“What time is it?” he asked, looking around the room. Our clothes were scattered on the floor. The tube of lotion was on the nightstand next to a glass of water.
“It’s a little past noon.”
“Really?” he yawned, finding the alarm clock on my dresser across the room. “Damn, I guess it is.” He leaned down and rested his head on my chest again. “I really like waking up this way.”
I smiled and ruffled his hair. I did too. Wesley looked up at me and grinned on one side of his mouth.
“Can we do it one more time?”
He pressed himself against my body and pouted with pleading eyes. I felt him against my thigh and I smirked, nodding as I leaned down and kissed him. I began to turn to my side, but Wesley shook his head and crawled atop me.
“No. Let’s do it this way, so I can see your face,” he said, moving his hands to my backside and pulling me closer. He parted my legs and pushed them up to my chest. He bent forward and kissed me, picking up the tube of lotion from the table. He popped open the top and squeezed some onto his fingers. “Did I use enough lube last night?”
I turned my head to the side and closed my eyes with blushing cheeks. “Don’t… don’t call it that.”
“What? Lube?” he asked. I nodded and covered my mouth with my hand. He chuckled and smirked. “All right, did I use enough stuff last night?”
“Mm-hmm.”
He was sitting back on his heels, and he pulled my backside closer. He slid his fingers around; one, then two, getting me ready. He frigged me gently with his other hand, looking in my eyes with a sweet expression. He positioned himself as I drew up to accept him and he slid inside easily. He leaned forward, pushing deeper, and kissed me. He slowly rocked back and forth, staring in my eyes, and I squeezed his hands in mine. He was steady, moving slowly, until I closed my eyes with pleasure. He pushed deeper and I moaned quietly, whispering his name. His fingers tightened around mine, and he bent his head down, his brown hair falling in his eyes.
“Wes-Wesley,” I cried, “Oh… oh God!”
Wesley scooped me in his arms, pulling me up, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. I clung to him for dear life, my legs wrapped around his middle. We came together, climaxing for what felt like an eternity, though not nearly long enough. He still held me in his arms, my head resting on his shoulder, his warm breath on my neck. We stayed like that for a while, until I kissed him. He smiled at me.
“You really are beautiful,” he said, touching my lips.
I laid my head on his shoulder and smiled in spite of myself. My face felt flushed and Wesley hugged me.
“Do you have to work today?” I asked.
Wesley sneered and nodded. “Yeah, I gotta be in at two.” He leaned in and kissed me, then climbed out of bed. I took a deep breath. His body was perfect: not too thin, not too muscular. The muscles in his arms and legs were faintly outlined and shaded by the sunlight. He had a little bit of a belly, but it wasn’t noticeable unless he was naked. He got dressed and then sat down on the bed to tie his shoes.
“Aren’t you going to walk me out?” he asked, leaning down and kissing me.
“Sure,” I answered, inching to the edge of the bed where I could reach my boxers on the floor. I was shy to stand naked before Wesley. He watched me dress without saying a word. I walked him to the front door, and he kissed me again. His smile was happy, almost childlike.
“I’ll give you a call in a little while,” he said.
I closed the door after him, and my heart started beating again. I looked around the living room and into the kitchen, amazed that everything looked the same. I couldn’t keep myself from smiling. I was really in love with him.
Chapter 14
WE HAD to present our history project in less than a week. Finals were just around the corner and the pressure was really beginning to build, but Wesley and I never seemed to get any work done. I finally had to impose a ten-minute time limit on making out so that we could actually do some homework. No matter how hard I tried to enforce the time limit, Wesley always managed to double (and even triple) the time.
“C’mon, Tor, I need more than ten minutes today,” Wesley pleaded as I took out my history folder and notebook. I shook my head and Wesley leaned into the sofa, crossing his arms and pouting. “You’re so mean.”
“We have to study,” I explained, trying to focus my attention.
Wesley slid next to me, forgetting all about his sullen mood, and kissed my neck. I trembled with his touch; I knew I would end up giving in. He pushed my notebook onto the floor and leaned forward, slipping his hand under my shirt. His lips, his fingers, his pulse—it all felt so good and I couldn’t stop myself. Being with Wesley was like having an addiction to some provocative drug; I gave in too easily. I pulled him closer and Wesley responded to my invitation, walking his fingers to the top of my blue jeans.
“Hey, it’s me. I forgot my….”
“M-Mom?”
She stood just inside the door. Her mouth hung open, and her eyes widened. I pushed Wesley away as tears welled in my eyes.
“I… I can explain. We weren’t….” Mom stared at me without saying a word. “I… I’m… I’m sorry!” I cried.
Mom shook her head in disbelief. Or in fear. Or hatred. I didn’t know which, or if it was all three. Wesley stood up, glanced at me, and then dared to look in Mom’s eyes.
“I… should probably get going,” he said awkwardly, reaching down for his book
