Chapter Sixteen
Harper
“You awake?”
Harper stood in the doorway, clutching the fuzzy terry cloth robe he’d found hanging on the back of the door when he’d gotten up to relieve himself moments earlier.
Banks rustled atop the bed, propping himself up on a pile of pillows as if he knew that’s just where the moonlight was filtering in, lighting him like a screen idol on some blockbuster Hollywood set. “I am now. Whatcha wearing there, Hot Pants?”
“I had to pee,” Harper insisted, quietly inching the door shut behind him. “But I didn’t want to get dressed again, so...”
Banks nodded, eyes ranging up and down Harper’s body the way they always did. No one, not one other living soul, had ever looked at Harper the way Banks did. “Come here, Harp,” he insisted, voice low and guttural and, Harper knew, not just because of the late hour.
Harper nodded and did as he was told, kicking off his flip-flops along the way until he padded over to the bed on bare feet. “Did you sleep well?” Harper asked, as if making conversation on a bad blind date.
Banks chuckled, their eyes meeting in the sliver of magical light wafting in through the fluttering curtains over the bed. “With you? Naked? Next to me? Not a chance, Harp.”
“Lucky you were still dressed,” Harper murmured, admiring the wispy trail of soft dirty blond hair that drifted from the waistband of Banks’s boxer shorts to his belly button. “I slept like a baby.”
“Yeah, you did,” Banks snorted, big hand drifting from the bedsheets to toy with the sash of Harper’s ill-fitting robe. “Not for nothing, Harper, but your roommate’s not the only one who snores like a freight train.”
“Shut it,” Harper murmured nervously as Banks tugged heavier on the sash, revealing more of his smooth, naked body beneath.
Their eyes met in the shimmering darkness, Banks offering that sexy little smirk of his as he nodded at his masculine physique, splayed out atop the bedsheets like a feast to be savored. “Why don’t you climb up here and shut it for me, Harp?”
Harper cocked his head, not understanding. “Huh?” he finally asked, when Banks felt content to just marvel at him, standing there by the bed.
Banks licked his lips until they shimmered in the dark. “I said, why don’t you bring that skinny little dick of yours over here and shut my mouth for me, Harper?”
Harper gulped audibly, shifting nervously from foot to foot. “I ... I thought that’s what you said, but ... how?”
“Jesus,” Banks snorted. “You really are a virgin, aren’t you?
Just...” Banks wriggled, until his head was propped gently up on the headboard behind him.
“Put one knee on either side of me, here...” Banks patted the bed beside his waist with both hands, making Harper’s breath catch in his throat with the mental image of himself, straddling his lover in such a close and intimate way.
“And put your whole package right in front of my face so I can get us to second base, like we talked about earlier.”
“But I... I...” Harper glanced at Banks in his boxer shorts, lying there atop the rumpled sheets with his defined muscles and hard angles and smiling dimples like something from a poster some horny teenage girl might hang in her room.
“We’ll get to that, Harper. Trust me, I want that, too. But right now? I want to make you happy again.”
“Your hands are fine,” Harper lied, even as he inched his way onto the bed, one trembling knee at a time.
He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting after their brief cat nap together in Banks’s bed, but it certainly wasn’t feeding his sticky trouser snake to his kinky young lover, that’s for sure!
Not that he was complaining, mind you, but, holy hot damn!
He was almost literally breathless just thinking about it.
Banks seemed to sense his hesitation, reveling in it as he smirked and smacked his big, fat lips in equal measure.
How Harper longed to have those lips against his once more, and even more so wrapped around the tip of his desperate, thrusting cock.
“Oh, I know what my hands can do. But trust me, Harp. My mouth can do even more, just you wait and see.”
Harper let out a small, helpless moan as he wriggled himself atop the mattress, doing as he was told and straddling Banks with a knee on either side of his narrow, athletic waist. Despite the way Banks lay there, smirking and calm as a cucumber, his body heat was intense, wafting up between Harper’s legs as if he’d just knelt over a sizzling furnace.
It licked at his thick, full balls, wafted across his quivering flanks and caressed his trembling belly with its intense, inviting heat.
“I feel silly,” he murmured, still wearing the robe but feeling the freedom of sheer, hard nakedness underneath, and even more so with his legs spread atop Banks.
Their eyes met in the half-dark, shimmering and soft. “Trust me, Harp, in a few minutes? All you’ll feel is heaven. Wet, thick heaven, so good and hot and dripping you’ll be begging me to slow down so it’ll last just a few seconds longer.”
He glanced down at Banks, peering slightly up at Harper from his pile of ruffled pillows. He wore a shit-eating, almost triumphant grin, as if he’d already made Harper come again.
“How can you be so sure?” he asked, earnestly curious about how Banks could be so cocky, so sure of himself.
Was it just the virgin in Harper that made any other man more confident than himself?
Or the fact that Banks was a homebred, small-town superstar used to getting what he wanted?
Or maybe it was just because Harper was so willing to do whatever it was Banks wanted.
Either way, he was as impressed by the way Banks held himself as he was envious to do so himself.
“Simple, Harp.” Banks reached out to tug the loosely wound knot free, the sash giving way and the robe opening completely.
The soft, clingy fabric rustled away from where it had clung tentatively to his fluttering belly, slithering to each of Harper’s sides as his cock, already thick, sprung free.
“Because I want to make you happy. It makes me happy to make you happy. And when I set a goal for myself, I usually reach it.”
Harper felt the warm, humid air caress his torso, suddenly bared to the elements and, of course, Banks and his hungry, roving eyes. “What goal is that?”
“To take your virginity, Harper. Obviously. To take your virginity one ceiling blasting orgasm at a time, that’s my goal.”
“And what about you? You’ve only been with girls so far, right?”
Banks winked, toying with the end of the robe sash playfully. “You’re not the first guy I’ve been with, Harper, but yes, I’m a virgin, too. We’re doing this together, you and me. If that’s what you want, of course?”
“What guy?”
Banks chuckled. “Is that all you got out of my blatant come on, Harp?”
“I mean, it was the headline, right?”
Banks made a face, not entirely pleasant. “More like a footnote, actually. And we’ll get to that, soon, but ... do you really want to interrupt playtime for story time, Harper?”
Harper shook his head. Balls so taut and tender a hurricane couldn’t keep him from what was about to happen next. “No, but you have to promise to tell me about this Mystery Man later, okay?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die, Harper.” Banks did just that, big hand crossing his heart as he stared up at Harper intently.
Then he swallowed, licking those big, wet lips thoroughly, as if knowing what just looking at them did to Harper’s resolve.
“Now, shimmy that ass over here and bring that big, pretty cock closer to my mouth.”
“Fucking hell,” Harper groaned, his lover’s words almost as tender as the hands that tugged the robe free at last, one shoulder at a time, until it slithered across his back and caressed the orbs of each butt cheek before drifting gently away, a pile of light blue terry cloth crumpled on the bed behind him.
“You’re telling me,” Banks murmured as Harper inched closer, so close the warmth of his lover’s words bathed his thick, downturned cock in their fervent embrace.
Harper was close enough to grip the simple bars behind Banks’s head, fingers lacing across the cool metal as Banks peppered his flat, trembling belly with butterfly kisses to match those currently dancing just inside.
“Jesus, Harper, you’re so fucking beautiful. ..”
“Stop,” Harper murmured, squirming nervously so that the mattress squeaked lightly beneath his protests.
“I won’t stop,” Banks promised, hot breath on the base of Harper’s cock as he pressed his thick lips against it, warming and oozing like syrup across a stack of flap jacks. “I won’t stop, Harper, not until I’m swallowing every drop of your seed.”
“Jesus,” Harper moaned, outside of himself with anticipation even as Banks began to make good on his promise.
His hands reached out, big and warm, to grip Harper’s waist and rock him gently this way, then that, dragging his stiffening cock across his lover’s wet, pliant lips.
They danced along the shaft, coating it with wet fervor and drifting toward the thick, silken head, already slick with its own delicate icing and desperate to be enrobed in the warm, throbbing shelter of his lover’s mouth.
When Harper was in place, delirious with lust and stiffening with each wet, probing kiss, Banks slid his hands around to cup each trembling flank of his pale, bare ass cheeks.
Harper gasped, stiffened, flinched and Banks laughed, squeezing each cheek purposefully as his lips finally enrobed the tip of Harper’s raging hard-on.
Harper moaned, sheer ecstasy driving the senseless words from his gaping maw. “Oh fuck.”