“Be a good boy and hold off for me.” I keep stroking him, don’t ease up on him as I use his body to work everything out of my balls. He’s practically gasping now, his body tense, like it’s killing him not to come.
I pull out of him, turn him around, trying to help keep him steady as his legs seem weak and he still has the spreader bar on. Bending down, I push two fingers into his ass again. “Come in my mouth,” I tell him before sucking him deep. It takes just a few pulls of my mouth and a few deep pushes into his ass before he’s coming, hot, salty jerks of jizz coating my tongue. I don’t swallow him down, just let him fill my mouth with his load, before I’m on my feet again, kissing him, pushing my tongue into his mouth and feeding James his release.
“I can’t…” he says when I pull away.
“Sit down.” I help him onto the bed, take off the spreader bar, then lay him down. “I’ll be right back.” I know he doesn’t like a mess, so I get rid of the condom, wipe myself down, then wet another cloth. He’s on his back, watching me, his body stiff like he’s getting into his head again already.
“Let me take care of you,” I tell him.
“You don’t have to. You can go.” He shifts.
“Do you want me to go?” I ask, but James doesn’t respond. “What’s your color?” I’m hoping I get a green, that he won’t kick me out. I don’t think he should be alone yet.
My wish is granted when he says, “Green.”
“Good boy.” I wipe down his ass crack, clean his groin, then toss the rag into the laundry basket before joining him in bed again. “Do you need me to go get you a drink?”
“No, Sir.”
“Okay. I’ll just sit with you for a little while. If you need something, let me know.” I pull him close. While he’s not as relaxed as he was when I was fucking him, he doesn’t tell me yellow or red. So I don’t let go, hold him, run my fingers through his hair and tell him how good he was for me, how much I enjoy him. How proud I am of him. With each word, he relaxes more.
We stay like that for about thirty minutes before he shifts again.
“I should really…clean up.”
“I can help.”
“No. I’ll do it. I need to do it. You did what you came here for. I have a few things to do here, and then I’m heading back into the city.”
I nod, not ready to go but respecting his wishes. I get dressed, while James immediately begins stripping the bed and taking everything to the washer. He returns a moment later, wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt. “I’ll walk you down.”
“Okay. I had fun. If you’d like to get together again, message me.”
“Thank you, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. I appreciate you, though.”
“Sure,” I reply, more disappointed than I thought I’d be.But he doesn’t owe me anything, and I know exactly what this is.
Downstairs, James opens the front door. “Thank you again…for that.”
I smirk. “You don’t have to thank me for fucking you. You’ve got a great hole.” I wink at him, and I’m gifted with a small smile, even as he shakes his head.
“Goodbye, Colton.”
“Bye, James.” I walk out of his house, certain this is the last time I’ll see him. It’s for the best. He seems conflicted about his desires, and I’m starting at the university soon. The last thing I need is a distraction.
CHAPTER THREE
James
Ihate theend of the school year. While most people are looking forward to the time off, all I can think about is the way it messes with my schedule. I lose the structure I depend on most of the year and must find other ways to fill my time. I do teach a class each summer, but it’s only one and doesn’t keep me as engaged and fed as a fuller schedule, which leaves me antsy and like something is missing.
I look up when there’s a knock on my office door, grumbling to myself at the disruption. It’s interesting how I can want to be busy with my responsibilities yet get frustrated when work comes knocking. At least, I assume it’s someone who needs something from me. I straighten up in my chair. “Come in.”
The door opens, and Henry walks in. He’s a few years older than me and a professor in my department, with blondish-brown hair and a toothpaste-commercial smile. “Another year in the books.” He sits across my desk from me.
Henry is a nice guy, and I’ve known him for years, but the last thing I want right now is to talk with him. He’s always asking me to do things, trying to get me to hang out or go to his house or meet up with other professors. Not that I’ve never gone—I don’t want to come off as a total asshole—but groupactivities aren’t my thing. I’m awkward around people, don’t really know how to connect, and most of the time, it’s easier not to try.
“I still have one class over the summer.”
