Tag-along

I clasped his head in my hands and guided him back onto me, rocking slow and shallow.

“Soft mouth now, yeah? Wet and loose…make yourself all soft for me…just hold on gentle with those pillowy lips and let me do the work…”

From the way he melted, sagging into my encircling hands and going with the flow I was establishing, he clearly liked the chat – so I kept it up, coaxing, encouraging and praising until my voice started to crack.

“Soon, soon…you’re gonna get it soon…aggh, here it comes, baby…”

I felt him tense up between my palms and suddenly remembered he was ‘kinda new at this’ – but it wasn’t fear, it was expectation, eagerness – that wild want from earlier, raging to the surface…

“How are your knees?” I asked, as he drew back from me and I released his face.

He laughed awkwardly, eyes downcast, a little shy now – hopefully not regretful. “Uhh, sore…”

“Hop up here,” I told him, patting the couch beside me. “Let me have a look.”

I got him arranged along the cushions, feet in my lap, and twisted to rub and massage the red pressure marks, allowing one of my hands to drift teasingly up into his shorts while the other did the work, swapping between them, mixing it up, edging ever closer to his groin without ever arriving…

“Yeah, my knees are fine now, Jeremy,” he drawled after a few minutes. “You can move on, y’know…”

“I’ll get there eventually,” I murmured, giving him my best shit-eating grin.

“Take the direct route,” he growled, with that jutting chin I’d initially seen when he said, ‘I asked first’. My heart swelled. God, you’re perfect. Perfect. A total puppy…who bites now and then…

It was a culmination, a could-die-happy moment, just to have him in my mouth. To be in close, washed in the scent and taste of him…it needed nothing more, but as I suckled and swooped he rewarded me with a near-continuous seepage of sweet-salty slickness that – I’m not sure I believe in this kind of thing, but it felt like I got high on it – and higher and higher and higher, knowing I was taking him with me…

There were no hands on my body caressing or cramming, no urgent filthy whispers, no moans to goad me on…he was still the staunch silent soldier that straight guys learn to be, even the quiver deserted him now – but he was here, with me, and ever-more-helplessly leaking to the tune I was playing…

I laid my cheek on his hip after drinking him down, drowsy with feel-good chemicals, blinking intermittently at his slow-deflating cock, and Quinn finally unhooked a hand from behind his neck, reached out and made contact, jogging my head gently side to side.

“Damn. You really meant that, didn’t you?”

“Yup. But if you feel like clarification is needed, I’d be happy to supply it any time. Like, any time at all…”

He laughed, a delicious chesty rumble, as he reached down to pull his shorts up. “I’ll let you know.”

I thought that was a wrap – non-committal answer, clothes back on, time for awkward shuffling exit and then…who knows – but he dragged my head back down where it’d been and left his hand resting on it, comfortingly weighty…

“So-oo,” I sighed, “you wanna explain kinda-new-but-not-brand new to me?”

He lifted his head a little and smiled crookedly in my direction. “Uhh…well, I guess you already know I’m a teeny bit dumb, so this might almost be believable…”

“You are not!” I protested, sitting up again. “You’re a guy with a disability who came up with inventive and effective workarounds for that disability without any outside help! That’s the exact opposite of ‘dumb’, and I am not just saying that to make you feel good about yourself.”

The smile was a smirk this time. “That’s a relief, ‘cos I don’t see how you’d top the way you made me feel good about myself five minutes ago. But seriously, I must be a little bit…yeah, slow, given how long it took me to realise…”

There was a pause while he tapped his lips with his knuckles, arranging his thoughts.

“You have to understand,” he said as he began again, “that not a lot of people hang around the kind of place where I was born once they’re done with school. Not a whole lot of people hang around in Taupō even. It’s more, people come there or come back there when they’re old and have the money for lake views. And especially – especially – girls don’t hang around. And why would they? There’s far more jobs for guys, or at least more jobs that you’d typically associate with guys.”

“So what you have,” he continued, “is you have this…wider environment that’s really male-heavy, and so there’s…ah…a lot of competition, maybe? Or not even that. A lot of lack of opportunities…and I lived and worked in this environment of lack until I was twenty one years old, surrounded by dudes who were constantly bitching about how long it’d been since they got laid, and the whole thing was just never a giant problem for me.”

He half-sat and swivelled around so his head was down my end of the sofa, resting in my lap. Looking up, he murmured;

“To be clear, I did get laid occasionally, and I…y’know, it was…great. But I didn’t, like, obsessively think about it all the time in the way the guys around me seemed to, like it was an itch they just couldn’t get scratched, and I…I guess I concluded I had, like, a lower sex drive than them. But, hey – whatever. As I said, it wasn’t bothering me.”

My thoughts flicked to his hands scrabbling at my shirt as he tried to get it free. There was nothing ‘whatever’ about the hurricane of passion I felt and saw there…I reached down and traced his eyebrows, booped his nose.

“So…who was it?” I whispered. “Who turned you all the way out, gorgeous?”

He pinked up a little – just a tiny bit, high up on his cheeks. “I, uh, went on a holiday,” he mumbled. “Not to have sex, okay! Just…to do something different. Nobody in my family ever went anywhere except maybe over to Hawkes Bay for some camping in summer. I had money saved – still living at home – and I just…got this idea to go to Japan. I booked on one of those super-organised trips where the accommodation and the activities and the food are all chosen for you and they just haul the group around the place in a minibus and throw experiences at you all day long, and I, uh, shared a room…hey, stop it! Stop laughing, bitch!”

“I’m not laughing,” I told him. Which was true. Smirking? Yeah, I was smirking…

He glared up at me, but it didn’t have much of an effect, because he was insanely beautiful even when he was trying to be fierce…but I tucked the smirk away. He’s telling you about the first time, Jeremy. That’s serious stuff…

“Don’t stop now,” I urged. “You’re just getting to the good bit…”

Quinn nodded. “Yeah. Anyway, I shared a room with this guy. Hayden. He was from Adelaide. Same sorta age as me, good bloke. Also a first-timer in Japan. We hung out quite a bit over the course of the week because most of the other folk were like, older, paired up, etc.”

I watched the solid lump of his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed once, twice, before saying; “So, the fifth night, we were…had the lights out, and just talking, y’know? – and then Hayden’s like, ‘hey, can I ask you something?’ and I told him sure, and he says, ‘would you be up for a bit of fooling around?’, and I went to say, dude, no! but then I had this thought…like, literally why not? Nobody’s gonna find out, and I’m already here doing stuff outside my comfort zone, so…

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