Day 18 Burlington, VT （Day Off） #3
Then we’re kissing again, as if we have all the time in the world, as if we’re at home, as if we belong together.
And the more we kiss, the more I want to, my fingers brushing Sam’s cheeks, gently caressing his throat, feeling the vibration of his little hums of pleasure, raking down his sides.
I’m rock hard, pressing uncomfortably against my zipper, and I have the vague thought that I should take my jeans off, that there’s more here to explore.
But I just can’t stop kissing him, soft and deep and intentional, completely wrapped in his mouth, the dart of his tongue, the strength in his thin arms, trying to show him everything I know it’s too soon to say.
Sam tilts his head to the side, and I take the hint, trailing my lips down his neck as his fingers sink into my hair. He snakes his free hand between us, laying his palm across the front of my jeans.
“Do you want to get more comfortable?” he murmurs.
“Oh yeah, I should do that —”
I roll away from him, shimmying out of my jeans and pulling off my socks and letting them fall to the floor. But when I get to my boxers, I hesitate.
Sam’s eyes are round as he watches me. “What’s the matter?”
“I dunno, I just realized —” I’m suddenly feeling a little shy, and I know I’m blushing, my face turning hot. “You know — we’ve done all this stuff this week but we haven’t actually gotten completely naked.”
“Do you — not want to?” Sam asks, his voice a little small.
“No! I mean, yes — I’m just being stupid —” I let all my breath out in a rush. “Come on, let's just do it together. One — two — three!”
We strip off our underwear at the same time and collapse onto the bed, reaching for each other.
This time, when my body touches Sam’s, my eyes nearly roll back in my head.
He’s never been completely bare underneath me like this before, and I feel like I’m out of control, just one breath away from shattering into a thousand pieces.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, it’s just —” I cling to his shoulders as he squeezes my waist with his knees. “You feel so fucking good —”
“Shhhh —” he whispers, winding his arms around my back. “Dude, you’re shaking.”
“Sorry —” I press my lips just beneath his ear, my eyes shut tight. I want to blurt it all out so badly, but I manage to hang on. “I just — I don’t know what to do next —”
Sam grabs my face with both hands, maneuvering me so that he can study my face. “Are you sure you still want to do this?”
“More than anything —” I insist. “But I want to it be good for you — want you to feel good —”
“Oh, Max —”
Sam surges up to kiss me, and it’s purposeful, like he knows what he wants and exactly how to get it.
He pushes himself up off the bed, and before I know it, I’m on my back, my head among the pillows.
He straddles my hips, spreading naked across my lap, my cock nestled in the cleft of his ass, one hand pressed to my heart.
“Is this okay?” he whispers. “I mean, maybe I could ride you? If you’re ready —”
“Sammy —” My mouth is dry, but I lick my lips carefully, cupping his face to draw him into a tender kiss. “Anywhere you want to go, that’s where I’ll be.”
SAM
Oh fuck, Max is inside me.
I could see that he was a mess of nerves, that he was starting to come unglued from the moment he walked in the door.
And it’s not like I’m relaxed and well-adjusted, because I’m putting everything on the line tonight.
But somehow, seeing the cracks in Max’s armor, knowing he needed me, was enough to help me put my own jitters aside.
Offering my body is one thing I know how to do.
And Max? Max looks at me like I’m a sex god, like he’s never seen anything more beautiful than me.
He looked at me that way while I was getting us both ready, skating his hands down my bare thighs as I rolled a condom onto his cock, while I slid a slick hand up and down his shaft, while I dipped my fingers between my legs to prepare myself.
And when I pushed him inside me, rolling my hips to take him inch by inch, completely enveloping him, he wrapped both hands around my waist and told me I was perfect.
And now my hands are splayed across his chest, supporting me as I move, taking him deep.
I’m setting a gentle pace, savoring this, drawing it out — because I can’t believe this is happening, that Max is beneath and inside me.
My eyes are open, watching the tiny expressions flitting across his face, because I want to be here in this moment.
Because I’m worried that if I shut my eyes too tight, I’ll realize that this whole week has been nothing but a dream.
Max keeps tugging at my arm, dragging me down so that he can kiss me, and the third time he does it I chuckle, nuzzling his cheek.
“I can’t get us off if you keep doing this,” I tease, kissing his temple. “The angle’s all wrong and I can’t move —”
Max pouts. “But you’re so far away —”
What else can I do but kiss him as much as he wants?
I fold over onto his chest, sinking into his arms, my tongue slipping into his mouth, and I can feel him taking over, hips undulating beneath me, bracing his feet on the bed as he drives into me.
When he splays his hands across my back, one supporting my hips and the other between my shoulder blades, I know what he’s going to do before he does it.
So I’m not surprised when he flips me onto my back, pressing me into the mattress, never breaking the connection between us.
“Better?” he whispers, and I nod, winding my arms around his neck.
And it is — better, in every way I can possibly say.
I’ve longed for this, dreamed about it, but the reality of it blows every one of my fantasies out of the water.
Max is mantled over my body, elbows pressed into the mattress on either side of me, hitting that bundle of nerves with every thrust as deliberately as if we’d done this a thousand times before.
And it’s all I can do to keep it together, to keep from blurting out every emotion that I’ve kept bottled up inside me all these lonely years.
This isn’t my first time, not by a long shot. But since Max is the only guy I’ve ever loved, it’s never been like this before. And I’m not sure how people stand it, because I’m ready to break apart, to lose myself in this bed with Max.
I grope beside us for the lube, and when I reach between our bodies to wrap a slick hand around my cock, Max slows, looking down between us.
“Is that something — should I be —” he pants.
“No, it’s okay —” I murmur back. “Just kiss me —”
Here he is, giving me the best sex of my life, and still Max is searching for more ways to look out for my needs, to make it even better, to take care of me.
It’s the way he’s always been, ever since we were boys, and something about seeing that side of him now rips my heart into shreds.
He’s kissing me, shuddering against my lips, and I can feel that my cheeks are wet, that I can’t hold any of it back.
So I wrap my free arm around his neck and I bury my face in his shoulder and I concentrate on the hot ball of need building deep inside me.
We’re both nearly there, chasing our peak. Max’s breath is in my ear, hot and ragged as he picks up speed, the room filling with the slap of skin against skin. And I’m trying to be quiet, moving my hand in time with him, but I can’t hold back the hushed whimpers that come with each thrust.
“Sammy — Sammy, I’m close —” he gasps.
“Together —” I manage to reply.
And we’re both shaking apart, shuddering through the aftershocks, Max’s thrusts slowing as I spill over my belly.
I’m covering my face with my hand, because I don’t want him to see that I’m falling apart.
But he grabs my wrist, gently tugging my hand away, and when my eyes meet his, I can see that his are red-rimmed too, that he’s just as affected as I am.
And we both start to laugh, desperate giggles as we press our lips together.
“God, look at us, a couple of crybabies,” Max quips, reaching for the box of tissues on the bedside table. “Here, let me clean you up —”
He swipes a tissue over the mess on my chest, then gets up to toss the condom out, and I’m grateful, because it gives me a chance to breathe, to pull myself together.
When he returns, we turn down the covers and slip underneath them, both of us still naked as Max pulls me into his arms, kissing the top of my head.
“Remember that time when we went to see My Girl?” Max asks, and I know why it’s on his mind.
“That fucking movie. We thought that if the Home Alone kid was in it, it had to be a comedy.”
“He can’t see without his glasses!” Max wails, then reaches for my face, tipping my chin up. “I was crying so hard, and I thought you were going to make fun of me, but then I looked over and you were crying too.”
I close my fingers around his, kissing his knuckles. “And you reached out and held my hand.”
Max looks at me steadily, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Finally, he smiles, caressing my face.
“We should have done this years ago,” he murmurs.
And as he rolls me onto my back to kiss me, I know that I’m not going to argue with that.