When Everything Is Blue(53)

I have no reservations with Chris. Unlike Dave, I trust Chris implicitly. Anything he wants, I’ll give it to him. It’s just that simple.

“You feel so good,” Chris growls as he climbs, naked, on top of me again, riding his dick alongside my own. The heat rises like a fever and radiates out of my every pore as I reach down and grab both our cocks in my hand, jacking us off at the same time in a fervor. Chris’s mouth covers mine and then trails off across my cheek like he’s forgotten we’re kissing. He buries his face in my neck, sucking hard, teeth scraping my skin as he rides me like a dog. I love how wild and unrestrained he is, how perfectly Chris. He doesn’t care about how he looks or the sounds he’s making, which makes me not care either so I’m really able to let loose. Our bodies grind against each other, rough and dirty, trying to get each other off as fast as we can. There’s a sticky wetness on my stomach, and I think I must have come, but no, not quite. Still hard and aching and tender to the touch. Chris climbs off to access the damages, then bows down to finish me off. He’s barely latched on before I explode inside his mouth.

Sad to say, neither of us lasted very long.

“Whoa,” he says and spurts a mouthful of jizz onto my stomach. Like I said before, I’m not very tidy.

He wipes his arm across his mouth and stretches out across my chest, panting in my ear like an animal, hot and breathy. I love the weight of him, love that he’s crushing me into the carpet, his limbs spread over me in conquest. P.S. I surrender.

“Shit,” he says after a minute. The haze of carnal lust clears, and he glances around like he can’t believe what just happened. He sits up on his knees, his muscular thighs still straddling my hips, fine blond hair against tanned skin. I rub my hands along his muscular quads, and he stares at me with a wide-eyed look on his face. “What are we going to do now?”

I recognize this face from the morning after in Sebastian. He’s freaked out. I thought it was because he regretted it, but I realize now he’s truly scared shitless. Thinking you might be gay is one thing. Acting on it is another. I’m so used to Chris taking the lead, so effortlessly, that I didn’t realize he might need me to take the lead on this one.

“I need a shower,” I tell him, pointing politely to the pile of jizz pooling on my stomach, some of which is his and some of which is my own, “and you might want to rinse your mouth out.”

“Screw you, man,” he says and punches my shoulder.

I laugh and grip my arm like it hurt, but it’s only for his benefit.

“I think I gave you a hickey,” he says and turns my chin to inspect it closer.

“Yeah, for a minute there I thought you were a vampire.”

“I can’t believe I did that.” He touches my neck as though needing proof. “It’s, like, bruised and shit.”

“It’s cool. I like it a little rough.”

“You do?” Chris says, stupefied, because somewhere in the last five minutes, he misplaced his sense of humor.

“Maybe. I don’t know. I was just kidding.” I snap my hips to remind him of the plan, and he climbs off me in a daze.

Chris is kind of zoned out while I shower, sitting on the toilet seat, watching me wash up. He wiped himself down with a wet washrag, but I got most of the spillage. After the Dr. Giggles incident, his parents replaced the curtain with a glass door. I’m tempted to invite him in, but I don’t think he’s ready for cutesy couple shit like washing each other’s backs. He looks pretty stone-cold terrified right now, coming to grips with the fact that he also has a taste for cock. Even in South Flaaarida where straight guys wear pink, there’s some real homophobic haters out there. For proof, just check out What’s in Wooten’s mouth?

I turn off the water. Chris’s eyes track me as I dry off and wrap the towel around my waist. Chris is still naked as he grabs hold of the towel and gently tugs. My dick is definitely ready for round two and makes it known rather obnoxiously, but I sense from the way Chris kisses me softly on the lips, he’s looking for something gentler and sweeter.

“Come on.” He leads me back to his bedroom, nods at my junk, and says, “Put that away so I can focus.” He tosses my boxer briefs at me and puts on his own. He sits on the edge of his bed looking sort of dejected, like he just got told he didn’t make the team.

“What’s up?” I ask him while I redress.

“I thought I might be bi, but this is, like, straight-up gay.” He looks like he might be on the verge of a panic attack himself.

“How’s the reality match up to the fantasy?”

“It’s hot,” he says, and I smile, but he doesn’t look too pleased about it.

Chris leans forward, cradling his head in his hands, doing his wrinkled forehead stress face. “I have to tell my parents. My dad….”

He’s definitely panicking now. I kneel down at his feet and resist the urge to touch him. Even though we just did things we’ve never done before, I don’t want to assume he wants my affection or force myself on him. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. Or tell anyone. We don’t even have to do this again if it’s too much.”

“I want to, I’m just….” He glances up at me, brown eyes wide. “I’m freaking out, T.”

I reach for one of his hands and squeeze his fingers to bring him back to the here and now. “I get it, Chris. It’s a big deal. It’s okay to freak out.”