me there was no way you had any in this house and how that was a huge oversight.”
Simon’s eyes darted back to his. “Um, yeah. No lube. Maybe oil? In the kitchen?”
Ben licked his hand again. “Do you… want to ransack… Roberta’s kitchen… for something to use as lube?”
Simon winced. “No. I can get everything we need tomorrow. But tonight, can I make this better for you? Can I… would you want me to do what you did earlier?”
That took several strokes before Ben figured out what Simon meant. “You wanna blow me?”
Ben saw Simon’s head move in a tight nod. “If that’s okay.”
“That, Simon, is a thousand percent okay. It’s kind of advanced, though. You sure you’re ready?”
“No.” Simon cleared his throat. “But I’d like to try.”
“Jesus Christ. You’re gonna kill me, Simon, but in the best kind of way. Please try. You can stop whenever you want.”
Ben was sure he was going to regret those words, but the last thing he wanted was to do or say anything that ruined Simon’s first experience. Ben closed his eyes. He still held his cock, but he’d stopped pumping it. The wait for Simon’s mouth made him tremble with need. The wait went on for long enough that Ben opened his eyes to tell Simon he didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to when a hot, wet tongue touched the very tip of his cock.
Oh fucking holy Christ on a cracker!Ben clamped his lips tight to keep that all in. He didn’t want to startle Simon. He’d stop licking Ben like he was a lollipop and then Ben would probably expire from thwarted lust. Instead, he made encouraging noises and held his cock still.
Simon got a bit more adventurous. He took the head of Ben’s cock into his mouth entirely. Unable to help himself, Ben’s hips rocked up and he slipped further into Simon’s mouth. Hurriedly he pulled away, but Simon followed him and took Ben even deeper. Unlike his kisses, which were sweet and hot and unpracticed, Simon was a natural at this. He took Ben’s cock deep enough into his mouth that his lips touched Ben’s hand. Simon swatted Ben’s hand away and went a tiny bit deeper. Teetering on the edge of orgasm, Ben held onto the sheet with one hand and to Simon’s hair with the other.
Simon went lower still, to the point where he gagged. He pulled back, and Ben was about to tell him it was okay to stop, even though it was in no way okay to stop, when Simon sucked Ben down again.
“Shit!” Ben cried out. When Simon paused, he babbled out, “No, that was a good shit. A really good shit. Don’t stop. Please. Unless—”
