Chapter Thirty-Seven
Giles
We’ve done this enough times now that it feels familiar, but even that is startling, new, so fucking exciting.
The touch of his hand on my back as we kiss and his fingertips pressed into my flesh.
The taste of his tongue and mouth – coffee, pastry and a warm summer evening.
The noise he makes as our teeth clash and our erections press against each other through clothes I’m desperate to remove.
But there’s something very different about what’s happening now.
It’s like a filter has been removed. Like a veil has been lifted and I get to kiss him and touch him and hold him in a new reality for the first time.
I’m not here to teach him anything. He’s not here because he wants to learn how to do this. We’re together because we want to be.
My brain snags on the fact that what we revealed to each other actually means that it was always like that. We were both always where we wanted to be, but we were lying to each other, and maybe also to ourselves.
What a mess.
And maybe we’re not out of that mess. We haven’t talked about what a relationship between us would actually look like.
I don’t know what Marcello expects or wants from me, and I don’t know if he knows just how hard I’ve fallen for him, but there’s time for that.
We may not be as young as we once were, but we still have time.
Right now, I only want to focus on his body and his pleasure.
I do so by diving my hands into his boxers and grabbing handfuls of his backside.
The flesh there is soft but when I squeeze more, I feel the muscle too.
I love how his butt is covered in a dusting of dark hairs and I find them lining his crease too.
I slide an experimental finger down the valley between his buttcheeks and then pull my mouth away from his.
“You okay with this?”
He nods and then rolls me onto my back so I have better access.
His hair falls down around me, making me feel like he and I are in our own completely separate, curtained off universe.
I watch his expression as I dive my finger down lower.
There’s more hair, more warmth and the pleated knot of his anus.
I circle it and I’m both surprised and delighted when he hums.
“It sort of tickles,” he says.
“Nobody has ever touched you here?” I ask and try and ignore the kick of hope at that possibility. I continue to rub gentle circles around his hole.
“Yeah, some girls have tried. I’ve had a finger in the arse a few times and didn’t hate it but I also didn’t love it.
What you’re doing is different though. It feels…
more affectionate. And honestly,” he huffs out a rough chuckle, “I never thought somebody could touch an arsehole, my arsehole affectionately.”
“The goal is to try and relax it. Your hole and you.”
“I can see that, or rather, I can feel that.” He lifts his head slightly, parting the curtains of his hair so more light gets in and I can see his eyes are closed and his lips rub together.
Pulling my hand away, I spit on my fingers while pulling down his boxers with my other hand.
Marcello helps me out and by the time my wet fingers are back on him, he’s taken them off his body completely.
This makes it much easier to find him and slide my slick fingertips over his hole.
Applying more pressure, I am rewarded by a rough groan.
“Where’s that bottle of lube?” he asks. “The one I left here.”
“Not yet. Let me take my time with you.”
“But what else could you possibly do, other than get me ready with your fingers which you are doing very, very well, by the way.”
“It’s not my first rodeo,” I say but actually there is something about this moment that screams “first”.
This is the first time I have felt so much for a man.
This is the first time I have wanted to make every single thing perfect for my partner.
This is the first time I have wanted to make sex last as long as I possibly could because my mind is quiet and I am completely in my body.
I don’t want to count. I’m not thinking about anything but Marcello, Marcello, Marcello, and the best part is, I’m allowed to think like that.
I don’t have to hide or downplay that that is all I want to think about.
“I could eat you,” I tell him.
“Eat me?”
“Your arse.”
“You want to eat my arse?” Marcello blinks at me. “My hairy arse.”
“I don’t mind hair.”
“And yet you have none.” He strokes my chest and licks his lips.
I freeze but then breathe out and some of the tension leaves my body. “I don’t want hair on my body, and I'll explain why later. It's a bit more complicated than what I've told you before. But just because I don't want hair on my body, doesn't mean I don’t like it on my lover’s body.”
“Your lover, eh? I don’t think I’ve ever been called somebody’s lover.”
“So what do you say, lover? Can I eat your ass and help get you ready for me?”
“If it feels anywhere near as good as what you’re doing with your finger, it’s a very enthusiastic yes from me.”
Keeping my grip on his ass cheeks, I flip us so he’s on his back. I then move off him and slide down his body, settling between his legs, which I gently push back up against his body.
“Oh, you’re going to do it like that?” Marcello cranes his neck to look down at me.
“Can I?”
“I mean, yeah, I guess, I just… You have to remember I am clueless about all this.”
“Then let me teach you,” I say as I spread his cheeks. “Let me teach you how good this can feel.”
I dive down and put my mouth on him. My tongue dances over his hole and he moans.
I smile against his skin as I spit and use the saliva to push my tongue against the circle of muscle that presses back against me.
When Marcello hums again and brings a hand to the back of my head, I keep doing what I’m doing.
Licking, kissing, sucking, loving on this sensitive and hidden part of him.
Only when he starts to wriggle and writhe around on the bed, do I pull back completely. I briefly wipe the sweat away from my forehead with the back of my hand – I’d forgotten how ridiculously hot eating ass can get – and then I finally move to get the lube from my bedside table.
It’s not the bottle he left here – I put that safely out of sight in my bathroom – but there’s more than enough in this tube for what we want to do.
After applying lube to my dick and Marcello’s hole, I use my glistening hand to play with his cock which is hard against his lower stomach.
I’ll miss not having it inside me, I think briefly, but then I remember that there’s no end date to what we’re doing.
Not anymore. This is not a once-a-week Sunday sex lesson. This is the start of our forever.
“Fuck, I love watching you play with me.” Marcello curls up his upper body, a hand behind his head and his eyes pinned on my movements.
“Watch me as I spread you open for me,” I tell him and push the pad of a lube-wet finger against his hole with my other hand. I go as slow as I can, waiting until there is a little give so I can push in gently.
“Push down on me,” I tell him.
“What?”
“Bear down.”
“Like I want to do a shit?”
“Yeah, kinda.” I rub him gently in the way I know he likes.
When his hole gives a little, I slide the tip of my finger in. I keep it like that, only up to the first knuckle and wait for him to adjust.
“That okay?” I keep stroking his dick but with a loose grip and a slow pace.
“Yeah. You can go deeper.
I watch him as I do. He flinches slightly as I push past the second ring of muscle and then he exhales, roughly.
“Still okay?
He nods, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip.
“Ready for another finger?”
“Yeah,” he grunts.
I take my hand off his dick and reach for the lube.
I squeeze more out onto my hand and apply it to my middle finger.
After pulling my index finger out of Marcello, I press back against his hole with two digits.
I’m momentarily taken aback by how hot and silky smooth and tight he is around my fingers, but then I focus on Marcello.
There’s no flinching, but he is holding his breath.
“Breathe.” I stroke his leg, from his knee down to his groin.
“Two fingers feels… different.”
“I know. It can feel like a lot.”
“And yet you take me so easily, so well.”
I melt with his praise, but don’t dwell on it. I have a job to do. “And you’re taking me brilliantly too.” I push my fingers in a little deeper and search for the firm texture of his prostate.
“I don’t know if I can take more than this.” Shifting his hips a little.
“You don’t have to,” I tell him and kiss his knee.
“I want to!” His voice is raised.
“Then we’ll try, but you have to remember I’ve been doing this for years. This is your very first time. I don’t have any expectations.”
“Well, I do. I want this to be perfect. It’s our first time since I told you I love you.”
I feel like my heart is blowing up like a balloon inside my chest. “And I love you, but we have forever to try this.”
“Forever?” Marcello cocks an eyebrow.
“Well, if we keep working out and eating well, who knows?” I tease back.
“I hope I do have forever with you.” He brings a hand to cup my cheek. “Whether it’s in this life or the next.”
“And the next.” I kiss the heel of his hand. “Now be a good boy and lie back while I add another finger.”
“Cazzo, I shouldn’t like you saying that so much.”
I laugh lightly but I’m busy focusing on getting my third finger slicked up. I bundle the three digits together to slide them into Marcello and while he takes them easily enough, I can tell from the way his body tenses, it’s still not comfortable.
“Just take some deep breaths.” I bring my other hand to his stomach and stroke the hair there. He’s all but lost his erection which doesn’t bother me in the slightest. It happens to me when I bottom sometimes. I’m much more concerned about how he’s doing in his head.