Gale #2
He brushed his fingers over my skin, raising goose bumps, and feathered his knuckles over my straining erection, making me gasp and bite hard into my bottom lip.
Ozrik was equally aroused, his cock standing proudly at attention, so there was no reason to be embarrassed, but I couldn’t help feeling inferior.
We weren’t the same people, and at times like this, it showed.
My inexperience bothered me more than it did him. Ozrik seemed to enjoy taking a teaching role, and he never rushed, always ensuring I was on board.
When he leaned over, I expected a kiss. I closed my eyes in anticipation, but his hair tumbled against my forehead, and the kiss never came.
I opened my eyes and found him hovering so close that the kaleidoscope of browns in his eyes danced in the sunlight full of aching emotion.
“You’re so goddamn perfect,” he said against my mouth. “I feel like I’m tainting you with my evilness.”
“What? No. You’re not evil.”
“I’m not good like you.”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
“See? You have a potty mouth now, no thanks to me.”
“I’ve always said shut up.”
He arched a brow. “Even at priest school.”
I pinched his side and told him to shut up again.
Ozrik laughed, and I took the initiative for the first time, drawing him down into a kiss.
He sighed against my mouth. Too soon, he pulled back. “Gale… I don’t know if you have limits or expectations or wants or preferences, but I would really love to do more.”
“Like?”
“I want you to fuck me. Is that something you might consider? I don’t know how you feel about… that.” His gaze flicked over my face in anticipation.
My lips parted, but no words came out. I’d dreamed and fantasized and imagined what it might be like to have sex with a guy.
Something beyond hand jobs or blow jobs.
Lately, since exploring this new thing with Ozrik, all my fantasies featured him.
For whatever reason, I always assumed Ozrik would insist it happened the other way around.
Admittedly, the idea of bottoming made me nervous, but I’d been working myself up to the idea, not wanting to be a coward.
“We don’t have to,” he said into my silence, fret lines marking the sides of his eyes.
“I figured it would be a gentler introduction for your first time. I have condoms, if you’re worried or wondering about that.
I know my track record is vastly different than yours, but I do get tested.
Neurotically.” He rolled his eyes, and I wondered how much his mother knew of his sexual history and if it was her insistence or if he went on his own.
“I, um… I didn’t think you would…”
“Bottom?” He chuckled. “Gale, I will fuck any which way you want. It’s all good for me.”
“Oh.” I rubbed my lips together, nodding. “That’s… I’d… It would be…” I puffed out my cheeks and laughed at myself before blurting. “I think I would like that.”
“Is that a yes?” He cocked a brow.
“Yes, but I don’t know what I’m doing.”
It turned out, I didn’t have to know.
Kissing and touching were familiar and comfortable. We started there. In daylight, Ozrik seemed to want to explore me with his eyes as much as with his hands. He broke free from my mouth several times simply to scan the length of my body, humming with pleasure.
We frotted until the friction grew so intense, I thought I might come. My entire body buzzed with electricity, and Ozrik must have sensed it too, whispering zap into my ear several times, causing an eruption of laughter to interrupt our flow.
When the intensity became too much, he found a condom and a bottle of lube in a bedside drawer. Sitting back on his heels, he sheathed my cock in the rubber and coated it with lube, stroking me until I swatted his hand away in panic.
“It will be over before we start if you keep that up.”
Coating a couple of his fingers with lube, he rose to his knees and spent a minute preparing himself. I took detailed mental notes for the future, determined to walk away with a solid knowledge of all the steps I would need to take for next time.
As he used his fingers on himself, he encouraged me to stroke him. When Ozrik tipped his head back and parted his lips, I absorbed his beauty, still baffled that this seemingly untouchable guy was here with me.
After a minute, Ozrik readjusted himself, sitting astride my cock, and lined up. “Are you good?” he asked, his voice hoarse and strained.
“Yeah.”
“Hold yourself up.”
I did, and he rocked his hips, dragging his ass over my cock head a few times before sinking down.
A noise that should probably have embarrassed me left my mouth. My toes curled and back arched as the sensations rippling through my veins sent me right to the edge.
“Oh fuck. Shit.”
Ozrik chuckled. “I’ve ruined you.”
“Shut up. Oh shit. I’m not going to last. Are you kidding me right now?” He was so tight and hot, and his ass squeezed my cock in all the right ways.
Ozrik leaned over me, bracing a hand on either side of my head. A wicked smile played on his lips. “Coming is the point, Gale. Who cares if it happens fast or slow, so long as it feels good. We can do this as many times as we want.”
I groaned at the thought.
When Ozrik moved, my brain short-circuited. I clasped hold of his hips. It was all I could do to stay grounded, but even then, I floated away on a cloud of pleasure.
I didn’t know how long it lasted or if I set some kind of virgin record. The only thing that mattered was Ozrik’s mouth on mine, his body over top of me, and the way we moved.
Together.
I groped for purchase, clung to his arms, back, and hair. I whimpered, moaned, and gasped, chasing that sweet, sweet sensation that would soon destroy me.
At one point, Ozrik spoke against my mouth, into our kiss, “Touch me, Gale. Take me there.”
So I stroked him, and I took him there.
And we came.
Soon after, we collapsed, sweaty bodies pressed together.
The high was high, but the crash decimated us.
We snoozed, wrapped in each other’s arms.
Later that afternoon, we did it all over again.
Afternoon turned to evening. We wandered to the kitchen and found something to eat. Ozrik’s mom was nowhere to be found, and I registered concern on his face when he called her name and she didn’t respond. He checked his phone, typed a long message, but said nothing. I didn’t ask.
We returned to his bedroom and watched endless YouTube videos of Ozrik’s tornado chases over the years.
With an iPad propped on our drawn-up legs, Ozrik broke down the details of each and every chase.
The turtle probe interested me most, and he talked enthusiastically about their only successful run using it.
I asked a ton of questions, and Ozrik answered them with pride.
Once we’d exhausted episodes, we found a movie on one of his streaming services and settled in to watch it.
At one point, we heard his mother moving about in another part of the house, and I registered Ozrik’s relief. He excused himself for a minute, and I figured he was checking in with her.
The movie ended after eleven, and as I was about to suggest I head home since it was so late, Ozrik wrapped an arm around me, securing me in place as he nuzzled his face against my neck. “Don’t go. Spend the night.”
“Really?”
“Really. I want you in my bed.”
So I spent the night. To think that a handful of years ago, I was ready to give up this part of my life for good.
Briefly, I wondered what my dad would say when I ventured home in the morning, but at that moment, I was too wrapped up in Ozrik and our new relationship to care. It was a tomorrow problem.