I smiled at how quickly he turned shy. “Happy Birthday, Kitten.”
“Kiss me again but with tongue,” he said, angling his face my way.
“Bossy,” I remarked, not at all surprised
If this was really going to happen, then we were going to do it right. There would be no half-assing Kitten’s first kiss. I reached around him, one hand at the small of his back and the other guiding his nape. Our noses bumped against each other, and he giggled, nervous. His little pink tongue poked between his lips as he teased me with it, running it along the seam of my mouth like a cheeky invitation. I parted my mouth and tasted him—sweeter than a ripe strawberry. With a little more encouragement, he opened up for me with the same tenacity he attempted everything else. Our tongues were playful, tussling in a sensuous give and take that quickly grew heated.
I imagined doing this, only this, in a bed with soft pillows in a room flooded with sunlight, where we could explore each other without the threat of danger always looming. I wanted to kiss him everywhere, tease out every little shiver and moan of pleasure, see how his body might react to my attention. I kissed him like tomorrow was guaranteed. I wanted to give him tomorrow and the day after and the day after that…
We broke away to catch our breath. He looked dazed, pleasantly so, and I admired this beautiful boy who’d tunneled his way into my heart, elbows out, feisty as an alley cat and sweeter than summer rain.
“Can we do that again?” he asked, his lips swollen from our kiss.
“Why not?” I said with a wide grin.
“You’re smiling,” he said happily, then came at me again, with teeth this time, a little nip to my lower lip followed by a soothing lick. Even in this, he was testing me, so I matched his intensity, thrusting my tongue in deep, hollowing him out just enough to remind him who was boss. His skin was dewy with sweat and hot to the touch where he pressed his body flush against mine. His gentle thrusts escalated as he moaned into my mouth and wrapped his arms around my neck.
“Can I…” He was panting, grinding on my lap just as he’d done on the pole.
“Yeah.” I positioned his hips so he could use me to get off. He rubbed against me, his cock and balls prominent in those shrink-wrapped shorts. I kissed both his flushed cheeks and his forehead. I kissed his curls, damp against his temple, and the satin ribbon around his throat. I licked along his jaw and brushed my lips against the delicate triangle under his chin where his pulse throbbed. I tasted the salt of his skin and the sweetness of his desire.
“Cipher,” he moaned as he arched his spine right before coming in his little pink hotpants, so much that some of it seeped through the fabric. He whimpered with pleasure as his hips staggered to a sluggish roll. I rubbed his sweaty back while he caught his breath, then unknotted my bandana from around my neck and handed it to him. Bashful again, he wiped himself off.
“Do you want it back?” he asked.
“Yep.” I balled up the soiled cloth and tucked it into my pocket.
“What about you?” He traced the outline of my dick with his thumb.
“I don’t need anything at the moment.”
“Later?” he asked hopefully.
“Maybe. Right now, I just want this.”
I tugged him to me, and he melted in my arms as we cuddled in a warm, sweaty embrace. The radio had quit working a while ago, and all but one flashlight had run out of batteries. I traced along his spine and kissed his hair. Neither of us felt the need to speak. Eventually, I pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
“Let me have some,” he said, head popping up to watch me.
“No.”
“One puff?” His amber eyes were beseeching. “Please? I just want to try it once.”
“One hit,” I told him sternly. “And don’t breathe in too deeply.”
I turned the cigarette toward him, and he sucked the tip daintily, eyes going wide. He exhaled a wisp of smoke and coughed up a lung. I thumped his back a few times; I should have known better.
“Tastes bitter,” he said. “Hurts my chest.”
“That’s why you shouldn’t do it. They’re bad for you.” I knew the risks to my health. I’d quit in my twenties, if I survived. I was living for today.
“I like the smell. Reminds me of you.”
“Are you sweet-talking me, Kitten?”
“Maybe,” he said with a little laugh.
I was half reclined on the couch with him laid out on top of me. His chin was propped up on one hand, watching me while I smoked. I tried not to blow any of it into his face. I didn’t want to trigger his asthma.
