“What are you calling crappy? Your dick seemed to enjoy it.”
He glared at me. “Shut up.”
“Do you have a better suggestion to figure out the winner?”
He sighed. “Fine, let’s do it your way.” He placed both of his hands onto the couch on either side of him, curling his fingers into the woven linen.
“What was I saying?” I said. “Oh yes. Your cock wasdown my throat and —”
“No,” Taylor growled, and the animalistic sound shot a jolt of electricity down my body, all the way to the tip of my cock. “You’ve been talking for too long. It’s my turn.”
He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with the movement. “You were saying you wouldn’t let me cum. No, you wouldn’t. Just when I was on the edge, you’d slide my dick out. You’d be panting, your face all messy. I’d rub my cock on your lips, get them glistening wet, and you’d love it. And do you know what you’d do next? Do you?”
I clamped my jaw shut so I wouldn’t be tempted to answer.
“You’d turn around and get on your hands and knees. Presenting that perfect ass to me.”
I forced myself not to let the surprise show on my face. Because thatwaswhere I was going in my story. My extremely gay story.
“Oh, did you think I wouldn’t notice how perfect your ass is? I’ve wanted a piece of it for ages. And you’d finally give it to me. I’d press myself against your clothed ass — I wouldn’t even touch you skin on skin — and yet you’d let out the most delicious moan I’ve ever heard. I ask you if you want it, and you’re too gone to answer. So you know what you do instead?”
Pull my shorts down, I thought.
“You pull your shorts down, giving me a view of yourcheeks, and that tiny little asshole. And it’s so hot, I almost cum right then. But I stop myself. I’m not going to finish. Not until I’m inside you.”
I bit down on my tongue to stop myself from gasping.Don’t touch yourself,I thought.Don’t, don’t, don’t. I won’t. No way in hell.
“I lean over and stick two fingers in your mouth, and you take them eagerly, licking them up and down and coating them in spit. When you can’t take it anymore, you wiggle your hips, shaking your ass like a whore. And I know you want it,” Taylor said, voice more breathy than usual. “And I press my slippery fingers against that tight pucker and slowly, slowly, work them inside.”
“Stop,” I ordered, though it came out more like a groan. “It’s— it’s my turn.”
“Fine,” he said, eyelids lowered. “Go ahead.”
I took a moment to gather my thoughts, and made the mistake of looking at my crotch. There was a wet spot on my boxers. Fuck.
To my relief, Taylor was leaking pre-cum too. Good. He was almost there. All I needed to do was drive him insane, insane enough to touch himself.
I knew I needed to continue the story. Part of me wanted to — to see what would happen next, to get to the climax. But even though I was muddled with lust, there was still a part of my brain working. A part of my brain that was conscious enough to understand that we were talkingabout Taylor fucking me. And worse, me enjoying it.
I was going to win this competition. I had to, of course. But I had standards, and there was no way I was going to talk about Taylor fucking me.
“Hurry up,” Taylor snapped, tearing me from my thoughts.
I blinked at him. “W—what?”
“You’ve been sitting there in silence for the past minute,” he said, jaw tight. “Hurry up and say something.”
“I’m…” I had to swallow, because my throat was dry. “I’m just thinking.”
“How long does it take tothink?” he hissed.
I opened my mouth, then closed it.
He let out a long-suffering groan, then raised both hands and placed them onto his thighs, digging his fingernails into the skin until it left red crescent-moon marks.
“What are you doing?”
“Calm down,” he gritted out. “I’m not touching my dick, I just…”
