Roman returned home laterthat day after showering at the gym and picking up some beignets from N’awlins as a sweet treat. He opened the front door and bellowed like a sitcom husband, “Ezra, I’m home.”
“In the living room,” Ezra called. From his vantage point, Roman saw Ezra’s cute little ankles kicked up on the back of the sofa and on his feet were the blessed white socks with purple pompoms. Roman dropped his stuff by the door and swiftly circled the couch to find Ezra lounging there with his tablet resting on his tummy, wearing nothing but his socks and a pair of extremely small white briefs. Did he shop in the children’s section or what?
“How was your workout?” Ezra asked as if completely clueless about the effect his near nudity was having on Roman, but his impish grin gave him away.
“Good,” Roman managed to say as he sat down next to him, as close as was physically possible. He’d seen Ezra in his short shorts and Spandex bathing suit, but never in his underwear, and it felt both illicit and thrilling. Roman set Ezra’s tablet aside, then hooked one finger under the waistband of his briefs and dragged it along his smooth skin. He snapped the elastic against his soft belly, causing Ezra to gasp in indignation then utter a noise that was somewhere between a hum and a purr.
“Do you always wear such tiny underwear?” Roman asked.
“I like them tight.”
“Of course you do. Come here.” Roman hooked his arms under Ezra’s shoulders and scooped him onto his lap in one smooth motion. Ezra squeezed one of Roman’s biceps, which prompted him to flex for his benefit.
“You’re looking quite swole,” Ezra said in appreciation.
“I’m up to 275 on the bench.” He’d been able to bench more in his younger years, but that was before his injuries and retirement. In fact, it was Jay who had gotten him back into the gym a few years ago when he’d been in a bit of a funk.
“Jay must be jealous.”
Roman didn’t tell him that Jay had just surpassed him. Let Ezra think Roman had him beat. His best friend would surely correct him before long. “What have you been doing while I was gone?” Roman asked, a little disoriented by all of his smooth, bare skin. No matter where he put his hands, he couldn’t help but grope him, so he went with it; his big hands practically encircled Ezra’s waist while his fingers massaged his sweet cheeks.
“I was waiting for you to come home.” Ezra looped his arms around Roman’s neck and leaned in closer so that he could whisper into his ear, “I was thinking about you naked and wet, and it was making me hard.”
Roman lost his mastery over language and could only sit there, stunned.
“Want to go in the hot tub?” Ezra asked sweetly. He knew Roman liked to do that after a grueling workout, though Roman suspected his intentions were less pure this time around.
“Definitely.”
He stood with Ezra still cradled in his arms and walked him out to the veranda. “Roman, you’re going to drop me,” Ezra protested as Roman threw open the French door.
“Better hold on tight then,” he warned, which caused the young man to cling to him with all of his might. Roman relished the press of Ezra’s lithe body crushed up against him. Ezra, thrilled and scared, thinking he might be in danger when Roman knew otherwise. Like when they’d played football together and Roman had threatened both teams that if they roughed him up, they’d face his wrath. Roman liked being Ezra’s protector. Ezra was competent in so many ways, that it felt like an honor to be able to take the lead on some things.
It was chilly outside, being the last weeks of fall. He set Ezra on the cold concrete in order to tear off the Jacuzzi’s cover with gusto before turning back to his young lover.
“May I?” Roman said with one finger hooked underneath the waistband of his underwear. Ezra nodded with giddy delight, hugging himself from the cold.
Roman slipped the tight underwear down Ezra’s finely muscled legs, which had gained definition since they’d started working out together. He ran his palms along Ezra’s smooth outer thighs to warm his skin, but really it was to memorize the texture and shape of him. Built like a runner with a round, bubble butt, Ezra was slight of stature but not so delicate that Roman couldn’t manhandle him a little. Ezra’s pink-hued cock bobbed with interest, his balls drawn up tight from the cold—his very own present, finally unwrapped. It was all so tempting that Roman didn’t quite know where to begin.
“Roman, I’m cold,” Ezra said, hopping from one socked foot to the other. Roman carefully removed each of his socks, which caused Ezra to dance a little because his feet were so ticklish. As soon as he was undressed, Ezra dashed into the hot tub and sank beneath the water.
“Your turn,” Ezra said with obvious anticipation.
“You want me to get naked?” Roman asked as if he were too modest to do so.
Ezra nodded, eyes roving all over Roman’s broad frame, hungry for it.
So, Roman made the most of it, giving his captive audience of one a show he might remember. He stripped off his shirt, flexed his arms, and tensed his abs, angling his shoulders to give Ezra a generous view. He shucked off his pants and underwear, then turned around and squeezed his glutes, which he knew to be pretty impressive, before slowly pivoting to face Ezra, whose tongue was practically lolling in his head. His wide eyes zeroed in on Roman’s cock, half-hard and only slightly impaired by the cold.
“You’re bigger than my dildo,” Ezra remarked, which just about blew Roman’s mind.
“Ezra, you have a dildo?”
“For anal penetration. How else could I reach my prostate to stimulate it?”
Roman, still hung up on the words “anal penetration,” dipped down into the water and dragged Ezra back onto his lap. His hands went seeking him again and squeezed his tight ass cheeks like he was juicing an orange. “I’m learning so much about you,” Roman said as Ezra’s eyes fluttered closed and he leaned back into the touch. “What color is your dildo?”
“Purple.”
