Chapter Seven #3
“Hey!” She says, hoping up. She looks at the bottle of lube in my hand and grins up at me, patting my shoulder. “She’s all yours. Go get ‘em tiger.” Then she disappears back towards the first floor. I shake my head and go back in, locking the door behind me.
I pause at the door, take my shoes off and look over at the bed. Benjamin is whining softly, a continuous sound that I wish I could record and play every time I’m alone.
“Aaron?” He calls—voice quiet and a little scared.
“It’s me.” It sounds like a promise, and he sighs. Unable to lift his head for fear of tipping the bottle, he can’t look at me, forced to stay zeroed in on the ceiling. The moon shines so obscenely over his body, his tear-soaked face. He trembles, twitching sporadically.
“You were gone for so long.” Benjamin mutters, clearly not happy with my disappearing act—especially when he has no idea why I left in the first place. I tower over the side of the bed, still just out of view.
“You are so beautiful.” I say, ignoring his complaint. He closes his eyes.
“Ugh, fuck. Please for the love of God take this bottle away so I can move.” I chuckle at him, reaching an arm over to remove the water, recapping it and putting it on the table.
He sits up, reevaluating his surroundings and rubbing his wrists.
Then he looks at me. “Where did you go?” I tilt my head, observing him.
I debate telling him he doesn’t get to question me, but I don’t see the point. I hold up the lube.
“I can’t finger fuck you dry, Benjamin.” He gulps, nodding gently as he stares at the bottle.
“Where—actually—nevermind. I don’t want to know.
” He shakes his head. I chuckle again, pushing him back by his chest the same way I did earlier, this time until he’s flat on the bed.
I place the lube on the bed and take my shirt back off, dropping it to the floor.
Benjamin watches me, exhaling loudly as he looks me up and down.
I climb in between his legs and push them up his body to bend at the knee, exposing all of him to me.
I suck in a deep breath. He’s smooth there too. Pink and soft. My hands itch to touch him, squeezing his thighs where I hold him instead. My eyes find his and he’s staring me down. Worrying his bottom lip, his nervous eyes are trying to read me, to figure out what I think, what I’m feeling.
“Button, has anyone other than me seen this part of you?” Slowly, he nods, and I feel my entire soul as it’s ripped from my fucking body. As I’m trying to wrap my head around the fact that this means he’s most likely not a virgin in regards to his ass, he says—
“The lady who taught me how to wax, she did it for me the first time so… It was cheaper that way. For swimming, ya know?” He looks uncomfortable, rambling away. A relieved laugh pours out of me. I lean the side of my head against his knee and stare down at him.
“And that’s all?”
“Yeah, that’s all.”
“So, you’ve never-”
“No, I’ve never been touched there. Not even by myself, not like that.” The excitement that blossoms throughout my entire body is so sweet I have to breathe a bit deeper so as to not hyperventilate. It must show on my face, because Benjamin laughs. “You’re so weird about the randomest shit.”
I don’t respond, instead I pick up the lube and pour a generous amount of it on my fingers.
Now, I imagine this is a lot like fingering a girl—only gentler because of how tight the muscle is.
I’ve never done this, and I’ve never seen it done, but I’m confident that I at the very least won’t hurt him.
I rub the lube between my fingers, warming it up.
My eyes find Benjamin again and he looks uneasy, nervous.
“Okay?” He nods. “Tell me if anything hurts. Or if you’re done.
Promise me.” He nods again. I turn my mouth inward, kissing along his thigh, running my tongue along the skin and raising goosebumps in its wake.
Benjamin groans, dropping his head back on the bed, the fingers of the hand not covered in lube skimming the shaft of his dick.
While he's distracted with that, I circle the rim of his hole gently, spreading some of the lube. He gasps, clenching at the blanket by his hip. I keep kissing his thighs, fingers grazing his dick. He pants, slowly untensing his muscles as he adjusts to the feeling of me circling and rubbing against the ring of muscle. I prod gently and his thighs tense as he whines, throwing an arm over his eyes as if he’s trying to hide himself.
Slowly, I push my finger past that tight ring of muscle and enter inside of him, all the way to my first knuckle. He groans and I feel it in my chest, from his body transferred to mine.
“Button?”
“Good, good, I’m good.” He rushes, panting heavily and still adamantly clenching the blankets.
I give him a minute to adjust to the intrusion, then I wrap my hand around his dick and stroke him as I push my finger the rest of the way in.
“Ahhhhh.” Benjamin moans, springing up to rest on his elbows, eyes wide and brows furrowed. His hair is stuck to his forehead with sweat as he stares me in the eyes. I can see the question he’d ask if he could find the words.
“Try to relax, baby. You need to adjust.” He nods, taking in a sharp breath. “Breathe slow and deep.” He listens, and I keep lightly stroking him, my finger still.
“Is it… is it supposed to hurt and feel good at the same time?” He asks, his muscles relaxing around me little by little.
His voice is watery, his lips bitten raw as I kiss his thigh again, then suck a dark hickey onto it.
He grunts. Benjamin looks like he’s falling apart piece by piece—so fucking delicious.
“That’s normal.” Well, at least it is for women. I imagine it’s the same thing. Nodding, he lays back down and I take that as my sign to continue.
Stroking a bit harder, I retract my finger just a bit, then push back in slowly.
I feel his labored breaths, and we continue with this fight until he’s nothing but whimpers as I move.
I drag my finger all the way out of him, then plunge back in.
His back arches off of the bed, and I try not to focus too hard on how hot, how wet and tight the inside of him is.
I try to keep myself from rolling my hips forward to rub my dick against the zipper of my jeans, which would have me coming just from fingering him.
I pump into him repeatedly, watching as his pleasure builds and the pain fades away.
Eventually, I remove my hand from his erection and grip his thigh, grounding myself as I watch his hole devour my finger over and over.
My size—would he even be able to take it?
I'd tear him in two. God, I want it so bad. I want to see my cock disappearing inside of him, being swallowed up so needily. He’d scream—he’d cry with how deep I’d go.
Staring at that smooth strip of skin nestled between his hips, I rest my hand over it, pressing down.
“Fuck, fuck! Oh fuck!” Benjamin cries. I pump my finger into him harder, faster.
“This deep, I’d go at least this deep.”
“Yes, yes.” He’s nodding, rolling his hips down to meet every thrust I give him.
“So fucking needy, baby. Do you feel good?” He wails—a high pitched whine—and nods as one hand pinches at one of his swollen nipples. “Mhm, that’s good. You look so good. Take what I give you, let me take you apart.”
Benjamin is shaking in his spot further up the bed, and I watch him cry.
“Can I add another?” He nods viciously, flexing and unflexing his fingers into the blanket under him. “That’s a very good boy.”
“Aaron.” He groans, and I take that moment to slowly slide my index finger inside him alongside my middle. He makes a choking sound when they settle as deep as they can go, and once I feel him relax, having adjusted once more, I pump into him again.
Watching both fingers is much hotter than one—it’s overwhelming in the best way possible.
My hips roll forward on their own accord, and I find myself groaning alongside Benjamin every time he pushes his hips down to meet my thrusts.
I watch his hole stretch, his body changing its very anatomy just for me.
To accommodate me, desperately making room for me. God—I’m going to come in my pants.
I still my hips, curiously leaning down and running my tongue along the muscle as it stretches and sucks my fingers in.
Benjamin spazzes for a moment, babbling something unintelligible and sobbing in between shakes of his head where it rests on the bed.
The taste of lube isn’t very nice, but the underlying taste of him sends me straight into a frenzy as I circle my pumping fingers with my tongue, hoping it will slip in as well.
The vicious desire to clamp my teeth down, to squeeze whatever part of him I can touch, to fuck as deep into him as humanly possible just to get this pent-up lust, this pent-up affection out of my chest—it swallows me whole. It almost pulls me under.
Distracting myself from those urges, I lean back up and curiously, I turn my hand, my palm tilting to the right.
“Nghhh,” Benjamin groans. Then, I curl my fingers and a moan so loud, more brutal than any moan I’ve ever heard come from his mouth pierces the air.
He’s coming. Ropes of come land on his chest and stomach, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he sits up, staring at me with wide eyes—manic and full of pleasure.
Some of his cum hits his neck, his cheek and mouth.
He grabs my wrist, holding it tight to keep it from leaving his body.
His other hand reaches up and pulls at my hair, moves to my cheek, then touches his own nipples and back down to grab at the bed.
It’s like he doesn’t know what to do with himself—with this pleasure.
All the while, I stay inside of him, gently curling my fingers over and over again.
I’ve never seen an orgasm go on for so long. I’ve never seen a man come without touching his dick. Even after there’s no longer come shooting out of him, he’s moaning, frantic, as if he’s still in the throes of his orgasm.
“Aaron, Aaron—Aaron?! Oh, God. Oh my God.” My chest tightens and my hips buck forward.
“That’s right, baby, keep coming. I’ll be your God. Pray to me. Thank me.”
“Thank you, oh God, thank you.” With one last groan he falls back onto the bed, breathing heavily, and once again like a fucking virgin, my hips roll forward and I’m coming in my jeans.
I bite down hard on Benjamin’s thigh—focusing on the feel of my still fingers inside of him.
He doesn’t even react to the bite as I grunt and groan through my orgasm.
When I finally come down, I slowly remove my fingers, hearing as he whines softly at the loss.
I clean the blood from the bite on his thigh, waiting for it to stop bleeding before moving on.
Crawling up his body I use my tongue and clean the rest of him up, swallowing any proof of his release that I can find like a greedy dog heeling to its master.
Lastly, I lick over his cheek, his lips, his chin.
Benjamin laughs and threads his hand into my hair, weak and spent, not even bothering to lift his head or open his eyes. I sit back and stare at him laying there, sprawled out in front of me. And he’s so fucking beautiful.
Slowly, his hazel eyes start to open—looking up at me in a haze as he smiles softly. My fingers run gently over that stretch of smooth skin between his hips.
“You okay, Button?” He rolls his bottom lip between his teeth.
“Yeah, I’m great. Are you?” Warmth spreads in my chest at his small, scratchy voice filled with concern.
“Other than the fact that I have to scrub come out of another pair of jeans, I’m wonderful.” Benjamin laughs. “Honestly, two pairs is ridiculous.”
“Well, I’m sorry both times were my fault.”
I know he’s trying to carry on the bit that I was just joking about it, but after those words are spoken my blood runs cold.
What have I done? I fucked it all up again. I touched him—even worse this time I entered him. I took another first. I swallow a lump in my throat, trying to breathe.
This can’t happen again. If I can’t resist him, then I’ll just stay away from him completely.
If we were to do this—say fuck it to all the things that stand in the way and attempt at some sort of relationship—and something goes wrong, could he handle that? He already has so much heartache in his life. I can’t risk being another source. I won’t.
“Aaron? What’s wrong?” Benjamin sits up, a hand resting on my chest. His eyes are so full of fear and anxiety—like he’s afraid I’ll run screaming at any second.
“Nothing.” I clear my throat. “Nothing, Button. Here, lay down. Cameron won’t care if we crash in here tonight.” Big, satiated hazel eyes widen.
“We—yeah okay. Sure.” He lays back down and I pull the blanket from under him, ignoring the mess made on the top layer. “Are you...” The vulnerability in his eyes squeezes at my chest, so I nod and crawl in behind him.
I hold him to me, my face buried in his neck, bathing myself in the smell of his sweat and the sweet citrus he radiates.
I allow myself this one last time, my fingers grazing his hips, his stomach, the bite marks I embedded into him.
The first and only time any proof of whatever this thing is between will be taken with him once the sun rises.
Then, when I feel his breathing even out, I put on my shirt and shoes—kiss him one last time, and leave—locking the door from the inside on the way out.