We laughed breathlessly.I spread his cum all over my torso, because that seemed better than letting it leak through my shirt or cleaning it up with some other article of clothing in the moment, and he said, “Fuck, dude, I’m sorry.”
“Please.I’ll be hard all night knowing I’m wearing you.”I sat up, or tried to, but the seat belt caught on my arm.
He helped me disentangle.“Are you going back there?”
“I mean, I kinda have to.”But, ugh.It was so much nicer here.
He said, “Mom’s probably gone home by now.”
“I can drop you,” I said.Yeah, okay.We got off.Time to wrap it up.
“That was nothing like it used to be, by the way.”He eyed me up and down.
“No, we’re way better at this now,” I agreed.“But you’re still too sensitive to last very long.”
“Hey, I can go twice in a row, just for your information.”He swatted at my leg.
“No shit?”I eyed his semi-deflated dick speculatively.
“It’s my superpower.”
I snorted, but it was really time.I sat up and straightened my shirt out a little, then reached for the car door to extract my shorts and pants.
But he leaned over and grabbed my hand.“Wait.”
I wanted to look at him.Wanted to figure out what the fuck he was doing.Wanted to be prepared, because I knew the kind of damage he was capable of.But I couldn’t.I just stared at the door handle, my hand in his.
“What are you doing tomorrow?”he asked.
Surprised, I glanced up and caught his gaze.“I don’t know.Probably hiding from my family.”
“Would you want to—?”
“Taran.”
His mouth shut so fast, I heard it snap.
I sighed and took my hand back, running it through my hair just in time to remember it had cum all over it.Fuck my life.“This was great.And you’re great.But I’m not trying to make this a thing again.”
“Oh.I—I get it.”
“I don’t think you do.”I opened the door, trying to put myself back together.Instinct told me not to look at the beautiful motherfucker.
He was quiet for a while, opening his own door and stirring as he replaced various articles of clothing.He leaned into the front seat and rifled through his jacket until he found his glasses, then put them on.Then, and only then, he said, “I know… I can be disappointing.But I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I think the problem—”
“What?”I couldn’t help it; I turned to look at him out of sheer surprise.
He had his pants on but not zipped or buckled, just hanging open to artlessly display his package behind standard-issue white shorts.His brow was furrowed seriously, scrunched up behind loose hair and the rim of his glasses.“I just mean—”
“Who told you you’re disappointing?”I demanded, experiencing a vaguely frightening protective urge.
“Okay, maybe that’s not the word for what happened with us.”He gestured with one hand and pushed his glasses up with the other.“Not for everything.But I did disappoint you, and we both know it.”
I didn’t like the sound of that.And yet, there was no point lying to him.I’d sure fucking made myself clear, that last time we’d been together.Wished I could forget how clear.“Kinda.I guess?”
“That’s what hurt.”His voice went quieter, thoughtful.Almost philosophical.“That I wasn’t the guy you wanted me to be.But I’m okay with that, because I actually wish I’d been that guy.Whereas, with most of the other people I’ve disappointed, I’m not sorry at all.”
That flare of annoyance again.“Who the fuck told you that you were disappointing?Jesus, man, that’s fucked up.”
