Chapter 16 - Henry #2
“Sorry,” I told him, offering him a reassuring smile. “I needed to make sure it wasn’t a disaster.”
“Pfft.” He rolled his eyes. “You saw my room after I got ready for a night out. Unless you have a dead body in your bed, or rotting food smeared over the floor, you’re probably ok.
” He pushed past me so he could actually step into the room, and nodded as he surveyed it.
“Yeah, see? Neat as a pin. Stop stressing.” He grabbed my hand and drew it to his lips.
“And start worrying about more fun stuff. Like what you’re going to do to me now that you have me in here. ”
That got my mind spinning. What did I want to do with Jamison?
Was ‘everything, right now’ a valid answer?
Probably not; we didn’t have that many limbs or tongues, and I really wasn’t that flexible.
Ok, so we’d have to pick. I mentally flipped through images of what I wanted to do to and with him.
Blow jobs. Another round of messy frotting.
Sixty-nine. Sixty-nine with fingers in play?
Or did I want to finger-bang him until he came all over himself and then maybe jerk off onto his already-messy stomach?
Ooh, I liked that one. Was I drooling? I thought I was drooling a little.
I wiped the side of my mouth and my hand came away damp. Oops.
Jamison, obviously picking up the direction, if not the specifics, of my thoughts, grinned and popped my index finger into his mouth, twining his tongue around it sensually.
I whimpered, imagining it was my dick being laved by that talented tongue.
After a few seconds, he slipped the finger out of his mouth and directed my hand to the hem of his shirt. “Off,” he commanded.
I could do that. I practically ripped his t-shirt off of him, saved only by the fact that the neckline was cut wide and it went over his head easily.
Then my still-damp finger was on the flat disk of his nipple, stroking, then pinching lightly, then flicking.
It was Jamison’s turn to whimper, and he clutched the back of my neck, dragging my head to his for a hot, wet kiss.
Our tongues danced together for long moments until we finally had to pull apart long enough to breathe.
The whole time, I made sure to continue to play with his nipple, digging my fingernail lightly into the protruding nub, just enough to make it sting a bit. He shuddered under my hands.
His hands scrabbled at the waist of my pajama pants for a moment before getting a good enough grip to shove them down.
They immediately fell to my knees - ok, so maybe they were just a little too stretched out, but was that really a bad thing at this moment?
I needed to get them off before I tripped, but I couldn’t stand to break contact, so I pressed my lips back to his as I leaned down to skin the pants the rest of the way off.
I even managed to get them off my ankles without breaking either the kiss or any body parts, and soon I tossed the flannel into the corner of the room and returned my hands to Jamison’s body.
With his shirt gone, I had free rein over his slim, toned upper body, and I took advantage, running my hands everywhere over his skin.
He shivered under my ministrations, slipping his tongue back into my mouth to explore, and then tugged at the hem of my t-shirt, his fingers tangling in the hole that had eaten part of the fabric. “Off,” he ordered into my mouth.
I ramped up the desperation of the kiss for a long moment, trying to store up the pleasure for the moment we separated, before I could bring myself to pull back long enough to get my shirt over my head.
And then we were kissing again. Within seconds, I was following Jamison’s mouth as his upper body moved down as he tried to get out of his jeans without breaking our new kiss.
Unfortunately, his pants weren’t as loose as mine, and they put up a fight. “Dammit,” he muttered against my lips.
For god’s sake, we needed those pants gone.
Moving almost on autopilot, I wrapped an arm around his waist, hoisted him off the floor, and tossed him onto the bed.
There, now he was off his feet and we could work together on his pants.
I fell forward onto my elbow beside him and started working at his fly.
Jamison helpfully sucked in his already-tight belly, and between us we managed to wrestle the button out of its hole.
“For fuck’s sake,” I growled as I moved on to struggling with the zipper, “did you paint these on?” I mean, don’t get me wrong, he was hot in skinny jeans, especially when he got turned on and you could really tell that, if you know what I mean.
But damn, the things were like the best abstinence enforcement method known to man if you couldn’t get them off!
He pulled his knees up and dragged his pants down, turning them inside out as they peeled off his legs.
Finally, they cleared his ankles, catching there for a few seconds that caused me to growl again and consider just ripping them the rest of the way off before they gave way and landed on the floor.
“Finally!” he said, heaving a sigh as if he could finally breathe.
“Note to self: do not wear skinny jeans to visit Hen. Ever.”
“Sweats,” I informed him, stretching out beside him and letting my hand dance over his hairless chest. “Stretchy, elastic-waist sweats. So much easier.”
“Mmm, easy access,” he agreed. “I can see the appeal.” His hand drifted down my front to my dick, cupping and weighing it. “I like access,” he breathed into my mouth as we started another round of kisses.
I couldn’t stop myself from humping up into his palm, whining quietly into his mouth.
I was hard as rock and almost felt like I could go off if he so much as breathed near my cock, let alone touched it.
Finally, I had to pull my hips back from his questing hand.
“This is all going to be over before we get started if you don’t give me a break,” I said through continued kisses.
“Mmm, no.” He ran the tip of his tongue over the edge of my front teeth. “I’ve got plans for you that go beyond frotting this time.”
I lifted the hand I wasn’t using to hold myself up and lowered it to cup his ass, kneading the soft flesh and occasionally dipping my fingers into his crease. “Plans, you say?”
He mewled and arched into my grip. “Plans,” he confirmed breathlessly. “Big ones. Big…plans. Big.”
Wedging my elbow under my side, I freed my other hand and added it to the game, now cupping both sides of Jamison’s pert ass and shoving his briefs down as I did it.
“Do tell me about these big…big…plans.” I kissed the edge of his mouth and eased the elastic waist of his briefs over his hard-on, deliberately only brushing it with the edge of my hand to tease him.
His hips bucked at the touch, momentarily pressing his hardness alongside mine, and we both gasped a breath. “Big,” he gasped out, though I wasn’t sure he was actually still following the thread of the conversation so much as commenting on what he felt.
“Huge,” I agreed, playing along and humping my hips into him for a second before drawing back. “So? What are these plans?”
Jamison blinked blankly up at me, his pupils wide and black and his lips wet and pouty. “What?”
Heh. He and reality had completely parted ways. I smothered a self-satisfied smirk. “You said you had plans for me,” I reminded him, toying with his nipple again. “Big ones, that went beyond frotting?”
At the word frotting, his hips jerked as if trying to match deed to word, but I pulled mine back teasingly. “Ah, ah, ah,” I reprimanded. “Tell me your plans.”
He lay there, staring up at me, for a long, wordless moment, hips making little aborted thrusts into the air.
“Plans,” he repeated vaguely, and then finally seemed to catch up with what was going on.
His eyes sharpened on me and he bit his lip.
“Yes, plans.” He eyed me seductively. “I want that big cock.”
I looked down at the tent in my boxer-briefs, which we’d still not managed to remove. “It’s right here, baby. Ready for whatever you want.”
He gave me a toothy, hungry smile. “Lube?”
Apparently we were getting right to it. I could get behind that. I gestured to the nightstand that sat on his side of the bed. “Top drawer. Condoms are in there too.”
His smile turned feral as he rolled onto his stomach to reach into the drawer. Hmm, that ass. He rummaged in it for a long moment before coming up with a handful of condoms in one hand and a medium-sized bottle of lube in the other. He rolled back to me and dumped his bounty on the bed between us.
I eyed the - one, two…six - condoms he’d dropped and then looked up at him. “Planning a long night?”
He just grinned unrepentantly. “The longest you’ll ever have.”
That, combined with the look on his face, gave me a shiver. He was welcome to use and abuse me as much as he wanted, because damn, this was hot. “Who’s fucking who?” I asked, fingering one of the wrapped condoms and picking up the lube.
He cocked his head to the side, considering that. “You aren’t an exclusive top?”
“Nope.” I shook my head. “It’s probably, like, 75% my preference, but I’ll bottom happily for the right guy.
Just gotta be able to, you know, trust them not to hurt me.
” Because I’d made a bad pick for my top once or twice, and yeouch, never again.
Some guys, even if they tried hard, just didn’t have the body control necessary.
But I was pretty sure that Jamison had the finesse necessary to make it a good - a great - experience. So him fucking me? Sure, yes, please.
He appeared to think about that for a long few seconds, then nodded. “In that case, I want in that hot body first. We can negotiate for the rounds after that.”