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He just whined, so full of pleasure he couldn’t form words.
“Cum, Oliver. I want to feel you cum with my cock in your ass.”
He pulsed beneath my fingers, his cry filling the room as he shot out his release against the couch. His silky insides tightened around me, pushing me over the edge. I poured my load into him, letting him milk me dry.
After I caught my breath I pulled out of him, collapsing against the couch and bringing him down into my lap. His face was red and streaked with tears, and his eyes were hazy. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling down at him, content.
He shook his head. “You get mean during sex.”
My smile wavered. “Do you dislike it?”
He waited a few moments before answering. “No,” he said finally. “Maybe I even kind of like it.”
Once we had caught our breath, Oliver untangled himself from me and went to shower. But, first, he was sure to order me to clean the couch. I deserved that.
When I was done I went to have a shower of my own, though I was reluctant to wash off the traces of him. I wanted to touch him again, to feel him against me. I stood under the water long after I was clean, my stomach in knots.
Why did it have to be so painful? No matter what I did, it wouldn’t change the fact that Oliver would never see me romantically. No matter how much pleasure I gave him, I was still a man. The haze of sex washed down the drain, along with our connection.
I couldn’t continue this. Marina was right. I would just end up hurt.
I spent a long time in the bathroom and managed to put myself in a foul mood. The post-sex euphoria had disappeared, and I had to force myself to stay realistic. And I did, at least until I found Oliver waiting on my bed.
He was laying across the mattress, holding his phone above his head as he typed.
“Oliver,” I didn’t know what to say. “Is everything alright?”
“You came inside me.”
I winced. “Yeah, I did. Sorry, I got sort of…caught up.”
He kept his attention on his phone as he responded. “It took a long time to clean it out, and I’m not sure I got all of it. So, I’m sleeping in here tonight to make sure my bed doesn’t get dirty.”
I blinked, my brain struggling to keep up. “Should I…go sleep on the couch?”
At that he glanced at me, raising an eyebrow. “Why would you do that? Just sleep here.”
A lump formed in my throat, and I was afraid my voice would break if I tried to speak, so I kept silent as I got in the bed. Oliver shimmied around until he was under the covers, close enough to me that I could hear his breath.
The urge to reach out and touch him tingled in my fingers, but I balled my hands into fists at my side to keep them still. I cleared my throat. “How does your body feel?”
“My hips hurt like hell,” he said without pause. “But I’m not complaining.”
“Oh.”
Since when had I been such a fucking coward? Was I 12? No, even a 12-year-old could tell their crush they liked them. I was scared. I was scared that he would be disgusted by me, and fire me - or at least that our relationship would go back to how it was before. I couldn’t bear to spend the rest of my life watching his reflection.
But when I opened my mouth again, all that came out was, “Goodnight, Oliver.”
“Goodnight, Ben.”
Chapter Ten
“Hey, I need to talk to you.”
“What’s up?”
Marina glanced over at Richard. “I want to stretch my legs. Walk with me.”
