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HENLEY
I feel drunk.Or high. Or both.
My body is weightless—too heavy to move but light enough to float.
Hellooooo, orgasm.It was definitelymypleasure to meet you.
Brooks leans down to kiss me, the remnants of what we shared still clinging to his lips. He tastes like sin and sex and everything I never knew I was missing.
He breaks our kiss, his eyes meeting mine, questions in his eyes.
“Yes,” I tell him. “I want this.”
He nods.
He stands to move around his bed, searching through his side table to retrieve a black box. Moving up the bed, I watch as he fiddles with it, opening the seal.
Retrieving a single condom, he drops the box to the side table, then climbs onto the bed with a coy smile.
“Just so you know,” I tell him, sitting up. “I couldn’t imagine sharing this with anyone else. I’m glad it’s you, Brooks.”
“I’m glad it’s me, too.”
I push at his chest, and he laughs.
“I’m glad it’s you, too, Henley,” he says seriously.
“Can I touch you?” I ask tentatively. “Teach me what feels good.”
He blinks long and hard, a soft groan falling from his lips.
He kneels above me, looking far more formidable than a boy ever should. At seventeen, he’s tall and broad with a film of svelte muscle built under the soft tan of his skin. His blue eyes shine with a mischief and maturity that should be intimidating. Instead, it’s magnetic in a way that makes me want to do as he says and run away. Just him and me forever lost in the world, exploring.
He’s hard in his boxers, the thick outline of his cock visible through the dark material. My mouth waters at the thought of seeing him—free and bare and hard forme. I never imagined I’d be so eager to see a naked penis. The truth be told, at seventeen, the thought should be daunting. But this is Brooks, and I’ve never trusted another human being like I do him.
“Take it out, Henley. You want to touch it,touchit.”
As strong as his words sound, there’s a desperation to them. A plea for me not to deny him.
My fingers reach into his waistband timidly, skating along the firm touch of his stomach. Shifting closer, I tug at the cotton, pushing his boxers over his lean hips. Thankful for the freedom, the long, thick line of his cock strains forward, pointing toward me with a wet crown. He leaks with anticipation. Beading with white translucent drops that I lean forward to lick away.
“Fucking God,” he bites out, grabbing on to his base, his knuckles white with the tight hold.
“Like that?” I ask.
“Mm,” he moans, the veins in his neck protruding with his limited restraint.
Circling my lips over his crown, I suck lightly, dragging my tongue over the small slit in his head.
His dick jerks against my tongue. “Fuck. Henley.Fuck.”
Feeling braver at his reaction, I swallow more of him down. I gag slightly as he taps the back of my throat, and he growls out in approval.
“Henley.” He cups my jaw. “Baby, you need to stop. I don’t wanna come like this.”
Sliding himself out of my mouth, he holds up the condom in his hand. “I wanna do it buried inside you.”
I nod, not trusting my voice to be strong enough to speak.
