Chapter Seven
Aaron
We don’t get much further after that before someone bangs on the door.
“Hey! Can you guys give someone else the bathroom for a fucking minute?” Shit.
We’ve been in here for who knows how long now.
Benjamin’s staring up at me half naked, apparently unconcerned with the intruder.
I ignore his protests and slap his angry hands away as I put his underwear and pants back on him.
Making sure we both look—well—like we weren’t fucking in the bathroom, I open the bathroom door.
“Sorry man, the cuter they are the harder it is to keep their clothes on ‘em.” The guy standing in front of the door is definitely a junior, one I’ve never met before.
His eyes widen as he watches me lead a stumbling Benjamin down the hall.
Benjamin gives him a mock salute—debates for a second—then flips him the bird.
I laugh, pulling him toward me and into an empty bedroom.
I battle Benjamin to be able to lock the door as he pulls me toward the bed. When it’s finally locked, I give in and follow him. He lays on his back in the center of the mattress, one knee bent up, his hair resting around him like a golden halo.
The moonlight trickling in from the large, curtainless window bathes Benjamin in a soft glow.
His arms are spread out and he waits, anticipating, watching me.
I stand at the end of the bed and study him.
He’s so fucking beautiful. I’m half convinced if he sat up and told me to jump out that window I would do it.
“Take off your clothes.” I tell him. He sits up, about to get off the bed.
“No.” He pauses. “Where you are.” Benjamin stares at me for a moment before he understands.
I’m realizing that the liquor is probably hitting him the strongest at this point, and he’s most likely a bit drunker than he was when I barged in on him and that girl. Speaking of which….
Benjamin pulls off the tight black shirt, showing me his toned biceps, his curved waist, that soft stomach.
He throws his shoes and socks on the floor and lays on his back again.
I feel him watching me as I watch his hips lift and in one motion, he pulls down both his pants and his briefs.
Tossing them onto the floor as well he lays back into his starting position.
All muscle, soft skin, and leaking cock.
He looks fucking delicious—but business always comes before play.
“Benjamin, if you answer me honestly, I’ll touch you. And if you don’t,” I pull my shirt over my head before moving to unbutton and unzip my jeans, pulling my neglected dick out. Benjamin sucks in a harsh breath. “I’ll only touch myself. Understand?” He nods frantically. “Words.”
“I understand.” Something in me warms at his obedience.
“Thank you.” I lean one knee onto the bed, drinking in the sight of him. I run a hand down the calf of the leg he has propped up and give myself a stroke. He groans. “What was that girl’s name?”
Shocked, he stares at me for a moment before the lust wins.
“Angel.” I scoff despite myself.
“Angel? Please. Sounds like a fucking stage name.” Benjamin swallows harshly, staring up at me, looking between my eyes and where my dick stands, leaning against my abs.
I run my fingertips up his thigh. “What did she say to you downstairs, when she whispered in your ear?” He has to think for a handful of seconds—probably longer than needed as he keeps getting distracted when I randomly stroke myself. Finally, recognition lights his eyes.
“She told me that in her dreams I fuck her in the bathroom and then never see her again.” I nearly choke on my own spit, staring down at him in disbelief. His face is saying, everything about what I just said is normal. But it absolutely isn’t.
“So, you were going upstairs to fulfil her dream? To fuck her in the bathroom?”
“Yes.” I lean forward, taking my hand off of my shaft and running it up Benjamin's chest, circling one of his nipples. He gasps, sitting up onto his elbows to watch my every move. I watch his face as I pinch the nipple to harden it, then roll it between my fingers.
“Fuck.” He’s moaning, awe spreading over his features. My hand is doing that. Destroying him like this.
“Good job, baby.” He whines, looking up at me and away from my hands, bottom lip tucked between his teeth.
“What did you whisper in her ear? You said you’d come and find her.
Then what?” The conversation is seared into my mind like a fucking sleep paralysis demon who just won’t fucking leave me alone.
Benjamin’s eyes widen and he looks away. I slowly stop my movements on his chest and move back to leaning on my knee at the edge of the bed.
I give him a couple of beats to respond—to give me my answer. He doesn’t. In fact, he won’t even meet my eyes. What the fuck.
“No? Okay, you know what happens. Your choice.” Benjamin sits up to his full height quickly.
“But-”
“No buts. Disobedient boys don’t get touched.” I see the slight fear and disappointment settle over his features. But right alongside it is the part of him that’s getting off on this. On my praising and punishing him. “If I see you touching yourself, you won’t come at all tonight.” Slowly, he nods.
I sigh, straightening my back and closing my eyes.
Well, I’ve been hard for too long anyways.
I spit in my hand and slowly stroke myself from base to tip, running my thumb over my slit.
I hear Benjamin whining quietly on the bed.
The precum that gathered throughout the night now spreads over my shaft as I set a steady pace—groaning every couple of strokes when I pinch at the head. I hear the bed shift and open my eyes.
Benjamin is sitting on his heels now, hands lying obediently on his thighs as his dick stays ignored, precum dripping down his length and onto the bed.
He’s watching my hand greedily—his lips parted—eyes open wide as if he might blink and miss a monumental moment.
I stroke faster, rougher. I feel my orgasm begin to coil in the stomach, my balls tightening.
Benjamin leans forward, slowly crawling toward me.
I watch him in silence. I guess it’s true that I never said he couldn't touch me.
Once he's in touching range he sits back on his heels, and eyes still on my cock, says, “Aaron. Please. Please.”
“Look at me.” I tell him and when his eyes connect with mine, he likes whatever he sees, moaning obscenely, hand automatically moving toward his dick before falling back to his thigh.
“What did you whisper in Angel's ear right in front of me?” I watch the heat flare in his eyes, the defiance and fear.
He pants, licking his lips. Looking down at him, anyone would think he was begging from the dirty expression he wears now. His mouth closes and his eyes return to my hand as if I never spoke to him in the first place. Fine.
I groan in frustration. “On your knees.” I order, backing away from the bed, throwing a pillow in front of me on the ground.
Benjamin listens. Once he’s kneeling on the pillow, he stares up at me, waiting, patient.
I have to take a few moments to just enjoy the view, to familiarize myself with it.
If I don't—if I just shove right into his mouth, I’ll come immediately.
That would be so embarrassing I would die.
His hands are shaking slightly. “Do you want to put my dick in your mouth, Button?”
“Yes. Yes, please.” His eagerness is insanely sexy and extremely overwhelming. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, releasing it slowly before looking back down at him as he watches me patiently.
“Go on, then.”
Benjamin’s hand flies forward, no hesitation considering this is his first time seeing or touching my dick.
Maybe he’s done this before and is used to it.
That pisses me off a ridiculous amount—enough to ruin my night actually—so I push the thought away and focus on the greedy boy on his knees instead.
Benjamin angles my tip forward him, his warm palm sending spikes of heat down my spine and into the pit of my stomach.
He looks up, looks straight into my eyes as he sticks his tongue out and drags it across the tip of my dick to taste me.
He groans so loud I’m sure everyone dancing downstairs can hear him, and I watch his eyes roll back.
I fight off my impending orgasm like a virgin, gripping his thick golden hair lightly as he starts sucking me into his mouth.
He doesn’t give himself time to learn, just sucks me down, tongue exploring.
When I hit the back of his throat he chokes, pulling back a bit and doing it again. Fuck, how is he already so good at this? I grip his hair and pull him off me—with much effort mind you—with a wet pop. He’s panting, drool sliding down his neck and chin, lips puffy and red. His eyes are watering.
“Yes?” He asks, as if I’ve interrupted his Sunday brunch reservation and not him devouring my cock.
“What did you whisper to Angel right in front of me, knowing it would piss me off?” He stares up at me, and that hint of defiance that I saw in him earlier, that bratty side of him that just loves to push and push reappears, his eyes lighting up.
He says nothing. Just smiles. One of those fucking sun smiles, just for me. Dimples and all. I grin.
“Yeah? Ha, fine. I’ll fuck that smile right off your face, Button.
Then maybe you’ll tell me, hm?” His eyes widen once again.
Continuously shocked by his own desire and the situation unfolding right in front of him.
“Tap me twice if you’re done.” I don't give him time to respond before I shove my dick back into his mouth.
He whines but minds his teeth and starts to suck.