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Flipping my hand, I run my knuckles down the crease of his hip and brush my fingers over his balls. His abdomen hitches as his breathing changes; I look up at his face and find him watching me. I’m not sure enough to do this without looking, so I turn my gaze back down to my hand and run my fingertips carefully up his shaft. He breathes heavily out of his nose and I bite back a smile, wrapping my hand fully around him.
I didn’t think to grab any lube, so I make sure my grip is gentle enough not to chafe. The angle is fucking weird, and I feel a twinge in my wrist as I roll my palm up him. Because I’m watching so closely, I can see the exact moment a bead of precum appears on his tip, and I brush a thumb over it.
“Corwin.” He says, and a thrum of pleasure passes through me at the thready sound of his voice. He’s got both of his hands clenched on the pillow beneath his head, like he’s holding himself back from reaching for me. I’m glad; this first time, I want to get my bearings and try to figure out what he likes without the distraction of his hands on me.
Running my hand over the tip again, I press a little into the slit before teasing my thumb around the head of his dick where I know it’s more sensitive; I feel like I’ve won when he moans, long and low. I repeat the same thing, moving slower and pressing a little harder, experimenting.
There is a prominent vein wrapping around his shaft that I long to trace with my tongue. Actually, wrapping my mouth around him and having him fill my throat is so tempting, I nearly slide down the bed and do it.One thing at a time. I tighten my grip just a bit, gliding my hand up and rolling it back down in a rhythmic motion. I’m not moving fast but even so, Nigel’s breathing is uneven, peppered with small groans from the back of his throat.
My wrist hurts, and I can’t tell if it’s because of the angle or because I’m doing this wrong. I peek up at Nigel’s face and find his eyes closed, lips parted as he tries to regulate his breathing. Okay, so probably not doing it wrong. Ignoring the ache in my wrist, I squeeze tighter on the base before loosening my fingers on the up-stroke. Still cognizant of making sure there’s no chafing, I set a steady pace and commit to it, keeping my eyes on him and listening carefully to the sounds he’s making.
I’m so locked in on Nigel, my own erection is distant enough to be unimportant. I can’t imagine caring about anything but making him feel good right now. His abdomen moves rapidly as his breathing picks up, and there is a definite hitch in his voice as he speaks.
“Coming.”
I don’t know if I’m supposed to do anything different, so I don’t. I’m watching closely when he orgasms, ropey strands of cum shooting over his stomach and my hand. His hips thrust forward into my hand, a simulated fucking motion that immediately putsotherideas in my head. I keep my hand in motion, lightening my grip until I’m barely skating my fingers over him. When he softens under my palm I bring my hand to a slow stop, but don’t quite let go of him yet, enjoying the warm, silky feel of his skin.
Now that we’ve stopped, I feel a little uneasy. Unsure of myself, and Nigel, and what’s supposed to happen now. I feel fingers under my jaw, tipping my head back until my eyes find his. Before I can get a read on him, he’s cupping his fingers around my ear and leaning forward to kiss me. It’s not a quick kiss, but a sexy one, and so unexpected that I can’t help but groan into his mouth. I’ve pulled my hand away from him and am holding it above us so that I’m not touching him, cognizant enough to remember that my fingers are sticky with cum.
He pulls back from the kiss, but changes his mind halfway and surges forward again, fingers gripping my face hard. I smile into his mouth, enjoying the attention. I love kissing him. He keeps his forehead pressed against mine when he pulls back again, and we breathe each other’s air for a few moments in silence. His face is too close to mine for me to see him well, but his eyelashes brush mine when he blinks, so I know his eyes are open.
“What are you doing with your hand?” He murmurs. I’m still holding it out, shoulder straining as I keep my arm elevated above us. It looks, I realize, pretty ridiculous.
“I didn’t want to get you all messy.” Also ridiculous, seeing as he made a mess of his own stomach.Smooth, Corwin, very smooth. Nigel chuckles, dips down for another quick peck and then moves far enough back that I can see his full face.
“You can go wash your hand. But come right back, okay?” He says, fingers tenderly brushing at the hair above the crown of my ear. I can’t recognize the look on his face—nobody has ever looked at me like that before.
“Okay.” I slide out of the bed, pajama pants falling down over my calves as I stand up. Nigel rolls over so he’s lying on his back, fully naked and clearly not in any hurry to clean himself up. He watches me as I walk across the room to the bathroom, his eyes a phantom touch on the back of my neck.
I look exactly the same as ever, when I eye myself in the bathroom mirror while washing my hands. Strange, because Ifeeldifferent. I feel like I’ve cleared an insurmountable hurdle, realizing as I did so that it wasn’t so scary after all. I dry my hands off, considering the towels as I do. Should I bring one to Nigel? What I really want to do is go lick him clean, but that might an odd thing to do; damp towel it is.
I fix my hair, straighten my shirt, and grab the washcloth. Nigel’s head is turned toward the bathroom door so he sees me when I step back through and smiles, patting the bed next to him.
“I brought this for you, if you want it.” Awkwardly, I hold up the towel.
“Thanks.” He reaches for it but I don’t hand it to him, clenching my fingers around the fabric.
“I can do it.” I say, quickly. His arm drops back to the bed and his smile widens. Bending a knee onto the mattress, I half sit on the side of the bed and reach over to run the cloth carefully over his stomach. The mess is cleaned up in three swipes, but I add a few more for my own benefit. Also for my benefit, I lean down and kiss him right below his bellybutton, hair tickling my lips.Happy trail, indeed.
“Jesus.” He mumbles. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Oh, I’ve got ideas.”
He snorts out a laugh, patting the bed beside him again. After disposing of the towel into the laundry hamper, I hasten back over and slide in beside him. He’s draped his arm over my pillow and it takes me an embarrassingly long moment to realize why; when I finally lay back, he uses it to pull me toward him until my face is on his chest and his arm is wrapped around my shoulders. His skin is warm beneath my cheek and I can easily wrap my own arm around him in this position. I scootch in closer still, pressing my pelvis against his hip and dropping one leg over his.
Strange, how the intimacy of this feels more profound than when I had his dick in my hand.
“Do you want me to do anything?” He reaches his free hand over and taps my hip, directing my attention to where my own half-hard length is pressed against him. I’ve been so wrapped up in thoughts of Nigel, my arousal didn’t even register.
“Not right now…maybe later? Is that okay?”
“Of course. Whatever you want.”
Relaxing, I time my breathing to his and enjoy the way my face rises and falls with his ribcage. We have morning skate at eleven, but I had checked the time on my phone on my way back from the bathroom and it’s not yet seven. We’ve got time.
“You packed enough clothes for a few days, you said?” I ask.
“Mm. And my tux for tonight so I won’t have to go home ahead of time.”
