8
Ryan
Russell and I did something that we very rarely did: slept in. He could say it was from the hike yesterday, but I liked to say it was from all the fucking yesterday evening and last night. As soon as we got to the hotel after the hike, he fucked me. Then he fucked me shortly after we went to bed. Somewhere around five a.m. he fucked me again. After that we both dozed off. I had woken up close to seven thirty, and Russell was still asleep with his arm draped over me with his hand resting on my stomach.
I let him sleep. He was obviously tired and had been doing a lot of the driving … and fucking. I put my hand on top of his and closed my eyes to rest them. My eyes popped back open, and I stared at the clock on the nightstand; it said nine fifty.
Whoa.
We slept in. I opened my mouth to say something, but instead I rolled over to face Russell. If I remembered the itinerary right, today’s drive would only be about four hours. Maybe he had woken up a few times too, saw that I was asleep, and decided to let me sleep. Sleeping in would be good for us if we were both this tired, plus the drive wasn’t going to be that long today.
I reached under the sheet and took hold of his dick. He was semi-hard, and I playfully tugged on it some while watching his face. Russell stretched, and a smile appeared on his face.
“That’s a good way to get fucked,” he murmured in his deep, tired voice.
I shrugged my left shoulder and rolled my eyes at him. As if his threat of me getting fucked would do anything to stop me.
“I like pulling on your chain.”
“Last time I checked, I was the one with the chain fetish.”
“I think your fetish might have spilled over to me.” When my hand reached the head, I formed a tight circle with my thumb and index finger. I knew this would drive him wild. He sucked in a deep breath of air, proving that he was loving this. “Oh, wait, doesn’t look like you have any chains on this trip, though,” I teased.
“Ryan, Ryan, Ryan,” he laughed.
“What?”
“You underestimate what I might have in the back of the SUV.”
My mind pictured me kneeling under the arch from yesterday, with one of those chain harnesses he makes. I released his head and went back to stroking him more firmly this time.
“Ooh! Right there, Ryan,” Russell hissed.
He was flat on his back with his hands clasped behind his head while I pumped his dick with my hand. Russell had no shame or qualms about audibly grunting out his release. The few times we fucked in the hotel room I had remained as quiet as possible when I came. Not Russell, though.
I stared at his cum on his stomach. There were a few globs close together and then a thicker mass near the head of his dick. For a brief, fleeting moment, I thought about wrapping my mouth around the head to clean it up. Instead, I lightly pressed two of my fingers against his skin covered with cum. I dragged my fingers through it, making cum trails on places that had been untouched by his release. Russell usually did this to me, and I know he was trying to make me feel comfortable covered in cum. Usually it worked, and I felt pretty good about it. For whatever reason, I flattened my palm against his skin and spread it around, as if I were doing the same for him that he did for me.
Why was I doing this to him, though? Clearly, he’d never had an issue with the feeling of cum on his body. I was the fucked-up one with issues like that.
I quickly tried to pull my hand away, but he took hold of my wrist, which caused me to look him in the eyes. He was so fucking calm all the time. I felt like I needed to say something.
“Sorry,” quickly tumbled out. The moment I said it, I regretted it. The apology.
“Ryan, why are you apologizing?”
I glanced down at the few glistening cum streaks on his stomach.
“I just … I was doing what you do with my cum. You know? You rub it on my skin to try to make me feel better about it. Not that you need that at all. I know you don’t, and I know you feel comfortable with it and everything.” I swallowed hard as I really tried to come up with a reason as to why I had done that. “You’re good with cum. So I was apologizing for making a mess on you and finger painting your stomach with your cum. I’m sorry,” I replied without moving my eyes from his stomach.
“Relax, Ryan.”
Russell guided my wrist back toward his stomach. He set my palm on one of the damp streaks and covered my hand with his.
“I don’t mind, Ryan. I could lie here and watch you all day do whatever you need to in order to feel comfortable.”
When I risked a peek at him, I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was hedging on the concerned side. I lowered my eyes to his stomach again and felt my pulse racing. With what he said, I feared this would head toward a serious or emotional conversation. Russell was more than good to me. He was patient. I was very lucky to have him. But I didn’t want or need to get into a conversation about why I had these little issues in the first place. And while he didn’t remind me or vocalize why I was like this, I knew he thought about it. Which was enough to aggravate me.
Russell sat up, forcing my eyes to his chest. Still holding my hand against his stomach, he wrapped his other hand around the back of my head. Leaning toward me, he kissed me on the lips. The kiss gave me an opportunity to hide, even for a moment or two. His hand moved from the back of my head down to my neck before he rested his forehead against mine.
