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First Shift

Page 58

by Rebecca Norinne

He tapped my stomach, right above the knot holding my sweats up. “Should we take this stuff off, or do you want to keep our boxers on?”

“Off,” I said, my face flushing hot. We were on the first day of a ten-day roadie. No way did I want to be carting around underwear stiff with dried cum for the rest of the trip. “Is that okay?”

Cally’s eyebrows lifted, his lips quirking to the side. “Very okay,” he whispered, bringing his hand up to the side of my neck to brush his thumb over the spot where I could feel my pulse going a mile a minute. “Don’t worry, M. I got you.”

Then he pushed off me, sitting back and hooking his fingers in the waistband of his sweats and boxers, shoving them down and kicking them off the side of the bed. Next came his shirt, and⁠—

Fuck me.

I’d seen Cally’s body before, obviously. But I’d never looked—not like this. My eyes dropped to his cock, half-hard and resting in a thatch of dark curls. Then over the cut lines of his stomach and up to his chest, his nipples a dusky brown, tight in the cool air of the room. I imagined biting them, and my cock swelled. My gaze traveled to his neck, where I watched his skin turn pink, the flush climbing to his cheeks, then to the tips of his ears. Cally’s throat bobbed on a hard swallow when our eyes finally met.

He tipped his chin forward. “Your turn.”

“Right,” I said, my hands shaking as I hooked my thumbs in my waistband and shoved my sweats and boxers down over my hips and thighs. My back gave a dull throb as I fumbled to get them off, my toe catching on the front placket of my boxers. I kicked my leg out and watched everything fly across the room to land in a pile.

And then there was no way to pretend this wasn’t anything other than what it was: two friends—one gay, the other not quite as straight as he’d always assumed—about to use each other’s bodies to get off.

Pulling in a breath for courage, I leaned back onto my elbows and engaged my core, wanting to show off the one part of my body that could compete with his. His eyes dropped, and I held the flex until his gaze slid lower, where my cock rested in the shallow ridge of my v-line.

He blew a loud breath out through his nose and, almost like he couldn’t help it, gripped himself and squeezed. Christ, he was big—thick and flushed and curving up toward his belly button.

I watched, rapt, as pre-cum leaked from his tip to slide down over the head. “See what you do to me?” he asked, his voice low and rough as his hand began shuttling slowly up and down, his eyes trained on me the entire time. “You’re so fucking hot, I can barely stand it sometimes.”

I’d had girls tell me they wanted me, say they loved sucking my cock, but it had always seemed performative—words they thought they were supposed to say to stroke my ego. And it had worked.

But seeing Cally hard and leaking just looking at me. Hearing him tell me I was hot. Showing off the evidence of how into this he was?

Fuck. It was something else entirely.

How could I be nervous when he wanted me this badly?

I lowered myself onto my back, feeling only a small twinge as I went, and spread my legs in invitation.

Cally pushed up onto his knees but didn’t immediately join me. Instead, he stayed there, playing with his cock and staring down at me, his flushed chest heaving in and out.

“You coming?” I smirked up at him.

He huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes. “I will be.”

He moved between my spread legs and lowered himself down, slowly, like he was giving me time to change my mind.

But I didn’t want slow.

I hooked a hand behind his neck, yanking him down.

“Someone’s eager.”

“You’re just now figuring that out?” I asked, winding my right leg around his hip and pressing upward, chasing the friction. “I’ve needed to come for like an hour already. My balls are turning blue.”

“So dramatic.” He glanced down at where we were pressed together and rolled his hips in a slow, filthy grind, his cock dragging against mine.

“Yes,” I gasped. “Finally.”

“That what you wanted, asshole?” he quipped, and fuck if that hint of bitchiness from my shy, unfailingly polite friend didn’t do it for me.

I slid my arms under his, hooking my hands over the tops of his shoulders, my fingers digging into his traps and rolling myself against him so that I was working for it too, not just lying there taking it. “What do you think?”

Cally grunted, his hips moving faster now. “Yeah. Use me. Just like that.”