“Fuck,” I panted into his neck. “You’re so fucking hot.”
“C-Caelyx.” He rasped out my name, his hand flying up to grip my wrist. I froze, hoping I wasn’t blowing it or anything. I’d been optimistic enough about this scenario that I’d done my research about trans guy anatomy, so I was pretty sure I was doing it right. His cock might have been smaller than mine, but the same basic principles of friction and stimulation applied.
Holding me firmly, he pushed my hand down a little deeper, applying pressure to my fingers until they curled into him, just enough that I could feel where he was wet. When he pulled my hand back up, dragging that hot slickness back up with it, he moaned at the slippery glide of my fingers on him.
He kept a grip on my wrist, holding me in place while I worked him. In no time at all, I felt his fingernails dig into my hand and he moaned, his back arching while his dick pulsed and jerked in my fingers. His whole body tensed up like a bowstring as he panted out his pleasure, and then he went limp, slumping back against my chest as his orgasm tapered down.
I didn’t pull back, kissing and licking at his neck, the sexy little aftershock throbs of his body against my hand making my head spin and my cock leak in my boxers.
“Caelyx.” My name came out as a warning this time. He was probably trying to tell me that he was too sensitive to be touched right after coming, but the husky satisfaction in his voice only magnified my arousal.
“I know, Cupcake,” I assured him. “I’ll give you a minute. But you’re not done yet.”
He snorted, a tiny laugh huffing out of his mouth before he shook his head. “Believe me, I’m done.”
“I can’t risk it,” I said simply, careful not to move too much and overstimulate him, while still grinding into his firm ass. “Idon’t want you taking him home tonight. I don’t want you eventhinkingabout him tonight.”
“Jesus,” he said, voicing it like a complaint, but his hot little whimper betrayed his real feelings. “I won’t, okay? I didn’t know it meant that much to you.”
“It does,” I said, my voice low against his skin. I didn’t care anymore about scaring him off with my probably-obsessive interest. If assholes like Preston were going to stand there and give him obviousfuck meeyes, then I wasn’t holding back either. “I can’t help it.”
He didn’t ask for me to elaborate or expand on that thought, for which I was glad. I shifted my lips up to his jaw, and it didn’t take much longer of me rubbing up against him and kissing him there and under his ear, until he was squirming in my grasp, writhing and grinding his still-stiff dick against my hand.
I started stroking him again, and for the first time since I’d known him, I felt I could read Aspen Davis like a book. Teasing him for awhile with my touch, I instantly gave in when he let out a soft whine and then growled out a command for me to hurry the fuck up. The bossy, dominant tone in his voice was so fucking hot. I imagined him pushing me down so I was kneeling between his legs, and then holding my skull in place so he could fuck my mouth and ride my tongue.
I drowned in his stuttered moans and needy gasps until my balls were aching and I was ready to blow. With my free hand, I reached down and unzipped myself, while he was rolling his hips desperately into my fingers. I made a tight fist around my throbbing shaft, stroking myself hard.
“Be sweet for me, Cupcake,” I pleaded, my breath coming out hot and fast against his neck. “I want to come together.” I knew he had to be close, and I was so fucking close I could have cried. I was desperate for relief, my hips twitching with the urgent need for more friction on my cock.
He let out a muffled groan, arching again, and I felt all his muscles tense up, just like before. A moan crawled up from my chest and I sank my teeth into his shoulder to try and stifle it as my balls drew up tight. I came in hot pulses, each thick spurt shooting out to land in the dirt next to his feet.
When it was over, he went limp, mostly held up by my arm around his waist. I struggled to drag air back into my lungs, and to calm down my jackhammering heart. Gently dragging his zipper back up and fastening the button back on his pants, I shifted to tuck my dick away too.
My interest in the party had evaporated to nonexistent, and all I wanted was to collapse into bed and let the post-orgasm bliss put me to sleep. But no such luck.
Aspen finally turned to face me, but before I could try to analyze the expression on his face, I noticed blood on his plush lower lip.
“Did you bite yourself, Cupcake?” I asked, and he frowned, rubbing a thumb over it, staring down at the red smear as he pulled back.
“I guess so,” he said.
“Don’t worry, I’ll kiss it and make it better,” I joked, leaning in with a comically exaggerated pouting expression. He turned at the last second, dodging it.
“Don’t kiss me,” he requested softly, and my stomach tumbled with nerves.
“Are you mad at me or something?” I asked, and he quickly shook his head.
“No,” he clarified instantly. “No, it’s not about you. I just… Don’t do that.”
“Oh,” I realized, relieved that he wasn’t pissed off at me, but still somewhat disappointed. He had a great mouth, and I loved making out. But even I knew to quit while I was ahead. For now, at least.
“So you’re not mad at me,” I reiterated, and the corner of that pretty mouth perked up as he tried to act like he didn’t find it cute that I’d asked again.
“I’m not,” he promised. “You, um…” He paused, looking vaguely embarrassed as his gaze drifted off into the cornfield to avoid my eye contact.“It was good.”
“Yeah?” I asked, my tone so obviously eager and delighted that he snorted, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah. Don’t be weird about it.”
