“Do you want it to?”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
PERCY
Do I?The question is laughable. The warmth of Butch’s thigh against mine is enough to make my dick ache and my heart race. Of course I want to. I want to forget every ounce of insecurity I have about the size of my dick or how weird he might find it that I don’t ejaculate when I come, and embrace all of the filthy, exciting, downright slutty impulses I’ve had since the second I laid eyes on him.
Can I?
Should I?
It’s not like I’m saving myself for marriage. I’m not even saving myself for a serious relationship or love or anything like that. I just want to feel safe with someone first. And Butch… with his puppy dog smiles and patient, authoritative encouragement definitely feels safe.
So what if I’m not his type? I don’t need forever with him. I don’t need him to fall head over heels in love with me. I just want to know what it’s like to completely let go and trust someone to make me feel sexy and wanted andgood.
“Yeah,” I answer breathlessly.
His eyes darken and the bulge between his thick thighs noticeably strains against his shorts. He wants me. Or maybe he’s just horny and I’m here. Either way, I’m fine with it. I want it. I wanthim.
“Are you s?—”
I launch myself forward and muffle the end of his question with my mouth. My empty beer bottle slips from between my fingers and clatters to the floor next to the couch, thankfully not shattering, just rolling under the coffee table. He grunts against my lips, his breath warm and his body solid under my hands as I slip them under his shirt to feel the hard planes of his belly.
Much more carefully than I did, Butch sets his drink down next to the couch without breaking our kiss, then he wraps his arms around me and hauls me onto his lap. I felt his hard, thick length against my thigh and pressed against my ass when we were camping, but having it pressed right up against my cock as he slides his tongue between my lips is a world of pleasure my imagination has never done any justice to.
I moan around his tongue, trembling at the sparks of pleasure that heat the pit of my stomach and dance along my spine. His hands roam over my ass and thighs, up my back, following the curve of my spine. But every inch of his touch is blunted by too many clothes.
“Can we go to your bedroom?” I swivel my hips to grind my cock against his again and whimper as he digs his fingers into my ass cheeks.
“Yeah,” he murmurs before recapturing my lips, licking into my mouth again like he can’t get enough of me.
I sigh and sink back into the kiss, forgetting for just a second about the frustrating amount of clothes we’re both wearing and letting myself get lost in the rhythm of our tongues, hungrilylapping up the muffled sounds we trade. Butch kisses like he plans to devour me, and fuck me, I want him to.
He slides his hands down to my thighs, getting a grip on them from the back, and then, without warning, stands up from the couch. I gasp into his mouth and wrap my arms and legs around him. Butch chuckles, the sound bouncing through his chest in a way that feels lighter than air. It’s the reminder I need that this doesn’t have to be serious or scary or nerve-racking. This is Butch. Hooking up with him can just be fun.
“New fitness goal: get strong enough to pickyouup,” I joke, kissing along the edge of his strong, square jaw, the slightest bit of stubble dragging against my lips. I can still taste the warmth of his shower on his skin and a spicy, soapy flavor.
He laughs again. “Good thing you have a personal trainer to help you with that.”
“Good thing.” I catch his earlobe gently between my teeth.
His breath hitches and he digs his fingers harder into my thighs.
“Oh, fuck yeah, Rocky. I definitely want more of that.” He nudges his bedroom door open with his foot and carries me inside. The city lights coming in through the windows are enough to illuminate it without switching on a lamp, while still leaving enough shadows that I won’t feel like there’s a spotlight on me. “But first…”
He tosses me onto his bed like I weigh nothing. I gasp, laughing, and scramble backward, grabbing the hem of my shirt to tug it over my head. I toss it aside and meet his gaze again as he towers over me next to the bed, his eyes smoldering and his lips damp from our kiss in the dim light.
“But first?” I prompt him to finish what he was saying.
“First,” he says again, his voice rough as he reaches down to palm his cock through his shorts, devouring me with his eyes. “Is there some kind of orientation? Stuff I need to know? Anythingthat would make you uncomfortable that I need to avoid? Give me hooking-up-with-Percy 101.”
My heartbeat stutters and the heat building inside me turns into something much softer and squishier for a second. I give him a crooked smile and get up onto my knees so I’m not so far away from him. I run my hands over his chest, then down to grab the hem of his shirt, bumping our noses and teasing his lips with mine as I slowly tug it up and pull it off.
“Let’s take things a little slow. Maybe no fucking, but other than that, nothing too different,” I assure him. “Like I said, I’ve had bottom surgery, it’s called a meta. And I’ve had a scrotoplasty with implants, so I have the… uh… usual equipment for the most part. It pretty much works the same except I don’t get hard exactly the same way, more swollen and sensitive. And, uh, I won’t actually ejaculate. But… my dick… um…” I swallow. Butch has “top” written all over him, so I’m hoping it won’t matter, but I’ve been in the queer community long enough to know that plenty of guys who read as tops aren’t, and that dick size can be a big deal to a lot of men regardless of whether they want to get fucked or not.
“It’s no big deal, Rocky,” he says with that calm authority I’ve started to associate with our training sessions.
“Yeah, that’s pretty much the thing.” I wheeze out a laugh. “My dick is definitely not a big deal.”
