David follows right after me, drenching my fingers with his sticky seed. He comes for what seems like forever. When he’s finally still, I collapse next to him with a low, drawn-out groan.
He throws one leg over my hip, pinning our sweaty bodies together. We lay like that for a while, not speaking, just clinging to each other, until David finally breaks the silence. “So what’s the verdict?”
“What verdict?”
“Doing a dude. Was it all you’d hoped it would be?”
It was. That and more. But I’m not sure he’s ready for me to confess my undying love for him after one roll in the hay, so I just kiss his damp neck. Fuck, I love the taste of him. I was right about him being addictive.
Hi, my name is Chris, and I’m a David-aholic.
“Ten out of ten stars,” I say, kissing him again.
We return to our companionable postorgasm silence. After a few minutes, David rolls away from me and heads for the adjoining bathroom, and my mind immediately jumps to the worst possible conclusion.
“Do you want me to go?” I call after him, propping myself up on one elbow.
“Only if you want to,” he says, coming back into the room with two towels. He tosses one to me and wipes his abs with the other. “Thought you might like to clean up.”
“Oh.” I sit up and run the towel over my stomach and groin. “Thanks.”
He drops his towel and climbs back into bed. “It’s still early. We could catch a few more hours of sleep. Maybe grab some breakfast when we wake up. If that works for you.”
“Yeah, that works.” As much as I’d like to stay like this for the next ten or twenty years or so, I have to go back to San Fran tomorrow. But my flight’s not until late afternoon, so I’ll settle for breakfast. For now.
I toss my towel onto the floor and lie down next to him. He nudges me onto my side so my back is to his chest. Then he wraps an arm around my waist and strokes lazy circles on my stomach with his hand. And we’re still that way when we drift off to sleep.
