“Is there a better reward?
Giles laughs lightly and then he gets up. He moves to stand in front of me
“Remember to tell me to stop if something doesn’t feel good.
“Okay, but Giles, what are you…” I stop talking when I see him drop to his knees between my legs.
“I’ll go slow,” he tells me as he coasts his hands up my thighs and towards the fly of my jeans.
And he does. He moves agonisingly slow as his palms warm my inner thighs and his fingers fumble with the button on the fly of my jeans. When he’s finally pulling the zip down, I swear time has stopped, but then I realise it’s not time that has come to a halt, but my breath.
Forcing myself to exhale, I make a noise loud enough to pull Giles’ eyes up from where my jeans are open and to my face. His eyes have changed colour again. They’re darker, and the green flecks seem to have swollen and taken over the blue.It’s like they’ve transformed from the surface of the sea to the depth of the ocean and I suddenly feel like I’m drowning in them.
“Are you okay? Do you want me to touch you? To suck you?” he asks, his voice husky and rough.
I’m nodding before I’m realising that’s what I’m doing. I came here full of determination and focus. I wanted to explore the feelings I’ve been having. I wanted to test the attraction I’ve felt grow and grow for Giles. I wanted to see if it was something more than a new silly hyperfixation or a mid-life crisis. And I do want all those things. But as I look down into his ocean eyes, I realise there’s something I want more.
Giles. I want Giles.
I want this big, burly man with his endlessly kind eyes and a frown of concern that deepens as I keep him waiting for my answer.
Bringing a hand to his head, I comb my fingers through his short hair and his eyes close at the sensation.
“I want you to touch me, and fuck, yes, suck me,” I say and I shift my weight so my butt is off the bed. Smiling slowly up at me, Giles pulls my jeans down.
Moving my hand to pull down my boxers with the jeans that Giles has yanked off my legs, he looks up and flashes me a stern look.
“No,” he says with the slightest pout. “Not yet.”
“Are you telling me you give head with underwear still on?” I say, only half-joking.
“I’m saying again that I want to go slow.”
“Slow,” I repeat. “I hardly do anything slow. Apart from run.”
Giles laughs heartily as his gaze drops back to my crotch and his hands are on my thighs again.
“Remember to stop me if it doesn’t feel good.”
“I will.”
And then he does the last thing I expect. He buries his face in my groin and sniffs, inhales,consumesmy scent. His nose pokes through the cottonof my boxers and against the sensitive skin that lines the crease where my leg and hip meet and he pushes further into me as he takes in another deep inhale.
Thank God I showered and the Tube wasn’t a total sweat-fest.
I’m about to ask Giles if he likes what he smells but then his hand moves under his neck and brushes up against my cock. I nearly jolt back but manage to stop myself from jumping. For all the many times I’ve fantasised about this happening, about Giles’ big hands on my dick, I suddenly feel unprepared for the reality. But as both of his hands spread against my inner thighs, I tell myself to calm down. I tell myself to not worry about the fact that I’m not yet fully hard – a fact that has more to do with my nerves than anything else – and I remind myself that I can stop this at any time. Giles told me so, at least twice.
But I don’t want Giles to stop. Especially not when he uses his palms to push my legs wider apart and he inches closer to me, taking up the space he creates.
Leaning back a little, he looks down and then up at me again.
“Okay?”
I nod. Words feel too difficult. Maybe because, like there often are, there are just so many thoughts bouncing around my head.
Does he expect me to be hard? Does hewantme to be hard? Will he like my penis? What if he takes one look at it and changes his mind? What if he changes his mind after licking it? Maybe I taste bad? Did I eat any fruit in the last twenty-four hours? Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do for oral sex? Oh, God, does Giles swallow? Will he swallow me? Am I supposed to come? We didn’t talk about that… Shit, there’s so much we didn’t talk about and Giles was trying to talk but I shut him down because I was so eager and now I’m not eager. Now I’m just very, very scared and…
“Marcello?”
