Page 54 of This I Promise You
So I do it again.
And again.
And again.
“Fuck.” He drags out the word in a whisper. I bite his neck, his collarbone. He grabs the hem of my shirt and helps it off of me. The cold stings my skin, but his palms bring the warmth back. He sits up and I do the same for him. His hands immediately go to my abs, but all I can do is look at him. He’s not muscular, but he’s lean, on the skinny side. No chest, but he has a tight stomach and the mostperfectv-cut I’ve ever seen. I waste no time showing him just how I feel about his body with my tongue and teeth.
His torso is pink in splotches as I make my way back up to his mouth. His hands map out my shoulders and back with gentle fingers and rough fingernails. He moves his way down to grab my ass and push me into him.
“Don’t! Please,” I yelp, startling him.
“What? What is it? What did I do?”
“Just— Don’t touch my ass.” No. Fuck, fuck, fuck. We were doing so well. I should have said something. I should havesaid something.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry. I won’t.” He’s worried and nervous, but I don’t want to keep talking about it, so I kiss him again and get to work on taking off his pants. Fuck it all, I’m getting him naked.
His skinny jeans might as well have been painted on, but I manage to peel them off and toss them aside. Holy shit, his dick looks amazing. I think it’s…bigger than mine? That’s interesting, but I have heard that the smaller, skinner guys can have the biggest dicks. Lucky me.
I bend down and take him into my mouth. My chest tightness internally and I’m starting to feel like this is too much. My thoughts are running rampant and I’m having a hard time calming myself down. Easton’s enjoying what I’m doing, but he has no idea what's going on inside my head. Thank fuck for that. So I suck and suck until he grabs my jaw. “Wait, wait. You’re going to make me come.”
“Sorry. Grab the condoms and lube. They’re behind that pillow.”
He makes quick work of it, hands me a condom, and gets to work with the lube. And dammit, I don’t think I want to do this anymore. But he’s just lying there on his side, naked and swollen and pink in the moonlight while the fresh air causes goosebumps to eclipse his skin. He’s sexy and this is exactly how I’ve pictured him during my jerk-off sessions, I just don’t know if I can do this.
But I’m inthisdeep, so I might as well finish quickly before I have a completely heinous meltdown in front of him. I don’t want him to think he’s done anything wrong, I don’t want him to think he doesn’t turn me on and that I don’t like him. I just asked him to be my boyfriend. I don’t want to mess this up.
So I do the only thing I can at this moment. I pull my pants down to my thighs and put on the condom. He’s done lubing up and grabs my dick with his lubed hand so that I match.
Oh fuck.
I take a thick throw pillow, lift his lower half up and place the pillow under him. He wipes off his hands and lies back down comfortably.
I move to finger him to get him ready for me. I learned this trick with my ex where while you're fingering someone, if you press your finger to the side of their opening and hold, they’ll open up the quickest. Like you're tricking that muscle to ease up. So I do that and I can feel that he's ready.
I remove my finger with a pop and he moans. His head is back and it’s a good thing his eyes are closed because I’m on the verge of freaking out.I’m in control.I think. I can do this, I just don’t want him to see my face right now. I hope he keeps his eyes closed.
I place my tip at his edge and thrust forward slowly.
“Tell me if you need me to stop or slow.”
“You’re good. Keep goi—Fuck, Paul,” he drags out in a moan. I’m halfway in without any trouble. “Just go,” he whispers. So I do.
This should feel good, right? I should be enjoying this, right? He is. I can tell he is, but I can’t shake the feeling of what happened the last time I—
No! No, Paul.I just need to hurry up and finish. But I can already feel myself going soft and I’m thrusting into him and I can tell I’m doing too much, being too aggressive. I can’t stop it. I can’t. My mind is going back tohimand whathedid to me and my body is reacting. I’m on autopilot as my body moves the wayhemoved. Holy shit what am I doing? Am I hurting him? Is there blood? What am I doing to Easton?! No. No no no.
“STOP! Stop, stop, stop. I can’t. Just stop.” I pull out of him and move as far away as I can.
“What? Paul? What…happened?” He’s disoriented as he quickly comes down from his euphoric high.
“Get dressed. Get fucking dressed.” I pick up his pants and throw them at his chest. But he doesn’t move, he’s just staring at me like he… Is he about to cry?
Fury courses through my veins. At him, at myself, at the situation, I don’t know. I just can’t deal with him crying right now. “Don’t cry. Justget dressed!” I button up my pants and hop out of the truck.
“Paul. What's going on? What the hell happened?” He’s pleading, asking over and over again,butI can’t answer him. I can’t tell him. It’s too humiliating, I can’t say it aloud. He’ll look at me differently. I just need him to go.
I’m frantic and I can’t breathe. I’m taking everything out of the truck bed as quickly as I can and throwing it into the back seat. He’s dressed and trying to get me to stop, to talk to him. He keeps grabbing my arm or standing in front of me, but I shove him off or move around him. My face is wet, but I can’t understand why. And he’s crying, I think? But I’m not sure because all I can picture is being trapped in the shower, wet and…bleeding.
