He moans as I slide my middle finger inside him for the second time today, and after a few tentative thrusts, I add a second finger, holding him in place as he moans and humps against my hand. Stretching my fingers, I lay kisses down his neck and chest and…oh, nipples again. I add a third finger, taking it slow until he’s desperate and relaxed.
“You ready?” I ask, double-checking.
He bites his lower lip, watching me with a dazed, glazed look of supreme satisfaction. I stroke myself once or twice more with lube, then push inside him, rolling my eyes at the tight heat, loving how he wraps himself around me and says he can’t get enough.
I can’t get enough either.
The gauzy, stretchy material encasing his dick strains as he hardens, reaching its limit. His eyes never leave mine, and once again, the beast who feeds on his vulnerability and neediness roars to life inside me.
Levy’s clearly his own man, well educated, kind, the sort of person who makes his community better simply by being in it. His willingness to show me this vulnerable part of himself twists my insides.
I’m the guy who goes into dark, scary places, and until now, that meant I avoided emotional entanglements. Maybe it was necessary when I didn’t know Ant was safe, but I wonder if the rules have changed.
Maybe it’s the lace and garters, but it feels like divine timing, finding him now, right when I can appreciate this level of desire and vulnerability. It’s funny. The people most hurt by their experiences in life strive to help others through it the way he does with the horses. He probably thought that was somehow protecting him from the things he lost, not realizing how much he gives to the people around him.
I know from first-hand experience that helping others doesn’t prevent the sense of loss from overwhelming me, but it’s the only thing that’s allowed me to move forward year after year.
Maybe the reason I see this need for connection in him is because I have the same need. I wonder if Levy sees in me what I see in him.
Pushing deeper inside him, I drink up his moans and sighs, loving the way his head tips back in ecstasy. Quiet, even though his grip on me is loud. The way his body clenches around me, then releases, little by little, letting me invade him farther.
I rain kisses down on his face, letting words tumble from my lips that have never seen the light of day.
“You are so beautiful.”
“I have never felt this way with anyone else.”
“Take me. Take all of me, gordito.”
“Your body is magic.”
His responses aren’t verbal. They’re from his body. He glows under my praise, tightening around me, kissing me more deeply as his eyes widen and go shiny. He blinks away the emotion, trying to pretend it’s not there.
But I see it. I see it so clearly that he might as well be made of glass. Thrusting into him makes him seem more open and vulnerable, which should be terrifying. He’s falling, and I’m watching it happen. Instead of running, I’m holding on and falling right along with him.
I didn’t think I would have new experiences or feelings at my age. I was quite satisfied with how things were, the uncomplicated fucks that kept me sane while I roamed the countryside like Liam Neeson looking for his daughter.
Hm. I’m already saying words like was and were, talking about them in the past tense as if they’re some distant history, not a Grindr hookup from two weeks ago.
Speaking of, I took the app off my phone yesterday. Didn’t even think about it. Just push, swipe, gone.
Didn’t even think about it.
“What are you doing to me?” I ask, kissing his eyelids.
“Whatever I’m doing to you, you deserve it because you’re doing the same to me,” he grumbles, trying to act put out.
We’re here, right at the very beginning, not knowing nearly enough about each other, and yet…I feel as though I know everything about him. Or at least, I want to know everything as soon as I possibly can.
I’m reminded of an old Garfield cartoon where he stands at the end of the banquet table and tilts it toward his open mouth, eating all the food at once. Because that’s what I am—a glutton for him. I want all his secret stories, all his vulnerabilities, all his neediness.
With all the things I don’t yet know, I know for certain I’m going to fall in love with him. My sisters had both fallen in love almost immediately when they found their spouses. I’d scoffed each time they described how they’d known more or less immediately.
Gigi’s experience solidified the feeling that insta-love was a disaster waiting to happen, and Yaya just got lucky.
But I already feel it. I know it’s happening in real-time. Right now. I would already kill for him, and if that’s not the beginning of love, I don’t know what else is. Refocusing on the man in my arms, I speed up my thrusts.
“Beautiful.” I kiss his eyelids again.
