He steps right up to me, nuzzling my jaw with his chin as he whispers in my ear. He has a short, neat beard that tickles my skin. Everything about him is neat. He’s wearing a shirt, tie, and pressed trousers, for fuck’s sake.
“You won’t be thinking of them when I have my cock buried in your arse.”
“Oh.” I shiver, and blood rushes to my cock. Not enough to make it hard but enough to turn me on.
“You’ve slept with men before?”
My face becomes so hot I’ve probably gone an unhealthy shade of red. “Yes, of course.”
“I only wondered because…”
“I have a daughter?’
“I was going to say because you seem unsure. You probably wouldn’t have come here tonight, let alone asked me to fuck you if you weren’t bi or pan. Or at the very least bi-curious. But liking men and having experience with them are two different things.”
“I have experience. It’s not the thought of getting fucked that’s bothering me,” I assure him.
“Just the location?”
I nod and glance at the door. “Is there anywhere more private?”
“I’m afraid not.”
I take a breath. If I want to get fucked tonight, I’m going to have to deal with the fact we won’t be alone. I scan the room. It’s hard to make out faces in the low, red light, but I’m pretty sure my brothers aren’t in here getting screwed. Thank fuck. That would be too weird.
“It’s up to you, Corey. I’m not going to ask you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I’m happy to go back into the lounge and carry on talking about art.”
“Really?”
His smile lights up the dim room. “Yes. Most of my friends wouldn’t know the difference between a Manet and a Monet if one bit them on the arse.”
I laugh, the sound coming out too loud to be polite, and press my hand over my mouth, containing it. “Not many people would. I know several hundred pupils who would just think I’d spelt Monet wrong.”
He grins and gestures to the door. “Shall we?”
“No. I want to stay.” Just knowing that Spence is willing to forgo sex is enough to convince me I want him to screw me.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. I really want you to fuck me, Spence.”
He curls his hand around my cheek and jaw. “Then surrender yourself to me, Corey. Let me take the lead and help you relax. I promise you won’t regret it.”
“Okay.”
He takes my hand again and leads me to a weird-looking sofa. It’s curved, one hump larger than the other, and has no back or arms. It’s covered in dark red leather, which will be easy to wipe down when we’re done. I try not to think about how many other people have had sex on it. There’s a table next to it with condoms, packets of lube, and wipes to clean up with.
Spence lets go of my hand and stands behind me. He massages my shoulders and kisses my neck. Damn, his fingers are like magic as they press into my bunched-up muscles. There are twinges of pain as he works them loose, but it’s also amazing.
“Do you have any limits?” he asks.
“We’re going to fuck, not play.”
“Even so. There still might be things you don’t want to do.”
“No going bareback.”
He chuckles against my skin. “That’s against the rules.”
