Did I start with the “can we be boyfriends” question or did I go straight to the fact I was in love with him?
And how did I even bring the question up in the first place?
Maybe it would be best to ask after we’d fucked. I could put on my sexiest panties and stretch out my hole, then lie on his bed face down, ass up, waiting for him. I’d wanted to try that since Mr. Smith had suggested it, but I’d never managed to find quite the right opportunity. Perhaps now was the time to do it? I could melt Taylor’s brain with sex and then bring up the whole dating situation.
My cock throbbed in my boxers at the idea of waiting for him like that—open and ready for him to use me. Fuck, I wanted that so badly. A tiny groan slipped from my lips as I slipped my hand into my boxers, grasping my hardening cock tightly between my fingers. My hips bucked up, thrusting my cock deeper into my fist as I imagined Taylor’s reaction, the dirty words he’d whisper in my ear as he pulled my panties to the side and realised he could slide straight into me.
“Shit.” The word broke the silence. I imagined Taylor not even removing his jeans, just sliding them down enough to pull his cock out before teasing my hole and pushing inside me. I wondered if he’d wait for me to adjust or just take me, fucking me hard and fast until I was begging to come, crying out as he nailed my prostate over and over and filling the room with my moans.
“Taylor…”
“You know, I think you’re too sick to be doing that.” Taylor’s voice sounded from the doorway, and I yelped, practically leaping out of bed in shock. Taylor laughed softly, and I saw the outline of his body against the doorframe.
“Y-yeah?” I asked, trying to calm my racing heart. “What should I do instead? Have a heart attack from you sneaking up on me?”
Taylor chuckled as he moved across to the bed, and I felt the mattress dip as he climbed in next to me. His body was warm as he pressed up against me, dressed only in tight boxers and a t-shirt.
“I wouldn’t suggest it,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to my neck that had me moaning. “I just think I should do that instead.” His fingers snaked over my chest and across my stomach, sliding into my boxers alongside my own.
I gasped as he caressed my balls before gently pushing my hand away and wrapping his fingers around my cock.
“So, you want to play nurse?” It was meant to be a joke, but the words came out breathy and needy. I groaned, fisting my hand into the sheets as Taylor began to stroke me. I didn’t know how he managed to take me apart with something so simple as a hand job, but he managed it every time. Maybe it was because I’d been thinking about him fucking me. Or maybe it was because I knew there was every chance he was motivated by so much more than the desire to get off. That he thought I was more than just a hook-up.
Maybe there was a chance he’d never thought like that at all…
“Maybe,” Taylor said. There was a dark edge to his voice that sent shivers down my spine and had my cock pulsing in his grip. “Maybe I just want to suck your cock… maybe I’ve been thinking about it all night. Thinking about stretching my lips around you, feeling you on my tongue… having you try to hold back and be good for me while I tease you. Making you wait until I tell you to come.”
“Fuck. Please, Taylor.” I leant forward and desperately searched for a kiss. Then I hesitated. Kissing was probably not a great idea… at least if I wanted some vague form of plausible deniability if Taylor caught my bug.
“Please what, baby?” Taylor asked, leaning in close, his breath ghosting across my face. “Use your words. Tell me what you want.”
“P-please. Suck my cock. Make me come.”
“I don’t know.” Taylor ran his thumb over my slit, making me whimper. “I don’t know if you really want it.”
“Please. Please, Taylor. I need you. Please.” My voice was raspy, and I probably should have been sleeping instead of begging for an orgasm, but I was past the point of caring. I needed him to make me come. “Please suck me. Please make me come.”
“Good boy,” Taylor said, pressing more kisses to my neck. “You always ask so nicely.” He pulled his hand out of my boxers and disappeared under my duvet, sliding between my legs. I groaned as he nuzzled at my erection, mouthing it through the fabric of my underwear.
I opened my mouth to beg, but no sound came out except for a hoarse moan.
My dick throbbed under his lips. I wished he’d just take my boxers off so I could feel his mouth on me instead of through the material. But I’d forgotten how to speak, and all I could do was groan and fist the sheets impatiently.
I felt Taylor’s fingers sliding inside my boxers, pulling my cock out between the folds. He jacked it slowly, his grip loose and teasing, and when I tried to thrust up into his grip, he put his other hand on my hip, holding me still.
Fucking hell, that was hot. I was his plaything, and all I could do was take whatever pleasure he gave me. I couldn’t even see him, so I had no idea what he was going to do next. My whole body felt like it was on a knife-edge.
Then Taylor licked over the head of my cock, his tongue hot and perfect. I groaned, my lungs gasping for air. He wrapped his lips around the head, sucking gently, his tongue flicking over my slit.
