Chapter 13 #4
When he pulled back, grunting and wiping his mouth, the heat had already made his face look flushed and his eyes glassy. “No second thoughts,” he said, his voice raw. It was both a question and a pure observation meant to encourage me.
“Take off your boxers,” I said, a smile touching one side of my lips. I stepped away from the bookcase and circled around Harrison slowly, almost sharklike, as he turned his head around to follow me.
I stood a couple of feet behind him while he still knelt, torso leaning more to the shelf than away from it, small of his back curved inward, ass perched on his heels, and his toes planted onto the soft carpet covering the floor.
“I want to see you naked again,” I said.
Harrison moved his hands to his ass, hooked the thumbs inside the waistband, and pulled it slowly down.
His boxer briefs dragged over the curve of his ass, revealing smooth skin and the space between his cheeks until he rose a little and pulled his underwear to his knees. They stretched wide, his legs spread so I could see his balls hanging between his thighs.
Harrison rose just enough to slip his underwear over his knees and all the way back to his ankles while tension coiled in my chest. It had nothing to do with fear of going further with him. It had everything to do with my wanting to be good to him.
“How’s this?” he asked as he threw his underwear aside and planted his fists before him in the carpet, spreading his knees a little more there in front of me.
“Fucking beautiful,” I whispered, in awe as much because he really was that sexy as I was by the fact that he asked me such a question with the total confidence of someone who wanted to seduce me.
And I was seduced.
“You know where the stuff is,” he said. “I won’t move.”
My heart skipped a beat, then immediately hurried to catch up.
I could hear my erratic pulse flooding my ears as I walked a few steps back into his bedroom, opened his closet, pulled out the top drawer, and picked up his lube and condoms before returning to the living room, where he knelt on the floor, ready for me, waiting.
I stood inches away from him, watching the way he curved his back, the way the hair on his neck was cut so neatly, the way his shoulders were sculpted, and how his back widened and narrowed with every breath.
“Harrison,” I said, lowering myself to my knees behind him.
I dropped the stuff next to us and placed my hands on his hips, pulling him gently against me until my dick slid between his cheeks and our bodies pressed together, his ass grinding against my balls as my dick passed upward, trapped between his ass and my abdomen.
“Yeah?” he whispered. It wasn’t meant to be so seductive, yet it made me want him all the same.
“I…” My voice faltered. “I don’t want to hurt you,” I said. “You have to…tell me.”
Harrison moved his hips a little, rubbing himself against me in what was surprisingly reassuring. “You won’t hurt me, Taylor,” he said.
“Are you sure?” I asked, my breath shallow and heart beating like a steam locomotive in my chest.
“I’ll make sure you know how I feel,” Harrison said.
He rose slowly so that we knelt right against one another, his upper back leaning against my chest, his head moving to rest between my shoulder and head.
He lifted the lube off the floor as I wrapped my arms around his torso, hands gliding over his abs.
Harrison spilled some lube over his fingers, then took my right hand and made my fingers slick. “Go on,” he said softly to the smooth, romantic melody of “Us and Them” swirling around us. “Try it.”
My hand moved between us while I tightened my right arm around his chest and shoulders.
The warmth of his hole against my index finger wasn’t a surprise.
Somehow, I knew he would feel like this as I gently pressed my finger against him.
I could feel the change in tension, first rising, then fading, as my finger slipped into his body.
I could feel his chest rise against my left arm as he inhaled, held his breath, and exhaled slowly, my finger now well inside him.
He was slick already, his body running hot. His muscles were tense where I touched him, but his hole was relaxed and ready for me, welcoming me as I pushed my finger deeper into him and turned my wrist a little.
“How’s that?” I asked, my lips so near his ear.
“Perfect,” he said, voice taut with tension, straining. “Fuck, it’s perfect.”
I worked him slowly, carefully, with one finger, as he held on to my forearm with both hands, his shoulder blades pressed tightly against my chest, his ass pushing back against my hand, and his stomach thrust out as he curved his lower back inward.
Harrison moaned, his voice pitched higher than ever before that I’d heard, and it did something to me that I hadn’t expected.
Yes, it made me eager to pleasure him like nobody before, but it made me want to protect him, too.
To protect him from pain, from sadness, from betrayals, from disappointments.
His fingers tightened around my forearm. “I want more of you,” he said. “I want to feel you.”
I knew what he wanted. I knew, and I didn’t hesitate. My middle finger pressed against his hole as I pulled the first one out a little, then let both of them sink into Harrison’s body, stretching him and making his muscles tighten with tension.
His hole tightened around my fingers, and I stopped moving, holding my breath for a moment until I could feel him relax.
Then, inhaling again, I worked his hole loose and slick with two, then three fingers.
My other hand traveled down the length of Harrison’s torso to hold on to his dick, touching him freely and not even freaking out.
He was rock hard and wet with precum, throbbing in my hand just as his hole tightened and relaxed around my fingers.
He moved his hand between us and reached for my cock, holding it firmly and stroking it occasionally, just enough to drive me mad with lust.
My forearm burned, muscles exhausted as I worked him harder, and I buried my face in the crook of his neck, deeply inhaling the scent of his skin and sweat, kissing him, licking the length of his neck and the vein pulsing hard beneath the surface.
My tongue reached his ear, and I closed my teeth around its soft part, biting it hard and exhaling, my hand moving faster, harder, as Harrison thrust his hips back against me.
He grunted suddenly and pulled his head away, looking into my eyes. “You’re killing me, Taylor,” he said. “Killing me.”
I grinned, my fingers massaging his hole gently now.
“I want you to fuck me,” he said.
My confidence was a great deal higher after some serious foreplay.
He would tell me if I did something wrong.
But it was more than that. Touching him made me aware of what it felt like to be touched that way.
Fingering him made me feel what it would be like to be fingered just the same.
Stroking his dick felt like I was doing it to myself.
I could be one with him, feel what he felt, see what he saw, and do what he wanted me to do.
So I slipped on a condom and poured lube down the length of my dick before stroking myself.
Harrison closed his fists and planted them on the carpet again, kneeling before me, his ass slick and glistening with lube that spread over his skin.
I moved closer to Harrison, watching the planes of his broad back, the tapering waist, the round ass, and the beads of sweat that had collected along his spine.
He inhaled, rising a little, and waited for me to make a move.
Yet I stood there not because I didn’t want more but because he was so beautiful that I wanted to commit him to my memory and take the image to my grave.
I wanted to remember him like this forever and after.
I reached for my dick and pressed the tip gently against Harrison’s hole, giving him a moment to relax. Sensing the tension leave his muscles, I leaned in an inch, then an inch more.
He exhaled with a groan, hips moving forward and away from me.
The tension returned to the muscles in his back, but he swung his hips toward me and pressed himself so hard against my dick that I felt it probe and break some invisible, inconceivable barrier between us, and I sank into the warmth of his body with thunderous triumph.
I slapped both of my hands on his hips and held him as the sensation made my dick throb hard and in rapid succession.
With my fingers sinking achingly deep into Harrison’s waist, I pulled him back and let myself see how far I could go and how much he could take.
I led the way, but I was completely focused on Harrison’s body, on his muscles, on the response coming quietly from him.
I listened to him when he pulled back from me, and I let him set the pace anew, until I was so deep inside him that I could just wrap my arms around his torso and lift him up.
I needed to feel so much more of him. I needed all of him to touch me, to be pressed against me, and that was what I did.
I held him close, arms coiled tight so he couldn’t break from me even if he wanted to, and he lifted his hands to my forearms again, holding on to me as I let my hips do the work.
I fucked him slowly, reaching deep into him and making us both huff and moan.
His panting breaths were music to my ears, even as the speakers filled the room with the litany of moments and concepts and words, all of them eclipsed by the moon as the last song came to its end and the needle scratched the empty part of the record, the handle lifting and returning to its place.
My body moved with Harrison, totally synchronized, as sweat covered my skin and his, rubbing between his back and my front. I swung my hips harder, fucking him faster and searching for a line at which he would tell me to slow down.
Yet all I found was Harrison whispering and panting, saying, “Harder. Fuck me harder, Taylor.”