Jamison giggled faintly into my neck. “Holy shit.”
I exhaled slowly and pulled my cleaner hand out of his briefs to run it soothingly up his back. “‘Holy shit’ is right. Damn.”
“I knew that first time wasn’t a fluke. Not with you as hot and sweet as you are.”
“You make me sound like a latte,” I joked, carefully prying my hand away from our dicks and hiding my wince at the oversensitivity I was feeling post-orgasm.
He snuggled against me, smearing our cooling cum a little more. Was it pleasant? No. Was I going to object? Also no. “I’d drink you,” he told me, his words muffled by my skin where his mouth was pressed against it.
I groaned dramatically. “Give a guy some recovery time.”
Snorting a laugh, he wiggled his hips playfully. “You mean I didn’t earn the instant-hard-on followup option? After that performance? I was robbed!”
“Itwasquite a performance,” I agreed, putting on a grave intonation. “A++, ten out of ten. Would frot again.”
“Five stars, definitely.” With a reluctant whine, he pulled back just enough to let his underwear snap back into place. “Ew, cum is a lot less pleasant when it’s smeared in my briefs.”
That snapped me to attention. What kind of host - lover? - was I? You were supposed to clean up your lover after you came all over them! “I can…” I began, straightening up from where I had been slouched against the back of the couch. “Let me get something to wipe us up.”
“Hmm.” He allowed himself to be manhandled off my lap and set down on the couch next to me. As I stood, he slumped sensually into the cushions and waved a lordly hand at me. “Off you go, then.”
Hiding my eyeroll by turning away, I went into the bathroom and retrieved a washcloth, which I ran under warm water for a few seconds. When I returned to the living room with the damp cloth in hand, I found Jamison petting Curie with his eyes closed. It made a picture that was somehow both hot - cum-covered man in a post-orgasm haze - and adorable - man cooing over a furry cat - at the same time. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that, so I said nothing and focused on leaning down to wipe off his stomach. I thought for a moment about cleaning his groin as well, but decided that might be a little invasive, and instead I handed the cloth to him so he could do it.
He gave his junk a few swipes and then handed the washcloth back to me and watched avidly as I cleaned myself off. I met his eyes with a raised eyebrow and he shrugged helplessly. “What, you’re hot!”
I darted back into the bathroom to dump the washcloth into the hamper and then returned to the living room, settling onto the couch next to him. His hand came over and settled companionably on my thigh and I caught my breath. “I’m hot when covered with smeared cum and sweat?” I queried skeptically.
He nodded vigorously. “Absolutely. Especially when it’smycum.” He wiggled his eyebrows and made a caveman-style clubbing motion with his fist. “Mine.”
“You’re weird, anyone ever tell you that?”
“Allthe time, sweetheart.” He grinned. “It’s part of my charm. So.” The hand on my thigh tightened slightly and then relaxed again and his expression grew more serious. “Sothathappened. Sorry not sorry for attacking you.”
I couldn’t hold in my snort. “Dude, attack me like that any time.Anytime. Damn.”
That got a smile out of him. “I swear I didn’t come over here intending to jump you, though. Just wanted to say that. I genuinely like hanging out with you. The sex was just a bonus.”
That had been a hell of a bonus. I was still shaky from that orgasm, and I felt like my brain wasn’t all accounted for. I knew in the back of my mind that I ought to be freaking out a little more than I was, but it was like the anxiety-focused brain cells just couldn’t activate under the rush of post-orgasm endorphins.
Huh, maybe I needed to jerk off more often. But then, jerking off had never left me feeling this languid.
“Hen?” Jamison promoted, squeezing my leg again. “You ok?”
“Huh?” I managed. “Oh, uh, yeah. Was just thinking.”
He narrowed his eyes at me thoughtfully. “Thinking, or overthinking? I know enough about you to suspect it was the latter.”
I shrugged. “Weirdly, it was a little of both. I was thinking about how odd it was that I wasn’t overthinking. At least yet.”
Without warning, Jamison picked his hand up off my thigh and replaced it with his whole body, clambering onto my lap without a by-your-leave. He rested his forearms against the back of the couch and laid his head on my shoulder. “Don’t overthink. This was fun. It doesn’t need to mean anything more than that.”
My stomach plunged sharply. I knew, logically, that he probably didn’t mean anything negative by it, that he was probably just trying to leave us an out so things didn’t get weird. But that didn’t help the sharp pain of hearing someone I was coming to like, a lot, basically tell me that our sex had meant nothing. I swallowed. “I know,” I managed to say, only slightly hoarsely. “Just some fun.” Wow, that hurt to say.
Jamison stilled against me, tensing, and then relaxed. “Sure, like I said. Fun.” Was there a hint of weakness in his voice, or was that just my wishful thinking? Before I could decide, he sat up straight and pulled his head off my shoulder so he could meet my eyes. “I should probably, uh…”
I didn’t manage to get any words out before he was scrambling off my lap and standing up beside the couch to reach for his jeans. Curie, as startled as me by the sudden flurry of movement, puffed her tail out and hissed.
Same, sister. Same.
