I climbed the staircase of our house, which was beginning to feel like a home, with the intent of surprising Kitten, but when I threw open the door to our bedroom, announcing, “Kitten, I’m home,” it was me who got a hell of a surprise.
Kitten, lying in our rumpled bed with his face flushed and lips slightly parted with one hand down his pants.Waydown his pants.
“What are you doing here?” he asked in a breathy voice and yanked his hand out of his underwear.
“I got off early.” I dropped my tool belt on the floor along with my knives and came to sit at his bedside. “Did I interrupt something?”
He rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in his arms, clearly embarrassed, though there was no reason as far as I could tell. We still masturbated, sometimes together, sometimes apart. While he hid, I admired his shoulders, which had broadened in recent months, and the slope of his back where bands of muscle ran the length of his spine and arrowed to his tapered waist. His cute bubble butt was as perky as ever, and his thighs had filled out some too. My boyfriend was fucking fine as hell.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” I whispered in his ear. “I think you’re really sexy.” I drew my hand down his smooth back, stopping at the band of his underwear. He still wore briefs, though they no longer hung from his narrow waist but clung to him quite enticingly.
“I was looking for my…” He mumbled something into his arm that I couldn’t quite hear.
“Your what?”
He rolled onto his back and said with a huff, “I was looking for my prostate.”
I smiled at my intrepid boyfriend. “And did you find it?”
“Don’t think so.” He sighed and glanced out the window where the rain was now falling in sheets. The room was subdued and intimate, the storm blurring the details of the world outside so that it was only the two of us in focus.
“Remember when it rained in Rabid Country and we’d huddle up under your tarp to stay dry?” he said.
Such a sentimental boy. He still talked about our raccoon kebabs like they were a rare delicacy. I grabbed his hand–the one that hadn’t been fingering his butthole–and kissed it. “Of course I do.”
“Do you ever miss it?” he asked.
“I miss being in the woods, but I also like coming home to you every day, knowing you’ll be safe when I’m not around.” I started petting him then, stroking along his chest and down to his navel, traversing the side of his hip to the bone that jutted there, less prominent than before, the three moles that reminded me of Orion’s Belt. He parted his legs so I could slide my hand up his inner thigh where the hair was so blond and fine I could hardly see it.
“That feels nice,” he said with a lazy smile.
“I could probably help you find it, your prostate.”
“Yeah?” he asked hopefully.
“Wanna draw me a map?”
He punched my arm and rolled back onto his stomach, hiding again. I stripped out of my sweaty, rain-dampened clothing and lay down beside him, caressing him in the way that always softened him up and made him more persuadable. “I am an excellent scout,” I said as my nose brushed along his smooth shoulder and my hand dipped under the bottom edge of his underwear. I stroked the underside of his balls and he raised his hips to give me better access.
“I guess you could try,” he said, feigning reluctance, and reached over to our bedside table. He handed me an unmarked canister of what looked like vegetable shortening.
“Please tell me we’re not cooking with this,” I said.
He laughed and told me Marion had given it to him for “exploratory purposes,” which wasn’t a conversation I wanted to imagine, then he grabbed his waistband and yanked down his underwear to bare his ass, two rounded mounds, smooth as a plum and split down the middle, the perfect place to bury my dick. Damn, I wanted to fuck him so bad, especially when he was pushing it out there like that.
I pulled his underwear the rest of the way off. He had a tan line around his waist that faded around his upper thighs.Mine,I thought reflexively. Having his ass on display was too damn tempting.
“Roll over,” I said and he did so immediately, drawing up his knees and staring at me like the trusting innocent he was.
“One finger,” I said and he nodded, looking nervous. I leaned down and kissed his pretty lips, easing my tongue inside to distract him. My mouth migrated to his neck, sucking softly, and then to his shoulder. He tasted like strawberries and sunshine and it reminded me of long summer days spent playing in the park near our apartment in D.C.
“You’re free to explore on your own,” I whispered in his good ear, “but I’m available too, if you want some help.”
“I felt stupid asking.”
“Don’t. I’m as curious as you are.”
“Okay.” He drew his legs further apart, exposing his nearly hairless balls and jutting cock. The curls around the base of his dick were a shade darker than the ones on his head, his shaft a tawny brown and his crown a little darker, topped with a jewel of precum that I collected with my tongue. He shivered from the wet touch, and I settled in the cradle of his thighs to stroke his dick, warming him up.
