Giles says something but it gets lost in my shoulder as he turns his head and buries his mouth in the skin and hair there. He reaches a hand down and completes the job for me, pulling his boxers all the way down his legs.
“Lube,” I say. “Where’s the lube?”
“That giant bottle?” Giles huffs out a brief laugh. “I think we left it in the kitchen after all that.”
“You don’t have any in here?” I ask.
“Yeah, I do,” he says and he pulls away from me, rolling onto his back, but still he keeps his hand under my body and I am inexplicably grateful for it, for him not completely breaking the connection. As he rummages with the other hand in the drawer beside his bed, I take in the full sight of him.
Once again, his body amazes me. It’s a testament to Giles’ hard work and discipline, and perhaps good genes too because I’m almost certain I’d never look like this. Not now I’m this side of forty. I try to dig deeper into this admiration I feel for his physical presence. Is it just because he’sso defined, so muscular, so toned? Do I aspire to be like him, or do I aspire to bewithhim?
It’s a moment of doubt. A wobble. But then he rolls back, a box of condoms and a tube in his hand, and his blue-green eyes land on me. They sparkle a little, the swirls of colour mixing and blending and reminding me of the English seaside, that point on the horizon where the sky meets the sea. I feel a warmth spread through my body, stretching from my toes to the tips of my ears.
Withhim. I definitely want to be with Giles. Even if it’s just like this. Side by side on his bed, our arms around each other.
Which is not why I’m here. I’m here to fuck him. That’s the deal. That’s what I’ve got to focus on.
I take the lube out of his hand, and then – using considerable strength – I roll him so he’s on top of me.
Completely naked. On top of me.
“Is this okay?” I ask him.
“As long as I’m not crushing you.”
I shake my head. “You’re not. I just… I just want to know if I can get you ready like this.”
“Get me ready?” He lifts up a bit higher. “Have you been doing your homework?”
“Well, yeah,” I admit. “When you went to the bathroom to get ready, I realised how little I knew about, well the ins and outs of anal. If you’ll forgive the pun.”
“I love a pun. Especially an anal pun.”
“That sounds like a sex toy.”
“It definitely sounds like it should be. So tell me about this homework you did.”
“Well, I Googled it, didn’t I.”
Giles frowns down at me. “Googled what, exactly?”
“I think I started with ‘How to have anal sex with a man’ and then ended up on this article sharing the ten things you need to know about topping someone with a prostate.”
“And…”
“Well, I know that I have to get you ready,” I say. “With like lube and my fingers and stuff.”
“I mean,” Giles bites his lips into his mouth for a second, “youdon’t have to do that. I can do that myself.”
“I… I want to,” I say, sounding hesitant, which is not how I feel. Well, it’s not only how I feel. “As in I want to, but I want to do it in a way that works for you. Doesn’t make you feel like you’re having a prostate exam.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had one of those. At least not by a medical professional. Or rather, a medical professional who was still on duty.”
That comment has a question rising to the top of my mind, like a newly inflated helium balloon. “How many… How many men have you slept with?”
Giles’ mouth snaps shut and his eyes glaze over, not quite maintaining contact with mine.
“You don’t have to answer that.” I release his dick, realising it’s not as hard as it was a moment ago. This conversation has veered so far away from the happy, horny place I was in. And it’s all my fault. “That was too nosey of me. Forget I said anything.”
