“Oh.” I turn this new information over in my head. “And you’re wearing something like that now?” Errol nods without answering or looking at me, his head still buried in his hands. “What does it look like?”
“What?” His head jerks up.
“I mean, I’m… curious,at least a little.” Even though I don’t exactly know why. But here we are. “So I guess what I’m asking is, can I see?”
Errol blinks at me before his expression darkens, eyes narrowing and brows lowering. “Are you fucking with me?”
“No! I’m sorry if it sounds weird. Was that bad to ask?”
“You really want to see.” He doesn’t say it like a question, but his tone is still one of disbelief.
“Yeah.” The conversation we had earlier about his interest in dominance and submission floats back into my mind, along with the whimper he let out when I tightened my grip on his hair while he was blowing me.
Seized with a flash of inspiration, I summon my best demanding-boss attitude. “Show me,” I say sharply. “I said I want to see.”
Errol’s eyes widen, his lips part and healmostmanages to stifle the little gasp that slips out. “OK,” he whispers. His eyes are saucers as he stands, fumbling a little with his belt as heundoes it. He’s unzipped with his hands at his waistband when he pauses. “Down or off?”
We’ve dressed or undressed in front of each other countless times, giving this moment a surreal quality — at once familiar and yet wholly alien. I don’t understand what’s going on inside of me. There’s just something about Errol’s manner, both eager and hesitant, and the hushed pitch of his voice. I never could have imagined that I’d be into telling him what to do and getting a charge out of it when he does, but —once again — here we are.
I swallow and try to sound authoritative. “Off. Not just your pants. Everything.”
The short distance between us virtually crackles with electricity. Errol rushes to take off his shirt before yanking his pants down and stepping out of them. Standing in front of me, he brings his hands in front of his crotch.
I shake my head. “Uh-uh. Don’t do that.” He snaps his arms to his sides, face flushing again as I take in the sight in front of me.
There’s nothingkind offeminine about this.Unapologeticallyfeminine is more like it. I can see the outline of his hard cock behind red satin. The snug, shiny fabric cups his balls. Despite the skimpy cut and the black lace bordering the waistband,the shape makes it clear that these aren’t actually women’s underwear. The realization is unexpectedly andentirelyarousing. So is Errol’s shy but absolute obedience.
I run my tongue over my lips. “Turn around for me.” Even though Ijustcame, my dick twitches at the combination of the visual and the weird, hot sense of power I get from his eagerness to do what I tell him.
The entire back of the underwear is sheer black lace. It hugs the globes of his ass tightly, its floral pattern accentuating their fullness. Sure, I’ve had women decked out in lingerie in my bed before. This isnothinglike that. It’s different —sexy in away I can’t quite describe, but that my rapidly stiffening cock completely endorses.Sinfulis kind of a funny word, but it’s the one that pops into my head as my eyes devour his thick, lace-covered ass.
When Errol turns back to face me, my eyebrows go up as I notice the darker spot where the satin covers his swollen cockhead. He’s soaked through his panties with precum. “Fuck, that’s hot,” I breathe.
It’s an effort to tear my eyes away from his cock to look at his face. I’m surprised to see that he looks uncomfortable. “You don’t think my ass is too big?” he mumbles.
“What?” My heart sinks that his mind goes there. “No, of course not.” I give my head a little shake. “You are —you’re just a fucking sight. Just really sexy —sinful, even.” That brings the hint of a smile to his lips.
I laugh as a memory surfaces. “That very first day when I walked into Finn’s and saw you, I caught myself checking out your ass when you walked away to get me a beer.”
“Really?” Errol studies my face. “No way. You’re yanking my chain.”
“God’s honest truth. Surprised the fuck out of me when I realized I was doing it,” I confess. A question has been circling in my head since Errol’s admission. “Do you wear stuff like that all the time?”
“No. Most of the stuff like this I have is… skimpier —” My eyebrows go up as my gaze shamelessly drops back to Errol’s crotch. He follows my eyes and exhales a quiet laugh. “Like thongs and stuff. I figured this pair would be the most comfortable for lugging boxes of stuff around.”
“Oh. Why’d you decide to wear them today? I mean, instead of briefs or whatever.”
Errol gives me that shy-sly grin I’m rapidly coming to love. “This is my lucky pair. I guess I was feeling a little superstitious.”
I’m about to reply, but my train of thought is derailed when I see what I was too focused on Errol’s underwear to notice before: A silver ring runs through each of his nipples. The bright glint of metal stands out against his nearly hairless chest.
“Oh, shit! You’re pierced.”
“Uh-huh,” he says a little shyly, and I bring my eyes back to his face again. White hair tumbles over his forehead, disheveled from pulling his T-shirt quickly over his head, and his cheeks are flushed. There’s still a hint of uncertainty in his expression, but his dark eyes are gleaming. “Like what you see?” he asks in a whisper, and I can’t do anything but grin like an idiot for a few seconds.
“Yeah — for sure. It’s hot.” I reach out and run my fingers over one of his nipples. Errol stifles a groan. I bring my eyes to his face. “Does it make them more sensitive?” I ask, although from the lust in his eyes and the way he’s biting his lip, I’m guessing I know the answer.
“Uh-huh. Alot, actually. Like, I don’t think I’ve ever comejustfrom nipple play, but if you keep doing that, you might not even have to blow me.”
