I said even though he hadn’t said a word, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Yes,” he said right back, not even raising his voice but somehow making me feel like it was decided now, he’d been the one to decide it, and I’d be leaving wearing a coat.
“But—” I started.
“You can put your shoes there,” he interrupted, nodding toward a shoe rack.
A shoe rack.
Dude had a shoe rack.
I toed mine off and lined them up on it, not quite sure what had just happened.
“Do you want something to drink, baby?” he asked before I could figure it out, putting a hand on my lower back and guiding me deeper into his house. “Or something to eat? I’ve got—mmph.”
I spun around and kissed him. Taking the lead wasn’t really my style, but all this other stuff was making me feel way too jittery, like he thought we were going to hang out, not just get each other off. It was… too much.
I crowded into him and wound my arms around his shoulders and figured I’d move things back toward more familiar ground by sucking his tongue into my mouth and reminding him why I’d come.
Kissing Andy, though? Guess the joke was on me, because kissing wasn't anything new—I’d legit lost count of how many other guys I’d kissed—but since none of them had ever been him, it didn’t feel like familiar ground at all.
It took him about zero point nothing seconds to get over the surprise and put his arms around me, too—one around my waist, pulling me in tight, and the other cradling the back of my head—and… just... fuck. I was hard as hell and the whole point had been to move things along, but once he took over and started kissing me back, I forgot all about wanting to rush to the main event.
No, it was like he somehow turned kissing into the main event.
“Fuck,” I whispered when he finally let me come up for air, resting my forehead on his shoulder as I tried to catch my breath.
“Language,” he said right away, rubbing slow circles over my back that made me want to melt right into him.
Him and that “language” fetish, though. I grinned, glad it was hidden against his shirt, but then got my shit together, let go of him, and backed off a little, smirking at him instead. “Or else what… Daddy?”
His eyes suddenly turned molten, and… shit. Had I thought he wasn’t hot before?
“You know what, baby,” he said, advancing on me like some kind of predator.
My cock started throbbing. Hell yeah, I knew. And I wanted it. Well, him. Anything.
Fuck, I couldn’t think.
“Good,” I croaked, reaching down to adjust myself. “So… uh, so no more stalling. I don’t need refreshments. You know what I came here for.”
He hesitated, the hot-as-fuck predator look replaced by something else—disappointment? But nah, that didn’t make sense. I’d just told him I was DTF—but then he got over it, whatever “it” was, and kept on coming. Got all up in my personal space this time… and still kept coming. Backed me right into the wall behind me and then pinned me there, his body feeling a fuck-ton better than just “average” now that it was pressed so tightly to the front of mine, flush against me from chest to thighs so that every single part of us lined up like some kind of perfectly cut jigsaw puzzle.
He brushed my hair off my forehead, running his fingers through it all the way to the back, and then gripped the back of my head again, staring into my eyes like he was trying to see right inside me or something. Then, “Okay.”
But I guess that hadn’t meant “okay, no more stalling, I’ll go grab some lube so we can get busy” like I’d thought, because Andy just dipped down and took my mouth again like he owned it. Kissed me again like it was what he’d been waiting to do all his life. Or... shit. Maybe like he was showing me what I’d been waiting for.
The noise that incessantly lived in my head faded away to, then went quiet, and for a tiny little slice of eternity nothing else existed except the feel of him holding me where he wanted me and kissing me like he owned me. Grinding against me until my cock was fully locked and loaded again. Trapping me against the wall until I was moaning like a shameless little cockslut on the verge of begging him