Julien steps between Greg and the dresser, holding out a different towel for him to take. “You’re still okay with this?” The sound of running water creeps in from the bathroom just off to the side.
“Absolutely,” Greg says, accepting the towel.
“Use any of the products in there that you like.”
The bathroom mirror is already fogged. The steam envelops Greg and stirs his arousal. There’s something about humidity that has always awoken a horniness inside him, the shower being the foremost place he’s had the privacy to pleasure himself. He strips and tests the water before stepping into the stream, washing away the day and the grime, pumping himself up for the main event.
He and Julien had discussed this at length—that one of Julien’s needs was that his partner had to shower at his place. Greg understands requiring mental comfort to unwind fully. He’s more than happy to provide proof of his personal hygiene and use only scentless products if that’s what it takes to bed Julien Boire.
Ever since the shirt-sharing, he has wanted this, which is why he isn’t surprised when his cock comes awake as he lathers it with moisturizing bodywash. Just feet from where Greg is standing, Julien is preparing an arsenal of pleasure devices for them to explore with. It’s no wonder he’s growing hard. He was chubbing up on the drive over, too.
After a twelve-minute deep scrub, he towels off, moisturizes his face, and steps back into his underwear. He wants there to be some sense of intrigue, something to unwrap, even if his semierect dick is pointing up toward the waistband, threatening to expose itself before its time. He picked out a tiny, risqué pair before he left. Unselfconsciously, he steps back into the bedroom.
Julien is standing by the window near the dresser sipping from his water glass, looking radiant in the light of the streetlamp that filters in from outside and the electric tea lights he’s placed throughout the room.
“All clean,” Greg announces.
Julien turns back and casts a wicked smile his way. It’s clear he likes the view. Both from his face and from the tentpole threatening to part the flaps of his robe. “Care to take a look?”
Greg doesn’t know why his legs have become Jell-O shots. It’s not like dildos can hurt him. “This is quite the impressive collection.”
“What’s so impressive about it?” Julien asks.
“It’s vastness, I guess.” The assortment spreads from edge to edge, no square of towel uncovered. “I don’t think I’ve ever owned a sex toy.”
“Never?” Julien sounds surprised.
Greg shrugs. “Just hasn’t crossed my mind.”
Julien nods. “Okay, we’ll ease into it.” He taps his phone, and soothing acoustic indie music pipes from a Bluetooth speaker. “Lie down on the bed.” Julien has stripped it down to his sheets, probably stowed the comforter and extra pillows away in the closet as not to make a mess of them.
Greg splays out as instructed, adjusts the pillow.
“You can, uh, take those off if you want to.” Julien is eyeing Greg’s gray Louis Vuitton briefs, which remind Greg of his old life. He doesn’t hesitate to wriggle out of them, disentangle himself from those memories while here with Julien. “I’ll take them.”
Julien folds the briefs and sets them on a chair in the corner. When he turns back, his eyes are alight with interest. Even though Greg has gone flaccid due to nerves, Julien seems to be relishing the view of his naked package. Greg’s confidence builds up and out again.
“Don’t be afraid to close your eyes,” Julien says, but Greg wouldn’t dream of it because Julien is finally untying his robe, hanging it up, and then standing there in unclothed, perfect glory. Greg could moan merely at the sight of him. “This is unscented oil. Is it okay if I use it on you?”
Greg’s elated words are caught up in the ball of excitement filling his throat, so he nods enthusiastically to convey his consent.
Rippling the bedsheets, Julien climbs up so that his thighs are bracketing Greg’s legs. Carefully, he pours out some oil, and even more carefully, he begins massaging Greg’s feet, then calves, working his way up and up and up until Greg is melting into the mattress.
Not that he’s hard. Not completely. But by the time Julien gets to his groin and then...God WHY...bypassesit, he’s wishing for some slick, tight attention between his legs.
Instead, Julien, seemingly in no hurry at all, presses his palms into the meaty muscle of Greg’s chest. Greg can feel Julien’s erection grazing his stomach, low hanging balls hovering just below. The warmth of Julien’s palms spirals down into Greg’s bones, liquefying them until he’s a puddle of relaxation and arousal.
Arousal.It’s in that relaxation that Greg senses the irregular stiffening down south, from pool noodle to telephone pole.
Overjoyed, Greg inches his head off the pillow toward Julien’s, but Julien’s hand presses into the center of his chest, knocking him lightly back into place. “Remember our rule...”
Oh, right.Julien is meeting Greg where he’s at, so he needs to do the same for Julien, despite how desperate he is to kiss him, feel their mouths unite. Boundaries are boundaries for a reason. Maybe it’s a germs thing. Maybe it’s an intimacy thing. It doesn’t matter. Julien has the right to enjoy this experience however he chooses.
“Sorry. Wasn’t thinking.”
Julien’s expression grows alluringly bashful. “But I do enjoy using my mouth in other ways.”
Before Greg can utter a single syllable, Julien swallows him down to the base. He bobs and teases and uses his tongue with such impressive efficiency Greg would half expect him to be part sex machine—made up of some of those toys on top of the dresser that Greg keeps eyeing.
