13. Ben
13
Ben
I really enjoy meeting one of Trey’s colleagues. He doesn’t talk about his internship work very much, nor does he really say anything about his paying job and volunteer work at the shelter. I’m not sure if this is because he assumes I’m not interested, if he’s cautious about clients’ privacy, or if he simply doesn’t like to talk about work outside of work.
When we talk at home I don’t want to risk making him uncomfortable, so I’ve always been very careful to ask non-specific questions. He usually gives brief, non-specific answers, and we both wind up saying very little at all.
I am curious, though.
What does he do at the shelter? How did he start volunteering there? What brought him to study psychology? And further, where had he grown up? I know he came from Denver, but had he always lived there? Why was he in Fort Collins now? Was it just for school? Would he stay when he got his doctorate? Did he want the job his supervisor seemed to think he should have once he was finished with his schooling?
I realize that I’m getting a little carried away, and I make an effort to rein in my internal dialogue.
We’ve spent lots of time together, but we’ve never really talked about him before, at least anything deeper than his favorite food or how he loves to smother his baked potatoes in enough butter and sour cream that I can feel it in my arteries. Getting dressed up tonight and eating and dancing with him has been incredible. Every time he put his arms around me on the dance floor, I wanted to melt into him and stay there forever.
I really want to get to know all the aspects of him.
“So you’re not drinking?” I ask once we are alone again. “Is that a work requirement?”
Trey shakes his head. “No, it’s not a work requirement,” he says. He pauses, then indicates the room at large. “I’ll explain why if you want to hear it, but not here. Okay?”
I frown, worried that I’ve crossed a line, but I nod. “Sure, if you want to tell me. I don’t mean to pry.”
“We’ll talk about it at home, I promise.” He smiles reassuringly at me. “I’m pretty sure I need to tell you all about it anyway.”
The second my champagne is gone, Trey asks me to dance again. As the night has gotten later, the music has tended more and more toward slower, more romantic numbers. I lose track of time, swaying on the floor, dancing closer and closer. When they stop playing and bring the lights up slightly to announce the silent auction winners, it feels like a spell breaking. We stand hand in hand, listening to the announcements and thank yous. I don’t even want to talk. I just want to hang on to the incredible closeness I feel to Trey right now. I won the weighted blanket package, as I was hoping to. It’s a very nice one. The MC says we can pick the prizes up on our way out the door.
When the announcements are over, Trey brings me back to the table so he can take care of a few responsibilities before we head home. I snag another glass of champagne and enjoy the bubbly, glowy feeling this night has given me. I’ve been half-hard most of the night, and now that I have a second to think, I start to wonder what’ll happen when we get home. Going out in public together as a couple and not having anyone give us a second glance has made the age difference lose some of its importance in my head. I still can’t really imagine what Trey might see in me, but the way he danced with me has given me hope. I’m pretty sure that he was hard a couple of the times I brushed against him.
I’m fantasizing about his hard dick when he comes back to the table. “Are you ready to go?” he asks, and I jump in my seat.
He’d come up from behind, so I didn’t see him coming. I can feel the heat rolling over my face. Hopefully, he can’t read my mind. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
“Let’s collect your winnings and get out of here,” he says. He offers me a hand up and then tucks me under his arm for the walk to the prize table. The way he’s touching me isn’t doing anything to dispel my fantasies.
The drive home is mostly quiet. Trey drives since I had champagne, and I end up riding most of the way with my hands twisted in my lap to keep them from drifting over to him. I need to rein this in before I embarrass myself. He seems lost in thought, and I don’t even know how to go about finding out if he might be interested in something more with me.
When we arrive home, Trey helps bring my treasures inside. We set them on the kitchen bar, and he turns and rests his hand on my upper arms. He searches my face, but I have no idea what he’s looking for.
“Thank you for going with me. I appreciate it so much,” he says, his voice deep and soft. It rolls down my spine hotter than anything I’ve ever experienced, and I shiver with arousal. I know my reaction is written all over my face. There’s no way he can miss it as closely as he’s watching me. I’m mortified for a second, but then Trey’s mouth is on mine, and he’s kissing me like he can’t get enough.
A rough groan rips from me when he releases my mouth. “Okay?” he asks, searching my face, and I nod frantically, unable to speak. “Good,” he says, and he kisses me again.
I’ve never felt a kiss like this, and I understand now why Mitch and Sherri went back to the house after their vow exchange. I want Trey more than anything, more than air . I need him.
When he releases my mouth the second time, I follow without thought, and he stops me with his hands on my chest. “Ben, tell me that you know what is happening here, and you are okay with it.”
I nod hard. Gathering words takes some effort, but I manage. “I am completely and totally okay with it. Please, Trey.”
Trey groans softly and pulls me to the sofa.
He drops down and pulls me onto his lap, pressing our dicks together while he kneads my ass through my suit pants and teases my tongue with his. He slides my suit coat down my arms and throws it over the arm of the couch. He shrugs his off, too, and then there’s only thin cotton between our chests. I can feel the heat radiating from him. It feels like his hands are all over me all at once, and it’s overwhelming and completely intoxicating. I want to touch him everywhere in return. “Please,” I gasp when he trails his lips down my jaw, nipping here and there. The sharper rasp of his teeth interspersed with his soft lips sends tingles through me.
Trey laughs breathlessly. “If you keep begging me like that, this is gonna go really fast.”
I love the idea that I’m having an effect on him. I am entirely along for the ride here, all I know for sure is I want whatever it is that Trey wants to give me. His hands on my ass feel really amazing, and his lips do too. I want more, so I kiss him again. He hums in satisfaction against my mouth, and I lick lightly, asking for admittance. He opens for me and works his hand down between us, cupping my groin. “Hm?” he asks, pulling back enough to look me in the eye.
“Yes, absolutely,” I say, even though I’m not entirely certain what I just consented to. I don’t care. I want it. Whatever it is, I want him. His hand feels so good, and when he strokes me with his thumb, I rock forward instinctively and gasp.
“Does that feel good?” Trey asks, voice deep against my ear. “Would it feel even better if I…” He catches the pull of my zipper and slides it down slowly. I pant with indecision, torn between rocking against him and waiting to see what he’s going to do next.
The button goes once the zip is down, and he toys with me, kissing me and stroking my erection with the very tips of his fingers. My boxer briefs are still in the way of skin-to-skin contact, and I want him to find the fly so bad.
“You’re so patient, aren’t you?” Trey asks, breath tickling my neck as he murmurs in my ear. “Waiting for me to do whatever I want? Waiting for whatever it is that I’ll do to you? You’re ready for anything, aren’t you?”
I whimper. He is right. I probably haven’t even conceived of everything Trey might want to do, but right now, I would agree to any of it, all of it. “Please, Trey, I want you–” I say, breaking off to swallow and collect myself at least a little. “I want you to touch me, and I want to touch you. You’re so gorgeous. I thought so the first time I laid eyes on you. I want to touch you. I’ve… I’ve imagined touching you.”
Trey’s brows went up, and he smirked just a little. “Oh? Imagined touching me where Ben?”
I look down, taking in his torso. He’s still fully dressed, dress shirt and slacks still buttoned. The contrast to my open pants is arousing, and as I watch, he tucks the waistband of my underwear behind my balls and pulls my dick from my pants to stroke me, making my head drop to his shoulder as I moan.
“Did you imagine me touching you?” Trey asks. “Did you imagine me holding you on my lap and jerking you off while you watched my hand slide up and down your dick? Did you imagine me telling you how good you were while you let me do this to you, Ben? Did you imagine me whispering how sexy you are with your silver hair and kind eyes, how I wanted to use your mouth as I petted your pretty hair and said you’re doing so well?”
By the time Trey finished talking, my chest was heaving, the sweet, hot sensation of my release building low in my body. “Yes, please fuck yes, that…” I trail off, gasping, the slow pace of his fist on my dick a delicious focal point for the inferno his words built inside me.
“Yes? All of that? I know you love it when I tell you how good you are,” Trey says. “And you are. You’re such a wonderful man, Ben, and so sexy. One day I’m going to suck you off so slowly that you beg me to let you come, baby, and just before you do, I’m going to tell you how gorgeous you are when you come. Show me how pretty you are when you come, baby. Show me.”
My body convulses violently, each slow pull of Trey’s hand pulling a new spasm through me and coating his shirtfront with the evidence of my enjoyment.
I collapse against his chest when I’m finished, and he puts his arms around me, kissing the top of my head. “So good for me,” he whispers, and I shiver.
When the shaking stops, I sit up and look at him, and I feel the blood rush to my face. He’s coated in my spunk, streams of it making his dress shirt see-through. He looks down at himself, then grins at me. “Good job,” he says.
“Oh my god,” I groan in embarrassment, then it’s forgotten when I realize he hasn’t finished yet. Suddenly the fantasies of earlier tonight have come to life. “Oh… Do you– Can I–?”
He shifts his hip, and oh, yes, he’s still hard– Holy shit, he’s big!
It feels like he can read my thoughts when he chuckles. “I’d love a hand if you’re comfortable,” he says. “No pressure.”
I laugh a little as well. “I think there’s probably quite a bit of pressure,” I tease, sitting back enough to work his pants open. He groans when I get him out and weigh him in my palm. Big hands, big feet, big…
I brace myself on his shoulder to give myself enough room to work, kissing him again as I stroke. I may not have done this to anyone else, but even I know how to jack off. His hips shift under me, and we find the rhythm that seems to work for him. I alternate between kissing him and watching his face in awe while I work him just like I imagined. His breathing grows harsh, and I pull back slightly to marvel at the sight of him erupting all over my hand. Just seeing it has my own dick twitching valiantly. I sigh in satisfaction, dropping my head to his shoulder.
Trey reaches over and cradles my face, lifting me up and pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “So good,” he murmurs and holds me against him while we both catch our breath.