28. Lolly
twenty-eight
Lolly
I let myself into his dorm with the key he gave me a few months ago. One of my professors is out today and we decided it made more sense for me to just come straight here after class.
The place feels different in his absence. “Hey Master Beto,” I say as I grab a pinch of fish food. “I miss your dad,” I admit.
I grab a quick shower and change into sweatpants and an old t-shirt I stole from him weeks ago. It’s almost too small for me, but I love it. The soft, worn cotton as gentle against my skin as he is.
I find my spot on the couch and grab my notebook and favorite pen. It’s been years since I’ve written anything, but my green eyes has inspired me. I bought the leather-bound book a few weeks after our first date and it’s nearly half full.
Jay is the only person that I’ve ever let read my poetry, the thought of sharing that part of me with anyone else entirely too vulnerable. Maybe some day.
I check the time, my heart rate increasing as I imagine him walking through the door. He still blushes when he sees me—and it still warms something long dormant in my chest. Every damn time.
I smile when I hear the shuffle of feet and fumbling of keys. I beat him to it, opening the door with a half-cocked grin and a damn hard-on.
“Hi,” he says, eyes jumping to the bulge in my sweatpants then back up to me as his cheeks redden even further.
“Hi,” I echo as I grab his bag and keys and put them on the counter where he always places them before sauntering back toward him.
He takes a tentative step toward me.
I thread my fingers through his empty belt loops and pull him closer, relief flooding my entire being at his nearness. His scent. Those eyes.
How is it that I can see this man every fucking day and it still not satiate my appetite for him? My desire to tell him about my day. My need to feel him. To touch him. To fill him.
He looks up at me, eyes full of mischief and longing. Lips parted in a whisper of desire.
I take his whisper and make it something beautiful.
My hands find his tight ass and I pull him toward me, our hard lengths brushing as a moan escapes his beautiful mouth. The need to have all of him consumes me.
“Fuck, green eyes,” I groan. “Why are you wearing these dreadful things,” I tease as I pull at his pants.
He laughs, the sound music that spins my stagnant soul.
More. I need more.
“I need a shower,” he whines.
“The fuck you do.”
He pulls back and rolls his eyes, “I’m serious. I feel gross.”
“Okay, then,” I say. “Lead the way.”
His eyes widen in surprise and I watch the quick battle between his ears. I know I’ve won when his shoulders drop in defeat and he smiles sheepishly up at me.
I don’t let him out of my sight, following behind him with one hand in his back pocket, pulling him to me if he tries to get too far ahead.
I shut the bathroom door behind us and turn him until he’s facing the mirror.
His heated cheeks red even in the dim lighting.
I kiss the back of his neck, slowly pulling his shirt over his head.
Still behind him, I guide his chin upward until his eyes meet mine, the mirror as clear as my intentions.
I pull my shirt off and wrap my arms around him, taking his ear into my mouth and gently scraping my teeth across his lobe until he shivers in my hold.
He holds my gaze, a failed attempt of annoyance crosses his face but quickly morphs into one of intrigue as my hands drift lower.
“Shit, Lolly,” he whispers.
“What’s that?”
I know he’s obsessing about that shower, but I continue my slow, torturous game. Unfastening his jeans with one hand while pinching and circling his nipple with the other, I watch his resolve falter.
“You’re perfect,” I say to him.
To the world.
To anyone who will listen.
I place one more kiss between his shoulder blades and grab his hand, pulling him with me to the shower.
I spend a few extra seconds adjusting the water temperature, ensuring he’s able to get fully undressed. Listening for the closing of the shower door before I turn back around.
I pull him to me before he gives that wandering mind time to worry, kissing him with intention. Words that fail me being poured out through strokes of my tongue and the touch of my hands. Unmade promises spelled out through breaths and soft moans as I imagine he’s mine.
I force myself to pull away, finding his body wash and washcloth, hoping he’ll let me do this for him.
He shivers as I start at his neck and shoulders, watching my every move as I work my way down.
When I toss the washcloth and pour more soap into my hands his breath hitches, eyes widening in anticipation.
I take his length in one hand and circle his hole with the other.
“Fuck,” he hisses.
“Green eyes, I love the way you come undone when I play with your hole,” I groan. “So fucking sexy.”
He watches in fascination as my hand glides over his hard length, lips parted, breaths coming faster now.
His eyes dart to mine when I breach his hole. He’s so beautiful I can’t help but capture his mouth in mine. The kiss is heady—desperate. I slide a second finger in and he moans into my mouth. My dick twitches in answer.
I scissor my fingers inside him, opening him up until I find that sweet spot.
“Lolly,” he whimpers.
My name so perfect on those lips I could come just from the essence of everything that is him.
“Bailey,” I manage, a shiver racking my entire body. “I need to be inside this perfect ass of yours.”
“P—please,” he whines.
“You don’t have any lube in here.”
“Use the conditioner,” he begs.
“You’re not thinking clearly,” I laugh.
“Lean forward and put your hands on the wall,” I demand.
He obeys, arms shaking with need.
I place my palm on the small of his back, guiding him down further until he’s angled just right.
He stays there, ass in the air and legs spread. A fucking offering that’s just for me.
“Good boy.”
He whines, legs trembling.
“Now don’t fucking move. I’ll be right back.”
“No, don’t leave,” he protests.
But I’m already out of the shower, grabbing the bottle of lube I stuck in the bathroom cabinet.
I look over my shoulder to see if he’s moved at all. Then take slow, deliberate steps back toward the shower.
He huffs in annoyance and my mouth curves into a smile.
He glares at me over his shoulder but stays put, still bent over as I shut the shower door behind me.
I lube up before lining my head at his entrance, dragging it over his hole a few times—teasing him even though I’m dying to feel him choke my dick again.
“Please, Lolly,” he groans.
I push into him, the water pelting off of us as he squeezes my head so fucking tight I have to grab the base of my dick to center myself.
“Fuck, Bailey, you feel so fucking good.”
He relaxes around me and I enter him, filling him with all of me. Giving him all of me. Each slow thrust into this beautiful man is one more part of myself I am willfully handing over to do with as he pleases.
I can feel it happening.
I don’t care enough to stop it.
It’s too good.
He’s too perfect.
“Oh fuck, Lolly. Just like that. Please don’t stop.”
I fucking lose myself in those words. I lose myself and I find us. I find what we could be. What we already are. I find parts of him in me and parts of myself in him and I let the kaleidoscope rain down its mess of fragmented colors until it’s a fucking masterpiece.
I am his and he is mine.
“Bailey.” It’s a question and an answer. A prayer and an offering.
My pace quickens and he moans louder, the echoes of our pleasure bouncing off the walls around us. Skin slapping skin, panting breaths between moans.
I cover his hands with mine, intertwining our fingers to match our fucking souls.
“Come for me. I want to feel your tight hole squeeze my soul from my body,” I demand.
I fuck up into him, hitting that spot with each stroke and I feel his walls tighten around me before I hear him scream. I watch in awe as he shoots jets of cum against the shower wall while he squeezes my dick so tight I see stars.
I thrust into him as he rides out his orgasm, holding on with all that I have until I am launched over the edge and filling him with everything I have left to give.
We stay that way, the shower water still warm. I hold him, both of us panting as we catch our breath.
I gently tilt his chin to the side and capture his mouth with mine for a searing kiss. A kiss that tells him everything I can’t. One that admits I want to stay here forever. Like this.
Neither of us move and I revel in his warmth. My dick is sensitive after coming but it’s too fucking good to leave him yet.
“The water is going to be cold in about two minutes,” he says quietly.
“I know,” I admit.
I slowly pull out of him and drop to my knees, grip his ass with both hands and spread him.
He shivers, but the water isn’t yet cold.
“Fuck, you’re exquisite,” I manage. I watch, captivated as my cum leaks out of his perfect pink hole. “So fucking perfect,” I say in reverance.
I gently swirl one finger around his hole, scooping up my release and putting it back where it belongs.
He moans at the intrusion, but doesn’t pull away.
I spread his perfect ass wider and then bury my face in him and slowly run my tongue along his hole, catching my release, the taste of us so good I can barely bring myself to pull away.
“Lolly,” he moans, breathless.
I slide my tongue inside his perfect heat one more time before letting him go and standing to face him.
His eyes are wide, pupils blown, lips parted.
“Can I kiss you?”
He doesn’t answer, he just throws his arms around my neck and presses his soft lips to mine. He groans and swipes his tongue inside my mouth and I answer with my own tongue against his.
This beautiful boy is going to be the death of me.