“Your story was a lot more creative than mine. I should have given it more thought,” he said.
“Yours was perfect.”
“Are we sticking with these stories next time, or coming up with new ones?”
“I’m sticking with mine, but if you want a new one, go for it.”
He smiled at me and said, “Either way, this was fun. I liked trying to imagine living a life that’s totally different from my own, and pretending to be someone else.”
What I liked was getting to be my true self for a change, but I nodded in agreement.
Later on, after we got ready for bed, Armando stood there uncertainly and said, “I can sleep on the couch if you want.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Well, because it’s your bed, and I don’t want to be in the way.”
“The only reason I slept on the couch last night was because you were drunk,” I said. “Tonight, there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Okay, then.”
He started out on the far side of the king-size mattress. He’d become more confident throughout the evening, but it seemed he was back to feeling shy now. Even so, he slowly moved closer, and when he reached me, I kissed him gently.
Just like before, things heated up quickly. He tugged at my tank top, so I took it off and tossed it aside. As he ran his hands over my shoulders, he murmured, “I love the way you feel.”
He sucked my nipple before licking, kissing, and caressing his way down my body. At my waistband, he paused and looked up at me with raw desire in his eyes. It was clear what he wanted, so I took off my shorts and briefs. Then I propped myself up with some pillows, parting my legs to give him access to every part of me.
Armando was breathing quickly as he knelt between my thighs and wrapped his hand around my shaft. I could feel himtrembling slightly, but that was probably from excitement more than nervousness, given the way he was tenting his briefs.
It took a while to work his way up to sucking my cock, which was understandable. It was one thing to fantasize about giving a blow job, and another thing entirely to actually do it.
He jerked me off for a few minutes before licking my cock and finally taking the tip in his mouth. He seemed unsure of himself when he started sucking me, so I tried to encourage him by murmuring, “That feels wonderful.” I could see some of the tension in his shoulders ease when I said that.
Gradually, he slid his lips down my shaft, inch by inch, and began sucking me harder and faster. I stroked his hair and made a point of being more vocal than usual, so he’d know I was enjoying it.
I thought he was going to keep his eyes shut throughout it, but after a while, he looked up at me. When our eyes met, all of this intensified, in a way that caught me off guard. Pretty soon, I rasped, “I’m close.”
Armando let my cock slip from his lips and sat up before going back to jerking me off. Moments later, I shot onto my stomach with some sort of incoherent yell. I collapsed against the pillows, and when I glanced at him, he looked so self-satisfied that it made me chuckle.
As soon as I could form words again, I asked, “Can I return the favor?”
“Next time.”
“Okay.” I sat up and kissed him. Then I brushed his hair from his eyes and said, “Be right back,” before going to clean up in the bathroom.
When I returned, I found my briefs and pulled them on before joining Armando under the covers. He grinned drowsily and curled up with his head on my chest. “Thanks for being patient while I fumbled my way through that,” he murmured.
I kissed the top of his head and told him, “You were wonderful.”
“I doubt that.”
“You made me come in record time,” I pointed out. “That’s tangible proof of how well you did.”
Armando looked up at me and smiled. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better about being so clueless.”
He fell asleep soon after, and I rested my cheek against his hair as I thought back over the last twenty-four hours. We both knew this was brand new to him, but a lot of it had been new for me, too.
For as long as I could remember, I’d only allowed myself quick hookups with nameless strangers I met in bars. We’d fuck and go our separate ways. That was it. There was no real intimacy. We wouldn’t hold each other, or sleep in the same bed, or even share a meal.
