“Are you all healed?” he asked. “Your shoulder?”
“My shoulder is good enough for this. I want to show you a new way to take my cock,” I said, my fingers threading through his hair. “You good with that?”
“Yeah.” His voice was rough, breathless. “Show me.”
I unbuckled my belt, unhurried despite the urgency thrumming through my veins. I wanted to savor this—Xavier’s upturned face, his parted lips, the way his hands trembled as he reached for me.
He freed my cock, eager but vulnerable.
“Take your time,” I murmured, guiding him. His breath was hot on me, then his mouth—cautious at first, then bolder. The sensation hit hard, my fingers tightening in his hair.
“Fuck, X,” I breathed. “That’s good, take more.”
He did, inch by inch, his hands gripping my thighs. I could see the bulge in his jeans. He was getting off on this—on pleasing me, on submitting.
“Look at you,” I said, my voice rough with desire. “Taking my cock so well. You like this, don’t you? Like being on your knees for me.”
He made an affirmative sound around my cock, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that stole my breath. I could see it there—not just desire, but something deeper. Trust. Affection. Maybe even love, though neither of us had said it out loud yet.
I pulled out of his mouth, my cock leaving his lips with a wet sound that echoed in the open space. “Up,” I commanded, and he scrambled to his feet.
I kissed him, my hands rough on his body as we stumbled toward the worn couch, pulling the rest of our clothes off.
I wanted to collapse onto the couch and fuck him, but he made me go gentle on my shoulder.
“I want to try something,” I said against his lips. “Something new. You trust me?”
“Always.” No hesitation. Just absolute certainty.
I maneuvered us so I was on my back on the couch, head toward one end, and he was above me, facing the opposite direction, knees on either side of my head.
“Oh fuck,” Xavier breathed, understanding dawning. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” I lowered my hips, bringing my cock back to his mouth while I bent forward to take his length between my lips.
The first taste of him made me groan—salt and musk, Xavier’s unique flavor, something I wanted to memorize, to taste forever. Because I was in love with him. Why couldn’t I just say that to him?Instead, I sucked harder.
I took him deep, feeling the head of his cock hit the back of my throat, and he moaned around my own length, the vibration sending sparks up my spine. We found a rhythm together, moving in sync, our bodies learning this new language of pleasure.
My hand found his ass, fingers tracing the cleft before pressing against his entrance. I pushed one finger inside easily, finding his prostate, pinning him between my hand and mouth, so that everywhere he moved, he found pleasure.
Xavier’s whole body jerked, a muffled cry vibrating around my cock as I stroked that sweet spot inside him. His hips bucked up, driving his cock deeper into my throat, and I took it, swallowing around him, giving him everything.
The barndominium filled with the wet sounds of our mouths, the rhythmic slap of skin, our mingled groans of pleasure. My cock was so hard it hurt, Xavier’s throat working around me with increasing confidence. And his cock—fuck, I could feel him getting close, his balls tightening, his body tensing.
The sound of a car door closing outside made us both freeze. Then footsteps on the gravel. Keys jingling. The distinctive click of June’s sensible flats on the wooden porch steps.
Before I could decide what to do, the door swung open and June stepped inside, briefcase in one hand, a paper bag that smelled like Thai food in the other. She wore her work clothes—a Heleonix polo tucked into khakis, her hair twisted up with that pencil she always forgot about.
She’d texted yesterday, making plans to bring lunch on her way back from a meeting in Denver, but I’d forgotten about it. From where I was lying, I could see her, stopped in the doorway as she took in the scene. Xavier and me, naked on the couch, still flushed and breathing hard, our cocks inches from each other’s lips.“Hey, Junie,” I said. “Just getting each other off.”
For one suspended moment, nobody moved. I watched June’s face, trying to read her reaction, fear coiling in my gut.
Then, slowly, a smile spread across her face—not forced or polite, but genuine and warm and touched with heat.
“Don’t stop on my account,” she said, setting down the food bag with careful precision. She perched on the arm of the couch, close enough to touch, her eyes roaming over our naked bodies with obvious appreciation. “You both look incredible like this.”
“I just brought lunch as promised. But this—” her gaze swept over us again, lingering on our half-hard cocks, “—this is much better than Thai food.”
