Finally, I’m hard again. I slide another hand between my legs, widening my thighs so I can reach my balls, snugged up in denim and cotton briefs.
“Yeah,” Mason says. “Yeah, that’s good. Does it feel good, Charlie?”
“Ye—Yes,” I say, and it does. Better than it should. But when was the last time I did something like this while a handsome man jerked off in front of me? He’s moving faster now, and I wish I had lube or something to offer him, but it doesn’t seem to matter as his dick leaks and he spreads the fluid over his shaft.
“Oh, Charlie,” he says, breathing hard. “Such a pretty boy. Neat, tidy boy. You don’t like making a mess, do you?”
I shake my head. “No.”
He laughs softly. “I’m going to make such a mess of you.”
And there it is. Who knew? His promise has barely hit the air and my dick swells in my jeans.
“Mason.” I stoke myself feverishly. On my knees, there isn’t much place for my hips to move, but I’m doing my best.
“Oh, you like that, don’t you?”
I shouldn’t, but the more I think about it, the more the idea has this edge-of-scary appeal.
“Yes.”
“Want me to mess you up? Take control and leave you with the cleanup?”
Jesus, what is this? My heart goes fluttery. I don’t even have a firm idea of what it is he’s offering. Not like I want to flounce around my apartment in a frilly apron offering to dust things for him. But if I don’t poke at the fantasy too closely, thefeelingof it makes me ache.
“Mason.” My chest is heaving. “I’m going to come.”
“This time,” he says, but I don’t get a chance to think about what he means, before he says, “Let me see you. Let me hear you.”
I whine as my balls pull up. I want to thrust, but I have nowhere to go, so I arch my spine, shoving my hips forward to press into my hand, imagining it’s him.
The orgasm is hot and fast, semen meeting cloth and shooting hot against my skin. When I open my eyes, Mason is grunting and his fist in stripping his cock furiously, and then he shouts, and come spurts onto my chin, over my face and down my neck, and I wasn’t expecting that, but the memory of his growl as he said he’d make a mess of me nearly has me coming all over again. I shiver when Mason leans over to kiss me one more time, his lips sliding in his come on my skin. I lick up as much of it as I can, and he groans his appreciation.
“Dirty boy,” he says. “You okay?”
I stare up at him, feeling something like awe and gratitude mixing together. “Yeah,” I say, sounding surprisingly sturdy.
“Good.” He straightens and does up his pants, then helps me to my feet. He pets my back, and part of me wants to lean into him, but I can’t shake the feeling that I did something wrong, so I don’t want his care and comfort now. I haven’t earned it.
“Really,” I say, taking a step back. “I’m fine.”
He tilts his head, like he doesn’t believe me, but that’s not my problem. Finally, he says, “We should get together in a few more weeks.”
“A few weeks?” I say, disappointed to have to wait so long.
Mason slides his thumb over my chin, smearing more of him into my skin. “About the dog.”
“Oh.” My ears go hot. “Right.” Where is she anyway? That she hasn’t broken anything or come running up the hall to see what we’re doing can only be explained if she’s been abducted by aliens while I was working out my sexual hang-ups with Mason.
Speaking of Mason, he says, “But if you wanted to get together again, you know, before that, I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.”
I grin, the expression unrestrained. “Yeah. That would be good.” Something like excitement comes to life inside me, a sharp contrast to the dread and confusion I’ve felt for the last months since Gavin left. Never mind the spunk cooling inside my pants. If Mason wants to do it again, I can’t say I’d complain.
Next time, I’ll get everything right.
8
Mason
