“Well, there’s your first mistake.”
“I thought you were nice.” he said with a pout I couldn’t take seriously because of how cute it was.
“I am nice. Nice enough to grant you proof you’re not dreaming.”
“Yeah, nice guy,” Oliver said. “You want to tell me how this came about?”
“That training session a few weeks ago. It sorta knocked me sideways. Made me look at things from a different point of view.”
“You mean when I got hard?”
“Yeah,” I said, carding my fingers through his hair, because how could I not? The strands, all shiny and smooth, were made to be touched. “That moment flipped everything. You walked away while I performed full NASCAR donuts in my brain. I couldn’t stop thinking about you or that sound you made. The one you tried to swallow? It just set up camp in my brain. I kept replaying it and thinking, ‘Wow, I wanna hear him do that again because of me.’”
“To confirm, my embarrassing horny noise basically rebooted your whole operating system?”
“More like it installed a software update I didn’t know I needed. My system runs on emotional-connection-first OS, not FlirtySexMan 2.0. Attraction stuff gets filed in the wrong folders. I had everything about you saved under ‘Friendship & Support’ instead of the ‘Bro, You’re Into Him’ folder. Your little pop-up alert forced a reboot and the screen came back like, ‘Surprise! You have feelings, idiot.’ Then the sexy stuff showed up knockin’ on the door like, ‘Hello, we’d like to participate in this emotional epiphany please.’”
“And here I was terrified I’d crashed our system and ruined everything. But you’re saying my little ‘alert’ unlocked the ‘us’ feature I’ve been trying to run this whole time?”
“Yep. Looks like we both owe a debt of gratitude to your wayward dick. Perhaps a card is in order.”
“A card?”
“Yes, a thank you card in acknowledgment of its service in bringing us together. Dear Oliver’s dick...” I mimed writing in the air. “Thank you for your unexpected but apparently mission-critical cameo during that fateful training session. Your surprise activation served as a much-needed notification to my brain that the feelings I had about your owner were not, in fact, ‘bro appreciation’ or ‘wow, my friend is neat,’ but the other kind. The kind with heart sparkles and longing and this need to hold him for hours upon hours. PS, my bad for ignoring your earlier attempts at communication. The memo finally reached the upstairs department. I promise to respond to future notifications with more self-awareness and less confusion. Yours in appreciation, Luke.”
“I don’t know whether to be embarrassed or touched you’re composing heartfelt letters to my dick.”
“The rule I live by is that when faced with two options, you should always go with the kinder, more generous interpretation. So, touched. You are unequivocally touched.”
“I think what I am right now is in need of a shower. Said dick is protesting the dried cum situation with increasing hostility. I’m being shellacked. If we wait any longer, we’ll have to peel off my underwear like a fruit-rollup paper.”
“Mm, yes, fruit-rollup dick, can’t have that. I suppose it’s my civic duty to relieve you of your hardships.”
“So this is charity now?” he asked, kissing the corner of my grin. “A noble act of community service?”
“Absolutely. You’re looking at a public servant of the highest caliber.”
“How selfless of you,” he said, the words fracturing as my fingertips skimmed down his torso, tracing the ridges of his stomach. I smiled into the hollow of his neck, savoring the flutter of his pulse.
“So selfless,” I agreed. Taking his hand, I led him to my master bath. Inside, I turned to face him again, took his face in both hands, and leaned in to press a slow kiss to his lips. “Let me,” I said, toying at the waistband of his pants.
“Yes.”
Leaving a string of kisses along his torso as I went, I sank to my knees, pulling down his sweats and guiding them to the floor. He stepped out, one foot and then the other, his legs trembling with anticipation.
I peeled down the final layer. His cock sprang free, flushed and full, with an elegant curve in its shape. I wanted it in my mouth. An unexpected but not unpleasant thought. My desire often packed up the moment the emotional high settled, like thanks for the warm feelings, I’m clocking out now. But tonight, it stayed, and I wanted to follow this new thread of desire wherever it led. I wanted more of this closeness, more of him softening in my hands, more of the trust shining in his eyes when he said my name.
“So beautiful,” I murmured, taking the silky skin in my hand and giving a single slow stroke before leaning forward and tracing a tentative lick across the head.
Oliver’s breath hitched, his fingers burying into my hair. “Hey, hey, yellow light.”
Leaning back, I tilted my head to meet his eyes. “What’s up, angel?”
“I want this. God, I do. But before we go further, I need to know that you want this too. That you’re not doing this to appease me. I don’t ever want you doing things because you think it’s what I expect. So, is this something you want, right now in this moment?”
There were times in my past I had straight-up pushed myself into sex I didn’t want. I’d hit myself with that whole “relationships require compromise” speech. I’d think, “Well, it’snot fair they don’t get their needs met just because I’m not in the mood,” and then I’d force myself through it. And afterward I’d feel awful. Empty. Gross. Mad at them, mad at me, mad at the entire situation. After doing that way more times than I was proud of, I made myself a promise. Never again. Not for anyone.
Which is why Oliver stopping to ask if I truly wanted this hit me like a truck full of feelings. He actually understood that my desire wasn’t some switch that once on stayed that way. He saw me and respected the way I was wired. And that hit deeper than any sexy moment ever could. It made me feel safe and respected. And that made me want him even more.
