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“You will. But first you need to relax. Stop thinking about what’s happening or what’s going to happen and just feel.”
The words are meant for him, but I find myself following the same instructions. Whether that’s an effort to set a good example, or an attempt to stick to this slow pace, I have no idea. I just know that for the first time in, maybe ever, I’m noticing how soft skin feels on the inner thigh. How hair tickles the pads of my fingers when I barely graze it. How muscles tense when you first touch them and unwind the longer that connection remains.
And while I still haven’t seen or touched his cock, mine is enthralled.
Chapter 9 - Noah
Trusting that Tripp knows what he’s doing, I close my eyes and let my head fall to the cushions, focusing on the feel of his hand on my leg rather than what other parts of my body may or may not be doing.
It’s warm…heavy, except at his fingertips, which are ghosting over my skin. Down to my knee, up to mid-thigh, occasionally dipping to the inside, Tripp’s touch is calming. Except when it inches higher and sparks a tiny little flutter of awareness deep inside my groin. It's a rumble of need that coaxes my dormant sense of desire out of hiding.
And wow—he’s only touching my leg, but by concentrating on that point of contact my entire body seems to come alive. A pleasant warmth radiates out from his palm, seeping into my limbs, my extremities, even my chest, which rises in rhythm with the glide of his hand rather than my attempts to force breath. And then his hand slips higher.
The general sense of warmth becomes more acute, settling deep in my stomach. All while subtle, yet persistent, waves stretch toward my balls. A satisfied moan wafts over my ears, though whether it came from me or Tripp I can’t say. I don’t even really care, since I’m guessing that noise is responsible for Tripp’s hand inching higher until his fingers are mere inches away from my nuts.
My answering inhale isn’t sharp, but it is deep, filling my lungs with the air needed to steady myself amid the torrent of sensations flooding my nerves from that one, simple advance. That’s when I realize Tripp’s hand is high enough to reach my dick, if it were still resting against my thigh. Only it isn’t.
It’s pushing against the fabric of my shorts.
“There you are.” Tripp’s voice is thick and sweet, like honey, drizzling over my heated skin. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”
My eyes snap open just in time to see the heated gleam in Tripp’s as he stares at the slight tent in my shorts. He leans forward without warning, mouthing my cock over my shorts. His warm breath makes me jump against the material between us.
Oh, God.
Sparks zing from the base of my shaft all the way to the tip as a steady hum surges to a crescendo. The sheer intensity would have me sinking to my knees if I wasn’t already seated on the couch.
My jaw falls open on a silent moan as my cock swells, the tiny pulses of my heartbeat feeling more like beats on a snare drum in my rapidly growing dick.
“So excited,” he mumbles between open-mouthed kisses, the heat of his mouth making my shorts damp as my dick twitches again. “You’re good for my ego.”
My breathing turns erratic as I watch Tripp nuzzle and murmur to my shaft through my shorts. Watching a guy talk to your junk should be unsettling, but once again Tripp manages to make the obnoxious seem normal.
I’m so focused on the way he’s making me feel, it’s not until Tripp’s fingers slide under the waistband of my shorts that I realize his hand is no longer rubbing my leg. I inhale another lungful of air as he lifts his gaze to mine, hooded emerald eyes silently asking for permission. My head bobs once, and cool air hits my heated skin as my shorts are pulled lower.
Tripp taps my hip, and I obediently shift my weight so he can pull the fabric off completely. Tossing the garment to the floor behind him, he spreads my legs and drags his eyes up my calves, over my thighs, settling on my shaft.
Holding my breath, I let my gaze follow his, coming to rest on my cock. My body shudders as my lungs expel their relieved air.
It’s firm. Not as full as I’ve seen it, but fuller than it’s been in a long time.
“Hello beautiful.” Tripp licks his lips, and my dick jumps in response.
Looking at me from under thick lashes, Tripp seems to fight for control of his breathing. “I want to do all the things. Hold it, suck it, ride it.” He stretches his arm forward, finger straining toward my tip, then suddenly pulls back. “What do you want, Noah? What am I allowed to do?”
“Honestly, I wasn’t sure my body would let us get to this point, so I hadn’t considered what I’d be comfortable with.”
“Touching then? I’d love to wrap my hands around you.” His eyes seem to go a little unfocused before they blink back into control, which seems very un-Tripp-like. He must be trying to make me feel good about not being all the way hard. That’s…pretty cool, actually.
“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “Touching.”
Tripp reaches for the base of my cock, eyes fluttering shut with a groan as he closes it in his fist. Then he slides his hand to the crown, gently pinching it between his thumb and forefinger.
Holy shit.
He’s holding my dick. Not pumping it or playing with it the way I did his, just holding it, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the tip like I’m some skittish animal he’s trying to calm. I guess in a way I am, though not because he’s a guy like he implied the other night. Because it’s been so long since anyone’s touched me.
The last person, a woman, had small, soft hands. And her touch was gentle. Tripp has big, strong hands. They’re holding me firmly, covering most of my dick, which is now harder than it's been in ages. Maybe ever. Just from him holding it.
