He slides a hand behind his head. “You going to tease me the whole time?”
“That’s a funny way to beg for a handjob.”
He snorts, but his smile betrays him. “You just want to do hand stuff tonight?”
I think, leaning back so my ass presses against his erection. “We could try something new? You could fuck my thighs.”
His brows raise. “Yeah?”
“I know you’re not really into topping, but I have been curious what it would feel like…”
“Howcurious?” He gives my ass a squeeze. “Like playing with your ass, without me, curious?”
“I guess notthatcurious,” I admit sheepishly.
He keeps palming my ass. “I’d love to fuck you, Roderick.” His hand slips down, fingers wrapping around the inside of my thigh. “You’ll be so tight around my cock…”
“Afterthe movie.” I lean over to grab the remote. “Let’s see if they’ve got any of those extended director's cuts.”
“Whatever you want…” His hand sides up my body slipping under my shirt. “I’m going to be distracted the whole time.”
I do convince him to sit next to me during the movie. The concession being he immediately unzips his pants. We’re ten minutes into some heist movie before I slip my hand into his boxers, stoking him mindlessly.
His head rolls back, laying on the back of the couch. “That’s good…” He drones. “So good.”
When I stop, he nuzzles intomy hair, muttering, “I can still fuck you later if I finish now.”
I try to ignore him, but it’s difficult when his voice is so husky and pleading.
“Come on handsome… touch me more with your perfect hands.”
I hold fast. Waiting till his cock is half-hard to touch him again.
“Shit—” he chokes.
“You want me to stop touching you now?”
He huffs. “Fuck no.”
By no fault of its own, the movie doesn’t hold my attention. Christos is a much better watching experience; his heavy breaths and nostrils flaring, all his grunts teetering to whimpers, his cock twitching in my hands—that’s always when I stop.
At one point he grumbles, “You’re trying to kill me.”
So, the next time I touch him I forget about my hands and use my mouth instead. My lips are around the head, and my tongue has barely touched him when he grabs my hair and yanks me back.
“Shit, Roderick, if you do that it’s going to make a mess.”
His grip on my hair is so desperate, but I still tilt my head to one side, making sure my eyes are wide and innocent. “Don’t come then.”
I don’t take much of him in my mouth, just a little past the tip, but he’s a wreck. He covers his mouth with his hand, muffing groans that make my own cock hard. I drag my tongue across the head, lapping up a pearl of precum. I crave more, but he’s right—if I keep going that’s going to be a huge mess to clean up.
Domesticity is hot, but I can see how that would be a mood killer.
I pull back and Christos’ hand falls from his face.
“Upstairs?”
I glance back at the TV. “Movie isn’t over yet.”
