Chapter Nine
Aster
Icouldn’t believe I’d said it. The beer and the laughter had loosened my tongue. That and seeing Mickey’s broad bare chest, muscled arms and... what he kept in his pants.
My useless crush on him had flared into life and taken control of my brain and my mouth.
Well.
Couldn’t unsay what had been said.
Mickey’s face went from surprise to something shut off to something that looked a hell of a lot like ‘What the hell?’
I braced for rejection, trying to muster a joke, to laugh it off —
“Sure, Aster, we can cuddle.”
I couldn’t believe my luck.
This was really happening?
Not wanting to waste a moment, I shuffled closer and tucked myself under his arm.
I inhaled and came dangerously close to losing my mind.
Mickey smelled of fresh hay, sweat and woodsmoke. How did he smell like woodsmoke on a summer night when we hadn’t lit the fire? I didn’t know and I don’t care to find out.
He was heaven.
His arm was thickly muscled, and it curled around me easily, making me feel small and safe.
If I’d had a dick it would be standing at attention. As it was my testosterone-enlarged clit was throbbing.
I’d only asked to cuddle, I didn’t expect anything else, but Mickey turned half towards me and my breath caught.
His eyes were hooded, half closed, he was leaning in closer and his mouth was pursed.
Did he want to kiss?
It really looked like he wanted to kiss.
Fuck it. Carpe Diem as the brilliant Robin Williams once said.
I leaned up, closing the distance between us and kissed him on the mouth.
My body immediately heated up, like I had a full body flush. I had dreamed of kisses like this, sending sparks through me.
His lips were soft, embedded in the slight scratchiness of his beard, and he moaned softly, returning the kiss without hesitation.
Without hesitation! He did want to kiss me.
I moved, climbing more on top of him, slipping my thigh between his.
Mickey looked up at me, his hand moving to my waist.
“Aster...” It was half a moan, half a warning.
I paused, holding myself back from grinding on his thigh.
“Yeah?” My voice was breathy and a little higher than I’d have liked it to sound.
“Aster.” He kissed me harder, this time. It was as if he’d needed to confirm it was really me in bed with him. Like, who else was around?
But I lived for the way his voice growled my name. I could probably get off on him saying my name over and over.
I ran my hand over his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles, the light dusting of chest hair. He felt so warm, hot under my hand like the woodfire I’d smelled was burning under his skin.
“God, Mickey.” I nuzzled under his beard and kissed his jaw. “You smell so fucking good.”
“I do?” Mickey tilted his head up.
Was he a bottom? I was pretty flexible in bed, willing to work with my partner. The idea of him bottoming was hot as fuck, although I wouldn’t at all complain if he shoved me down on the bed and blew my back out.
His grip on my waist tightened and he pulled me closer. Then he cleared his throat. “Aster, wait.”
I froze, biting my lower lip. I really didn’t want to break the spell, but consent is something I’m very passionate about so I held still.
“Aster, maybe we shouldn’t...” He cleared his throat. “I just, I really like you as a friend and I don’t want...”
I breathed out. Yeah this was a brush off. But Goddamn, I wanted him.
“I really, really like you, Mickey,” I said. “If this is about me being trans, I get it but if it’s about the age gap or...”
Mickey’s hand moved from my waist and a finger pressed against my lips. Okay, hot.
“It’s not about you being trans. Although I’ve never been with a trans guy before I’m willing to try, it’s... a bit about you being Harlow’s best friend.”
“I know...” I pulled back and looked him in the eyes. “You think of me as a kid, right?”
“No,” Mickey shook his head. “I know you’re ad adult. I can see that you’re a man now.”
I really appreciated him saying that. I wasn’t wearing my binder. The testosterone had shrunk the amount of tissue on my chest but there was still a shape there. I had a sports bra on under my pajama shirt but it was still something. He was kind enough to ignore it.
Not all my sexual partners did.
I didn’t want to think about that right now. Mickey was worried about something. Had to focus on that.
“Thanks. So, what’s the but?”
“I don’t want to disappoint you.” Mickey’s forehead crinkled. Whatever was going on was less to do with me and more something Mickey was battling.
“Disappoint me?” I held back a laugh. The idea of Mickey disappointing me was ludicrous, but he didn’t look in a joking mood. I swallowed. “Mickey, I think you’re awesome.”
“You do?” Mickey looked like he couldn’t believe something like that. “It’s just, I have... I have issues with sex, sometimes?”
“Oh!” I smiled and cupped his cheek with one hand. “Doesn’t everyone? Listen. This doesn’t have to... to mean anything.” My heart cried out when I said those words. I wanted it to mean everything. It was going to mean something to me no matter what I did.
“It doesn’t?” Mickey sounded hopeful, maybe amenable.
“Yeah, um. I mean, obviously we don’t have to do anything at all, if you’re not feeling it, I’ll, I can...get off you. But if you are feeling it, we could touch each other? We could leave it at making out. I mean, it’s... it’s just sex, right?”
Mickey exhaled. “Is... I would like to just make out, maybe a little touching?”
I grinned. “Deal. Imagine that for tonight we’re two random strangers that met in a bar or something, and we’re gonna have some fun. That help?”
Mickey chuckled, pressing his cheek against my palm. I was still cupping his cheek, which was kind of embarrassing. “Yeah.”
For all my bravado, saying it was just sex, that it didn’t mean anything...
This was a dream come true.
But I could hide how much I wanted this. I could pretend. Like I’d said, I’d pretend I didn’t know Mickey at all, and this was a random hookup.
I tugged him in and kissed him again.
Mickey groaned, his hand going around my waist, his fingers sneaking under my shirt to knead my skin.
I moaned softly, pressing my palm to his chest and encouraging him to lay back down.
He did it readily. “Your hands feel so good,” I breathed.
Mickey pulled me more fully on top of him, his other hand slipping between my thighs to knead the muscle there.
“I’m sorry, I’ve never been with a trans guy before,” he said. “What...What would you like me to do? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”
I licked my lips. And grabbed his hand, guiding it up to cup me over my pajama pants. “Just rub, for now. I’m not, I haven’t had any surgery so I guess I have a boy clit?”
Mickey’s palm ground against me, heat shooting through me with alarming speed.
I slid my hand down to his waist, grinding myself and his hand against his hardness. He felt huge.
I wanted to go down on him in the worst way but from what he’d said, and what I was sensing, I needed to go slow.
Let him set the pace.
I dropped my gaze. So he didn’t feel watched. So my own emotions didn’t betray me.
He groaned softly, his fingers curling to tease at me, making me moan again.
“Yeah, like that.” My voice went low and husky.
Mickey made a gentle motion, pressing his fingers on me and repeating it.
“Fuck...” He panted, his pupils blown, his cheeks red.
“This is so hot, Aster.”
“Good.” I played my fingers over his chest, teasing at his nipples, seeing if he was into that. I was rewarded with his moans getting higher.
His fingers stuttered, slowing against me, the pressure easing off.
“More,” I ground down on his hand. “Don’t stop, please.”
“Bossy,” Mickey breathed. He leaned up and nipped my jaw.
His fingers pressed harder against me.
“Mm, I can be.” I gasped. He’d hit some spot that really worked. “Fuck, yes, right there, don’t stop, I’m close.”
Mickey growled, biting gently up to my earlobe. “I won’t stop. Want to hear what you sound like when you lose it.”
“Oh God...” Panting hard, I gave him what he wanted, moaning as I orgasmed, wet against his hand even through my pajama bottoms. “Fuck that’s good.”
Mickey
I’m sure I’d been aroused like this before.
Maybe when I was a teenager?
But in recent times? No.
With Pete? Definitely nowhere near as hot as this was.
Aster was so responsive, moving and moaning with everything I did. He pressed against me, making soft, needy noises that went right to my dick.
Part of me had worried that I wouldn’t know what to do with his different anatomy, but he was bossy too, showing me exactly what he liked and how. It was so easy.
Any worries vanished and I felt like the king of sex, making my partner moan and buck with the slightest effort.
Aster’s hand closed around my cock, rubbing me through the flannel of my pajamas and I groaned deep.
I was so hot, I was close already, ready to jizz in my pants like this was the first time I’d ever been touched.
In all fairness, it was the first time in many months that anyone but me had touched me, and I didn’t even masturbate that much. So, the foreign hand was intoxicatingly good.
“Aster—” I gasped. “Close, don’t stop.”
“Not gonna stop.” Aster’s lips brushed my ear, his voice low and husky. I bucked into his hand and came. Aster stroked me gently through it. “That’s it, that’s so good, you’re so good for me.”
“Aster...” I moaned, wanting to stop him speaking. The praise was doing something to me, deep inside.
Stirring something vulnerable and needy inside me.
Aster shushed me gently and kissed me, the simple action so full of yearning and affection that it both comforted and scared me.
When he pulled back, he withdrew his hand as well, I realized I’d been rubbing my fingers on him this entire time.
I cleared my throat.
Aster chuckled, his face flushed red. “You okay?”
I nodded, although I wasn’t sure if I was lying to him. “Yeah, you?”
“Yeah. That was fucking hot.” He kissed my cheek and sat up on his knees. “But I think we both need fresh pants.”
“Yeah. I think so too.”
We changed in silence. I tried not to sneak glances at him, but when I did he’d quickly look away like he’d been looking at me. I pulled on a T-shirt, feeling like I needed the safety of another layer of clothing and climbed back into bed.
Aster slid in and tried to stay on his side but I gave in to my impulses, hooked my arm around him and pulled him close for a cuddle.
Aster beamed up at me. “You cuddle?”
“I like cuddles.” Even to my ears it sounded defensive.
“That’s good. I do too.” He nuzzled against my shoulder and closed his eyes.
I flicked off the lights, inhaling the scent of his hair. I wished this was something I could have every night.
But I couldn’t.
Aster had big plans, he was too young, and I was too broken.
Sure, I’d managed to perform this evening, but that meant nothing...
The thrill of the new, and I’m sure, the forbidden aspect, were very arousing.
I could have tonight, but that was all.
I wasn’t allowed to have this.