Stray Fears - Gregory Ashe Page 0,73

slid my hands down to the vee of his legs. I ran my thumbs on the insides of his thighs. I kissed his knee. He was shaking. He was wet.

“Please,” he whispered.

“What if we flip?”

“What?”

“Is it better for you that way?”

Those hazel eyes were blank.

My hands stilled. “No one’s ever asked you that?”

He gave a tiny shake of his head, and then he squeezed his eyes shut, and tears leaked out the corners. I thumbed them away, kissed him, and took him in my mouth. He was soft at first, but after a few minutes he responded, a murmur building in his throat until he seized my head with his hands, fingers scraping over the short stubble of my hair.

When I pulled off, he was gasping. I dropped next to him, elbowed him in the ribs, and said, “Time for you to do some work.”

Shock transmuted into a grin, and he took his place. He was slow. He was unsure. He kept asking, and he was gentle, and neither of us lasted long. I came first, untouched, biting my arm.

“Holy God,” Elien said in a strangled whisper, and then he groaned and bucked wildly into me as he came.

For a while we lay together, our breathing syncopated, and I ran a sticky hand down his spine.

“Never,” he said. And then he giggled. “Never in my entire life.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, “but I feel like I should be insulted.”

He propped his chin on my chest and stared at me. “I’ve never had anything like that in my entire life. Ever. You are amazing.”

“You are amazing,” I said with a grin. “I just kind of hung around and enjoyed the performance.”

He giggled into my side for a long time after that.

Then we had to clean up, and we were like kids sneaking down the hallway past my parents’ bedroom, both of us trying not to laugh and both of us being too loud. Then he wanted more bread pudding, and we ate it in bed, sharing a spoon. And at some point, we fell asleep, and I completely forgot about the couch.

ELIEN (3)

When I woke up, it took me a moment to remember: the whale books, the poster of the 2008 Braxton Bragg Memorial High School basketball team, the rippling blue waves of the LED light on the wall. Dag’s arm was across my chest, and when I inched toward the edge of the mattress, he flexed, drawing me against him.

“Morning,” I whispered.

He kissed my neck.

“I’ve got to pee.”

With a groan, he released me, and I sprinted to the bathroom. When I got back, Dag immediately latched onto me and dragged me into the curve of his body.

“Your mom and dad saw me in my underwear,” I whispered.

He kissed my neck again.

“They were smiling so hard I thought they were going to have matching strokes.”

Dag’s hand skated over my chest, and his fingers slid under the elastic of my underwear.

“Really?” I said.

He kissed lower, where my neck joined my shoulder. His stubble rasped against the sensitive skin there, and goose bumps pebbled my chest. His fingers moved in slow, steady strokes.

“Again?” I said.

“Too early for talking,” he mumbled.

It might have been too early for talking, but it wasn’t too early for other stuff. Dag rolled me onto my back and rode me like a champ, both of us struggling to be quiet, the creak of the springs getting faster and faster. This was another first for me, and it was as overwhelming as last night: somehow, Dag seemed even more vulnerable like this, his knees spread as he rocked up and down, his head thrown back. He wasn’t touching himself again, and I wondered if that was on purpose. I reached between his legs.

“Oh shit,” he gasped, his eyes shooting open. “Not yet.”

So I let him go, and after a moment, he guided my hands to his hips, and he let me direct him, setting the pace, his body doing all the work and me totally in control. His teeth made white crescents where he bit into his lip. In spite of his best efforts, low moans escaped him.

“Dag,” I whispered.

He shook his head once, violently, like a dog.

“Dag, I’m close.”

“Give me something,” he whispered, his eyes wide and blind. “Shit, give me a pillow or something.”

I handed him a pillow, and he bit savagely into it, and I figured that was my cue. I grabbed his dick; after two quick pulls, he was shooting all over