I snort. My parents would be fucking pissed, and I consider that agoodthing. Mom always told me that no woman would ever be good enough for her pure, precious son, but the joke’s on her since I’m exploiting the hell out of the gay loophole.
Not that Ineeda loophole in the first place.
I banish all thoughts of my parents from my brain. I'm not trying to kill my boner.
Ian turns the water off after a few minutes, so I make my way to the bedroom and slip under the covers to wait. The bathroomdoor opens, there are footsteps in the hallway, and then he strides in, his hair damp and a towel fastened above his waist.
There’s no way I’ll ever get tired of seeing him without a shirt. His compact body with all its sport-toned muscles, covered with smooth, tanned skin, keeps my attention like nothing else. He lets out a quiet snort, and I lift my eyes to his face, taking in his smile and realizing that I’m wearing one myself, too.
“Such a horndog, this one,” he teases, and I don’t miss the predictable appearance of a firm, growing lump underneath the towel.
“Come here. Let's cuddle for a bit,” I say, doing my best to ignore the pressure in my balls.
“Sounds wholesome.” Ian drops the towel and joins me in his bed.
This time, I decide to change things up by wrapping my arms around him instead. He nuzzles into me, pressing his firm ass into my crotch and making me hiss out a cuss.
“You’re making it a little hard to be wholesome,” I mutter.
“That’s kind of the point. I’ve been craving you ever since I left this morning.”
We both chuckle, and I draw in a deep breath behind Ian’s neck. If not being wholesome is the point, I can get behind that.
I clasp his erection and give it a slow stroke.
“Callum,” he says, his voice deep and husky. “What are you?—”
“Shh. Let me do this.”
Ian pulses in my hand as soon as I shush him, and I squeeze the tip of his dick. I dig my fingers into the underside of his shaft, which is enough to make him squirm. The movement knocks my hand away, so I slide my other arm under his neck and wrap around his chest to hold him in place.
“Try to make this easier for me,” I tease.
Ian nods, and I resume my slow strokes, pressing his warm body into mine as his breaths grow deeper.
“Fuck, Callum.” He hums a low, satisfied noise. “You’reamazing.”
I’m already warm from his body heat and the sheer intensity of what I’m doing to him, and his flattery ramps it up even more. My hard-on jumps against his ass, and he lets out a surprised huff.
“Wait, do you have a praise kink?” Ian asks.
I stop stroking. “A what?”
He groans, not answering me. “Keep going, Callum. You’re doing so well.”
Feeling bolder, I slide my free hand down to tug on his balls, and he yelps out a desperate “fuck yes” when I resume stroking.
“You’re so good at this,” he pants. “Please don’t stop.”
As soon as he says that, I get harder, pressing into Ian’s leg.
He chuckles. “Oh yeah, youdohave a thing for compliments.”
Heat floods my cheeks. This is a consideration for when I don’t have a quivering, horned-up guy in my arms.
I speed up, gliding the skin up and down Ian’s dick, relishing the sounds of his breaths getting heavier and raspier. He leaks generously into my hand, and unable to help myself, I bend my head down to sink my teeth into his shoulder blades. The way he moans when I do that is downright addictive, and for a second, I wonder if that by itself is enough to make me come.
He clenches his muscles, snapping my attention back to him, and thrusts up into my hand. “I’m close. Cal, I’m gonna—” His voice breaks on a gasp. “I’m gonna come.”
