He's no doubt expecting me to bring the conversation full circle and say, ‘Hopeful.'
"Oh, yeah,” I say instead.
I crouch and grab the keycard, taking the opportunity to have a bite of his perfect little ass. Still crouched, I slide the card into its slot and turn the door handle. Before he has a chance to step back, Josh falls through, landing on his knees. I grab his right leg. Give it a yank. When he crashes to his stomach, I use the leg I'm holding to flip him over. Then I kick the door shut, drop my body between his thighs, and wrench his arms high over his head. Past time for me to gain some control, here.
Far from being subdued, Josh spreads his slim thighs wide and locks his ankles in the small of my back. A long, slow hip-roll's in it for me. I ignore the insane urge to thrust back. I will not come in my pants, no matter how sexy the bastard underneath me is. I go for his throat instead.
His smell is a blend of starch and expensive, peppery cologne. His taste, a heady combo of salt and sex and sin. My tongue savors the tense tendon from earlobe to collarbone. Josh groans. Good. If I can get him even half as riled as he's got me, I'll be doing pretty darn well.
His legs tighten on my hips. His body performs this acrobatic, dolphinesque twist, and now somehow I'm the one on the bottom.
"My turn,” he says, pushing wide the buttonless sides of my shirt. He pets the dark triangle of hair on my upper chest for a second before zeroing in on my nipples, twisting and pinching so hard that endorphins flood my brain. My cock jumps like an excitable pony beneath his ass. I bite my lip, stifling the whimper dying to escape.
Josh is watching me, his eyes hooded. “You're so good-looking, Carl,” he murmurs. “So sexy."
I smile and lean up to kiss him—him, the guy who's really the sexy, good-looking one in this equation—and begin to undo his shirt the civilized way, one button at a time.
When I get to the last ivory placeholder, slipping it free of its narrow slit, I flatten my palms over his phenomenal six-pack and start a return journey, nudging crisp white linen out of my way as I go. His stomach quivers. He tugs my hands off the corrugation of his ribs.
Hmm. Seems little Josh Camden is ticklish.
Cool.
I block his retreat with my knees and really dig in. Josh tries to stop me. When that fails, he attempts to twist away. But he's laughing so hard he's gasping and there's no strength behind his efforts. His hard little ass is flexing, squirming in my lap. The friction feels awesome. And, of course, I'm laughing at how hard he's laughing. It's impossible not to.
In retaliation—or maybe just because he liked my reaction the first time—Josh pinches both my nipples again. Viciously hard.
I stop laughing.
Josh's tongue plunges at the same time his hands do. Suddenly, he's fisting my cock, not fucking around at all.
I find myself frantic to return the favor.
When my fumbling fingers aren't fast enough, Josh nudges them away to rip down his zipper and fish out his dick. He pushes it almost angrily into my palm, all the while raping my mouth and making these amazingly sexy growling noises deep in his throat.
His hand glides over my cock like it's been greased I'm so slick. So close. More pre-come wells from my eager prick when I take hold of his hard, silky-soft flesh.
Nice, I think, measuring his length with my fingers. Not as thick as mine, but quite a bit longer. Very nice.
So nice, in fact, it takes me a moment to realize that no hair brushes my knuckles. The skin above and below his prick is just as silky-soft as his prick.
No way.
I sit up and flip him over on his back. None of my other lovers have been shaved. A few trimmed. A few more went with hairless sacs and asses, but no one's ever gone completely ‘nude’ for me. I want to see.
I shimmy down his body, peeling his pants and underwear away as I go. His cock is pink: pale rose at the base and dark fuchsia at the crown. And, unlike my own ropy, blunt-headed club, Josh's dick is marble-smooth with a dramatic, wickedly flared glans. Straight and slender, it seems more like a carving than the real thing. An attractive, silky-soft, silky-smooth, cock sculpture, done up in floral hues.
Jeez, even his prick is sophisticated-looking.
I duck my head to tickle my tongue along that wonderfully flared head. Josh sighs and lets his legs fall apart. The pink star of his asshole winks at me, so pretty I can't resist taking a moment to worship it, too. He makes an inarticulate ‘ungh’ sound and lifts his legs higher, out of my way. His fingers spasm on my skull as my tongue plunders his hole.
"Fuck, yeah,” he groans, humping my face with an abandon that makes my dick drool and jerk. I lift my hips away from the floor, removing temptation. I don't think I've ever been this close without tipping over, but I'm not going to come until I'm inside that perfect body of his. I'm not.
To hurry things along, I force two fingers in beside my tongue, probably before he's ready. With my free hand, I cup and squeeze his plump, smooth balls, attempting to distract him from any discomfort.
"Fuck!” he cries. I spread him wide. My tongue burrows even deeper.
Josh's body contorts. “Oh, God, I'm gonna—"
Already?
It's nice to know he's on a hair trigger, too. Fair's fair, after all. Still, he's not allowed to come ‘til I'm in his body, either.
I leave his ass to lick up his shaft, his stomach and chest. When I reach his left nipple I gnaw on it. I can feel his heart gallop.
"Carl,” Josh gasps. “Please!"
"Condoms?” I raise my head to ask.
He points to the night table where I see a string of foil packets and a tiny bottle of clear liquid. I rise with him still in my arms.
Josh looks taken aback. Then amused. His cheeks dimple in a grin. “Quite the behemoth, aren't you?"
I'm so intent on getting a condom on that I don't bother trying to come up with a witty rejoinder. Anyway, he's right; I am a behemoth compared to him. Bracing his body against the wall, I grab a silver packet and bring it to my teeth. Josh tightens his legs around my waist.
"Allow me,” he says, taking the slippery latex sheath. He reaches between us to dress me, then leans sideways, grabs the lube, and drizzles a huge dollop on my cock. “I want you to fuck me just like this.” Josh's voice is quivering again as he lowers himself onto my shaft. “Up against the wall,” Josh continues. “Hard as you can. And—” A grimace of pleasure once I'm seated as deep as I can go. His internal muscles spasm. My cock judders in response.
"And?” I pant, struggling to keep still, giving him time to adjust.
"And I don't want my feet to touch the floor even once."
Ahhhh. “Not a problem, babe,” I say.
I take hold of his hips, lifting him until just my cock head remains trapped inside. My arm muscles bulge. Josh's mouth falls open. He yanks my head forward, shoving my face into his throat. The back of his skull hits the wall when I sink my teeth into his collarbone and slam him down at the same time.
Josh yelps. His internal muscles clench.
I lift him again. Drop him again. And again. And again. Josh hollers every time I hilt. Sweat beads on my skin as I fight off my orgasm.
Come, you sexy little bastard. Hurry up and come!
Someone bangs on the plaster separating our room from theirs.
"Oh, God,” Josh moans. His hands tighten in my hair.
I bite him again, noticing how purple my first mark looks on his creamy white skin. He's going to be covered in bruises tomorrow. Bruises I gave him. The thought makes me thrust that much harder.
Josh's fingers dig into my scalp, tearing hair and skin. I rip his hands off my head. Slam his wrists against the wall.
"Squeeze,” he moans. His head thrashes. His hips churn. “Fuck, Carl, I'm gonna come so hard!"
I glance down. His cock is cherry red, leaking fat liquid drops all over my stomach. It's so ready to blow it looks pissed off.
I squeeze his wrists hard enough to leave my mark there, too
, and crush him into the wall. “Do it,” I say, biting his bottom lip, tasting blood. “Come."
Josh's back stiffens, every perfect muscle in his body straining. The groan he lets loose is the sexiest thing I've ever heard, a long, drawn out affair that starts low in his chest and rises to a desperate-sounding wail.
His sphincter clamps down.
Hot jizz splashes my chin
And that's me done.
The banging on the wall works counterpoint to the banging of my hips. “Holy shit!” I cry, as the pulses of my climax join his.
Quite abruptly, I find myself unable to support both our weight. When we slide down the wall, I note that his feet touch the floor a second before my knees do. He doesn't seem to notice.
The pleasurable paroxysms are slow to wane. It's like riding out the aftermath of a hurricane. “Holy shit,” I mumble again, resting my cheek on his sweat-slick shoulder. “That was amazing."
Josh chuckles and strokes my back, a casual, wonderfully intimate gesture. His chin is on my head; it moves up and down as he says, “My feet touched the ground, babe. You owe me a forfeit."
* * * *
Lazing across from me in the two-person Jacuzzi tub, his foot between my legs, Josh says, “So how come you never finished school? I hear you were set to graduate top of the class."
I've been grooving to the feel of his toes on my sac, drifting in the land of satiation. My head snaps forward at his out-of-the-blue inquiry. “And where'd you hear that?"
His smile is sly. “I have my resources."
"You must have.” Resources better than Google, I would guess. I scowl at the thought.
Josh sloshes forward and takes my face between his hands. “Don't be angry". His thumbs stroke my temples. “I was curious about you. That's all. I asked around and found out you used to be a student. From there, it wasn't too hard to dig up Rich Sinfield. A few drinks, a random comment on the sexiness of your bod, and the guy wouldn't shut up."
I can only imagine the expression I'm wearing. Richie was one of my old gang. He's the worst for not being able to look me in the eyes anymore.
"What'd he say?” I ask. Growl, really.
Josh crawls into my lap. His arms slide around my waist and his naked little bum slips across my cock.
"What did he say?” I ask again, my tone more mellow.
"He said you're one of the smartest guys he's ever met. But when your mom died..."
I wait for the rest. Josh isn't forthcoming. “When my mom died?"
He sighs. “Rich said it was like you turned into another person. Started drinking. Quit studying. Threatened the life of your physics partner?"
Josh studies me, waiting for my reaction, I suppose.
Now, I sigh. And nod. “I fucked up. I could have killed that kid. I had him up against the wall by his goddamn throat and I remember thinking it would be so fucking easy to just snap..."
My words trail off as I realize that my isolation at Westenvale might, just might come with a wee dose of personal culpability. So much for my great big brain. “I was a mess, Josh,” I finish lamely. “What can I say? She was all I had."
"I'm sorry.” He glances down, but then almost immediately looks up again. “Have you looked into having your scholarship reinstated? Under the circumstances, I'm s—"
"There's no point. I had my shot and I blew it. End of story."
"But you haven't even—"
"Enough, Josh.” I push him off me and stand up.
At first, his expression is hard to read. An odd gleam marks his eyes. Then he smiles, wide and wicked, the fission of unease I feel dispelled.
"Alright,” he says. “Sorry. Sometimes I'm too nosy for my own damn good.” Josh rises and hops out of the bath, all traces of languor gone from his fine, smooth limbs. The sight of him naked and dripping chases any lingering annoyance right out of my head.
"Well, I'm ready for round two,” he says, stepping past me, his hand skimming my cock as he does. How ‘bout you?"
* * * *
"It's pretty much gone numb” Laughter lurks in my voice. His tongue doesn't stop. It keeps going round and round on my nipple. Round and round and round.
The second time was just as good as the first. Maybe better. Josh rode me hard and put me away wet. No more was said about my truncated school career.
"Pretty much?” He lifts his head to ask.
I pet his hair; it's a tangled mess, sticking out every which way. Fucking adorable. His tongue darts out again. A sluggish ribbon of heat flows from my nipple to my cock. “How ‘bout now?” he asks, catching the tiny nub between his teeth and flicking his tongue over it. Another curl of heat—not so lazy.
I can't really feel his mouth, per se; it's more of an all-encompassing erotic haze radiating out from where his teeth and tongue touch me. “Jesus."
"My first boyfriend,” Josh says between nibbles, “had a thing for my nipples. Wouldn't leave them alone."
"They're very ... ahh ... nice."
He's rolling my balls in his hand. I'd thought for sure I was done, but my prick seems to have other ideas. It flexes in pleasure.
"Thanks,” Josh says with a chuckle. Nipping, sucking. Rolling, squeezing.
My back bows. There's a crinkly sound, a subdued click, and then his long, slender finger is creeping inside my asshole.
"He used to suck on them until they were practically dead—until I could hardly feel them,” Josh goes on, ignoring my gasp.
"Mmmm.” That's the best I can do by way of a reply.
"Funny thing is,” Josh says, finger-fucking me with deep, lazy strokes. “When he did that, I used to experience these kind of all-over, full-body orgasms. Very tantric."
"Hmmm.” Is that another finger? God, who cares? Like Lazarus, my cock has risen again.
Josh's voice drops an octave. “I used to love to be fucked while he licked my nips numb."
I freeze. His two fingers are turning, spreading, stretching. “Josh—"
He shifts upward, still plowing my hole. “Let me fuck you, Carl,” he whispers, just above my lips.
"Is this your forfeit, then?” My voice is just as hushed as his.
"If you like.” He presses butterfly kisses to my mouth. One hand tweaks my over-sensitized nipple. The other continues to torment my ass. “Please, Carl.” Another soft kiss. “Please, baby."
"I..."
He leans back, his expression hopeful.
Who could resist that beautiful face, those beautiful eyes? Not me, it would appear.
"Alright,” I say. It's been, like, a thousand years since I bottomed, but what the hell, right?
There's no segue. As soon as the word leaves my lips, his fingers desert me and his prick takes position.
"Condom.” I push at his chest.
He takes my hand off his pec and drops it to his cock—his latex sheathed, pre-lubed cock.
"You're such an arrogant asshole,” I say, but I'm laughing.
"You love it."
Yeah, I'm beginning to.
Rather than dive right in—which is what I'm expecting and what I've braced for—he lowers his mouth to my nipple once more. He's doesn't move his hips, just bites and licks. Round and round. I end up making that first move. It's too damn hard to remain still. My hips lift.
Josh moans.
I sheathe him a tiny bit more. There's a fullness, a stretch, but no pain.
"We good?” he asks. His body quivers with the desire to ram home; how well I know it. His resistance is admirable but unnecessary.
"Just fine."
His relief is obvious in the great big smile he gives me and I realize a funny thing: for the first time in a long time, I'm happy. Making him happy makes me happy. How ‘bout that? “So, you planning on fucking me anytime soon, sweetheart?” I wrap my arms around his waist, tugging him closer.
"I'm gonna fuck you so good, you're gonna forget every other guy you've ever been with."
I laugh. That's a misquote—and grammatically incorrect,
besides—but I still like his version better.
Josh slides home. My mouth opens on a comeback, or perhaps a moan.
There's a loud knock on the door.
"Room service."
I grimace. “Did you—"
Josh drops his head to my shoulder and groans. “Yeah, I ordered a snack when you were in the bathroom."
"Hang on,” he calls. To me he says, “Don't you move an inch now.” Then he's gone, out of my body and off the bed. Jerk takes the sheet with him.
I scramble to grab the comforter, which has slipped to the floor, lobbing a pillow at his head in the process. Josh sniggers and reaches for the door handle. As soon as he turns it, the door slams back into the wall.
"Christ! Get some fucking clothes on,” an older, more muscular version of Josh yells as he storms into the room.
"Hello, Collin,” Josh says, the smile gone from his face. In its place, he wears an expression of aloof disdain. “Lovely to see you, as always.” He's a cool one, that's for sure, the essence of grace and poise wearing nothing but a hotel sheet.
Collin takes in the room, the mussed bedding ... me. He sneers.
Two fellows, even bigger than Josh's brother, crowd in behind him. Silent in their thousand dollar suits, the men are a massive, stoic threat, like walking Easter Island statues. I give up trying to grab the edge of the comforter and bounce to my feet, a decorative pillow held in front of my crotch. “Hey! What's the—"
Josh raises a placating hand my way and I stutter into silence.
Collin doesn't deign to look at me again. “Dad says to bring your perverted ass home,” he says, grabbing his brother's upper arm in a nasty grip. More bruises for Josh. These ones piss me off! “He got a tip from some fuckin’ cabbie that you were here slutting it up on his dime."
Goon number one picks up a pair of pants—mine, as it turns out—and slaps them into Josh's chest. Goon number two watches me. When I take an angry step forward he shakes his massive, bald head.
Violence simmers in the air.
"Don't,” Josh warns me. “It's not worth it.” He drops the sheet and pulls my jeans on. They're ridiculously large on his slender frame, but no one else seems to notice. “I'll be fine,” he says. “This isn't the first time my dad's completely lost his fucking mind."
Like Magnets, We Attract Page 6