“Cody, sweetheart, warn a man before you—Jesus fucking Christ!”
He keeps working me over, bringing his hands up to fondle my balls before his fingers tease at my crack and at my hole. He makes no attempt to press inside, but just the tease is enough to have me teetering on the edge of release. How can I not be close, when it’s been a while since I last had sex, and this perfect, enthusiastic, gorgeous young man is doing everything in his power to make me come?
I try to resist the urge to fuck upward into his mouth, struggling to remember that this is his first time.
It’s the sounds that do me in, though. The slurping, sucking, moaning and mild gagging…it’s the soundtrack to my personal version of heaven. And when he moans again and I risk a glance down the length of my body, that’s it. I’m done.
His eyes are wide and wet, his cheeks pink and hollowed, and his hair tangled around my fingers. His lips are puffy and stretched wide around my shaft, and a trail of saliva is leaking from the corner of his mouth and dribbling down his chin.
“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come,” I warn him, slamming my eyes shut again, as though that’s going to do anything to prevent my release now.
The image of him is burned into my retinas, playing on the backs of my eyelids as he sucks harder, moaning even louder than before.
“I’m—oh God, Cody—I’m coming, I—” My words are choked off as I explode down his throat, white spots now replacing the images playing behind my shut eyelids. I think I cry out as I come, but the sheer bliss of the moment overrides all my other senses until I’m nothing but a boneless, panting heap on my designer couch.
Cracking my eyes open, I watch in a daze as Cody sits back on his heels and runs his thumb over the seam of his lips, scoopingup overspill and then sucking it off his own skin. “Mmm,” he hums to himself, and I swear I could come again at just that.
In this moment, I’m struck by a pang of regret that I’m not in my twenties anymore, and my refractory period isn’t what it used to be. But then Cody bites his swollen lower lip, worrying it between his rows of pearly white teeth before offering me an unsure little smile.
“Was that okay?”
“Was that…?” I begin incredulously, before shaking my head at how absolutely ludicrous the question is as I tuck myself back into my pants. “Sweetheart, did you miss the part where I came so hard, I lost all my brain cells for a minute?”
He laughs. “Now you’re exaggerating. It can’t have been that good. I’m uncoordinated, and I’ve never—why are you laughing at me?”
He sounds so defensive and unsure, but I can’t help chuckling. Extending my hand toward him, I encourage, “C’mere.” He takes my hand and I tug him onto the couch, pulling him to my side. I press an uncharacteristically tender kiss to the top of his head and explain, “I honestly thought that you knew exactly what you were doing. You can be a virgin and still have given and received blow jobs before.”
He shakes his head and slumps against me, curling into my hug. “I’ve never gone past kissing before. Not even frotting. It just…never happened for me. Tonight was a world of firsts.”
“Wow.” It’s mind-boggling to hear the confession. Objectively (well, as objectively as I can be for someone who just had the best orgasm I’ve had in…God, years, if I’m being honest), he’s a cute guy with an incredible amount of innate sex appeal. “How does that even happen?”
He shrugs and tucks his head under my chin. “It just never happened,” he repeats, then sighs. “Like, I was a loser in high school, and the only one out. Then in college…I tried dating, butI didn’tclickwith anyone, and I didn’t want to have sex just for sex’s sake. I wanted a spark. Some kind of connection.” His back stiffens. “Not that…not that this…I mean, I know we’re just…whatever we are.”
“Friends,” I assure him, rubbing his back and trying to ignore how the word tastes funny on my tongue. Wrong, somehow. “We’re friends. And you know that there are heaps of guys out there who only enjoy sex with an emotional connection, right?”
“I just…I feel like I need to bond with someone first, y’know?”
“I know. And that’s—”
“You don’t think it’s weird that I have, like, zero sex drive around hot guys?”
“No.” I’m firm on that, starting to understand his position with a bit more clarity. “You said it yourself: you’re attracted to more than just the outside package. You want to feel connected first and thenthatmakes you more attracted to people.”
He seems to burrow into my chest, and I can’t quite make out his mumbled reply to my words.
“Honey, I’m getting old. My hearing isn’t what it used to be. Gonna need you to repeat that.”
I feel Cody’s head turn so his lips are no longer mushed into my collarbone. “I said,” he begins, then falters.
“You said?”
“The last guy I went out with —the one before Scott— he said I was thinking like a woman.”
I bristle. “No, you’re thinking like a demisexual gay man, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Yeah, well, you’re the first guy to say that.” There’s a brief pause before he says, “And you’re the first guy I’ve blown, or frotted with, so…”
“I’m going to stop you there.” Despite enjoying the feel of him snuggled up against me, I want to look him in the eye. I gently push him back and hold him at arm’s length. “Look atme, sweetheart.” He does, however reluctantly. I smile. “There’s no correlation between what we just did and my firm belief that your sexuality is perfectly normal. Even without orgasms, I would have told you the same thing. No matter how you label yourself, there’s nothing wrong with only being sexually interested in someone you feel some kind of emotional bond with.”
