I like her. A lot. #3
Everything has changed a lot in the last few weeks, and it begins to crash down on me like the heaviest waves the ocean can send.
“I gotta catch a shower,” I tip my head toward the hall, walking away from the topic because I don’t know what else to do.
Stay and end up admitting to her something I’m not quite sure I’ve admitted and accepted myself?
No way .
Collecting Salsa off her lap, she deposits him next to her, but no cat can have their ego bruised that way, so as soon as she releases him, he jumps down and takes off.
“Too warm?” I ask, suddenly a little short of breath as I slowly move toward the shower, pacing backward.
She shakes her head. “Thought you could use some company.”
I reach out and steady myself against the hall wall. Delane laughs, and the soft purr of it makes my balls tingle. Or maybe that’s an ache I’m feeling. My heart is beating so fast, and my mind is reeling–pinpointing anything is hard right now. Other than… Delane is going to watch me get naked.
“I’ll just keep you company. I’ll sit on the closed toilet or something,” she says casually, and I have a moment of fear where I picture Delane sharing the details of her day with another man, only a shower curtain dividing them.
I don’t like the idea of her with another man. I never have. But now, now that she’s been in my home… used my key… gifted my balls with her lips–it almost makes me crazy. Painfully so.
I hook my head toward the hall. “Let’s go.
” And then I hold my hand out to her, which stops her up for a second.
Just a second, though, because she feeds her fingers between mine, and both of us hold tight.
I smile as I walk us the few steps toward my bedroom.
I’m almost to my bathroom when she tugs back on my hand, halting us.
Turning to bring us face to face, I find her peering around my darkened room curiously.
With the drapes open a foot or so, moonlight paints a thick stripe of glowing light across my bed.
It’s enough light to see her eyes and how they’re sparkling more than any star in the sky just outside. Her white teeth shine as she grins.
“You make your bed before you go to work,” she breathes, bringing her thumb between her lips, nibbling. This cage is seriously shrinking. And my balls are definitely growing because the weight of them between my legs has me holding my core tight, controlling my breathing.
“Yeah,” I manage, heart thudding. “It’s good for m—” I stop myself, questioning if I should say what I was going to say.
She blinks, looking up at me with concern in her eyes.
“I like to keep my space neat. It’s an offset control thing.
” I huff out a breath in fatigue because I don’t like talking about this stuff. Not at all.
She squeezes our linked hands, and my pulse hammers in my throat in response.
“I can’t control my past or how my family chooses to live. It’s a way to not fixate on those aspects, I like to keep my place tidy, as a way of controlling what I can, I guess.”
Her dark lashes flutter right along with my stomach.
“I’m not a controlling person, though. I swear I wouldn’t be a—” a what? A controlling boyfriend? She doesn’t care about that. I swallow, finding my throat too dry to bring relief. “I’m not a controlling person, that’s all. I just like my space neat.”
Rocking to her toes, she drops my palm only to reach up and take my face in her hands. Her lips are slow and soft when they press against mine. She opens her mouth, filling mine with her wet tongue and soft moans.
I could cum from this; I know I could.
I want to tell her that as she reaches between us, cupping my cage, sinking the tips of her small fingers into my swollen balls. A grunt erupts between us from me, and she laughs against my mouth, never stopping the kiss.
My brain goes into a sort of shock as I realize I want to tell her that I could cum from this . I want to say those forbidden but honest, real words .
I pull away from her, my chest rising and falling like I can hardly breathe. My lips twitch, and I am out of breath. She rests a palm between my pecs and rubs slow, calming circles but doesn’t say anything like she knows I need to say something.
Her other hand still cradles my caged groin as she sends comfort rippling through me in warming waves.
“I could,” I start, finding my voice weak and wobbly. I lick my lips, take a small kiss from her–shocked at how I’m free to do that now and give my voice a spine. “I could cum from this, you know. Having you touch me and kiss me and just… be in my arms in my own house.”
“Jesus, Miller,” she breathes, her chest working in fast circuits, up and down. Her lips are parted perfectly, giving me just a peek at her pink tongue as she breathes. “That’s… the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”
I want to smile, but the muscles in my face don’t seem to want to do anything. All I can do is stare into her eyes and hold back the groan barreling through my chest at how hot it is to have her holding my gr— my cock that she caged.
“I don’t believe that. I know what you listen to.” I try to give her a weak smile, but I’m just… paralyzed by my reality.
She presses her chest to mine, looking up at me like I’m a feast and she’s starved. The cage grows smaller by the second, or her hand clutches me more tightly.
“Believe me when I say that you are incredibly fucking sexy, Miller.” One finger drags along the seam of my sac.
“You are hot and sexy, and the idea that I could turn you on enough and make you cum without my tongue or my pussy?” She shakes her head, and I get a whiff of her shampoo.
Precum rushes from me in waves, and I flex and tighten my groin, dying for some relief from this beautiful, sexy torture .
“The hottest fucking thing ever.” She crashes her mouth into mine, then moves it along my jaw and down the side of my throat. Her moans smear against my skin, and my cock reacts with another steady rush of precum.
“Say you’re hot and smart and hung,” she commands as her lips carve a hot trail across my collarbone.
I blink at her, mind foggy with possibility and a trapped boner that is quite frankly starting to make me a little mental.
“Say it,” she says, flicking my balls and making me jump. She wraps her arm around my neck and holds my balls gently in her palm, rolling them slowly.
“I’m hot and smart and hung,” I huff out, feeling…
stupid . Or, I felt stupid right before I spoke, but now that I have, and I’m looking down into her luminous eyes, I don’t actually feel that.
She smiles and takes my mouth with a short, hot kiss.
She’s happy. I feel happy. Not… embarrassed the way I thought saying those things about myself would make me feel.
“You’re hot, smart, and hung, and when the time is right, you’re going to take that big cock you carry between your legs all day, and you’re going to fuck me with it.
You’re going to own my body, and I’ll fall to my knees, waiting for you to say when.
” She curls her tongue into my open mouth, then steals a kiss. “But we’re nowhere near that yet.”
I feel relief that we aren’t and also like I’ll die if I don’t experience every single word she’s just said. But I couldn’t be that guy that fucks her. Not yet. And the last thing I want to do is disappoint her.
“Now shower,” she says, falling back onto her heels. Once we’re in the bathroom with the lights on and the shower running, she hops up onto the counter, biting her bottom lip as she watches me.
“Is it weird for me to watch you get in the shower? ”
All of me wants to say yes because… it's a lot of exposure and vulnerability after showing my balls to no one except Salsa in the last… forever. But I want to do it because she knows it’s a lot of giving on my part.
She understands where I came from and knows that I’m a virgin.
Showing her where I’ll go for her, maybe she’ll start to see how I feel.
I hope. Because saying the words feels nearly impossible.
I swallow through the excruciating dryness of my throat.
“I want you to,” I admit, feeling a bit out of body at the whole experience.
Do I want her to? I think this must be like saying I could cum like this.
I was scared to say it before, but after saying it, I realized the fear was kind of just something I concocted because with Delane, I know she wants this.
There’s no guessing. She’s here, on my counter, waiting for me to strip.
From over my head, I reach behind my back, yanking the neckline of my hoodie until it and my shirt are peeled off.
I drop them into the waiting laundry bin and find her eyes roaming my chest like an explorer, stopping to admire every curve and dedicated dip.
I’ve never worked out to achieve this body.
I’ve worked out because it takes time and some knowledge base to make sure you’re lifting correctly, and that takes time, too.
I guess I could say I’d been exploring new things to avenge my lost childhood, yes, but I’ve always been drawn to things that distract me.
Things that eat up my time and spit me out further down the line.
If I’m left without something to learn or a letter to write, or a person to help, I have to think about myself and how the entirety of my life so far hurts my heart and that all I want is to start a new life with someone I love and move on.
Moving forward is always my goal. Only now am I starting to take it very seriously .
I run my hand through the light hair on my chest, then down my belly. Every guy my age I’ve ever seen, a hem , online, are hairless. Whether they shave or wax, I don’t know. But I’ve never wanted to do it, and honestly, I’ve never had a reason. Again, Salsa isn’t picky.
But I feel self-conscious until she blinks at me, mouth spread open wordlessly.
Finally, she swallows and hoarsely says, “you’re like the hottest guy ever, Miller.”