The words seem to do something to him. He moans around me, the vibration shooting through my body, and my hips twitch again, barely restrained. Every noise he makes—the little whimpers, the shaky breaths—pushes me closer to the edge. I can’t take my eyes off him, and I need to see those eyes look at me, too.
“Blue, look at me,” I manage. When he does—eyes wide and wet, mouth full of my cock—my vision blurs at the edges. “Fuck! Stop—stop—I’m gonna—”
He pulls off quickly, licking his lips, eyes shining with nerves and pride. “I don’t know if I want to swallow yet. Is that okay?”
My heart aches, full to bursting at how careful he’s being with his own boundaries, how brave he is for trying this at all. I nod quickly, grabbing his face in both hands and dragging him up for a kiss, not caring about anything except the taste of him, the feel of his mouth on mine, the knowledge that this boy chose me to show himself to.
“Of course it’s okay. Never do anything you’re not ready for, Blue, you hear me? You made me feel fucking amazing. You don’t have to prove anything.You’reeverything. Shit—just stay here. Stay with me.”
He smiles, shy and proud and a little relieved, and I pull him up into my lap, kissing him deep and slow, tasting myself on his tongue, grateful in a way I can barely put into words.
I pull back, forehead resting against his for a second while my pulse roars in my ears. I’m right on the edge, wrecked from his mouth, and I know if I don’t slow this down, I’m going to lose it in a way that’ll scare him.
“Hey,” I murmur, brushing my nose against his. “I wanna try something with you. Nothing crazy. Just… something I think you’ll like. You okay with that?”
He nods immediately. “Yeah,” he says softly. “I trust you.”
That does something dangerous to me. I kiss him once more, then ease him back onto the bed so I can reach over to my nightstand and open the drawer. My fingers find the familiar bottle without even looking. When I turn back, he’s watching me, brows pulled together in curiosity.
“What’s that?” he asks.
“Lube,” I say honestly, no teasing, no pressure. “Makes things smoother. Less overwhelming. We’ll go slow, and if at any point you want to stop, you say the word, alright?”
He swallows, then nods again, cheeks pink. “Okay.”
I set the bottle aside and reach for the waistband of his jockstrap, pausing there, giving him another out even though every nerve in my body is screaming to keep going. “Can I take this off?” I ask quietly.
“Yes,” he says, a little breathless. “You can.”
I peel it down slowly, careful not to overstimulate him, guiding the fabric down his thighs and setting it aside. He’s hard and flushed and beautiful, that massive cock heavy against hisstomach, and the sight nearly knocks the breath from my lungs. I don’t touch him yet. I just look, letting him see the appreciation on my face.
“Goddamn,” I mutter. “Still can’t get over how beautiful you are.”
He squirms a little, embarrassed but clearly proud too, and that mix just kills me. I climb back onto the bed and tug him closer.
“Get on top of me,” I say softly, guiding him gently until he’s straddling my thighs instead of kneeling between them.
He settles there, hands braced on my chest, eyes flicking down between us and then back up to my face. He looks nervous again, but not scared, and I make sure he can see how steady I am.
“Watch me,” I tell him, flipping the cap on the bottle and squeezing a little lube into my palm. I spread it slowly, letting him see every movement so nothing surprises him. Then I reach down and slick myself up first, slow strokes that make me hiss through my teeth.
His eyes widen. “Oh.”
I chuckle under my breath. “Yeah. Same reaction every time.”
I add a little more to my hand and then bring it up between us, holding it out so he can see. “I’m gonna touch you now,” I say. “Just tell me if it’s too much.”
“Okay,” he whispers.
I wrap my hand around him gently, spreading the slick heat along his length, and he gasps, back arching instinctively. I slow immediately, thumb brushing soothing circles at his hip. “Easy. Breathe. You’re good.”
He nods, eyes fluttering closed for a second. “It’s okay. It just feels… really good.”
“That’s the goal,” I murmur, smiling. I start moving again, slow, steady strokes, watching his face instead of his cock, tracking every reaction so I don’t miss anything.
I wrap one slicked hand around both our cocks, pressing them together. He moans, hips rocking instinctively, the heat of him burning against me, the lube making everything so fucking slick.
“Hands on my chest,” I pant, biting my lip as I jerk us faster. “Ride it with me. Fuck my fist, Babygirl.”
