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With a few tender swirls of his tongue, Greg drew himself off Holden’s cock and sat back. Holden reached down, grabbed Greg’s arms, and pulled him upward seeking his mouth. Greg moved, unfolding his legs from the floor, rising and straddling Holden once more, his lips landing on Holden’s. They opened to each other immediately. Greg tasted of salt now, the bitter remains of Holden’s cum, and he smelled of musk and woodsmoke combined with a trace of syrup.
They kissed slowly, lingering, hands in each other’s hair until Holden’s body stopped tingling and his heart rate returned to normal. He pulled back slightly, forehead resting against Greg’s.
“Wow,” he said, all he was capable of saying because he was still slightly out of breath.
Greg pulled on his arm, got him to stand, and led Holden to the bed. He kicked the sweats off the rest of the way and sank down on the mattress, tugging on Greg’s arm to get him to lie down as well. It didn’t take much persuading. Holden rolled over to give him space then turned to face Greg as he settled his head on the pillow. They came together easily, naturally, moving back into a languid kiss, Greg’s hands moving over Holden’s naked body, Holden’s slipping under Greg’s shirt until he asked if he could remove it.
With a nod, Greg sat up, pulled his shirt over his head, and let it drop to the floor. Then he was back in Holden’s arms, and they were kissing again. Holden loved the way Greg kissed. Every time they came together was better than the last, but it was the way Greg put his entire focus, his whole being even, into each kiss, the way in which nothing else seemed to matter except the feel of Holden’s lips against his, their tongues tangling and stroking, hands touching and caressing, that was intoxicating.
If he didn’t know better, if he and Greg hadn’t talked as much as they had already, Holden would have a difficult time understanding that Greg wasn’t aroused, that the goal of this epic make-out session was the kissing itself, and it wasn’t the prelude to something more. He’d never been with someone before who wasn’t racing toward orgasm as if it was the only purpose for two people getting naked with each other or touching.
God, Holden felt as if he needed a whole new vocabulary because the words he had, the way he thought about desire and arousal and sex, were completely inadequate for describing what it was like to be with Greg.
“I feel like I’m fifteen again, fumbling around in the back seat of my dad’s car,” Holden murmured as they came up for air. “I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“We’ll figure it out. I’ll tell you when I don’t want something or when I do, just like you’ll tell me, and we’ll learn what this looks like for us. Together.” Greg’s eyes got that look Holden already knew meant he was thinking about his past relationships.
Holden kissed him, a light touch of their lips to bring Greg out of his thoughts. “There you are,” he said as Greg focused back on him. “I want that. What you said about learning about each other.”
“I’ve never wanted that more than I do with you.” Greg shook his head. “I don’t know why everything is so easy with you.”
“I don’t either. But you know what?” Holden grinned just before he kissed the end of Greg’s nose. “I don’t care. These past couple of days have been the most amazing gift.” He tugged Greg closer. “Now, can I get you out of those sweats?”
Eventually,theygotoutof bed and into the shower. Holden made sure Greg kept his injured hand out of the spray of the water by thoroughly washing the man himself. He adored the feel of Greg’s lean body under his slick hands and felt the moment Greg surrendered himself to Holden’s ministrations. Although he’d have loved to have taken Greg’s cock in hand and feel the weight of it as he stroked Greg off, he settled on admiring the length and thickness of it. Even flaccid, it was impressive. Greg was definitely a shower, and Holden imagined that had also created problems for him with past boyfriends. Even though he wasn’t a size queen, his mouth watered at the thought of sucking on it or, better, having it fill his ass.
“Youcantouch me,” Greg said, almost as if he’d heard Holden’s thoughts.
“I didn’t want to presume.”
“I know. That’s why I’m telling you.” Greg rocked his hips forward. “I like touching, and I like being touched.Everywhere.”
“Well, okay, then.”
Holden slid a hand down Greg’s treasure trail, following the line of hair from his chest to his navel and then lower to his trimmed pubes.
“You are a beautiful man,” Holden said as he slid his fingers around Greg’s cock.
The softness of it combined with its weight intrigued him, especially when Greg rocked forward to push himself into Holden’s fist and a sigh left his mouth. For someone like Holden, whose sexual activity was confined to hookups and bathroom quickies, encountering another guy’s flaccid dick in this context was a novelty. Most of the guys he’d been with had been ready to go with hardened cocks and a desperate need to get off as soon as they got somewhere private. Even before he got that far, figuring out how much a guy was into him was often based on feeling an erection pressed against his leg or ass. Like kissing Greg, this was an entirely new experience.
Holden played with him, sliding his hand up and down Greg’s shaft, circling his glans with his fingers, cupping Greg’s balls with his other hand and enjoying the slide of them inside Greg’s sac. Again, it was novel. He was used to everything being hard, rigid, tight, not the soft slide of skin, of movement under his fingers. It struck him as odd that he’d never explored a dick when it wasn’t hard. Touching himself was either for utilitarian purposes or to get off, and if it was the latter, he was already hard by the time he got his hands on his cock.
It was also a wonder that he could tell he was giving Greg pleasure. The gentle sighs, the slight rocking of his hips and shift of his feet, the way his uninjured hand stroked Holden’s back and his fingers played with the top of his crack told Holden that Greg was enjoying the way this felt. But it was pleasure and intimacy without arousal. Greg’s body remained relaxed, and his cock remained soft. And once again, it was pleasure without the driving build toward orgasm.
Holden knelt to wash Greg’s legs. The water cascading down Greg’s body washed the soap bubbles onto the shower floor and into the drain as Holden ran his soapy hands along the muscles of Greg’s thighs, mapping the lines, feeling them flex and tighten as Greg shifted his weight. Greg’s cock touched Holden’s chin, his lips, brushed his cheek as he caressed his way up the backside of Greg’s legs. He paused with his hands cupping the firm mounds of Greg’s ass and looked up as he leaned in and nuzzled against Greg’s cock.
“Can I?” he asked.
In response, Greg reached down and took hold of himself, ran the velvety soft tip along Holden’s lips. He opened his mouth eagerly and took Greg’s length inside. It was strange to feel the softness, stranger still that there was no thickening, no movement from his cock coming to life. Again, Holden was struck with the inadequacy of his language because it wasn’t “strange”; it was merely something he’d never encountered before and was learning to appreciate. Everything he’d experienced with Greg, either in bed or out, only made him want more: more time to get to know each other, more of Greg’s intoxicating kisses, more of getting to be himself.
Holden kept his eyes on Greg as he swirled his tongue around the man’s cock, teasing and exploring as he sucked Greg to the back of his throat, then let his lips slide until just the tip remained in his mouth. He was learning Greg’s responses, the sighs when something felt good, the rock of his hips when he wanted more of whatever Holden was doing.
A bead of precum hit Holden’s tongue, and he groaned at the bitter, salty taste of it, teasing the tip of his tongue into Greg’s slit in pursuit of more. Above him, Greg closed his eyes and tipped his head back.
“That feels good,” he said, rocking his hips forward.
Holden held the base of Greg’s cock in his fist and hollowed his cheeks as he sucked harder on the tip. His tongue swirled around its smooth skin, reveling in the texture, and then he grazed his teeth along the ridge. When Greg sucked in a breath, Holden paused.
“More,” Greg whispered.
