20. Will #3
He whips his head around and wiggles his ass at me, smiling back in full force.
“You like?” Then he starts pulling the band down lower, and my jaw falls open.
I’m not strong enough for this. I should stop him.
He’s had too much to drink. One more second, and I’ll say something.
Fuck, how did I not know I’m attracted to men? This is so sexy.
But then he’s pulling the lace back up, laughing, probably at the shocked look on my face.
“I do,” I finally admit. My eyes are glued to his firm ass as I take in the black fabric with lace lining the top.
He turns back to face me, and my attention is immediately drawn to his covered cock.
The front of the underwear looks like it’s got extra space for his dick, and even with that, it’s beginning to stretch the fabric.
Is he also hard? Is he attracted to me too? Or is it just the situation? He’s gay and putting on a striptease for another man. Maybe that’s enough to get him going.
I realize I’m still ogling him as my eyes dart back up to his.
“I didn’t mean to stare,” I rush out, cheeks heating. My head’s all over the place, and I can’t really focus on all the questions I have right now as he smirks at me. “I just… You look… Wow. I don’t have words.”
“That’s the exact kind of reaction I was hoping to elicit from someone who’d be willing to pin me down and fuck me,” he teases, and my heart rate picks up again.
Does he mean me? Are we back to jokingly flirting around or is he trying to tell me something?
I open my mouth—to ask what, I don’t even know—but he continues before I have the chance.
“But I’ll go change, since it’s just us. ”
“No!” I blurt, surprising myself, but I hate that idea. I don’t want him to put another piece of clothing on. I just want to admire him in his panties. “I mean… You don’t have to.” Shit. What am I saying?
“I don’t like to sleep in these anyway,” he dismisses, then heads into the bathroom, calling out as he continues so I can hear him.
“They’re really just meant to give me a confidence boost and make men weak in the knees.
I thought I might get lucky tonight since the bar was full of queer men. Guess one of two tonight isn’t bad.”
“Fuck,” I mutter to myself. I want to admit he’s done both. I’m definitely weak for him, but I bite my tongue as he shuts the door behind him.
Tonight has been… a lot. In a good way, I think.
I’ve really enjoyed spending time with him this semester because of how funny and bold he is.
But tonight, it’s like I got to peek behind the curtain and see a whole new side of Porter.
Still him, but I’ve finally realized how sexy he is, and how hot his playful, bratty side can be.
I want to see him in those panties again.
Want him to give me an intentional strip show.
“There, all better,” he announces, coming out of the bathroom in a black silky crop top and short sleep shorts. How does he look so incredible in absolutely everything he wears?
“Wow.” The word falls from my lips involuntarily. My eyes wander to where his tattoo should be, but his shorts are riding a little too high on his hips for me to see.
I want to see it. I want to see all of him.
“Oh.” He smirks, noticing where I’m staring as he shimmies his shorts down slightly, the black ink there again.
“I love it,” I admit, and he blushes again. “What made you get your tattoo?”
He shrugs. “I thought it was fun,” he says simply.
“It is, and it proves you’re kind of a brat,” I add because a hip tattoo that says “lucky you” is truly the brattiest tattoo I’ve ever seen.
“I could be far brattier. You’re lucky I normally tone it down for you,” he jokes, but I hate that.
“You don’t have to tone yourself down around me,” I tell him honestly.
“You say that now but…”
“I’m not just saying it, P. I mean it.” I hope no one has ever made him feel like he needs to change any part of who he is, but now is not the time to ask.
He nods at me, then climbs into bed, patting the empty spot beside him. “Come on.”
I smile to myself at the confirmation that he does want me here and strip down to my underwear—thankfully I’ve been in my head enough that I’m barely hard at this point—and get into bed opposite him.
“I have to ask you something,” Porter says, turning to face me, head on his pillow just inches from mine.
“Anything,” I confirm, matching his pose. It’s so intimate, and I can only imagine what he’ll ask, but my stomach is swimming with nerves.
“I was wondering if you’d want to join me at the lake house when you get back from your spring break trip? Josie rented it for my birthday, but she’s leaving Saturday morning for a thing with Carrie, and I don’t want to be there alone.”
My heart tugs in my chest at how sad his last few words sound.
“I don’t want you to be alone either,” I assure him.
I want to add that I don’t want him to ever sound that upset again, but hold back.
That’s too much. “We get back late Friday night, so I’ll drive up first thing Saturday morning. I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Thank you,” he says, nuzzling into his pillow. “Night, Will.”
“Good night.”
It’s only a minute before his breathing evens out, and I attempt to calm down enough to get some sleep.
As enlightening as tonight has been though, I wouldn’t change any of it.