I eye him up. “Same. Although, I don’t know about you, but it’s been muggy all day, and I want a shower.”
There’s that wolfish grin again. “Let me soap you up, and you have yourself a deal.”
“Geeze, you drive a hard bargain,” I tease, playfully rolling my eyes as I strip off my shirt and make my way into my attached bathroom.
It’s only when Evan steps up to me, unapologetically naked as the day he was born, that I realize that perhaps I didn’t think this through enough. In a dated shower the size of mine, things will be a little, well, snug. I’ve never really had to consider it, since I’ve never had anyone in here with me before. I definitely won’t have enough room to get on my knees and show him where my real talents lie.
Evan chuckles, studying it. “More of that forced proximity, I see. Just like the tent.”
Without another word, he lunges at me, lifting me up and wrapping my legs around his back, and pulls me into the stall. Our hard cocks slot together like cozy neighbors as I reach around him to spin the dial, turning the water on. Evan kisses the wind that’s forced out of me, when the water initially starts off chilled, and then my back is pressed against the wall.
I peel my lips away and rest my forehead against his. “Evan, I want to take care of you this time, too. Can I?”
He nods, his tongue darting out to moisten his lower lip. He hikes me up again, readjusting his grip under my thighs to support me better. “Your turn to use me now,” he grants me permission I’ve so desperately wanted.
My free hand—the one that’s not currently around the back of his neck, bracing myself up—wraps around both our cocks, and I give us both a lazy pull. He groans, and the intensity of his neck kissing amps up, until I’m sure he’s leaving marks.
“You have such soft hands,” he murmurs between kisses. “Feels good.”
That gets me to start stroking us in earnest now. His hips start rocking, our lengths slipping against each other as the water rains down over us. Frotting has got to be one of my favorite things. I dare say I enjoy it more than penetrative sex—which, I know,weird, right?
I don’t know what it is, but I just love that there’s no prep-work involved. You can just spontaneously feel horny and frot it right out. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate a collaboration involving penises, booties, and mouths too, but there’s just something so frickin’ sexy about the feeling of two dicks in your hand grinding against one another.
Sometimes, it’s just all you have time for, when you’re worried about getting caught with your ex. But we’re not thinking about he who shall not be named right now, we’re thinking about Evan. Evan, who wants to take the time to do this right. Evan, who has taught me that it’s okay to draw this out longer, and enjoy myself. Evan, who has prioritized me right from the get go.
I work my magic on both our slippery cocks—I squeeze and release at different intervals. I swirl my palm around our shafts, and whenever I see a bead of precum from either of us, I swipe my hand over top—adding a delightful twist that has Evan keening into me.
“Jesus, Brooks,” he moans, kneading his fingers into my asscheeks. “So fucking good, baby.”
There’s only so long that he can hold me up, and so when I feel his grip start to give way a bit, I start to pick up the speed a little. Evan’s hips buck, keeping pace with my stroking. His moans and groans pick up as well. “Mmph—baby, yes—oh fuck, just like that.”
My hand is now working at a furious pace. Gliding up and down both our fully engorged dicks. I’m rewarded by guttural groans and sighed, ‘Oh, fuck yes, fuck yesss’s.’
He steps forward, pressing my back against the cool wall again, hitching me back up higher, but his control is clearly faltering. He’s not alone. My own strokes are getting sloppier, and my pace isn’t matching his thrusting hips anymore. Under my heels, I can feel his glutes rippling and tightening.
“Fuh—Brooks,” he pants, “I-I’m gonna,ohmyfuck. Baby, I’m gonna come…”
“Do it,” I urge him. “Paint my chest.”
“Ughgawd,” he growls, “that’s so fuckin’ hot.”
I grin, giving our shafts one last good tug before I feel him go taut in my palm. His chubby cock starts pulsing alongside mine, andhot streams of his cum decorate my bare chest. He practically roars through his orgasm, his chest heaving as he empties himself all over me.
The sight of it launches me into my own orgasm, since I’d been so close to already tipping over the edge myself. I continue stroking as I work through my own release.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs in my neck, where his lips are, once again planted there as if it’s their docking station whenever he’s in need of a me recharge. “You’re goddamn perfect when you come, you know?”
I feel his lips form into a grin on the side of my throat. He kisses again, then chuckles. “I don’t even have to see your cheeks to know how pink they are. I can fuckin’feelthem.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ipromised myself I was going to woo Brooks, and so far, I think I’m making damn good on my progress. In the past week alone, I have sanded and re-weatherproofed the dock to make it safer for the kids; I managed to procure a new-ish canoe for the camp (thank you to whomever left it by the side of the road, free for the taking); and I think I finally put an end to our Noodles problem. I caught him on camera trying to sneak back, but this time with—what I think to be—that same baby raccoon from the start of the season.
I wouldn’t be surprised if ole’ Noodles was the baby's father, and he’s just showing him how to scrounge. Either way, I’m probably not doing it right by little Riley’s standards, but I managed to set up a place, near the hidey-hole where Sully and I go to smoke, to keep them fed. I didn’t have it in me to dispatch them for being too socialized. Noodles is kind of growing on me. The fact that he’s probably just a single father trying to make his way also tugs at my heartstrings a little.
Admittedly, I’ve never been much of an animal guy, but I am kind of fond of the wiley, curmudgeonly raccoon. Maybe we’re kindred spirits. I also appear to not be allergic to Noodles, the same way I am with Brooks’ cat. Snarf, ha. What a name.
Anyway, pretty sure Snarf likes his new cat tree I got him. Over the past week, I’ve occasionally slept up at Brooks’—honestly just getting to know one another better and not just ‘researching’—and it’s like the fucking cat justknowshe’s giving me hives. He acts like we’re best buds or something, all up in my face with his fluffy tail. I got him the tree as a peace offering, which I’m glad he accepted.
