Chapter 20 Callum #2
He pulls off me, chucking gently and swatting my shoulder with the front of his hand. He says something to me, and I don't respond, instead trying to make sense of what just happened.
The shower turning on snaps me out of my unproductive speculating, and I shake my head.
I got real close to Ian, who has ridiculous sex appeal even when he’s sweaty. That's why I got aroused. Palming myself, I will him to hurry up and shower faster, because damn, I'm dying to get my hands on his cock and make him feel good.
Look at me, getting this comfortable with sex.
I snort. My parents would be fucking pissed, and I consider that a good thing. Mom always told me that no woman would ever be good enough for her pure, precious son, but the joke’s on her since I’m exploiting the hell out of the gay loophole.
Not that I need a loophole in the first place.
I banish all thoughts of my parents from my brain. I'm not trying to kill my boner.
Ian turns the water off after a few minutes, so I make my way to the bedroom and slip under the covers to wait. The bathroom door opens, there are footsteps in the hallway, and then he strides in, his hair damp and a towel fastened above his waist.
There’s no way I’ll ever get tired of seeing him without a shirt.
His compact body with all its sport-toned muscles, covered with smooth, tanned skin, keeps my attention like nothing else.
He lets out a quiet snort, and I lift my eyes to his face, taking in his smile and realizing that I’m wearing one myself, too.
“Such a horndog, this one,” he teases, and I don’t miss the predictable appearance of a firm, growing lump underneath the towel.
“Come here. Let's cuddle for a bit,” I say, doing my best to ignore the pressure in my balls.
“Sounds wholesome.” Ian drops the towel and joins me in his bed.
This time, I decide to change things up by wrapping my arms around him instead. He nuzzles into me, pressing his firm ass into my crotch and making me hiss out a cuss.
“You’re making it a little hard to be wholesome,” I mutter.
“That’s kind of the point. I’ve been craving you ever since I left this morning.”
We both chuckle, and I draw in a deep breath behind Ian’s neck. If not being wholesome is the point, I can get behind that.
I clasp his erection and give it a slow stroke.
“Callum,” he says, his voice deep and husky. “What are you—”
“Shh. Let me do this.”
Ian pulses in my hand as soon as I shush him, and I squeeze the tip of his dick. I dig my fingers into the underside of his shaft, which is enough to make him squirm. The movement knocks my hand away, so I slide my other arm under his neck and wrap around his chest to hold him in place.
“Try to make this easier for me,” I tease.
Ian nods, and I resume my slow strokes, pressing his warm body into mine as his breaths grow deeper.
“Fuck, Callum.” He hums a low, satisfied noise. “You’re amazing.”
I’m already warm from his body heat and the sheer intensity of what I’m doing to him, and his flattery ramps it up even more. My hard-on jumps against his ass, and he lets out a surprised huff.
“Wait, do you have a praise kink?” Ian asks.
I stop stroking. “A what?”
He groans, not answering me. “Keep going, Callum. You’re doing so well.”
Feeling bolder, I slide my free hand down to tug on his balls, and he yelps out a desperate “fuck yes” when I resume stroking.
“You’re so good at this,” he pants. “Please don’t stop.”
As soon as he says that, I get harder, pressing into Ian’s leg.
He chuckles. “Oh yeah, you do have a thing for compliments.”
Heat floods my cheeks. This is a consideration for when I don’t have a quivering, horned-up guy in my arms.
I speed up, gliding the skin up and down Ian’s dick, relishing the sounds of his breaths getting heavier and raspier.
He leaks generously into my hand, and unable to help myself, I bend my head down to sink my teeth into his shoulder blades.
The way he moans when I do that is downright addictive, and for a second, I wonder if that by itself is enough to make me come.
He clenches his muscles, snapping my attention back to him, and thrusts up into my hand. “I’m close. Cal, I’m gonna—” His voice breaks on a gasp. “I’m gonna come.”
I tighten my grip, not slowing down. “You’ll mess up the sheets,” I tease.
“Fuck! I don’t care!” Ian’s voice comes out as a hoarse groan. “I need to bust. Please don’t stop.”
Alright, then.
He throbs in my hand as I speed up, squeezing gently at the head before releasing on the downstroke. Ian sucks in a breath, convulsing, before letting it out in a gravelly moan.
And then he shoots. Oh boy, he shoots. All over my hands and onto the bed. His neck falls back, pressing his head into my chest while his body shudders.
“Oh my god, that was so good,” he says, rolling toward me and onto his back.
I cock an eyebrow at him. “But I didn’t even blow you.”
“So? There’s a lot to love about a good handjob—they fucking rule.” Ian brings a hand to my cock and runs his fingers along it. “How about I give you one?” He tops that offer off with an effortless wink, removing my ability to speak properly.
I nod instead.
“Here, let’s move to the other end of the bed,” he suggests, eyeing his cum on the sheets. “That right there wasn’t one of my best ideas.”
I shrug, smirking. “I don’t know. It was hot.”
“I’ll show you hot,” he mutters. “Lie on your back and put your hands behind your head. Get real comfy.”
I comply.
He proceeds to reach down and wrap around my shaft, thumbing the underside. “Lube or dry?”
“I…fuck, usually use lube.” My reply is chopped up by spikes of bliss coursing through my body.
Ian stretches an arm over to the nightstand and pulls out a clear bottle, cracking it open and pouring a dollop of its contents into his right hand. He rubs the wetness around for a few seconds, the sound making my breath catch with anticipation.
After withdrawing his other hand, he fixes me with a sly little smile before leaning down to plant a kiss on my lips while slicking his wet palm along my engorged length, magnifying the delicious sensations in my groin tenfold.
I grunt out as he pulls back, and the noise tightens into a sharp exclamation when he brings his other hand into the mix, stimulating my entire dick all at once with perfect, gentle strokes.
Every single time Ian gets his hands on me, my brain turns to mush. It hasn’t been long since we started getting physical, and he already has the keys to my body. He can have them.
And right when I think I'm already in the depths of this lubed-up massage from heaven, he starts twisting while still pumping me hard. Each hand moves in opposite directions, yanking a strangled, desperate cry out from my throat.
“Oh, you like that, don't you?” His teasing voice floats through the air, gentle and caring like he isn't dragging me through the first and best handjob of my life.
I nod furiously and moan, unable to get any real words out. He’s right—handjobs fucking rule.
Ian says something that I'm too aroused to register, and as soon as the husky sound of his voice hits my eardrums, it's over for me.
My body convulses under his touch, and I yell as my release sprays out onto my stomach.
He tightens his grip, squeezing every last drop of my orgasm out before leaning down to kiss my tingling lips.
“You're so hot when you come,” he murmurs, pulling back.
My eyes are still closed, but I feel him wiping me clean with something damp.
Something unfamiliar washes over me, and I stick my arm out to wrap around Ian’s shoulders, pulling him down onto my chest. He sighs, the quiet, content noise making both of us relax even more, and we exist like that in silence for a few minutes.
“So,” he says, and I blink the static in my brain away. “Now that we can both think straight, I’ve been meaning to ask: do you have plans for spring break?”
“No. Do you?” I try to keep the nerves from showing on my face and making me look like a jerk. Deep down, I’d love to spend the week with Ian, but if he wants to see his parents, go south with friends, or whatever, who am I to stop him?
“Yeah, we should go to my family's cabin in Maine,” he says. “They're working, so it'll just be us.”
“You sure you don't want to go somewhere with your friends?”
Ian waves me off. “I'm sure. I want to chill with you.”
My heart skips. Biting my tongue how I am right now isn't too healthy, but I have to stop myself from questioning him out of instinct. Again. It's new, someone actually wanting to spend time with me, and while I'm not used to it, I could be. I want to be.
“That sounds so fun,” I say.
Ian flashes a cheeky smile at me, one that I couldn't misinterpret if I tried. “Oh, it will be.” He reaches out to trail his fingers along my leg, the touch jolting me to full consciousness.
And then of course, my messy brain has to start overthinking.
I won't lie, I'm loving the physical stuff we’re doing, but I want more. I could be getting ahead of myself. Still, Ian isn’t playing games or hiding his feelings—he’s giving me all the affection I never had and always craved, and there’s no way to deny that.
We went out for the first time yesterday. Am I allowed to ask for more, this soon?
I don't know if that's possible.
But I don’t want Ian to be the only one who initiates anything. He came out to me, he asked me out, and he takes the lead whenever it’s something that matters.
I’ll ask him at the cabin next week. I’ll play it by ear until then. If it all goes badly, I can laugh it off or something, lean into bro banter, and say that I asked so I could keep all the blowjobs for myself.
That’s ridiculous, like every other aspect of my social life. It’s not like I have any better ideas.