“I’m getting mud on your?—”
He cut me off with a fiery kiss.
I couldn’t even worry about whether I was doing it right or wrong. His kisses were so good I followed suit and hoped to keep up, mud be damned.
Dusk was beginning to fall around us, and somewhere in the back of my head, I remembered the golden hour, when the light made everyone look beautiful.
Ozzie, covered in black clay, was certainly beautiful to me, even if I’d never considered applying that word to a man before. Just like that, we were pressing our bodies against one another, spreading mud everywhere.
“Can’t wait to get to your apartment,” he said, his voice rough with sex. “Need to taste you now.”
My brain short-circuited, and I made the approximation of a positive sound, enough to have him going to his knees. I cursed my muddy hands, wishing I could put them on him, wishing I could touch him.
I was just glad my jeans were mostly clean in front.
He unzipped me and fished out my cock one-handed, efficient enough to make me think he’d done that before. Seconds later, my shaft was enveloped in glorious, suctioning heat. Dizzy, I nearly choked on my tongue at the sight of my dick stretching his lips wide. I whimpered. “Feels so good.”
He smiled around my dick, and I nearly passed out right then and there. Then he snaked his hand down to cradle my balls, working his pointer finger along my taint. I froze for a moment, worried he could tell I’d played back there. Would he judge me?
Something about my tension must’ve set off an alarm bell, because he slid off my cock and sat back on his haunches. “You seem nervous. Do you want me to stop?”
“No, my brain just fritzed. Prob’ly ’cause you sucked it out through my dick.”
His rich laugh near my sensitive skin nearly killed me, and when he resumed seconds later, I was convinced I’d stumbled into some sort of afterlife. We were on an abandoned stretch of road, no one around us as the golden light gave way to dusk. The way his muddy thumb found and caressed my hip bone made me want to marry him.
“I’m gonna?—”
Holding me in place, he took me deeper. His eyes met mine, glittering and insistent, as ecstasy swept through me. I was powerless to do anything but let it build and rise as if it were coming from the rain-soaked earth—no, farther down. It felt like the blazing core of the planet was shooting up through my body, sending flames out through my fingertips.
Slowly, my senses came back online. A whip-poor-will called in the background, and I inhaled the sweet smell of wet grass long dead, glimpsed the orange disappearing at the horizon under the dark navy of night, felt the evening breeze in my hair.
Ozzie was staring up at me, his eyes glowing. Grinning, he rose and ran his nose against mine. I kissed him eagerly, then drew away, surprised by the taste on his tongue.
“Oh, sorry,” he said, rolling his lips inward.
I shook my head. “No. Nothing to apologize for. I’ve kissed a girlfriend after a blowjob, but it tasted different in your mouth.”
Fuck, what was I saying? I face-palmed, feeling new and inadequate.
And now I had mud on my forehead.
“Just c’mere,” I grunted, going in for another kiss so he’d know I was telling the truth. I dipped into his mouth, tasting myself, tasting him, losing my mind on the side of this dirt road. Tentatively, I slid my hand down his body, inhaling sharply when my palm connected with his erection. Suddenly, I couldn’t wait to touch him skin to skin, to smell his musky scent, to see him hard for me.
“Wait a second,” I said, remembering the week-old, half-drunk bottle of water in my school bag. I pointed to the bag he’d thrown into his car. “Water bottle.”
Grinning, he reached in, uncapped it, and poured it out over my hands to get the worst of the mud off. I wouldn’t be performing surgery anytime soon, but it was good enough.
I struggled with his belt, and even more with the zipper, but finally I got into his underwear. Soon, I was moaning from the pleasure of his hot flesh against my hand. I spat in my palm and slicked his length, loving the way he jumped and shuddered.
I’d always been fine having sex with women. Genuinely. I hadn’t felt anything was missing, necessarily, though I had thought the hype around sex had been that: hype. It was good, but not life changing.
This hand job, though, was definitely changing my life. I wasn’t even sure what to label my sexuality after this muddy interlude.
Ozzie nudged my cheek with his nose. “Hey, there. You’re not getting into your head, are you?”
“Maybe,” I said, finding that I needed to catch my breath. “It’s a helluva thing, figuring out I might have been gay—or something—this whole time.”
He let out that rich, deep laugh again and covered my hand with his, helping me to stroke him. Something about that gave me permission to stare into his eyes, to really take him in. He let me look, and it was the most intimate moment of my life.
