Instead, I stay deep in the closet with my secret close to my heart and enjoy my hand and a few toys when the need becomes too much. I don’t mind the closet. I’ve made myself a home here.
Up until now, I haven’t been driven to temptation at all. That doesn’t mean I haven’t met or seen some stupidly attractive men over the years. It just means my resolve has been too strong to give in. My goal, my one track mind, is what has kept me so focused on my path and never deviating from it.
I turn my face into Lo’s hair and breathe him in. He mostly smells like sweat and sex, but there’s a hint of shampoo there. A tease at what Lo smells like normally. Is he more attractive because we’ve fooled around? After the third orgasm somewhere around four this morning, I fell into a hard sleep. Peaceful.
Nothing has ever felt so fucking good as his hand and mouth on me. On my dick. On my lips. On my nipples.
He ran his hands over my ass and along my crack a lot, but he never tried to go further than foreplay. Now I’m wondering whether it’s because he doesn’t want sex, or if he saw through more than what I volunteered last night and knows the truth. He literally blew a whole lot of firsts out of the water in a single night.
I’m not sure if I’m ready to have sex. It’s not that I’m saving it for any special thing or person or occasion. It’s more that… right now, I don’t know what I’m missing. There’s porn that tells you what’s out there and there’s toys and shit. But with another body touching me, sharing it with me, I think it will change everything and staying closeted will be a lot more difficult than it is right now.
For now, I have a system. I’ve made a comfortable life living in a way that no one suspects. You know, probably. I imagine if someone were to look closely, they’d see the holes in my stories. But why would they look? No one cares and I haven’t given them a reason to.
Lo sighs in his sleep again, this time shifting. He’d been kind of draped over me, but facing the other way, now he’s shifted so he can stretch up my body and press his face into my neck. I grin. There’s something really cute about it.
Unsure if I’m allowed to touch him, I softly brush my fingers through the back of his hair. His arm that’s draped over me curls and his hand lands on my stomach. He’s definitely far more confident than I am. That hand moves up my torso and pauses at my nipple, softly squeezing it and twisting it.
Until last night, I had no idea my nipples were as sensitive as they are. Just this little touch has my body heating. Lo’s lips curl against my skin and then he kisses my neck.
He shifts on my body again, bringing his leg between mine and pressing his thigh to my hard cock. Rubbing against me. Rocking into me. I groan.
And here I thought it might be awkward this morning. I stretch my head back, giving Lo more of my neck. I’m a whore for his touch. He can touch me anywhere he wants. I’ve never felt the electricity move through my skin quite like it does with him.
I mean, why would I? I’ve been the only one touching myself my entire life. This is going to get addicting.
“Want a morning fuck?” he murmurs.
I shiver and wonder if he means that literally. When I don’t answer, Lo picks his head up and meets my eyes.
“Do you always bring condoms to games?” I ask.
He grins and damn, he’s hot first thing in the morning. There’s a wrinkle crease on his cheek and his hair is standing onend. The slight shadow on his chin is darker and fuller than last night, but still barely more than a hint.
“Yes. Traveling is usually the only time I hook up. Far from home where no one knows me.”
“How do you ensure that they don’t recognize you?”
“I do some admittedly lazy preliminary questioning before I decide whether I’ll meet them. And they must host.”
“You meet these guys online?”
Lo gives me an amused smile. “Yeah. Thrustr. How do you meet guys?”
There’s the question I hate, though at least it’s about guys this time instead of girls. I’m surprised by how much I appreciate the correct question.
“Clubs,” I answer, as I always do.
“That has a bigger chance at being recognized than an anonymous guy online,” he points out. “And yes, I always bring my own protection because it’s not negotiable.”
I nod. That’s reassuring.
“But we don’t have to fuck, Caulder.”
“I…”
He smirks. There’s a dimple when he smirks. I’d like to stick my tongue in it. Taste it. His smirk is stupidly sexy. Especially all morning rumpled like this.
“I meant fuck, as in ‘do you want to get off again’ more than the literal meaning of the word,” he explains. “I’m not going to push you into something you don’t want to do.”
