“I’m a particularly stupid layman too, so you must be on the money.”
“You’re not stupid.”
We’re quiet for a moment. He takes a deep breath before he starts typing again.
“How close to finishing are you?”
“The paper?”
When he laughs, it vibrates deliciously through my cock.
“Yes, the paper.”
“I’m about ninety-percent done.”
“Would it be too distracting if I rubbed your back?”
He tries to wriggle again and I hold him in place. “I can only do it if you promise to stay still.”
“I’ll stay still. I’ll be good. I promise.”
I fail to keep in the satisfied groan before it escapes me.
“Good.”
I keep one hand clamped on his waist while the other greedily roams his back. He rolls his neck but keeps typing.
“Oh, God,” he whispers.
“Keep working.”
He starts grinding and clenching as he types out the last few lines. This time, I let him.
“Do you need to edit it too?”
God, please say no!
“Not right now. I can do that in the morning before I hand it in.”
“Good.”
I watch his feet as he comes up onto his toes and pushes back. He types ‘the end’ into thedocument.
“Are you supposed to be writing ‘the end’ on an academic paper?”
“No, it just felt satisfying to do it now. I’ll delete it when I edit.”
He pushes the laptop to the back of the desk and leans back with a sigh.
“Take this off,” I tug at his polo and he pulls it over his head. Finally, I have unrestrained access to his chest. I let my hands roam greedily as Ben wriggles and grinds in my lap.
He hums, rolling his head. Sweat beads his hairline. Has he been sweating like that the entire time?
When I slide my hand down his stomach and grip the base of his cock, he gasps before letting it go on a drawn-out moan.
I can’t get enough of his neck now I’m allowed to do whatever want. I nip him, suck on that delicious spot between his shoulder and the base of his neck.
I stroke him, smearing precum down his shaft, feeling his whole body buck and stiffen.
