I look up at Ethan. He’s watching me, his blond hair framing his face, and his lock-chain necklace dangling above me, and I can’t believe how good he feels. I tell him so, running a hand up his stomach to his chest. His face is different now, his eyes. The connection between us is undeniable. And it converges where my body joins his.
There’s all kinds of things I want to say to him, and I should because we’re not promised tomorrow. But the words, the emotions, don’t want to come out.
Instead, I grab his dick and twist my hand around it and watch his face flush a deep red. He’d get like this after making out sometimes, flushed and breathless. He’d want more, and I would too, but I was chicken shit back then.
I’m not anymore.
I sit up, sliding my hands up Ethan’s back, and turn us so he’s underneath me. His eyes flutter closed. His head tilts back into the pillow.
He whispers, “Fuck you, Shane.”
I drive into him again. And again. And again.
“Fuck you, Shane.” He wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer and closer. “Fuck you.”
I fuck him as if it’s the last time I’ll ever get to again.
It would have been preferable if we’d both come at the same time, but we don’t.
The condom has desensitized me a little bit, but Ethan’s cock is bare, and it’s caught in between our bodies, in between the friction and the heat, so that his cum pools in between us and his chest rumbles with a deep groan. I thrust a couple more timesbefore I fill up the condom. I might have stopped breathing because there’s spots before my eyes after, and my entire body shudders one more time before I pull out.
He’s still got his arms around me, and I rest my head on his shoulder.
It’s a long time before either of us move.
Smoke curls into the air as I lazily watch Ethan smoke a cigarette.
I see what looks like a tattoo of an ankh a few inches below his left nipple. It’s the first time I’ve noticed it, and why? Maybe it’s because it’s small. Or because patches of dark hair curl around it, and around his navel, and trail down to his spent dick.
I reach for the cigarette and take a drag. He watches me. He says, “Do you love Gina?”
I cough a little bit as I exhale. “Not in that way.” I hand the cigarette back to him. “Do you love your boyfriend?”
He blinks. “I lied.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry.” He looks over at me, sheepishly.
I get up off the bed and go looking for the disposable camera. I lay down beside him and line up my shot. He turns away from me to stub his cigarette out in the ashtray. “You won’t be able to get those developed. They’ll say it’s porn or something.”
“Then I’ll develop them myself.” I take a picture as soon as he turns back around. I snap another one as he gets up on his hands and knees and crawls over to me. I take another one as he positions himself overtop of me. I get in one more as he takes the camera from me and sets it on the bedside table.
He stares down at me, still on his hands and knees. I run a hand down his chest over to the ankh. “How long have you had this?”
“Maybe a year.”
“Did it hurt?”
“No.”
I reach my head up to kiss it. It surprises him. I feel his body tense.
Then I kiss the base of his throat. Then his chin. Then his lips. I feel his right palm rest against the right side of my chest. I put my hand over his and his lips pull away from mine.
“How long have you had that?” he asks.
“About five years.”
