“You’re good?" he asked.
Was I good? I’d trapped his hand in my sex. I wasn’t even stroking his dick.
A pleasant buzz rewired my brain and relaxed all my muscles. My legs flopped open on the mattress. His hand remained. "I finished," I said, not sure if I could assess anything with my current buzz.
He stroked the thatch of unruly hair on my outer lips. “Do you want me to stay, or should I let you breathe?” he asked.
“Stay.” I hugged his arm and nuzzled his chest. It’d be cold and dead without him here. No tingles. No buzz at all.
He chuckled. “I meant my hand, but I’m down for snuggles.”
Ugh, of course that’s what he meant. I had to get a grip.
I ran my hand down his chest, then slipped into his boxers and lightly scratched his thigh. He gasped, his nose brushing mine. This way of initiating was his move, but I’d always been a fast learner. When he kissed me, I took it as permission to reach for what we both wanted: an experience…and each other.
24
Surprise
I’d never been particularly interested in dicks, but Sal’s was warm, firm velvet, a fleshy joystick that made his eyes roll back in his head when I twisted my fingers around the tip.
It was almost like a game: find the perfect combination to make him come.
I smiled at the wrinkle between his brow as I worked his cock. It was like even his forehead had dimples. He was such a beautiful, happy person. Tonight, I shared in his pleasure.
He laid on his back and clasped my hand, aiming his dick over his stomach. He tensed and thrust. “Fuck.” His hot seed barely spilled over my fingertips before he gathered it onto himself and collapsed onto the pillow.
I lifted the covers with my elbow so nothing would stick or stain. “Do you want to clean up?” I asked.
“Give me a minute.” He sighed wistfully.
Right. He should relax after such a big high. I shifted to use my knee as an additional support pole for the sheets.
“What are you doing?” He chuckled.
“Tenting the covers. I don’t want to make a mess.”
His mouth ticked up in an incredulous grin. “Are you going to stay that way until I get up?”
“I think so, as long as my muscles don’t give out.” I flexed my arm.
He used his toes to drag the sheet down an inch. “We could just push the sheets to the foot of the bed.”
“But then we’d be cold.” I gulped, my thigh trembling as I scooted lower. He didn’t need to see all of me, all flushed and sweaty in soaked, beige undergarments.
“You’re right. Let’s do this instead.” He lifted his knees up like he was set to launch in an invisible spaceship, or maybe fart in a blanket fort. “I think this is much more relaxing,” he joked.
Laughing, I yanked the covers off him and ignored the milky gel pooled on his abs. “Fine, lay down as long as you like. I’ll wash up.”
“Aw, don’t leave. Who will explain the plot of this movie to me?” he teased.
I rolled my eyes and snatched a throw blanket, hugging it to my body as I hurried to the bathroom. Thankfully, my pajamas from the night before were still in there. But no spare underwear. I supposed it was fine to go commando if I was covered elsewhere.
My bare sex squelched as I returned to sit next to him. Why was I still so wet, even after cleaning up? I hugged my knees and tried to do some kegel exercises to lock all this excess lube in.
Sal washed up, then stood by the bed. “Do you still want me to stay over, or should I make myself scarce?”
“You can stay and chat. At least until the credits.” I gestured to the TV.
