He silently acknowledges me, allowing me to wash him, one foot in the shower, one foot in the hall. I’m thorough, especially with his pits and groin, loving the smell of his sweat and soap infusing the steam wafting into the tiny hallway. My eyes never leave his as my cock bobs and drips.
“Turn,” I demand, my voice wavering as he presents his back and ass.
Covering every inch of skin in bubbles, I pull aside one cheek, cleaning him until he moans, pushing back as my fingers find his hole.
I edge him, stroking his soaped-up cock while stretching him with one, then two fingers.
His breathy“Close,”is everything.
I pull away to curses, then make sure he utters it two more times before I’m done edging him. The aggravation and passion in his eyes make me hate this fucking shower closet. One of these days, we’ll have an enormous shower of our own, and I will have him in every way possible.
Satisfied that I’ve cleaned him good and proper, I pull down the sprayer, rinsing him thoroughly, front and back, spending a little extra time on his hole and foreskin, grinning as he desperately tries to hump the water itself.
Dragging him into the hallway, I switch places with him as I push a clean towel against his chest. I’m quick about soaping up, but meticulous. He’s quick to aid me in washing my cock and balls, a delicious payback for edging him so mercilessly.
It’s a good thing I’m not Dr. Barlowe tonight, or he’d pay for that.
Taking a second to clean up the water in the hallway, we toss the wet towels in the shower and then race to the bedroom. Nacho jumps onto the bed just ahead of me, landing on his side, his cock flopping about as his tattooed body stands out against the pristine white sheets.
I use the steps and crawl over his body to get to his lips, which I take as mine. Suspending my body over his, I deepen the kiss as I sway my hips, letting my cock glance against his.
I hope Nacho’s little gasps against my lips always make my heart race as they do tonight. Drawing back, I need to see his face, his body underneath mine.
“I love you,” he whispers, looking like a dream and a nightmare wrapped in a perfect package, ready and willing to challenge me. Forever, I hope.
“Even if I’m bossy?” I ask, needing reassurance.
“Especiallywhen you’re bossy.”
“Then grab the lube and dock me,” I beg him, breathless.
Licking his lips, he’s lewd in the way he ogles my cock, planning, enjoying my desperation. He reaches beneath his pillow and pulls out a bottle, wiggling it at me before pouring the slick liquid into his palm. Rubbing it onto both hands, he strokes us, one cock per hand, before touching the tips together.
I lift my hips for a better angle, and he is mercifully quick about slipping his foreskin over my leaking cockhead, pushing our slits together as his silken skin glides against mine in an iron grip.
Slick and tight, I nearly falter in my hold as he strokes his skin back and forth. Even as my arms ache from holding myself up, I grit my teeth and endure it, needing this intimacy more than comfort.
I let him go on for a while, like a game to see which of us has the harder time holding back. When I refocus on his face, it’s his grin that catches my eye, like he knows what I’m doing and is determined to win.
Something about this moment, with my arms starting to shake and his eyes rolling back in his head…I don’t just love Nacho. I adore and worship him. I need him more than my next breath.
“Close,” I say, admitting both defeat and victory.
“Good boy,” Nacho purrs with a wink, slowing down the strokes, nearly tipping me over before stopping, entirely too pleased with himself.
I release my arms, sinking onto him, whispering feverishly in his ear, “You are mine, you are mine, you are mine. I love you with every cell in my body. I love you.”
His arms surround me in a fierce hug, pulling me even tighter against his body. Our words only say so much, so we hold this position for several deep breaths, letting our bodies tell each other the rest of the story.
Kissing his forehead, I grab the lube, stroking myself as he widens his legs, scooping his hips. With the flats of my fingertips I push between his cheeks, smoothing the lube across his sensitive skin.
I enter him with two fingers, pleased he’s still slightly stretched from the shower. Notching my cock against him, I slip forward, drinking in his moans, turned on by the tattoos following the curve of his arched neck.
Fully seated, I watch and wait, loving how his body relaxes everywhere for me. Knowing we’re not in any hurry, I take him slow and steady.
“Nacho, look at me,” I ask, wanting—craving—to know I’m as much his as he is mine.
His eyelids flutter, then open to my future. That’s what I see deep in his chocolate eyes. Us, together.
