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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.
Keeping his grip firm, he slides his hand to the base and gives me a little squeeze. Relaxing his hold on the upstroke, he pumps me several times before once again tightening his fist. Alternating between the two with no discernable pattern, he continues to stroke me, never letting me fully sink into the rhythm before changing it up again.
The constant adjustments are maddening, but only because I’m anxious to find the release I’m still not sure he can give. Truthfully though, if he’s able to achieve it after all this teasing, I’m fairly certain it will be the best I’ve ever had.
Sliding his hand low enough to cup my balls and press them into the base of my cock, my hips surge forward as my head lolls back against the couch and agarbled moan escapes my throat.
Tripp lets go of my dick and palms my sac, giving it a nice, firm tug. “No wonder these are so sensitive. They’re ready to burst, aren’t they?”
I swivel my hips as he kneads them, too consumed with lust to care that the motion makes it look like I’m fucking the air, which Tripp seems to enjoy.
“Jesus, big guy. What I wouldn’t give to be sitting on that beauty right now. I knew it’d be big, but big and you know how to use it... Damn.” He gives my nuts a final squeeze and spins toward the coffee table, sliding open a drawer I hadn’t noticed before.
“What’s that?” I heave as he grabs something inside.
“Lube. I don’t want to chafe you and risk not getting to have any more fun.”
“What sort of fun?” I ask before I can stop myself.
Tripp’s grin turns devious as he squirts the liquid into his palm and wraps it around my shaft, causing me to gasp and buck simultaneously. “Damn that’s cold.”
“I’ll warm it up, don’t worry.” He starts stroking me, twisting his wrist as he reaches the top. As promised, the friction makes the gel warmer as he gets my cock nice and slippery.
I wonder briefly if this is what it feels like to be with a woman bare. I never tried it, but the thought nearly takes me out of the moment, and in a desperate attempt to salvage it I repeat, “What sort of fun?”
“Hand jobs, blow jobs, fucking.” His eyes snap to mine, hooded and heated and full of challenge. I swear the carnal nature of his gaze has my toes curling. “You like that idea?”
“I’m not sure how to answer that while you’re holding my dick.”
Tripp throws his head back with a whoop that turns into a bout of laughter. “I don’t think anyone’s ever made me laugh while I've had a raging boner.”
“You’re hard?” With him kneeling before me, only his eyes gave any indication he was enjoying this.
