I push myself up and throw my free hand around his broad neck to support myself. When I do, I sink down onto our fingers, which pierce into me and stretch me further. A desperate groan escapes my lips, and then I manage his name. “Joey. Fuck me, please.”
He must hear the urgency in my voice. Joey throws an arm around my shoulders and pulls me tight to his hairy chest. Still pumping me with his hand, he shoves his briefs aside, and I throw my hand back, rummaging for a condom.
Finally, we totally unleash on each other. Whatever restraint we both had disintegrates. Joey rolls me around, and we grope and kiss wildly. Once he’s got the condom on, I climb on top and thrust my hole up against him, teasing his thick crown. I guess because we took the time to get my body ready, it’s way easier to ride him, to take him a little bit in and then slide off again.
“Fuck,” I gasp as I claw at Joey’s hairy chest. I’ve somehow got him on his back and I’m pushing my ass back, dragging his shaft between my cheeks until I finally take him in again. “You feel so good.”
“Milo,” Joey grunts. He thrust his hips up, penetrating me, then thrusts again. “Ride me, beautiful.”
Up top, I’m in charge, and I figure out how to use my hips to slide up and down his thickness. I throw my head back, posing for him, my twitching cock on proud display as my ass slaps over and over against his body.
The orgasm builds like an intense white light behind my eyes, the need for release surging through me. Straddling Joey, I find the rhythm that thrusts my sensitive spot against his crown, and he quickly matches it. His hands on my hips and my side, he lifts me, and I scream that I’m close.
We’re fucking each other, both throwing our bodies into it frantically. When we finally come, I don’t know who started first, just that he fists my cock, and I clench down hard while he pulses and shoots, and that I can feel our bodies connect, every cell linking together for a consciousness-obliterating moment of release.
“Holy shit,” I laugh. I’m lying flat against Joey’s torso, sweaty chest to sweaty chest, although I don’t remember getting here.
Joey strokes the back of my head. “You good? You need anything?”
I laugh and nuzzle his neck. “I’m hosting. I should ask this time. But no, I’m good. You?”
Joey throws an arm over my shoulders and holds me there. “This is good.”
I laugh again. “Wow, I really needed that. I’ve heard people say that before, and I always thought, do you reallyneedgood sex? But now I get it. I had a long week, and I totally needed that.”
Joey chuckles. “Yeah, I guess I did, too. Sorry you had a long week.”
I start to dismiss it, but lying in his arms and dazed, I’m not really thinking straight. “Yeah, it’s fine. Just an interview that didn’t go well.”
Another second passes. Then Joey strokes the back of my head again. “Want to tell me about it?”
“It’s nothing,” I sigh, and it feels really comforting, having him hold me like this. “I talked to this panel—my whole class did. They decide who gets into that program I’m interested in, and when I got my question, I accidentally gave this long, babbling answer, and they didn’t seem to like it.”
The truth was, they’d asked me why I was interested in the program, and I’d gone off on the beauty of flowers and all that stuff I told Joey the other week. Except, even though Joey seemed to care about my passion, and even though it truly is what brought me to their program, the panel did not appreciate what I had to say.
They wanted research proposals and academic goals, and I was naïve enough to give them a monologue on the delicate resilience of flowers.
Ray even teased me about later, asking why I didn’t just study poetry instead.
I take in a deep breath, and Joey’s scent soothes my brain. All of the embarrassment and disappointment I feel thinking about school this week melts away, and the comfort of just being with him steadies me.
“That sucks. Fuck that panel,” Joey says.
I laugh. “Yeah,” I agree. “Fuck that panel.” I rub my fingers over the top of Joey’s head, bristling over the short hair. “You had a rough week, too?”
“It’s fine,” Joey grunts, and I quickly realize he’s not going to say anything more. I nuzzle him and stroke the top of his head again, but he doesn’t talk.
A little frustration creeps in. I want to listen to him like he listened to me and maybe try to help him feel better, too. But one more time, I’m reminded of this distance between us, even when we’re lying here together in my bed.
Damn it. I’m falling for someone I can’t have, same as always.
It feels different, though, pressing my body close to Joey’s like this. It feels like we’re already together, and I don’t want to let that go. Everything that I’m feeling right now can’t be a lie. It just can’t.
“You’re welcome to stay here,” I tell Joey softly, then kiss his neck once. “Spend the night or whatever.”
I hear a groan under Joey’s breath. He rubs a slow circle between my shoulders, then kisses my forehead. “I’m sorry I can’t sleep over tonight,” he says, “but I don’t need to hurry off, if you want to lay around.”
I push myself up off his chest and catch his eye. “Lay around and read?”
