“I can’t wait to be inside you.”
My elbows give way and my head comes crashing down onto the pillows, sending my butt up even higher.
“Yes, Giles,” Marcello says and I feel more slickness on me. More lube. He uses it to push another finger inside me so slowly it’s agonising.
“Can I move my fingers?”
“Yes, please, fuck, yes,” I whimper, too turned on to care. There’s a reason I’m not touching myself right now. I’m terrified if I did, I’d come instantly. And I don’t want that. I want to come with Marcello inside me, if I can.
“Is this okay?” he asks as he slides his fingers in and out, fucking me steadily, teasingly.
“Yes,” I mumble into the pillow before turning my head to the side. “But give me more. Go deeper.
He does exactly that and I feel him brush up against my prostate. My toes curl, my body shakes and my breath halts.
“Was that…” Marcello does it again.
“Mmm, yeah, that’s my prostate.”
“Right there?” He pushes against it and I involuntarily squeeze my rim around the base of his fingers. “Oh, yeah. That’s fucking hot.”
“Please, Marcello, stretch me. I need you,” I am begging him now but it feels like to do anything else would be a lie.
“Is it always like this?” he asks and I feel him pull his fingers apart slightly. “Do you always want it this bad?”
His question stops my pending orgasm in its tracks. How do I answer that? Do I answer honestly and he finds out that no, it’s not always like this? In fact, it’s rarely been like this – this dizzying and yet easy and natural connection. Or do I lie and have him thinking that this is what typical queer sex is like? Have him not realise what he’s doing to me?
It feels like the universe saves me when Marcello doesn’t wait for an answer and instead slides another finger inside me.
“Is that still okay?”
“Yes, fuck, yes.” I push back against his hand, taking him deeper. Like sunshine shining through thick clouds, I have a moment of enough clarity to check in with him. “And you?” I turn my head. “Are you okay?”
I see a very attractive side-smile pull up one side of his face. “Oh, yeah. I’m having the time of my fucking life.”
Looking down, I can see enough to notice that he’s turned on. It’s seeing his erect penis that I recall just how big and thick he is. My mouth goes suddenly very dry.
“Get yourself ready,” I tell him. “Put a condom on and then lube up your dick. Use a lot of it.”
“That I know how to do.”
His fingers leave my hole and I muffle my moan of disappointment into the pillow again. I should have told him not to move his hand.
But I don’t have to wait long to feel his touch again. One of his hands lands on the top of my ass, his fingertips resting on my lower back. And then I feel something fat and blunt and slick press against my hole.
“Lube, more lube,” I say. It’s cold when it drips down on me but I’m grateful for it. It’s a shock of a sensation that takes me away from fixating on how Marcello is touching me all curious and hesitant and yetdetermined and focused. His silence seems to speak volumes and I don’t need to look at him to imagine his frown of concentration. Even without seeing it, I want to soothe it away. “That feels good,” I coo as he pushes more lube inside me.
“Can I fuck you now?” Marcello says. “Or at least, try?”
“Yes,” I manage to hiss out. When what I really want to say is, “Yes, please, fuck, my God, yes, fuck me so good.”
And that’s when it starts. No, not Marcello sliding his dick inside me but when I start to make deals with myself.
I tell myself if I can just keep a lid on my feelings now, then Marcello won’t know just how I feel about him. And if he doesn’t know how I feel about him, then he will keep wanting these sex lessons. And if we can keep doing these sex lessons, maybe we’ll just get closer and closer and something will materialise between us. If I can just make this as good as it can be for him. Maybe he’ll start to feel it too.
If I work extra hard on keeping my urges in check. If I get up earlier to do my cleaning. If I keep helping him in the gym. If I… If I… If I…
I’m grateful when the stretch of Marcello’s cock blasts away any resolution to keep bargaining with… who? I’m never really sure who it is I’m making these deals with. God? No, I wasn’t raised with religion and I rarely give it much thought. With the universe? Possibly. With karma? Yes, that’s more likely.
