Keaton broke away from my lips, panting for breath. “Ol,” he said. My heart jumped in my chest at the use of my new nickname. No one had ever called me that before. “Are you sure about this?”
His dedication to making sure I was alright was adorable. I rolled my hips slightly, grinding our lengths together. He shuddered, his eyes half-closing. “What do you think?” I asked.
“I don’t think much at all,” Keaton replied, his voice dazed. He lowered his head and kissed me again, shooting stars and fireworks behind my closed eyes. All I wanted was this moment, me and him, for the rest of all time.
But it wasn’t enough.
It still wasn’t enough.
I broke the kiss this time. I pulled Keaton back by his hips, just a little. Just enough space for a hand between us. I reached down. I was only wearing track pants, loose and easy for my visit with the physio. He was buttoned up in skinny jeans. I popped the button and his zipper. I looked up at his face. He had a fascinated expression like he wasn’t quite sure what I was going to do.
I wanted him to lose any doubt. I wanted him to know that I was serious. Not just about getting off myself.
I dipped my hand into the waistband of the green underwear I had revealed, finding his hard, hot dick.
Keaton gasped out loud and dropped his head. I squeezed him, using my other hand to liberate him from his clothing. His dick pulsed in my hand as I began to work up and down his shaft. It wasn’t like I didn’t know what felt good. When I first got with a girl I remembered how mysterious it all seemed. How I spent the whole time trying to work it out. Like building Scandinavian furniture without the manual. I couldn’t work out how A was supposed to slot into B or what the hell I was supposed to do with C.
But with Keaton, it was simple. I just had to do it the way I knew felt good for me.
“Fuck,” he panted. “Olly.”
“Ol,” I corrected him stubbornly with a tighter squeeze.
He gasped, his eyes closing. “Ol,” he agreed. “Oh, fuck.”
I watched him as his face transformed with pleasure. Sensations rolled over him and I could read them all in his expression. He wasn’t hiding anything or holding it back. He wasn’t afraid.
God. I wanted to do everything for him. He was so brave. I wanted to give him everything to feel so he could wear it on his sleeve.
I wanted to be as brave as he was.
“Keat,” I murmured, nuzzling into his neck as I stroked him slow at first, gradually faster. I looked down again at his dick in my hand. It looked right. How had I not known that it would look right? That I would admire it – think it was handsome? That the sight of it would send tingles through the whole of my body and make me ache to touch it?
“We can -” Keaton started, but he groaned and threw his head back. “Ahh, Ol. Just. Here.”
He reached down and knocked my hand out of the way. Disappointment coursed through me. Had I not done it right? Had I left him wanting?
But he grabbed my waistband savagely and pulled it out of the way. My own dick sprang free, bobbing with the speed of it. Keaton shifted his hips forward again and suddenly we were there – together – pressed against one another. Even the heat of him, the feel of him against me had my dick twitching.
Then he grabbed both of us in one hand and I knew I was done for.
“Oh, god,” I muttered. I dropped my hands to the bed, bracing myself. I needed the support. “Oh, fuck. Keat.”
The friction and heat were intense – incredible. I gritted my teeth and moaned low. I didn’t want this to be over too soon, but it was almost impossible to hold on. I wanted this to last forever.
I didn’t know if Keaton would ever want to do this with me again. If he would change his mind. I needed to make it last.
“Oh, god,” Keaton moaned, his head going back and then snapping down again so he could watch himself jerk us both off. His hand was perfect. There was slickness between us leaking from both of our tips. I felt so hot – feverish. I needed air. I reached down and hooked my shirt up over my head, discarding it on the bed.
Keaton reached out and touched my abs. I looked up at his face. He looked like he was dreaming. His hand slowed on both of our dicks as he touched me. I took over, nudging his hand out of the way. I’d seen how he did it and it was easy to replicate. I started slow and quickly sped up to match the speed and rhythm he had established.
Keaton’s hands both wandered over my body, tracing over my pecs and abs again and again. His fingers ran up to squeeze my biceps, glorying in them. I looked into his eyes and saw how he enjoyed my body. It was something I had never experienced before. In the past, when I looked at a girl’s face and saw her drooling over me I felt disgusted. Like I was just a piece of meat. But Keaton…
Keaton made me feel like a god.
“Oh, god, Keat,” I muttered. There was no way I was going to hold on much longer.
“F-fuck,” he replied and spurted over my hand.
