“Yes,” I rasp.
Clayton leans back, taking his belt off and undoing his jeans. While I watch him, I take my shirt off and the split second the fabric is over my face feels like too long. Too much time lost from the sight before me. I don’t want to miss a single thing.
If you had asked me even just a month ago if I would be laying beneath Clayton, drooling over his body and eager for him to take his cock out; maybe I’d have called you crazy.
I was in denial.
Me hurting him? That’s what opened my eyes. It made me realize I would do anything in this world to make sure he never hurt like that. Not from me. Not from anyone.
Clayton reaches down between us and unbuckles my belt, letting my button open, and shimmying my jeans down until I can slip out of them. He pulls his pants off, too, and it’s just us. Skin on skin with nothing but our boxers covering us. His cock is bulging at his briefs, begging to be free, as is mine.
“What a sight you are, Maxwell,” he claimed, staring down at me. Our eyes lock before he’s down on me again, kissing and sliding his tongue into my mouth
He takes the distraction to slide his hand down, slipping into my boxers and gripping my cock. With a tight grasp, he strokes me up and down and it takes everything in me not to thrust my hips into his hand. Clayton stops and I groan at the loss, but it’s not for long since he’s removing both of our boxers. He leans over me, using his armsto hold up his weight. Lining up his cock next to mine, he thrusts his hips causing both of our shafts to rub together.
My fingers grip the sheets, my head falling back, and I’m afraid that I’m going to cum before this can even begin. It goes like this for a few moments. Moans and gasps slipping from my lips, Clayton’s lips trailing along my body. God, it’s too fucking much.
He stops.
Thank god because I don’t want to finish yet. I can’t finish when we have barely begun.
“You’re going to be on top, okay?” He says, voice soft. “If you want to stop at any moment, you let me know, alright?”
I nod. “Okay.”
He flips us over. Him laying on his back, me kneeling between his legs.
“Do you have lube?” He questions.
“Bedside drawer.” Leaning over, he grabs it. I watch him. His every movement, his entire body. All of him. My eyes move up and down, not sure where to look because I wish I could see all of him.
He passes me the bottle and I take it, staring down at it as if I don’t know how to use it. Grabbing it back from me, he squirts some into his hand and takes my cock in his hand. Stroking me and getting me nice and wet for him.
“Are you sure about this?” He asks. I bit my lip and nodded, moaning. He spreads his legs further around me.
“What if I hurt you?” I manage to grind out.
“You won’t.” With his free hand, he grips onto my hip and pulls me closer to him.
“Come on, baby,” he coos.
Taking my cock from his hand, I inch closer on my knees. Getting up to him, he takes his hands and spreads himself. His cock is sitting,pointing up to his stomach, a thick vein on each side running to the tip.
I could drool over him. It's almost weird to feel this way over a guy. It's not something I'm used to, but I've never been more eager in my life.
“Wait. Do we need a condom?”
“Oh. Right, sure. Yeah,” he answers. I point to the bedside table and he shuffles around to grab one. He doesn’t pass it to my open hand, but instead rips it open with his teeth and applies it himself.
“Are you nervous?” He asks.
“A little,” I admit.
“We don’t have to do this.”
“No! I want to. I do! Just bear with me.” I pause. “Should I.. prep you?”
“It’s okay.”
