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Tripp’s fist slides leisurely along his length, over and over again, the occasional thrust the only indication he wants it harder. Faster. I’ll let him have that, later. Right now, I appreciate how the slow pace allows me to see his entire, engorged cock, and how that’s making my body hum with an awareness that’s both familiar and foreign.
As his hand strokes toward the tip, I notice it’s purple, and glistening slightly in the dim light of the room. “You’re dripping.”
“So, you are watching?” He opens his eyes, bringing his gaze to mine, and the primal lust I see there has me licking my suddenly dry lips. “You got so quiet I was starting to wonder.”
“You didn’t give me much choice.”
“You could’ve left me hard. It wouldn’t have been the first time.” His breath catches as his fist reaches the swollen head. “And as for the choice you made, are you happy with it? Do you enjoy driving up my need by making me go slow, or do you just want to savor the moment? Look your fill?” He drags his hand back to the base, palming his sac and giving me an unobstructed view of his steel length.
I do like looking my fill, I think, but since I can’t make sense of that right now I bark out another command before he can jumble my mind any further. “Swipe your thumb over your slit. Spread your precum around the crown.”
“Mmm, it’s slippery.” His eyes flick to mine, watching me from under thick lashes. “Makes my cock tingle everywhere I touch it.” He sighs as he circles his finger around his tip, rocking his hips forward to increase the pressure, and a sharp zing ricochets through my length. Holy shit. I think… I think I’m getting hard.
“Cup your balls,” I rasp. “Roll them around your palm.”
His head falls back as he massages his sac, which makes his dick bob from the motion of his hand. “Fuck, that’s good.” Tripp spreads his legs, giving himself more room to work, plumping his balls in his hand as he rocks his hips, rigid cock spearing the air.
My own presses against the fabric of my shorts, the zing having faded to a pleasant warmth that leaves a faint hum simmering between my legs. I can’t help shifting in my seat to see what it feels like to have the material brush against my skin, which doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Those shorts getting a little tight?” Tripp bites back a moan as he tugs on his sac, his bold gaze tracking over me like a predator savoring its prey. Blatant. Unabashed. Hungry. I can’t remember the last time anyone desired me so openly before, if ever, and the way it makes my cock stir is both exciting and embarrassing.
I don’t recognize my body right now. The sensations I’m feeling, the thoughts running through my head. They’re echoes of a distant memory, things I’m vaguely aware of having experienced before, though not recently enough to know what comes next, and certainly not in this context. I have a sudden urge to bring this to fruition, to end it before I lose the tenuous grasp on my control, if only to maintain my dignity in front of Tripp.
“Grab your cock,” I bark. “Jerk it hard and fast.”
“Fucking finally,” he exhales, wrapping a tight fist around himself and pumping firmly, slamming his pelvis against his hand with each stroke. “Jesus those thirsty blue eyes of yours are killing me. I’ve never been this hard from my own hand before.”
Tripp’s abs contract under the power of his thrusts, the tendons in his forearm flexing as he vigorously works his shaft, which is now a dusty pink under the pressure of his grip. “Holy… Keep your eyes on me. Don’t look away until I’ve spilled every last drop.”
The warning isn’t necessary. Even if I could divert my eyes, I don’t think I would. The image of Tripp on the cusp of euphoria is too captivating to ignore. Chest heaving, lips glistening, eyes fluttering—his pleasure is hypnotic, a siren song I’m helpless to look away from. I only hope I can witness it without falling apart.
“Oh God. Oh fuck.” Tripp doesn’t even try to contain his release, letting milky white ropes of cum bubble from his slit, coating the fingers that grip his cock like a vise. A sharp cry pierces the air around us as he snaps his hips back and forth, spreading his cum over his length until it stops seeping from his crown. Only then does he slow his thrusts to a gentle roll, stroking through the last of the tremors as he brings his gaze to mine.
Chapter 6 - Tripp
It takes a minute—or three—for my vision to return to normal, and when it does, there’s no denying Noah’s got a tidy little bulge between his legs. I doubt he’s fully hard, but he’s not unaffected, and that’s all the incentive I need to keep pushing.
“Looks like you enjoyed the show.” I wipe my hand over my stomach, loving the way his eyes track the movement.
“I…” He licks his lips. “I guess.”
“You guess? I’d say the answer is between your legs.”
He glances down for a nanosecond and shakes his head. “That’s… It’s not really…”
“Don’t hold back.” I’m playing dirty, using his perception of me against him, but I have a feeling this whole experiment will be for nothing if I let him take the easy way out. “Are you hard?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?” I rest my hands on my hips.
“No. Sort of.”
“Which is it?”
“I don’t know,” he shouts, eyes growing wide as if his own volume takes him by surprise, and I get the sense I need to tread carefully because he maybe doesn’t know. Or doesn’t know what it means.
Rather than ask if he was affected by watching me, I operate under the assumption he was. “Noah, are you ashamed to get hard for another man?”
