“Umm, well… you don’t have to….” Weird. It was almost like there was a touch of… like, fear in his voice.
“Nah, it’s cool, happy to do it.” I started reaching across him, even before he answered. “It will just take a second.” I grabbed his shoulders and turned him around, so he was standing facing the other way. I reached out and ran my hand across his bare shoulder. “Let me know if anything hurts.”
My hand started working his exposed muscles over. It was… strange. Despite my comments, I really only did this for my wife after she had a bad day. Strange that I had very conspicuously left her out of my explanation. Right from the start, it hit me how… different he felt from her. She was soft, gentle. Pliable. Jeremy was… hard. Not… stiff… so much as his muscles were taut. Strong. Coiled power. And slightly slick with sweat. My wife never sweat. No… men sweat. Sweat was part of our lives. Expected. We sweat together. We did things. Our bodies did things. Men….
Jeremy gave a light grunt, snapping me back. “You okay, bud?” I asked?
There was a… flutter… in his voice. “Yeah, man… it feels good. You’ve got… um, good hands….” I smiled, loving the physicality of it all. Rubbing. Feeling him. Feeling. Losing myself in the moment. Proud that I could….
Wait. I realized I was getting an… unexpected feeling. In my gut. And that was triggering a hint of an alarm somewhere in the back of my mind. But that’s crazy. I was just… helping a bud with his sore muscles. I mean, what was the deal? But at the same time, the thought of… well, you know, the feel of his skin rubbing against mine was… making me… feel connected to him. Close to him. Comfortable. But… uncomfortable….
Uncomfortable? What the fuck?
Why was I getting jittery? Why the butterflies? I mean, it was just…. Wait. Butterflies? But, why would I….
I quickened the pace, trying to be more active than sensual. More… businesslike. I worked both sides of his neck with my hands, probing for knots. Seeking release. Hoping to…
I realized I had unconsciously leaned my head in, my nose nearly touching the nape of his sweaty neck. Close. So very close. I could… breathe him in. Smell… his dusky scent. Uhnnn. It was the smell of… a guy, a man, tinged with fresh sweat. A scent I knew from years of hanging out with the guys. A scent I… fuck. It was… raw. Smelling of power. Strength. Manhood.
Smelling of Jeremy.
I breathed in, deeply. His scent filled me, like whirls of smoke filling a room. It was…. My pulse was…. Fuck.
I realized I had stopped my massage. Shit. How long had I…? Fucking shit… did he hear me, feel me… you know, smell him? Oh fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.
I decided to bluster my way out of this. I theatrically pulled my hands away, and chirped out, “There we go! Better?”
Jeremy reached up and lazily rubbed his shoulder, and started turning around. “Yeah. You know, I think so. You did good, man!” His voice had an… unfamiliar timbre to it.
There was a pause between us. And panic started rising inside me. Shit, what had I just done? Had I freaked him out? Why the hell did I do that? I couldn’t even look at him.
But then to my utter astonishment, Jeremy looked at me, with an… unreadable look. He gave me a half-smile, and said, “Yeah, that feels great. Mind if I return the favor? I’ll show you what I learned.”
I had no response. Part of me thrilled to feel his hands on me, part of me starting to freak out about how this whole situation was… well, wrong.
But… Jeremy… didn’t seem to think… it was wrong…
I guess he took my lack of an answer as a cue to get started. He pushed me down so I was sitting on the edge of his bed, then clambered behind me. Sitting so I was between his legs. Shit. Was that… strange…? Sitting between a guy’s legs like that? His hands mimicked mine, and slid into position on my bare skin.
And started kneading my shoulders.
Unnnnnnnnnnnghmmmmmmm.
Damn… it felt good. Good. Whatever paltry reason I had for objecting evaporated into thin air. His hands were… strong. Digging in deep.
Releasing….
Fuck, it was like I was fucking melting or something. Instinctively, I released a held breath with a low rumble, which suggested that whatever my misgivings, I was liking this quite a bit. It still made me uncomfortable, but I didn’t fight it. I didn’t… want to fight it.
Jeremy was working both shoulders with his hands. Strong hands. Strong, like him. It felt… good. Relaxing, but in a way that was…. Shit. If I didn’t know better, I’d say exciting. But that couldn’t be it, right? I mean Jeremy was….
His hands dug deep again, and I let out a louder sound. Totally unplanned. Totally feeling….
His hands were kneading me harder now. Rolling. Probing deep. Meeting my shoulder muscles with his muscled hands. It felt… fucking good. There was just the slightest slickness to my skin, traces of nearly dry work-sweat, and the beginnings of excitement-sweat. His hands were hot. Rough. Fucking strong.
Purposeful.
It was… disorienting. I mean, my wife touched me teasingly. But this was different. A man’s touch. Jeremy’s touch meant business. Wanting something.
I realized I had started ever-so-slightly leaning back, leaning into him. Oh shit. I froze. I mean, was that… cool? Okay? Would he think I was weird or something? I mean, I couldn’t… I shouldn’t….
Then I realized something. He had rested his forehead in the crook of my neck, as his hands slid across the bare flesh of my back. I could feel his breath ripple across my sweat-sheened skin, right behind my ear. I swear… I could almost feel the scruff of his beard….
I shivered. It was….
Shit.
It felt good. It felt fucking… good… fucking… goooood.
His hands slid back up. I drew sharp intake of air… I swear I didn’t gasp. I swear I didn’t….
Jeremy was back to rubbing my shoulders, but… more. His right hand was really digging into me, forcing me forward, so he snaked his left around my chest to brace me. Fuck. Then his right hand was rubbing up my shoulder, almost down toward my chest. Back and forth. Back and forth… fingertips slowly tickling up over and past my collarbone. Deeper. Digging deeper. I leaned back, my right hand brushing against him. Against his thigh. I didn’t move it. Shit. Shitshitshit. I was both ashamed of my action and desperately wanting him to keep going. To wake up my skin. To wake up my….
Shit. Holy shit. He was all but rubbing my hairy pecs now, both hands at once. His fingers pushing through, lightly tangled in my short, curly chest hair. I rumbled a sound that could not be mistaken for anything but masculine enjoyment.
Shit. Shit. What was I doing? I should….
His breath against my neck. Breathing through his mouth. Hotly. Against my skin. His hand… oh fuck his hand… his fingertips lightly running the length of my breastbone… and further down. Oh God. OH GAWD.
Oh… shit….
It struck me as… fucking… intimate. No man had ever touched me like that. I felt open. Close to him. Not just physically, but… fuck… emotionally. I was reacting. My body… reacting. On its own. My heart was pounding. He had to be hearing it. I was making sounds with my breathing that…