Chapter 19 #3
“Right here,” was all I said.
Fuck, that felt good.
My legs parted further, taking up as much room as possible until I had both my knees knocking against the door and the console. It wasn’t enough by any means, but at least spread like this, I got a little relief from how cramped in my jeans I was.
Avery’s hand moved in a slow circle, kneading my balls through the material of my jeans in a way that had my cock twitching and squeezing out a little precum. The motion was slow and torturous, with not enough friction to really satisfy me but forced me to hold on for dear life nonetheless.
The urge to meet his hand half way and grind up into it had me gritting my teeth together.
I needed to take this slow. Scaring Avery off was the last thing I wanted to end up doing.
I snapped my eyes open again. Avery’s own staring back at me were dark in the dim lighting from the cars passing by, his pupils dilated and his mouth dropped open just enough that I could see his tongue pushing at the back of his teeth.
He was so close that all it would take was one shove up and our mouths would be smashed together.
“More,” I breathed out.
He paused and then moved his hand up to where the button of my jeans was, his fingers twisting around the front of it until it finally popped open.
I shoved the fly apart along with my jeans and underwear, needing to free myself or else I was going to burst. My cock was rigid, popping out to smack against my stomach with a hard slap that had my balls squeezing tightly.
I heard Avery gasp, his hand coming down to ghost over the line of my cock almost instantly.
“Fuck,” I ground out, causing him to pause.
Oh, no you don’t.
Grabbing his wrist again, I guided him right to where the line of my jeans ended. His fingers spread for me, curling around and cupping me in his hand. He didn’t move or so much as squeeze tight enough to give me any kind of relief.
Instead, he simply stared.
“Jesus, you’re pretty,” he murmured.
What the hell?
“I don’t know if I...” He trailed off, licking his lips again.
Honestly, I really didn’t care what he did so long as he did something. For now, we could start easy. Use this to get him familiar with someone else’s junk other than his own. Lucky for him, I was an excellent teacher.
“Like this,” I said, tightening my hold on his wrist and then guiding him once more.
He followed the motion, dragging his hand up the length of my cock until we reached the head. Simply seeing his hand on me had me leaking more, the erotic view turning me on way more than I thought it ever could.
To think that I’d had wet dreams about this very thing over ten years ago, fantasized about it more times than I ever cared to admit, and now we were here doing this.
There’d been times when we’d driven around in his car with just the two of us after school, freshly licensed and without any other cares in the world but getting as far away from our high school as humanly possible, that I’d had these same wild thoughts.
Wondering what would happen if I just reached across the distance between us and put my hand in his lap while he was driving down the highway.
How fast could he push his dad’s luxury car to go while I had my lips wrapped around his cock? Till he was fisting his hand in my air and pulling me up before he came.
Fifteen years was all it took for the fantasy to become a reality.
This was so much better than sitting in a stuffy restaurant while we argued over the dinner rolls and butter that would be the only thing to hold us over during the forty-five minute wait it took us to get our entrees.
The tendons in his hand flexed while he tightened his grip on me, causing my balls to squeeze again and drool more precum.
“Shit,” Avery mumbled, dragging his hand up over the head to collect the slick accumulated there and then moving back down my shaft again. “You like that, hmm?”
I arched my back, folded my body back into the seat. “Yeah...”
I liked this. Him keeping a hold of my jaw—practically pinning me against the headrest—while he moved his hand. I felt safe like this, trapped in the best way possible. I had nowhere else to go, nothing else to focus on but his hands on me.
“Up here.” I grabbed at his wrist again, pulling him back up to circle around the head and then drawing it back down, slicking my skin with my own fluids. “That’s it. Little faster.”
His hand curled around me, measured strokes pulling another moan out of me that had him cursing softly under his breath. I could feel the quick bursts of his breathing as he panted against my cheek, and gave into the need to pull him closer.
Avery’s forehead was hot against my own slightly clammy one.
His audible swallow was not lost on me and neither was the way he tilted his head, almost like he wanted to kiss me.
I fucking wanted him to but I needed this more—needed him right here with me and watching as I came undone from his touch.
“Fuck. I’m close,” I ground out.
He swallowed again, his voice rough. “Yeah?”
“Keep going. Just like that.” My entire body throbbed, the need to come so overwhelming that it was getting hard to focus on anything else.
Avery, despite his rather amateur knowledge in how to give another man a hand job, was doing fucking fantastic. He’d always been a quick learner, picking things up pretty much straight away when he actually tried.
This was no exception, apparently.
He was a goddamn natural.
What else was he capable of doing with those perfect hands of his?
His fist drew up to my head again, keeping it there while he stroked quickly in rapid bursts. The sensations sent shockwaves rolling down my spine, my body pitching back to arch out of my seat, still held down partially by his other hand that kept me from going anywhere.
The moan that left my lips was tortured sounding—caught between a plea and a demand.
“Avery,” was all that I could manage to choke out before exploding in his hand.
He moved his hand down me again, using long strokes that had me spilling all over his knuckles and making a total mess of us both.
I came for what felt like ages, until my body was empty, and then I slumped back into the seat behind me with a dazed feeling washing over me.
He buried his face in my neck, pressing his mouth against the column of my skin in a way that almost had me believing he was kissing the spot over and over again. My post orgasm bliss was apparently making me delirious.
Was it fucked up of me to like that he still had his hand wrapped tight around my dick?
I was already getting soft, however the firm hold he had me in was comforting in a weird way. Just like his hand on my face.
God, that was fucking good.
I wanted to stay like this forever. Damned our responsibilities and whatever else we’d have to go back to once we both sobered up and pulled apart from each other. This close intimacy felt so right and so damn good.
I was afraid for what reality would eventually bring. What regrets would follow once we could no longer ignore the fact that last night, and now tonight, weren’t just flukes—minute lapses in judgment that could easily be explained away by some haphazard excuse.
Something chimed in Avery’s car, causing the lights on his dashboard to flash. He slowly lifted his head to crane his neck back around to look at whatever notification popped up, a frown suddenly crossing his features.
“What?” I asked.
“Phone call.”
I was disappointed when he pulled away completely, letting me go in order to sit up and tap at the notification. His hand was still coated in me, glossy looking in the dim lighting of his car’s console.
When he retrieved his phone from the slot next to the cup holder, his eyes widened.
“Shit,” he muttered. “I gotta take this. She never calls this late.”
I was still fuzzy from the orgasm, my mind half gone while the other half was running on fumes. “She?”
“Carrie.”
“Who’s Carrie?” I said blearily.
“My ex-wife,” he clarified, and then pushed the door open to step outside and take the phone call. “Give me one sec.”