NOAH #2
I didn’t know if he read these thoughts from my eyes or if it was simply the next logical step, but Sawyer kept one hand over my crossed wrists while sliding the other between us. The palm of his hand felt my bulge and I nearly cried out with joy.
How many times had I imagined this?
And yet, my imagination had failed miserably each and every time.
The feeling was so much more packed with everything around us than I’d thought.
It wasn’t merely a hand touching my hard cock.
It was a hand, but also his breath on my face and his heartbeat over mine, and the classic rock in the background, and the way the subdued lights kissed his face.
The darkness of his eyes contracted against the glimmers of the lights reflected in them.
The beautiful almond shape his eyelids formed left me short of breath and the arch his hair made over his face turned him into a contemporary deity.
He was stunning in every way. And when he touched me, all these little thoughts converged until my lower back was arching in ecstasy and air was draining out of my lungs.
The ease with which he unbuckled my belt and undid my button and zipper pointed to a well honed skill. A trace of jealousy zapped me, quickly covered by an immense sense of triumph that it was me he was undressing this night.
Sawyer allowed my pants to spread open over my crotch, but he didn’t pull them down.
Instead, he pecked my lips, then sat up on my legs to undo all of the buttons on my shirt.
He was swift about it, fingers nimble and capable of doing intricate things with great ease.
I wondered what else he could do with those fingers and the thought almost embarrassed me.
It was as though my ability to feel any sense of shame was numbed by him kissing me so much.
As my torso bared, from the bottom button to the top, a glint of desire grew in Sawyer’s eyes.
He spread my shirt wide and bit his lip against smiling.
When the moment passed, he set his hands on my chest and dragged them down my torso.
“You need to show me your workout routine. It’s doing you wonders. ”
I almost laughed, thinking he was teasing me.
I was mostly flat, though the bench press Matt had forced me on broadened my chest and the ab coaster tightened my stomach.
But as Sawyer traced every inch of my bare skin, I realized he wasn’t kidding.
This pleased look on his face was nothing short of genuine.
The sexy keeper liked me.
“Let me see you,” I whispered, almost too nervous to ask, as though there was a chance he’d change his mind.
I needed to remind myself that there was little I could do to blow it so badly — at least in this part — to make him run away.
Whatever happened later, when the things I had no experience with began, would worry the Future Noah.
Sawyer did that thing with his lower lip, biting it and pulling it between his teeth.
It made my dick throb and eyebrows arch.
And when he started unbuttoning his shirt, I nearly lost it altogether.
As he did it, I realized I had never seen him shirtless.
At best, I had been stealing glimpses of his stomach when his tops pulled up by chance.
But now, as he bared his torso, I placed every inch of him into my long-term memory.
He shrugged his shirt off, then unbuckled his belt and pulled it out of his pants, throwing both items on the floor behind him. One of his eyebrows quirked up. “Wanna touch me?”
“Fuck yeah,” I breathed, thankful that he could read my face so well.
He was chiseled, although thin for an athlete.
Each muscle on his body was carved with precision, flowing smoothly from one to the next.
His figure was a work of art and Sawyer was the artist. Each tattoo on his body screamed ‘bad boy.’ The large, gothic “Burn in Hell” was inked on his neck.
A spiderweb covered one of his pecs and a blade seemingly sank into his heart.
He was a canvas of edgy artwork. And when my fingertips grazed them, I blurted, “Did it hurt?” The fascination that I felt showed itself on Sawyer’s face.
“Some hurt,” he said simply. “But it was worth it.” He covered my hands with his and pressed his own body harder, letting me get the full feel of his muscles and the relief of his figure. He dragged my hands from his collarbones all the way to his waist, then met my gaze. “Did that feel good?”
My throbbing cock answered the question for me.
“You can do whatever you want,” he said, releasing my hands and starting to touch my abdomen. His hands felt their way to my neck. “I’ll tell you if I don’t like it.” His words were determined, albeit softened for the mood of the moment. “And you have to tell me if you don’t like something, too.”
I nodded.
“Promise.” It was a crisp request that allowed for no debate.
I wondered why he insisted so much, but thought better than to discuss it. “I promise. I’ll tell you.”
“Good.” And as soon as he said the words, he shifted and laid on top of me. His bare torso kissed mine while I let my hands follow the sides of his ribcage, then travel to his upper back, and trace his spine all the way down to the edge of his pants.
He was moving steadily, but perpetually.
His cock, still trapped behind his pants, was pressing and pulling back from mine.
The movements caught and pulled my pants a little, baring the tent of my underwear pitched by my merciless erection.
Gasps and moans left my open mouth when Sawyer kissed my neck.
He’d told me I could try anything I wanted, but a huge obstacle in that was my conscious mind.
I feared being told he disliked something.
I feared him pulling back from me. But I was also dying to rest my hand on his bulge.
I was desperate to slide it inside his pants and feel it throb over his underwear.
He kissed me softly down the length of my neck and along my collarbones, then up again to nibble on my earlobe.
It made my body tingle and wiggle and empowered me to try things out.
There were so many things that I wished to do.
What would he taste like on my tongue? What would his lips around me feel like?
Was he hairy or smooth? Would he let me suck his balls like I’d seen in porn?
Would he rim me and finger me if I asked?
Or was that something people never did in real life?
I hadn’t even realized that my right hand was moving along the edge of his pants until I felt it slide between us. “Let me hold you,” I whispered.
“Fuck yes,” he said, practically into my ear.
Sawyer rolled off of me and onto his side, undoing the button and zipper on his pants and pulled them down a little to bare the big bulge in his blue boxer-briefs.
I held my breath as Sawyer moved his hand away and waited.
My tongue moved over my lips as saliva filled my mouth and I swallowed.
Turning to my right side to face him completely, I set my left hand on the middle of his chest and darted my eyes between his face and his crotch.
When I breathed again, air flowed through my parted lips.
I followed the center of his torso down to his underwear.
And when I reached the edge, there was no turning back. My hand gently wrapped around the thickness that stretched the blue fabric thin. Sawyer throbbed in my hand. “That feels so good,” he said.
I was still gentle, almost fearfully so, as I stroked him.
“You can go harder,” he said, moving his hand toward me to mimic what I was doing to him.
When he set his hand on my bulge, I wanted to cry out again.
Chills rose along my spine and I held my breath.
My hips thrust forward by instinct, independent of my brain, and Sawyer gripped me firmly, applying pressure that forced my eyebrows to contort and lips to part wider.
A strangled moan dragged through my throat and Sawyer grinned. “Like that?”
I nodded. It was painful in an odd, deeply pleasurable way. It wasn’t even pain, but the pressure and the excruciating knowledge that I wanted more. I wanted him to slide his fist over my cock, free of my underwear.
I bit down on my lip hard and returned the favor. Sawyer frowned and stared into my eyes, stroking me firmly and wincing whenever his cock pulsed in my hand.
“Do you wanna take that off?” he asked.
I didn’t know which part of my clothes he meant.
I still wore my shirt, pants, and boxer-briefs with bananas stamped on them.
So when I nodded, he released me to undress and I took a piece of clothing off one after the other.
He watched me toss my pants off the bed, followed by my shirt.
I then hooked my thumbs inside my underwear and pulled them over my cock and all the way down.
My heart raced twice as fast when my underwear fell off the bed.
I was naked in front of a guy. In my bed.
In my room. And his eyes were glowing with desire.
He looked at my thick cock and swollen balls like it was all he wanted.
He pressed his hand on my belly and dragged it all the way down until he felt the smoothness of freshly shaved skin around the base of my cock.
When I’d told him I’d spent the afternoon getting ready, I hadn’t exaggerated. And when he inhaled through his teeth while feeling the smoothly shaved skin of my legs, I knew he appreciated my efforts.
His hand wrapped around the base of my cock and the fit of pulsing overtook me.
Every little nerve ending in my body was aflame.
I leaned in, lying on my side, and kissed him while running a hand through his hair.
I had no idea where the thought came from, but I grabbed a fistful of hair on the back of his head and gripped it tightly, causing a smirk to stretch his lips.