Milo #4
“You beat the living shit out of him. You got in trouble at school, but you’d told the teachers and Marty about that asshole, and even with her help, the school never did anything.
So Marty was content to let you have fun during your suspension.
But what you didn’t know was that his dad showed up one day to talk to Marty and Dad. ”
“Really?” I asked, pushing the button for our floor. “You’re right, I didn’t know that.”
“Pretty sure it was supposed to stay that way,” Eli laughed, leaning back against the wall as the ancient but still serviceable car began its slow track upward.
It only went as high as the original building, which was the seventh floor, but from how slow it was, you’d think the thing was trying to reach space.
“I don’t know what happened, though. All I know is they went into the old office, there was some yelling, and his dad left quickly. ”
“Mom never did hold back when she was mad.”
“Yeeeah...remember how she had that old shotgun on the mantel in her office?”
“Yeah, thing’s been in the family forever, I guess. She always said it should still work because she took care of it like she was supposed to.”
“Okay, well, that shotgun wasn’t on the mantle. It was sitting next to her chair after that meeting.”
“Oh shit. You think she?—”
“I don’t know. What I think happened was that the rotten apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and that the dad was the reason his son was a bastard in the first place. I’m betting he tried to be intimidating, you know, because he was a big dude and she’s not exactly a big woman.”
I smirked. “Yeah, I can kinda see that. Mostly because Mom always said that shotgun was there in case anyone forgot that guns are the great equalizer. Always fond of saying it doesn’t matter how big you are, a shotgun blast to the chest is going to bring you down faster than a fist to the face.”
“So...yeah, that’s my thought,” he said with a chuckle.
“God, poor Marshall. She probably terrorized him.”
“Knowing her? Probably.”
“Speaking of terrorizing people,” I began, watching the numbers of the floors light up and go dim as the car moved. “What the fuck was that?”
“What?” he asked, but the confusion in his voice was too close to innocence, and I didn’t believe it for a minute.
I turned to glare at him. “You, Mr. Russian Fingers and Roman Hands.”
“What? This?” he asked, reaching forward and grabbing my now soft dick, giving it a gentle squeeze and pulling away.
“Do you have an exhibitionist kink or something?”
“I don’t want to get caught. But you know...doing things you shouldn’t at a place and time you shouldn’t be doing them is...fun. C’mon, you have to admit it was funny.”
“Funny? I about had a stroke!”
“Mmm, that was the funny part.”
“I take it that means you’re perfectly alright with what happened then?” I asked, wanting it to be true but not wanting to make the assumption. As well as we knew each other, that was uncharted territory for both of us. I didn’t want to leap ahead and find out I was going too far for him.
“No one would believe me if I told them that I’ve seen you get skittish, nervous, and doubting yourself,” he said, easing up from the wall.
“Can you blame me?” I asked with a sigh, shoving my hands into my pockets. “It’s...hard.”
“Not yet, but it can be,” he said.
“Huh?” But then he moved forward and kissed me, and I forgot about my confusion.
Hell, I forgot what to do with my hands, leaving them shoved into my pockets as he gently pushed me back against the elevator doors.
I moaned softly when his hands rounded my waist and held tight, keeping me steady as his lips parted mine.
Though my experience was limited, it was the most assertive thing he’d done, especially the part where he held me against the doors tightly.
Not that he hadn’t been forward when groping me the first time, but this definitely felt different, less searching and filled with intent.
Our tongues slid over one another, his hands sliding down to curve under each side of my ass and hold on tight.
A low noise escaped me as his fingers kneaded my ass, evoking a promise I had wanted to hear for years.
I didn’t want to assume that’s what he was doing, but I couldn’t pretend it wasn’t something I wanted.
In fact, thoughts of it were filling my head, whispering a promise as I felt his fingers knead their way closer and closer to?—
A soft ding and movement behind me made me spring forward in shock. I let out a little laugh when the doors slid open. I’d forgotten I’d been leaning against them.
Well, not leaning, more like pinned—by Eli.
“Fuck,” I breathed, looking over at Eli, who was watching me with an intensity I’d never seen before, but had always wanted aimed at me.
But there it was, my old dream coming to life right in front of me.
There was Eli, watching me with a horniness I had only dreamed of, his lips slightly puffy from the intensity of the kiss, and a noticeable and incredibly welcome bulge pushing out the front of his jeans. “Damn you, c’mere.”
I grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him with me.
I walked away from the elevator, letting the doors close before stopping to push him against the wall.
I knew everyone was still downstairs and probably wouldn’t be up for a while.
If someone did come up, the rarely used door to the stairwell would be noisy as hell, and the elevator would be no better; one of us would notice if it started moving.
Taking hold of the button of his jeans, I yanked them open hard enough that it was a testament to their craftsmanship that the button didn’t fly right off.
Reaching into his underwear, I felt him tense when I grabbed hold of his shaft, but any worry on my part disappeared when a low noise followed.
Glancing around one last time, I fished him out of his underwear and jeans, dropping to my knees.
I had already done it once and was eager to do it again.
Licking my lips, I gripped the base of his cock, which was so damn hard for me .
Without hesitation, I took him in my mouth; I had gawked like a tourist long enough.
His hand came to rest on the back of my head, fingers curling into my hair as I sank down on him, taking him into my throat.
I could deepthroat if I needed to, but I wasn’t the biggest fan; the sensation was too uncomfortable.
Not that it was usually necessary, the right combination of mouth and hand was more than enough to drive guys crazy.
As a groan rumbled out of Eli, I began working my hand and mouth in tandem.
I noted he was no different. Except he was.
From the lingering smell of his body wash, the low sounds he wasn’t afraid to make to show I was doing a good job, to the feel of him filling my palm and mouth, it was all so much different.
I had never been so immersed, beguiled, and enraptured by someone.
He could ask to fist me, and I couldn’t be sure that my horny brain wouldn’t eagerly nod and promptly bend me over right there in the hallway.
I really hoped he didn’t want to fist me.
“Fuck, fuck ,” he hissed, fingers curling tightly in my hair. “Stop, hold on!”
I pulled off, looking wide-eyed at him, a fracture cutting through the haze. “What? What?”
He panted, his grip on my hair easing before slowly looking down to stare at me on my knees.
Eli gave another shiver, sucking in a breath and running his hand from the back of my head to my face, stroking it gently.
“Okay, never expected to find the sight of you on your knees, ready to suck my soul out a turn on, but fuck me, here we are. Something out there somewhere owes me an explanation because this is...amazing.”
“Then why did you stop me?” I asked because anything else would have sounded like preening.
In moments of weakness, I’d tell myself that if Eli gave me even the slightest chance, I would do everything I possibly could to make sure the experience was pleasurable for him. It seemed like so far, I had managed.
“Because...I had an idea,” he said, taking a steadying breath.
“What idea?”
“Well, for tonight? Me fucking you.”
I actually felt the jerk of my cock trapped in my jeans as my mouth went dry. “I...you want to what?”
“Fuck you...if you’re good with that.”
“Fuck yes,” I said and stood up, whirling to hurry toward the rooms at the far end of the hall where we had spent our childhood, and then stopped. “Wait...isn’t that a little soon?”
“You said you’ve wanted me for years.”
“Okay?”
“So why are you questioning it? I mean, I was willing to let you suck me off, willing to grope you at the table, make out with you in the elevator, and about lost my shit watching you suck my dick on your knees. At this point, it makes sense that that’s the next step.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about you thinking about this as a series of steps.”
“Milo?”
“What?”
I watched as he reached down to grab the base of his cock, holding it out. “Do you want me to fuck you tonight or not?”
Even if I had a damn good reason to hold off...which I didn’t...because yes... yes I did. “Wish you would have told me. I'm not sure if my old stash of lube is any good.”
“Ugh,” he said, making me feel a little better when he looked sheepish and nervous.
I was slightly disappointed when he tucked himself back into his pants, but I raised a brow when he reached into his pocket, and I heard a faint crinkling.
Then, he drew out a few packages of what I recognized as lube.
“So, I grabbed these. You know, just in case.”
I stared at him. “You...brought lube?”
“I mean, it felt like the kind of night where we would end up crashing here. And if not, then it wouldn’t hurt to have it on me. And if you weren’t down with it, I wouldn’t need to worry about them. It just felt right to have them even if I didn’t use them.”