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Curses ring through my headset, snapping my focus back to the game. “Dammit, I just killed my teammate.”
“That sucks.” Noah massages away the sting with more soft strokes, then grips me hard and gives my junk a strong tug, sending carnal little sparks of desire ping-ponging from root to tip.
“You don’t even understand how shitty that is, do you?” My ass clenches as he circles his thumb over the crown.
“Nope.”
“Team killing people is a big deal. You can get kicked out of the group,” I rant even as I rock my pelvis forward to spear my dick through his fist. “It’s like stepping out of the goal and letting the other team take a free shot.”
“Sounds like maybe you should keep your dick in your pants while you’re playing then.” He releases me from his grip—I totally don’t groan in frustration when he does, it’s because I nearly killed my own guy again thank you very much—and cups my sac.
“I’m not the one who took it out.” I grind down on his lap to take back some control, which is short-lived since it makes his fingers graze my hole, and I shoot Ted. He’s never going to forgive me for that.
“What the fuck, T. Get your head in the game.”
I turn the mic on long enough to choke out, “My bad,” and shut it off before I moan.
“Sounds like you’re having trouble concentrating.” Noah slides his big hand up my length, closing it in his fist as he starts to pump. Leisurely at first, feather-light strokes that seem to be more about him learning my body than getting me aroused. Then tighter, faster, as if he wants to see how rough I can take it–what will make me moan the loudest.
Soft and gentle, hard and furious, he alternates between the two with zero warning. Noah’s either a natural at hand jobs or so clueless he doesn’t realize he’s edging me. Either way, it’s damn near impossible to keep my eyes on the game instead of the giant paw holding my swollen cock.
This is not what I had in mind when I suggested foreplay. I thought I’d rub my ass over his covered junk for a minute–or thirty–to get him in the mood. A little friction, a little pressure, nothing that would get him so riled he’d turn desperate. And I definitely didn’t expect him to be so needy he’d pull me out to play. I’m not complaining.
Admittedly, trying to keep my head clear enough to play video games while getting jacked off is kinda hot, but I thought I’d be the one teasing him. Instead, I currently resemble a puddle of goo on his lap… whimpering each time he changes his rhythm and robs me of the explosive release building in my balls.
“Am I distracting you?” he growls from behind me as he swirls my precum around my crown.
“Like you could keep your eye on the puck with my hand on your dick,” I scoff as I—finally—kill a bad guy.
“I can try. Got any hockey video games?”
“Who are you, and what have you done with confused, timid Noah?” I lean back against his chest, partly to see if my eyes will focus better on the game with a little more distance, but mostly to give him more room to maneuver. He’s worked my cock into a steel pipe, and even though I’m sitting down, I'm struggling to hold myself upright.
“I don’t feel confused anymore.”
“So, what are you? Gay, bi, pan?” I use his body for leverage as I thrust into his fist.
Noah’s chest shakes with a soft chuckle. “I’m still confused about that. I mean I'm not confused about being into you.”
Despite the fear that comment ignites, it takes all the strength I possess to stop rutting into his hand. “What about me?”
“You know…what I want.” He pumps me again, twisting his wrist at the top. “And I want to fuck you. Or get fucked by you. I want to find out what I like, and I trust you to help me with that.”
The warning bell pings inside my head. There were a lot of you’s—aka me’s—in that comment, and being comfortable with me probably isn’t too far a leap from developing feelings. The logical part of my brain, which doesn’t come out often but is still there, knows this. However, Noah’s playing with my cock like it’s his new favorite toy, and I really, really like that.
“T, look out.”
My eyes find the screen just in time to see my avatar drop to the ground. Game over. Fucking finally.
I leap off Noah’s lap, kicking off my shorts and ripping my shirt over my head as I spin to face him. I'm so frantic to get naked it's a miracle I don’t trip over my own feet. Grabbing my junk, I start pumping. Noah’s hungry, blue eyes grow wide, but other than that he doesn’t move a muscle.
“Foreplays over, big guy. You’ve got about thirty seconds to get your cock inside me.”
Rather than rush to get undressed with me, he stays utterly still and opens his mouth, causing me knees to damn near buckle.
“Is that supposed to be an invitation?” I ask, sounding breathless.
“Isn’t that obvious?” He cocks his head to the side in that adorably innocent way of his. Adorably innocent? Jesus the need to come must be scrambling my brain.
