Chapter Eleven
Eric
I flop onto my bed and immediately tug out of my shorts and underwear. I have no idea what just happened out there, and I have no time to sort through it, not with how bad my balls need emptying.
What the fuck even was that? I never got wood from someone stroking my hair.
I never got wood from Donovan doing it.
But it’s not as if I never noticed Donovan. How could I not? His strong jawline. The way his lips turn up into a mischievous grin. The way his smile lights up a room. The body he’s worked so hard on over the years but now just seems to magically stay incredibly fit without as much work.
I reach over, tug open the drawer of my nightstand, pump some lube into my hand, and then give my aching dick a slow, measured stroke.
Like…how does he have such nice abs? I work out way more than him to keep mine looking the way they do. He was so small when we were younger, though. He was still cute, of course, but wow, twenty-eight-year-old Donovan is pretty hot, isn’t he? How are the guys not all over him all the time?
My hand moves faster, my grip tighter. My balls are maybe the fullest they’ve ever been.
I look down at my thick, swollen shaft, slick with lube. Precum leaks from my slit and…does Donovan precome a lot? He’s in the next room over, jerking himself too, naked, on his bed with a hand wrapped around his shaft…maybe a finger or two in his hole.
My dick twitches, my body feeling slightly jittery, scintillating pleasure making my skin tingle.
I clumsily pump lube into my other hand, let my finger dip behind my nuts. Legs spread, I circle my rim, sending jolts of pleasure through me.
My cock is so fucking red, the veins in my shaft full and thick. Is Donovan thinking about what I’m doing in here? Is he just as hard as me? Just as fucking needy? Is he obsessing about me in the weird-ass way I can’t seem to stop myself from obsessing about him?
Stop thinking about Donovan!
I don’t have a problem thinking about him, but he might not like it.
I already asked the guy to jerk off with me.
I’m full of best-friend fouls tonight. Perving on your person while jerking off has to be breaking some kind of bro-code rules, doesn’t it?
Especially when I’ve never thought about a dude when it comes to sex before.
This is a new development, but I’m too blissed out to even think about it that much.
I push the tip of my finger into my ass, use my other hand to pay a lot of attention to my head. I’m so fucking sensitive, every inch of me feeling like it’s lit up and the fuse is getting shorter and shorter.
I know Donovan is more of a bottom than a top.
He loves his ass played with. Does he have a finger or two inside himself right now?
He’s the reason I do—not because of my sudden obsessive thoughts; I tried it years ago because I knew he liked it.
I wanted to know what made Donovan feel so good, and he’s right. It’s fan-fucking-tastic.
A soft whimper slips past my lips while I stroke and fuck myself. Does Donovan make noises when he comes? How big are his loads? Mine are fucking huge, and a strange question pops into my head: would Donovan think my big loads are hot?
I pull my finger almost all the way out, then push it in again, hand tugging hungrily at my cock. A vision of Donovan arching off the bed fills my mind, of him shooting on those pretty abs, his load against his gorgeous brown skin.
My whole body shakes. My vision goes blurry.
I push my finger in deeper, rub over my prostate and feel like I’m flying to the moon when my balls draw tighter and I shoot on my belly, just like I wondered if Donovan had done.
I keep working my dick through my orgasm, playing with my spot because it’s one of my favorite things and I’m so fucking glad I gave it a try.
It’s like there’s a never-ending supply of jizz in my balls as I keep coming, my release running down my shaft, pooling in my belly button, landing as high up my body as my pecs.
“Holy fuck,” whispers past my lips. That was one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had. I really must have needed it and…and I did it thinking about Donovan.
That’s…new.
A little confusing, but also not…? I probably should be more mixed up than I am. Maybe it was the combination of the things Ana was saying earlier, plus knowing he almost jacked off in the shower, and then…whatever that had been on the couch.
Donovan and I getting hard together.
And maybe I didn’t mean to ask him to jerk with me at first, but the fact that I was willing when he misunderstood me…and disappointed when he said no…
I grin.
I don’t know why I’m grinning. Maybe because I’m confused and so even my mouth doesn’t know what to do.
I can’t deny that I’m curious now—what this means and why I can’t stop thinking about him.
A soft knock on my door draws my attention. “Babe? I mean, Eric? You okay?”
Why did he take back the babe? He’s called me that for years. I especially liked it when he said it around Malcolm because that motherfucker hated it. “Yeah. I’m good. Just dying.”
“Oh…it’s been thirty minutes, so I wanted to make sure.” His voice is soft, to the point where I can barely hear him. He sounds uncertain, and that sends a jolt of doubt and worry through me. Did we fuck things up?
No way. I refuse to even consider that as a possibility. I’ll be the exact same way as I’ve always been with Donovan and reassure him that everything is okay…and maybe reassure myself too.
“Sorry. I’m still trying to come back to earth, and I’m covered in jizz. Give me a minute.”
“Only you,” he says, sounding more like himself.
I don’t have a bathroom in my room, so I grab the underwear I just took off to mop up the cum. “Hey. If you’re still there, can you get me a wet washcloth? I’m gonna be sticky.”
“Oh, um…yeah.”
I sit on the side of the bed, using my shorts to cover my dick.
I really have to make sure I’m being respectful of Donovan when it comes to that, though he did admit his discomfort came from some fucked-up fear that I would think he wants me.
I don’t think that. I’m not dumb enough to believe he sees me as anything more than a friend.
A moment later the door opens slowly and Donovan peeks inside. “Can I come in?”
“Yes.” I grin.
He just jerked off. Did he use a finger in his ass too? What thoughts were going through his head?
“What are you smiling at?” He walks over and hands me the washcloth.
He’s wearing a different pair of shorts than he had on before.
His are smaller and tighter than I wear, and they really show off his pert ass.
Which is something I’ve noticed before. I had to have since I’m not seeing his ass right now. What the fuck?
“Just thinking about the fact that we were jacking off at the same time. Seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard. I must have needed it.” I wipe off my belly and chest, still keeping the goods covered.
“Right? Me too.”
“Yeah?” I look up at him and…are his cheeks pink?
“Yes. God, I can’t believe we did this.”
“I liked it,” I admit. “It was hotter knowing you were doing it too.”
He gets that slightly pinched look on his face he has when he’s trying to figure something out. “Okay…”
Okay? What does okay mean? “I need to wipe my junk, D. I don’t care if you stay or see, but if you don’t want to, now is the time to turn around.”
Our gazes don’t leave each other’s. He swallows noticeably.
“I’ll stay…if you’re sure you don’t mind.
Again, not in a gross way, but you’re the one who always gets naked in front of me.
I was worried you’d take it the wrong way if I saw something.
Since that’s not an issue now…well, I can go.
Maybe I should go? I have no reason to stay. ”
I chuckle. “I have zero embarrassment about being seen naked. That’s not really my style. And you’re rambling. You’re not usually a rambler.”
“Yeah, well, try being gay and attempting to figure out what the fuck is going on with us tonight. It’s stressful.”
“Hey.” I reach out and take his hand. “It’s me. You don’t ever have to be stressed with me.”
“I’m fairly certain you have dried cum and lube on your hand,” he reminds me.
“Oops.” I let go of him, give him another second, and when Donovan doesn’t leave or turn away, I drop the shorts to the floor, then wipe the cum and lube from my pubes, cock, and balls.
Donovan is actually seeing my dick right now. There’s no possibility he hasn’t caught a glimpse before, but it would have been quick because that’s always when he would turn away or pretend to study the wall or something. He’s not now.
Does he like what he sees?
Why does it matter if he does?
“Are you going to make me hobble to my dresser, or do you mind getting me underwear?”
“Oh. Sure. Sorry.” Donovan walks away, and this time, I do get to see his ass, and yep, the shorts definitely show off his tight, pert butt. He always wears Speedos when we swim, and those are hard not to notice. “Do you want shorts?”
“You like me in my underwear, so maybe I shouldn’t,” I tease.
“Fuck you.” My boxer briefs suddenly hit me in the face. I laugh. “I’m just being honest. Your words, not mine.”
“I like it when you shut up too. Why don’t you try that?”
I put my underwear on and breathe out a sigh of relief. We’re being us right now. Nothing has changed. We didn’t break us.
“Never,” I reply.
“Annoying,” he answers, but then hands me my crutches, even though they’re close enough for me to reach. “One episode, and then I need to go to bed.”
“Me too so I can wake up to make my Insurance Daddy breakfast.”
He rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know. I want to,” I answer more seriously. I love doing things for Donovan.
“Okay. You know, my dad is bummed by the fact that I’m not a great cook,” he teases. “I took after my mom in that respect. He was always the one who made the meals for her, and now you do it for me.”
“You could do it. You just choose not to.”
We return to the living room, me taking a quick stop in the bathroom to wash my hands on the way.
He sits down, and I lie with my head in his lap again.
Donovan restarts the episode because we both missed most of it last time, and then…
then his fingers automatically go to my head, scratching my scalp and running through my hair.
“Ooh! We forgot to look up kittens!” I shout.
“Shh. Tomorrow. We’ll cross that bridge then.”
He’s right. This feels too good to interrupt.
As we sit here together, watching the show, I’m so fucking thankful we’re still us, and like always, grateful that I’m lucky enough to have Donovan as my person.