Chapter 11 #2
It was just nice to make out with someone, maybe?
“Um…” I finally manage, struggling to understand what happened. “I didn’t get what these girls are talking about. Can we try one more time? Like really throw yourself into it. Do whatever you’d do naturally.”
It’s the right way to sort this out, but also, I feel guilty because I know I’m more curious than I should be, not about him, but about what it was doing to me.
Marty doesn’t hesitate like he did before. His lips are locked against mine in no time, tongue back in my mouth. Fuck, he’s really going for it this time, and it’s fire searing across wet flesh.
I can’t even think straight. I just follow where it leads. As he cups my cheek, I guide him onto his back. I’m enjoying every moment, forgetting what the hell I was even doing, when he starts to pull away, but I lean forward, keeping him in place.
My cock stretches in my briefs.
Damn, this has really got me going.
But now that I’m stiff as a board, I realize I’m being greedy as hell.
This isn’t about me.
I think it’s gonna kill me to break the kiss, but I force myself, muttering, “Sorry, I think I got a little carried away there.”
“Yeah…uh…”
My gaze is drawn to his crotch, where he sports a—
“Mart, what the hell is that?”
“Oh fuck,” he says, sitting up quickly. “Nothing.”
“That’s a lot of inches of nothing.”
“Shut it!” he says, pushing to his feet and turning away from me. “I don’t know why it did that.”
I have a few ideas, but also more questions. “Where do you keep that concealed weapon? I’ve seen you in a fucking G-string.”
“I’m a grower, not a shower.”
“Apparently.” I’m awestruck by the bulge.
“And TaskFrat challenges don’t exactly get me wound up like that,” he adds. “Jesus, I knew this was a crap idea.”
I’m making him self-conscious, so I try to set him at ease. “Sorry, Mart. It just surprised me, but I’m hard too.”
“What?” He sounds offended.
He spins back around, and I can’t take my eyes off the bulge in his pants.
“Why are you hard?” he asks, studying mine.
“Probably for the same reason you are.”
He shakes his head. I imagine he’s struggling to make sense of this too. I’m racking my brain, trying to think if I’ve ever experienced anything similar to this with a guy before. There were times when the kissing was fun, but nothing like this.
“Well?” he spits out, looking at me as though expecting me to say something.
“Um…I’m trying to figure it out too.”
“What?” he says. “No, the notes. The whole reason we are in this mess.”
“Notes? Oh yeah, notes.” His size made me totally forget about what we were even doing in here.
I’m not thinking straight right now…no surprise there, I guess.
So I certainly can’t come up with a critique.
All I know is I’ve shared enough kisses to know a good kiss when I feel one, and that was an incredible kiss.
Which only adds to the questions this whole kissing thing has brought up.
“I’m sorry,” I say, “how many girls told you that you couldn’t kiss?”
“It was only one girlfriend, but obviously when she said that, it stuck with me.”
I’m relieved to hear it because otherwise whatever the hell just happened might’ve just been completely in my head. But I’m not done interrogating him. “What exactly didn’t she like?”
“That I like to kiss with my mouth open like that, and with tongue. She preferred closed-mouth kisses.”
“Ah!” It dawns on me. “I think what you’re looking at is people who have different preferred kissing styles because I can assure you, having kissed a lot of people, that was fine. More than fine. It was exceptional.”
He studies my expression. “Why did you say it like that?”
“Because I’m being honest. What was it like for you?”
He blushes, tucking his head low as he indicates his raging hard-on. I mean, that better be raging because what else is he gonna do with that thing if it gets any bigger?
“Okay,” Marty says. “I told you this was a weird idea, and it was, so can we stop now?”
“Wait. No, no. I think there’s definitely more to talk about here. That felt good to you, right?”
“Yeah, but you told me you’re a good kisser, so it’s not a huge surprise.”
“But did it feel like…good good?” I press.
His eyebrows twist up. “That’s the least descriptive way you could have phrased it.”
“You liked it, though?”
“Is this why you wanted to set me up? So you could make fun of me?”
“I’m asking a sincere question. And how can you even say that? I’m hard too.”
He seems to relax as I remind him of that important fact.
“It felt good, and that causes an erection,” Marty explains.
“Yeah, ’cause I need the middle school sex ed class now. No, it felt good for you, kissing me.”
“We’ve been over this part.”
“You bi?”
“What, no?” Although, he doesn’t sound as confident as I’d expect from someone who knows they’re straight. “I have never… I’m into Angie. That’s why I was even doing all this. So I could get with a girl.”
“And…?”
“I don’t know why you had to make this so fucking complicated.”
“Hey, you were fine with giving this a try.”
“Because I thought you were gonna help me, not scramble my fucking brain.”
“Okay, come here,” I say, pushing to my feet and approaching him.
“Don’t touch me.”
“I’m not going to touch you. Just sit on the bed, and let’s talk this out.”
He glares at me as I approach, and I’m admiring that even as my dick is going soft, his is still standing firm. And that’s making my mouth water for some reason.
I guide him back to the bed, and we settle beside each other again, quieting as we think this through.
“It could have been a fluke,” he finally says.
“Twice for me, at least. Both kisses I was getting hard during.”
“Same here.”
Oh, really?
“Were you thinking of a girl while we were kissing?” I ask.
“Honestly, I wasn’t doing much thinking. You?”
“Wasn’t doing much thinking either.”
He studies his crotch like he’s realizing that here we are, even after all this awkwardness, and he’s still got that baseball bat between his legs.
And I’m not sure why the hell that intrigues me so much.
“Maybe we try it again,” I suggest.
“Huh?” His brows tug closer together.
“To see what happens.”
“We did that already.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I think I would want to try it again…”
“Why?” He eyes me suspiciously.
“Clearly, you’re not where I’m at, but I’m wondering if this means something about me, and it would help me figure that out, but maybe it’s only me, so never mind.”
As many questions as he’s got in his head, I have my own too.
“Not sure I’ve ever heard you ramble before.” He nudges my shoulder with his.
“Shut it,” I throw back at him.
“Okay, so no notes on the kiss, then?” He turns to me, quirking a brow.
“Not sure I’ve ever seen you cocky before.” I must admit, it’s kind of hot.
“Well, that’s good to know that I’ve been freaking out the past few years of my college life about something that isn’t even a thing for me.”
“Could be worse. We could have had to keep on practicing until you got it right.”
It’s the sort of thing I might’ve teased him about before our kiss, and I detect something in his expression as he studies my lips again.
“Yeah, that would have sucked,” he mutters so low, I’m surprised I can even make out the words.
“I mean…” Before I can finish my thought, he moves quickly, and our jaws clash before his lips are back on mine, Marty pouncing me like an animal, and soon I’m on my back, sliding my hand around his waist as that tongue slips back between my lips.
I’m not sure what the hell he’s doing, and I don’t really care so long as he keeps on kissing me.