CHAPTER 25
Jesse
“Y-yeah. O-okay.”
Why am I stuttering? I knew that’s what he meant.
All of me. The sensations the words brook make me shudder.
I know guys can do that to guys, do do that to other guys, but I guess I figured that was off-limits for us. It seems like it would exceed the limits of some friend code or exploring. And, yet, here we are.
Or rather, there is Murph. On his hands and knees, ass presented for me. Me.
Never have I seen such a sight. Never has a bare body left me speechless to the point my brain has quit functioning. When did he cease looking like my buddy and instead become an awe-inspiring gift?
Now? Probably now.
“Jesse?”
“Yeah?”
I realize I’m still ogling his presentation when he doesn’t respond. He’s looking back at me intently; equal parts want and concern.
“You remember we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, right? You say the word, and we’re fine.”
“Yeah.” I nod, but I keep replaying his words in my head.
I need more.
More of you.
I want all of you.
Murph needs me. All of me. Me.
Not someone else. Not Philip or Rod or some stranger in Seattle. Me. Jesse Carver. Best friend.
I thought maybe I wasn’t enough. He hasn’t called or texted since we got back unless I got ahold of him first. Now, he’s bared his ass for the taking and wants my cock in it.
I don’t know if a good friend should say no or how I’m even supposed to accomplish this, but I nod. I want us to be beautiful, like his porn. I want to experience what it’s like to be beautiful with him.
“No, I… I want to.”
Shifting around behind him on my knees, I get the view from a new angle. Damn, he’s gorgeous; thick thighs, beefy cheeks, perfectly curved, a dusting of hair sprinkled in his crease.
How a guy’s ass, his hole, and his drawn-up sack are gorgeous, I don’t quite understand. Maybe because it’s Murph. Or probably. Or definitely. My friend, the man I care about and respect more than any other person on the planet. A guy who served his country, lost his father, takes care of his mom and his land—and what he wants is me. Me, to give him this incredibly intimate thing. Because it is intimate; it’s not just sex if it’s us, is it? At least, not for me.
I try not to take anything too seriously. I spent my life with a brother who did and looked miserable because of it. I think that’s what has me hesitating now. This is very serious. It feels like he’s giving me something precious. He’s trusting me with his body, and he knows it’s my first time. I’m grateful it’s him. I can’t imagine it being with anyone else, but how can he have so much faith in me?
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” he whispers. “Just use lots of lube, on both me and yourself.”
Hand trembling, I tear open the condom and somehow manage to put it on. Coating my shaft in lube, I can’t tear my gaze from his hypnotic backside. The perfect line of his spine connects to the part above his meaty globes that I’ve palmed dozens of times now. The shadowed part of his crease and the puckered skin in the center are like a beacon for where he wants me.
There. In there.
What if I’m terrible? What if he hates it? I don’t want to let him down.
“Are you sure you’re sure?”
“Jesse… look at me.” I do, even though I realize that was metaphorical when he adds, “What else do I have to do? Put a sign on it? Yes. I want it.”
Glancing at my glistening hand, I swallow, and then reach for him. His pucker greets my fingertips with a small twitch, like a living, breathing thing, invigorated by my touch. His contented sigh sends a wave of heat through me. He’s mesmerizing, the way he’s responding to each brush and swirl of my fingertips. And that he’s warm there, so warm, promises of the environment awaiting me.
My cock is twitching at the sight and sensations, eager for the unknown. Taking myself in hand, I delicately brush my tip over his entrance. He lets out a puff of breath and pushes back against me. His body barely gives way, letting me know just how restricted my target is.
Gripping his hip, I ease back. “It won’t fit,” I warn, panic seizing my chest, and maybe even disappointment.
“It will.”
“It won’t. My dick is too big.”
He peers over his shoulder. I don’t understand why he looks so calm. “It’s not. Trust me.”
I’m too spun up to contemplate if that’s a size dig as I reassess my cock and the tiny circumference of his hole. I don’t care what he says. Shaking my head adamantly, I have to tell him for his own good.
“It is. It’s huge. I’ll hurt you.”
“You won’t. I know a trick. Just push against me.”
“A trick? Does it involve magic dust? Because I don’t see how else this can safely work.”
Sitting up on his knees, he twists and cups my jaw. “Jesse, do you want to do this?”
Shit. I’ve ruined the moment.
Listen to me, calling it a moment when this is probably no big deal to him. I mean, he’s done it before. Clearly. He knows tricks for crying out loud.
“I… did; until I did the math.”
Chuffing, he kisses me and smiles. “Do you trust me?”
Is that a trick question? There’s no one I trust more. “Yeah. Always.”
“Then trust me when I say we’ll both enjoy this, and no one will get hurt.”
I nod because I want to believe him. He turns back around and resumes his position.
“I’m ready when you are,” he assures me like that’s supposed to make me less wary.
Man, my dick has never looked bigger. It’s like an optical illusion at one of those fun houses. Sucking in a breath, I bring my tip to his pucker again.
When I press forward, Murph presses back. There’s too much resistance, just as I thought. How did they do this in his porn?
I’m ready to throw in the towel and accept this wasn’t meant to be, but his hand reaches back. He grips my thigh and doubles down on his thrust.
Oh, no. He’s going to break my dick. What is he thinking? It’ll be like a battering ram hitting a wall.
“Murph, I think—”
Holy shit. By the power of Lasso Ted, he just swallowed my tip!
Was that the trick he was talking about? His ring just gave way and pulled me in like a portal. A tight, hot, greedy portal.
The carnal sound he lets out has me tensing. “Was that… a good noise… or a bad noise?”
His body is constricting me so much, I can barely form words.
“Good.” It comes out all throaty and half-possessed sounding. If his head spins around, I don’t care how good this feels. I’m out of here. “Work your way… in now,” he pants.
Fuuuck. I might die if I do. Now that I know I haven’t broken him or myself, my body is demanding I give him what he’s asking for.
Shut up, body. This is Murph. You can’t plow him like a field.
Exhaling, I try to think of disgusting things and run my hands in soft caresses over the tense muscles in his back.
Badgers.
Sea-Monkeys.
Little fellas decked out in flair who wear buttons and touch people too much.
It’s not really working. He feels too damn good. I don’t know how long I can be a gentleman.
With each gentle nudge of my hips, he captures me centimeter by centimeter until a bead of sweat dribbles down my temple. Each of his little grunts sends a zip of electricity through me. Finally, my pelvis brushes against his cheeks.
I’m there. I made it.
Shit. He’s like a cock furnace, hugging me in a death grip that has me wanting to come. I don’t know what’s more surreal—that I’m inside my best friend or the overwhelming feelings in my chest. I feel like I’m both at his funeral and the day he was born. Is my freaking life flashing before my eyes from this dick squeeze? I could almost cry.
Leaning forward, I press a kiss to the back of his neck. I have the overwhelming urge to thank him. He’s panting and letting out soft groans with every exhale.
“Are you good?” I whisper.
“You have no idea how good. Are you?”
“Yeah.”
I’ve never been better, but I’m still hesitant to believe him. Sliding my hand around his hip, I slip it over his cock. He’s hard, so he must be finding some pleasure in this. I give him a stroke and am greeted by a kiss of precum when I reach his tip. His back rumbles underneath my chest. He rocks forward and then back, exploding a burst of delicious tingles through my lower half.
I have no idea how long he’s going to be interested in messing around with a bumbling ‘straight guy’ like me, nor do I understand how this can feel good for him, but I’m carefully going to live in the moment.
Slowly, I start to move my hips, stroking his cock. It feels like a free fall into an abyss of his scent, his warmth, and his sounds. I always thought we were close, but I’ve never felt so close to him. It’s like he’s an extension of my soul at the moment.
I hope he doesn’t go back to Seattle for a long, long, long, long time.