“The only answer I’m interested in is the truest one. I gave you a yes or no question, but humans are complex systems of wants and needs, and I know that.”
That’s true. Trent is wonderfully empathetic when it comes to my experience and awkwardness.
“I’m content cuddling as long as you are. If you want to get up, I don’t mind. I’m warm, and I like being warm. I can’t remember the last time I got an extensive cuddle from anyone, and the intimacy of it is nice, but I am naked and I don’t want that to negatively impact our friendship. So, I guess whatever you want is what I want, because I value our relationship.”
Trent squeezes me in a hug, which brings my attention to the fact that his arm is under the pillow we’re sharing, cradling my head. “How about we cuddle until we’re awake enough to get the day started? I like to doze for fifteen minutes before getting up.”
Tension I didn’t even realize I had suddenly leaves my body. I like knowing the limits and parameters. “That sounds nice,” I agree, scooting back just a tiny bit to increase the cuddle contact.
Trent’s hand moves down to below my waistline and he pulls me in tight, which gives me a very clear mental picture of where the flagpole in his pants is most comfortable when it’s not in use, so to speak. Having his erection nestled in my intergluteal cleft causes a chaotic mess of arousal, confusion, and worry in my mind and body.
I was dealing with a morning chub because it’s morning and I’m barely a fully realized adult, but now I have a full mast hard-on, and if Trent’s hand—which is still resting just above my hairline (the lower one)—so much as twitches in a southerly direction, I will shoot off like a rocket. I’m supposed to be saving my orgasm for a shower handy, and it would be incredibly embarrassing to go off without anything touching my dick. I’m not sure how Trent would react to knowing I came because he cuddled me a little too closely. That would probably stop himfrom doing it again, and if I want anything right now, it’s this physical intimacy.
“I think I might be touch-starved,” I say aloud when I realize why I’m overly eager about this cuddle session.
Trent gives the thought a moment to digest before his arms tighten around me and the lazy cuddle becomes an aggressive cuddle. “That’s probably true for most college students.”
“Maybe we should make an intentional effort to cuddle regularly. Not just shoulder to shoulder like we do on movie night?” Would that help? I don’t know, but my brain wants it, and I live by the philosophy that our instincts exist for a reason and trusting them is generally a good idea.
“I’m down for that. I don’t think we get enough skinship as humans in general, and it’s important to have that kind of close connection with the people that matter to us.” He kisses the crown of my head and somehow that helps me relax. If Trent isn’t bothered by his erection, I doubt he’s going to be bothered by mine, especially if he thinks cuddling is as good an idea as I do.
“I just want to be clear that I have your consent to cuddle you? Do you have limits I should be aware of? Like, do you want to keep it to private moments or are you ok if I increase contact in public too?” Consent matters to Trent, and he usually only focuses on the consent of the people around him, but I’m not going to assume he doesn’t have limits, too.
“I think as long as we can’t get arrested for it, I’m ok with PDA with you. I wouldn’t be ok with that with anyone else, so don’t invite some other friend to join you.”
I snort at that. I don’t have any friends that would do that, and even if I did, I wouldn’t let them. Trent is—well, he’s something that I feel very possessive about. “I promise I won’t let anyone treat you the way I’m going to,” I swear as I swallow down the part of me that wants to tell him no one else is allowedto engage him like I do. I’m the best friend. Me. I have privileges that no one else has or should have. It would cheapen our relationship if I had to share benefits with other people.
Maybe I should make an appointment with my therapist; it seems I might be harboring some insecurity about Trent that’s manifesting as jealousy. I might need to talk this out with a professional.
Trent chuckles softly and rubs my belly affectionately. “The way you’re going to? Exactly how much PDA do you expect to need?”
Before his belly rubs can turn into an embarrassing incident, I flip around and launch myself at his chest, rolling him onto his back and landing with my face buried in his slightly hairy chest. My erection presses into his thigh, and his erection is poking my hip, but I distract us both with a strong hug. “So much. I’m going to be all over you. Every time I see you: cling-on Magnus. I’ll be like Velcro. No, worse, like cleavers—you’re going to have a hell of a time getting me off you.”
He huffs a laugh, bouncing me on his chest. “Cleavers? What is that?”
“That Velcro plant that sticks to you. It’s called Galium aparine, but common names are cleavers, catchweed bedstraw, silly willy, sticky weed… It seems like there's a name for it in every region that deals with it.” I’m not into botany, but sometimes I enjoy a good hike, and what’s a little nature without a google search or two?
“I see. You’re going to be as annoyingly clingy as that weed. Thank you for the warning,” he deadpans.
“You’re welcome,” I sass back.
After a little laugh, he lifts his hips, pressing his steel into my hip. “Shower?”
A strange dip of arousal hollows out my stomach, and I reflexively mirror his actions, pressing my cock into his thigh and moaning when it feels so damn good.
Trent squeezes me where his hands touch my skin, and I remember too late that I’m still naked. “I’ll take that as an enthusiastic yes.”
I nod as my entire body flushes with a complicated mix of shame and lust.
Trent pats my bare ass and squeezes it just like he did for our photoshoot. “Go start the shower. I’ll grab our toiletries.”
His command sends a shiver of anticipation through me, and I forget to be embarrassed about my nudity, rolling off him and out of bed. I speed-walk to the bathroom and start the walk-in shower before taking care of my business with the commode. As I’m brushing my teeth, Trent walks in, gloriously nude, and smacks my butt on the way to put our things in the shower and take his turn with the toilet.
I keep my eyes on myself in the mirror while he’s peeing, then bend to spit and swish as he grabs his toothbrush. While he’s brushing, I set up the camera in the shower stall and make sure that the camera lens isn’t steaming up. I bought several cameras, and this one is an action camera that’s intended for use in wet environments. Since this is the first time we’re using it for its intended purpose, I’m a little worried that the video quality won’t be as good as what we usually post.
Trent joins me as I’m deciding it’s as good as it’s going to get, but when he moves to close the glass door, I stop him with a hand. “Leave it open so the steam escapes. I’m not sure how the camera will do in a steamy shower, but I’d rather err on the side of caution.”
Trent dips his chin and his camera smirk appears on his lips. I like all his smiles, but the one he gets when we’re filming is wickedly delightful. Somehow it cranks him up from a ten, and Ithink I’ve been Pavloved by it because as soon as I see it, my cock starts plumping up. He’s so damn sexy when he’s trying.
