the amazing thing about it, you kind of have to relax, and I do, I just let this happen, reaching around, playing lazily with his cock while he does his work on mine. My fingers find his balls, and his velvety sack, and I just play, no goal in mind, nothing but the chance to touch him.
All the things I want to do, I let them slip away. All my thoughts.
I just let myself feel.
I thought I couldn’t do that.
I thought I didn’t feel things anymore.
But he’s so gently moving against me, so softly taking my cock between his legs, jacking me slowly, luxuriously, and now my hand has found the same rhythm going up and down his shaft, lightly, like touching him with feathers. We’re together in this.
I’m kissing the back of his neck, tasting that salt again, and I want to bite him, not to hurt him, but just to clamp down on him and keep him close to me. I even bare my teeth and lay them softly against his skin. Touch the spot that I would bite, touch it with my tongue. He shudders. He likes it. He is rock-hard in my hand.
We have to go slow. There’s no lube. I’ll hurt him if I jack him too fast, he’ll hurt me with his thighs.
It’s funny, I was standing there at the tub thinking how vulnerable he was…but now I’m the vulnerable one.
He could hurt me so easily.
I almost want it.
He could go fast, he could shove his thighs down with my cock squeezed between them, and it would practically kill me, and I don’t know why I find the thought so thrilling. It makes me jack him faster, and he writhes and groans and I can’t tell if he likes it or if it’s hurting him, but he’s not stopping me. His precum is in the water, a little cloud rising from his cock.
I want him to come so badly, that it’s driving me insane, it’s driving me to the brink without me even realizing it, I thought this would take a while because honestly, I’ve already come once today and it’s not like I’m a teenager anymore, but no, my body has no hesitation, the things he’s doing to me, the way he’s lying against me—
The way he trusts me—
I don’t know why it’s the hottest thing that has ever happened to me, my mind has no explanations, my mind is gone, all that’s left is the feeling of his boiling-hot skin next to mine, and I have to give myself up to it, I can feel it in my balls and in my belly, and when I come, I tense up and groan into his ear—
“I’m coming, baby, I’m coming, fuck, I’m coming—”
It’s a whisper and a growl, and I realize he has been waiting for this moment too, because right as the first arc of my cum jets out of me, he’s coming too, panting and moaning against me helplessly, and we’re whimpering together in this moment as though we’re both victims of something so much stronger than either one of us, and our cum mixes together in the water as we gasp and tense and climax.
I think I blacked out for a moment.
There is no other explanation for this discontinuity, where one moment I was feeling the most exciting, body-filling orgasm of my life…and the next, he’s cuddled beside me in the water, my arm around him, his hand on my belly, down near where the hair thickens above my cock, and he’s kissing my shoulder and my collarbone, content and quiet.
His cock lies against my thigh, still long and thick but quite clearly softer than it was before.
“Oh man,” I whisper.
“I know.”
“That wasn’t even— I mean, if we’d had some lube—”
“Shut up,” he whispers. “I know.”
I never did like the moments after sex, when practicalities begin filling my head. What I really want is to have a second time with him, another round, only this time not in a tub, this time with lube within easy reach, or maybe we’d just use our mouths this time, or maybe—
“How long have we been in here?” I ask.
“Long enough for the water to cool down.”
Suddenly I think of Dalton wondering where I am.
If I stay here too long, he might suspect.
Can’t have that.
“Why don’t we get out?”
Finn groans against me. “We should go to sleep. People sleep in the tub all the time, right?”
“Come on,” I tell him. “I don’t need my