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“Whenever,” I tell him. I’ve been holding out on him for way too long; I’m not going to set a new boundary now, even though I love him even more for offering the choice. “Spontaneous kisses are absolutely welcome.”
His eyes light up in a way that practically makes my heart explode, and I’m suddenly not feeling as anxious about my feelings for him anymore. Why wouldn’t I fall in love with this incredible man who brings me peace and comfort and laughter; who makes me pleasure I’ve never dreamed of before; who’s always tried to understand me, and never judged me; and who shows so much joy at the simple thought of being able to kiss me whenever he wants to.
“Perfection’s not boring,” I tell him. “Perfection is you.”
He grins, letting out a wry chuckle. “I think you might have some cum-colored glasses on there, babe. But I appreciate it anyway.”
He leans forward to brush his lips to mine, and I let the wash cloth fall from my hands so I can run them over his body as the kiss deepens. I don’t need to clean anymore anyway.
Deacon’s humble nature might have prompted him to brush my comment off, but I know my words were true. Perfect isn’t the same as flawless. No one is without flaws, and Deacon’s certainly no exception. But there’s a reason I’ve always felt so safe and comfortable with him, and it’s because he just always seems to know what I need and when I need it, whether it’s to talk, or to just chill out, or to have sex. He’s never pushed me beyond where I’m comfortable, while at the same time gently encouraging me to take small steps into new territory.
I know I’m doing exactly what Dr Cho warned me about when we discussed this at my last therapy session: putting way to much pressure on a new relationship by designating it as my ‘happy place’, but I just don’t have any other way of thinking about this. Being with Deacondoesmake me happy. I just hope I’ve been able to give him as much as he’s given me.
Deacon breaks the searing kiss, breathing heavily as he gazes at me with heat swirling in his eyes. “So, I get to do that whenever I feel like it?”
I nod, feeling a little dazed as it suddenly occurs to me there’s water falling on my skin. We must have stumbled under the shower while we were tangled up. “Uh huh.”
His lips curve up at the edges. “You might want to invest in some lip balm. I have a feeling I’m going to be sucking your lips dry for the foreseeable future.”
I let out a soft chuckle, nodding my agreement. “Lip balm. Breath mints. Oxygen mask…”
Deacon shifts slightly and my left hand slips from where it was resting on its torso. As it falls to my side, my fingers brush over something…his hard dick.
“Ah, yeah, sorry,” he says, looking sheepish. “Should have given you a head’s up.”
I shake my head, unable to keep my eyes off his cock. “It’s okay.” And really, I should have known considering my own dick is perking up thanks to that incredible kiss.
I stare at the pulsing erection sticking straight out from between Deacon’s thighs, hesitating over my next move. And then I mentally berate myself for being such an idiot and lower my right hand so I can wrap it around the thick shaft.
And what do you know? The world doesn’t end.
It feels monumental, though, even though that makes no sense at all. This is the dick I’ve had inside my body countless times, and yet for some reason touching it with my hand felt like going too far?
I did touch it earlier tonight when I was lining it up with my entrance, but that didn’t really count. With the condom on it didn’t really feel like I was actually touching a guy’s dick. And considering the amount of times I’ve ridden a dildo over the years, it was far too easy to just recall that as I was going through the motions of getting into position—something I definitely won’t be divulging to Deacon.
But there’s no mistaking it now. I have Deacon’s hard, throbbing cock in my hand. And it feels really nice. Once again I have to berate myself for not doing this sooner. Why did I have to hold back so much?
“Are you just going to hold it?” Deacon asks. His tone is wry, but there’s a tense note in his voice, and when I glance up, I see his features are tight with tension as well.
“Am I doing it wrong?” I ask, suddenly mortified. “Is this hurting you?” I thought I was holding it with the same kind of pressure I’d handle my own dick with, but maybe Deacon’s more sensitive than I am?
“God no. It feels incredible. It’s just…I really need you to move your hand, babe. Otherwise I’m going to shove you into that wall and just start fucking your fist myself.”
My eyes widen. “Oh, right. Okay…” I start moving my hand slowly up and down his shaft, not really sure what I’m supposed to be doing. I really don’t want to hurt him, so I’m keeping my grip relatively gentle.
“Harder, babe,” Deacon groans. “Faster.”
“But—”
“Trust me, you’re not going to tear it off,” he teases. “Just jerk it the same as you do for your own cock.”
I nod and increase the pressure of my grip and the speed of my movements, but Jesus, it’s really fucking hard to do this in reverse. “Fuck. How the hell do you do this backwards?” I grunt in frustration.
“Practice,” he says with a breath of amusement, before closing his eyes and letting out a soft groan. “Don’t worry, babe. You’re doing great. And I’m so fucking close anyway. Just having your hand on me is going to be enough to make me explode any minute.”
Close? Explode? My hand?Panic suddenly gets the better of me and I snatch my hand away, shaking my head over and over. “Sorry…I can’t.”
Deacon’s eyes flicker open, and because it’s Deacon, there’s no sign of disappointment or frustration. Just concern. “What’s wrong, babe? What happened?”
