16. Samuel
SAMUEL
WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE?
Benji closed the door to my apartment behind him so slowly that it almost seemed like he questioned his decision. He inhaled and exhaled just as slowly as if he had to calm himself down.
“You can take your shoes off... or leave them on, whatever you like,” I said, slipping out of mine. I took my time, stalling, unsure how to move forward. We’d kissed twice tonight, and inviting him felt like the right next step, but that didn’t mean I knew how to handle it from here on.
Meanwhile, he moved without hesitation, nudging off his left shoe with the heel of his right, then did the same with the other.
His eyes darted through the room. First, they landed on the small nook next to the door where my twin bed stood against the wall, with only enough space between it and the door to fit my small blue nightstand.
Then he looked past my right shoulder to the bathroom door.
“I’d show you around, but that’s it,” I said and pointed in every direction he’d already looked. “Bed, Bathroom,” I pointed over my left shoulder, “Kitchen, Bookcase, Balcony,” and then at myself, “Me.”
A laugh spilled out of Benji, entirely unfiltered, and my stupid heart tripped over itself.
“It’s awesome,” he said.
“Bigger than the room at my parents’ house,” I replied. “But I hate the ceiling light.” I pointed toward it, making us both look up at the marbled white shade with a silver frame, squinting. “It’s too bright.”
“I wish I had those problems,” Benji said, easing back a step and flipping the switch next to the door. In an instant, the room was shrouded in darkness, only a faint light falling in through the window over the bed, revealing Benji’s silhouette now. “See? Problem solved.”
“Genius. Why didn’t I think of that?” We shared a chuckle for half a minute before letting the silence settle between us, neither of us making a move to turn the light back on. “So, are we going to leave it off now?”
“Why? Are you afraid of the dark?”
“No?”
“Afraid of... ” Benji slid his right foot forward, his sock grazing over the floor as if walking like this in the dark would keep me from noticing he was sneaking closer. “...me?”
“Should I be afraid of you?”
“Maybe,” he said, his grin so wide now that his teeth reflected the moonlight. Benji tiptoed toward me, clearly trying to make no sound. He reached out with his hands just like he had when he invited me to wrestle earlier. “But it depends, whether?—”
“I know, you’re walking toward me.”
“ Wha-at... ?” He dragged out the word, trying to sound surprised like the worst actor in the world, and froze. “I’m not moving.”
“Sure. I guess that’s not you standing right in front of me then.” I took one step, reaching my arm out, and already bumped into his chest.
“Ha! Gotcha!” Before I knew it, he grabbed my wrist, holding it firm. “That was all calculated.”
“Is that so?” My chest fluttered, my breath growing heavier.
His fingers stayed wrapped around my wrist. The only thing between us was the sound of our breaths, uneven and too loud in the dark.
“Sam?”
“I’m here.”
“Do you...” Benji slid an inch closer, but left enough space that it wasn't too obvious if he was just playful or pursuing the same ulterior motives that had made me invite him up here. “Do you want to continue where we left off? You know, uhm, before we got interrupted?”
“I wouldn’t be against that.” I swooped closer, my knee brushing against his. “But we’d have to be lying on the floor... to continue exactly where we left off.”
“You’re right.”
“Maybe...” I said, leading him toward my bed. It was comfier than the linoleum floor that I hadn’t mopped in a week.
“Yeah,” he whispered back, needing no explanation.
The bed squeaked as I knelt on it. My heart raced. This was actually going to happen. I was about to make out with him. Who knew, maybe even more. Me—the one who was so sure I had to leave Red Creek to ever be close to a guy again.
I lay down, pressing my back against the wall to give Benji room as he climbed beside me. “I think your leg was...” I set my hand on it and guided it over mine, his thigh warm against me.
“And my hand was...” He released my wrist, letting his palm settle on my bulge without any hesitation. “...here, I guess.”
My dick twitched, hard. Even through the fabric, there was no denying it—Benji was touching me in a place no one else would ever dare.
He pressed his palm firmly into my bulge, sending a shiver through me. My lips parted, a moan slipping out, and, as if that was the invitation he’d been waiting for, he kissed me again. Our tongues searched for each other, clearly not done for the night.
His lips were so soft I could’ve drowned in them, his tongue so determined I couldn’t help wondering what else it could do.
His hand slid under my shirt, gliding across my chest, then out through the collar, his fingers digging gently into my skin.
He climbed over me, his legs settling between mine.
My shirt had ridden up so far that now it was his shirt brushing against my bare skin—and I couldn’t wait for it to be replaced by his stomach.
I wrapped my arms around him, slipped my hands under his hem to trace his back and shoulders, then emerged at his collar and brushed the nape of his neck.
“This feels nice,” Benji whispered.
“I know something that feels even better.” I pressed my lips to his neck.
His mouth fell open, a deep, raspy hum escaping him that was unlike anything I’d heard from him before. I kissed his neck, over and over, then, in a moment of horny boldness, ran my tongue over his Adam's apple toward the other side of his neck.
His hum became a full-on moan. “Damn. You know your stuff.”
“That’s the only good spot I knew, besides...” I rushed my hands down his back, my left grabbing his ass and my right brushing his bulge, “...these two.”
“That’s... good spots to know.” He let himself fall onto the bed beside me, settling on his back.
He angled his right leg so our bulges rested side by side, as if he wanted to compare their elevation.
Before we could fully enjoy the sight, though, he cupped my bulge, his thumb rushing up and down my dick, eagerly trying to find where it began and ended.
“You’re hard,” Benji said, like he’d only now realized that I was a man too. “That means you like it.”
“I do,” I said, reaching over, rubbing my palm over his bulge. “Same for you?”
“M-hm.” His hand drifted over my balls, down between my legs, and along my thigh, searching for something that was out of reach—at least as long as we were fully dressed. “You want to...”
“...get rid of the pants?” I dared to ask.
“Yeah.”
We let go of each other, both working on our belts.
His leather belt slapped against my hand, the tingling running through me in a surprisingly pleasant way, but I already forgot about it as we both unzipped with barely half a second delay.
As if we’d tried to match our entire outfits today, we both revealed black undies—mine a slip, his boxer shorts.
Benji sat up, shoving his jeans down his legs, the metal of his belt thudding as it hit the floor.
I pulled my shirt over my head, the fabric fluttering as it sailed through the air toward the middle of the room.
My hands rushed under the waistband of my pants, pushing down as I kicked my feet to make everything go faster.
The fabric wasn’t even past my ankles when Benji leaned in, his mouth searching mine.
His hands kneaded my dick through my underwear.
At first, he only brushed his palm over it, but as soon as his fingers found the outline, they moved up and down, stealing my focus from the kiss.
He slipped his hand underneath the waistband, pulled my slip up, and freed my erection.
Without hesitation, he wrapped his fingers around it, stroking like he’d planned this all along.
He withdrew his tongue from my mouth, rested his forehead against mine, and glanced down, taking in the sight of his hand working my erection.
“You’re huge,” he said, and even though he couldn’t quite contain my entire dick in his hand, it still felt like an exaggeration.
Sure, I liked my dick. It was almost straight with a light upward curve at the glans, and had, at least in my opinion, the perfect ratio of thickness to length. But compared to what I’d seen in adult movies, it definitely wasn’t huge .
“I bet you’re bigger,” I replied, which only made him grin.
“I mean, there is a way to find out.” He let go of me and shifted so his bulge lined up beside my crotch.
With a quick flick, he pushed his shorts down, releasing his cock like it was no big deal.
He pressed into the base, holding it up so I could get a good look, and what I saw made me lick my lips.
His dick stood straight, fully erect, at least an inch longer than mine.
Two thin veins, starting shortly beneath his glans, ran down toward his balls, almost parallel like two rivers chasing each other down to a trimmed but very much present bush.
Benji leaned over, bringing his cock closer to mine as if he wanted to show off the difference in size.
“I guess you win,” I teased.
“Because I get to play with yours?” he shot back, making me snort.
Somehow, I would’ve expected him to say something like ‘Loser has to suck,’ as if he were some frat boy (not that I would’ve complained, because his dick looked very suckable), but Benji was always good for a surprise.
“You can touch me, too, if you want.” He nudged his tip closer to mine.
I freed my right hand from where it was wedged between our legs, spread my fingers, paused briefly as I could feel the heat radiating from his shaft already half an inch away, but then followed his suggestion.