16. Felix
SIXTEEN
FELIX
I shouldn’t be doing this. There’s a hundred reasons why I shouldn’t be doing this but there’s a throbbing in my groin and a haze in my head that won’t let me act with reason right now.
Nothing about tonight should be making me want this. Nothing that’s happened tonight should make me change my mind or resolve, and yet that kiss…it lit something inside me that I can’t extinguish. Something that’s sent me tumbling into something selfish. Into my own abyss of need and want and it won’t be sated until I am.
The whole time I’m home trying to put the girls to sleep is torture, because all I can think about is him, his kiss, his touch. Hell, even his story is something that makes me feel some kind of way about him. The way he was betrayed, the way he backed away from love because of it…it makes me want to shelter him, to protect him.
It makes me want to prove him wrong.
I leave their room knowing they’re still awake but by the time I have a shower—I need to shave—they’re out like a light.
“Okay. I…I’m off,” I tell Cheyenne who is, like usual, buried in a book or another and not even the good kind. Just boring old textbooks that are going to get her into college or whatever.
“Okay, Mr. Spring…” something hangs in the air in her words although I’m not quite sure what it is.
She’s not stupid. She knows where I’m going and what I’m about to do. She’s sixteen for crying out loud. But that’s not what it is.
“Did you need to tell me something?” I ask her as I put my coat back on.
She opens her mouth but no word comes out. She just shakes her head and I open my front door.
“Just…be careful,” she whispers and I pretend I don’t hear.
I don’t need an excuse to listen to reason. I need to do this. I need to get this out of my system. I need to see if Hayworth is able to put out the fire burning inside me. This yearning that threatens to scorch me to my core.
I type in his address on my phone and drive there with relative confidence. Maplewood is easy to navigate even if I’ve not been here long enough to know every nook and cranny of the town.
I find his car parked in front of the apartment block and pull up behind him then I buzz his apartment number. The crackling noise of the door comes through in an instant, letting me into the building.
I take the stairs to the second floor and find him there, standing by the door, in a white T-shirt and sweatpants and my cock throbs again, taking my breath away as the realization of what I’m about to do hits me, threatening to immobilize me.
“Everything okay?” he asks, his smile wavering just a smidge.
He looks clean and freshly showered and when I nod and walk toward him I smell his fresh, cool deodorant, which only sends me reeling further into my daze.
“Yeah, I’m good,” I say and he lets me into his apartment.
It’s modern and minimal but feels lived in. I expect a bachelor pad but it appears tidy. Perhaps a little too tidy. A piece of fabric caught in a cupboard door fills in the picture in my head of Hayworth rushing to clean any mess visible in the apartment before my arrival.
“Would you like a drink?”
I shake my head and take a seat on his couch. “I’m driving.”
He sits beside me, facing me, and smirks. “Not for the foreseeable future,” he all but purrs and that doesn’t help the straining hardness between my legs one bit.
“Oh really?” I purr back, not even recognizing myself or my voice.
“Uh-huh. So…what’s it going to be? Beer? Wine? Scotch?” He starts getting up but I can’t take it anymore. I grab him by the shirt and pull him down to me.
“I think I’d rather have you,” I say and drive my lips between his, reigniting the flame inside and the memory of the kiss by my doorstep.
He pushes me back with the force of his kiss and I slip my tongue into his mouth, wanting to taste him once more.
He sits on my lap and deepens our kiss with an eagerness—a hunger—that sends shivers down my spine. He wants this. I want this. This is happening.
I don’t know how long we stay connected, but the more we do the less I can taste the minty flavor of his toothpaste, and the more I can taste him, his essence, and it’s even more intoxicating.
I do come up for air and when I push him back, he collapses beside me, his legs sprawled all over me.
I rest my head against the cushion and he does the same, gazing into my eyes, mouth agape, chest rising and falling rapidly, Adam’s apple bobbing as if it has a life of its own. I can’t stop staring. I can’t stop watching him. He’s utterly handsome and sexy.
“What?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I reply on instinct.
His eyes narrow and he leans in closer, barely an inch from me. He becomes a blur until I blink and refocus my eyes.
“What?”
My body feels like it’s been drenched in gasoline and is ready to ignite, to match the inside, and I know it won’t take much for me to go kaboom .
“You do know I’m trans, right?” The words have been circling in my head all evening but now that we’re close, so close I can almost feel him as if he is me, I have to ask. I have to make sure.
“Yeah, I do,” he says.
“And you don’t care?”
He presses his lips together. “Why would I?” When I don’t say anything, he brings his hand up and cups my cheek. “We’re not all like your ex, okay? I don’t care. I want you .”
I take a second to enjoy the contact, to close my eyes and smell his body lotion in his hand, to feel the goose bumps in the back of my neck and their impact on my desperate body before I look into his eyes again.
“You know you’ll be my second one, right?”
“Huh?” he asks.
“I’ve only ever been with him . I probably don’t know what I’m doing.”
He licks his lips and grins at me. “That’s okay. You’re my first trans man. I might need some guidance.”
“Okay,” I say.
“Okay,” he replies.
Then we’re onto each other again as if we never stopped.
His hands crawl up my back, under my shirt, the contact leaving me in shivers. I run my own hands in circles around his shoulders, over his chest, over his abdomen but I take pause there, too scared to keep going but too needy to stop.
He sits up and with a face as red as a rose, he yanks his shirt off and places my hands over his ripped stomach. He’s absolutely divine with a six-pack even Henry Cavill would be envious of. I was never one to be turned on by muscles and toning but he’s like a sculpted statue of a Greek god and I his faithful disciple worshipping him with my fingers.
“Don’t be afraid. I don’t bite,” he whispers in my ear before he traps my earlobe between his teeth and pushes my hands further down, to the hard bulge that makes me choke up at the mere sight of it.
His cock is curled up but hard and it pulses in my hand, which only sends a tremor all the way to my core, making me hard as rock too.
I squeeze his groin and with my free hand guide him down to me so I don’t feel rude and greedy.
He expertly slides his hand over my clothes and even though there’s denim and cotton between us he rubs against my cock, making me twitch.
A groan escapes me before I can control it and Hayworth pulls away from my neck to stare into my eyes, repeating the motion over and over again and witnessing the effect it has on me.
He bites his lip as I bite my own. His chest rises at the same tempo as my own and even our blinking becomes synchronized as if neither of us wants to miss a second of this.
The more attention he pays to me, the more immobile he renders me so even when I feel the absence of his bulge in my hand I don’t react. I can’t. He finds the hem of my shirt with his fingers and pulls it off of me. His eyes run over my chest, my belly, my arms. I hold my breath, bracing for something negative, something unexpected but he only touches the scars left behind by my top surgery and whispers: “Does it hurt?”
I shake my head and without looking away he leans down and flicks his tongue over my right nipple. I bite down a moan but he keeps going until I have to physically gag myself to stop me from shouting.
“Don’t hold back. It’s just us adults here,” he says before he feasts on my other nipple and he brings his hand up above my waistband and digs through my jeans and underpants until his fingers make contact with my engorged dick and I just about lose it.
No. Not just about.
I do lose it.
A moan so loud it threatens to shake the foundations of this house, this whole block even, erupts from me and when I come down again I can’t help but laugh.
“There he is,” he murmurs as he begins his descent on my body, pulling my pants down with him.
“There what is?” I gasp as my cock and front hole are exposed to the slightly chilly air.
“My Felix,” he says, getting down on his knees before me and holding my knees together. “May I suck you off?”
I nod fast and hard before he’s even finished his sentence and he parts my legs. I feel his breath on my sore dick before his tongue, and I feel myself grow bigger in his mouth.
My breathing becomes erratic and I can’t help but get louder and louder the more of me he sucks and he increases his speed and force as if he’s getting hungrier for me by the second.
When I manage to find myself some oxygen, I pull his hand up and shove his fingers into my mouth. It’s his turn to moan and he stops licking me for a moment to watch me suck on his index, middle and ring fingers.
I hold his gaze like I would do if this was cock I was sucking, and his expression strains the more I go on.
Then I watch him watching me guide him down to my front hole and slide a finger inside.
“Use both of them. Don’t be scared,” I whisper, noticing his hesitation to touch my front hole.
He swallows and goes back down on me, trapping my cock in his mouth and adding his middle finger inside me while his ring finger pushes against my back hole. He works up a rhythm, a masterful rhythm that makes my insides threaten to combust and he keeps on going until my desire is trapped at my core and my throat, threatening to spill at both ends.
It’s as if he knows. As if he can feel it. Because he takes a moment to look me in the eyes and then pushes his fingers deeper inside and his tongue finds solace on my cock until I let go. Let go and ignite my insides, ignite my skin, ignite the air we breathe with my orgasm.
I’ve never been savored like this. Never been revered like this. It’s as if…as if I’ve not experienced the true meaning of sex until now and I feel as if this is my first time. As if I’ve been reborn.
I don’t know what the hell kind of sex I had with my ex before, but it wasn’t anything like this. It wasn’t anything close to this. No wonder I thought I could resist doing it again, but after this, after tonight, I don’t know that I can.
I want to do this again, with Hayworth.
I never want to stop.