Page 86 of Goalie Interference

I fall backwards, laughing and pulling him down with me.

As he falls, he braces himself with both hands on either side of me. The smile on his face says it all. “I think maybe it’s time for us to stop over-analyzing all of this and⁠—”

“Enjoy for what it is.” I reach up and caress his face again. His cheeks are smooth. He must have shaved before he came over. I pull him down to me. “Come here.”

Without any hesitation he lays himself down on top of me willingly and brings our lips back together. One hand slips behind my neck and cradles my head while his other slides down to my hip and holds me still. His cock is hard and pressing against my hip, making me ache with how much I need him right now.

I’ve never needed anyone. Not until him. I may have always wished for more, but I always assumed that wasn’t meant for me. I’ve grown content in the idea of being enough for myself. Well, not anymore. Now it’s my time to take what I want. And I’m claiming him.

With all my strength, I flip us and roll him onto his back. He settles under me, opening his legs so I can slot myself between them. He keeps one hand on my neck, keeping our kiss from breaking, and his other has slid to my ass. His large fingers dig into the muscles.

In this position our erections more easily slot beside each other. But still with our clothes on, it’s not enough. I need us to be naked. It’s been too long since I’ve felt his skin.

Reaching between us, I slip my hand under the fabric of his shirt. What a relief it is that he’s wearing a sweatshirt like me, making it easy for me to glide my palm up the planes of his abdomen. His body is warm under my touch and his skin is smooth. But I want more. So much more.

I pause our kiss. “Do you want to⁠—”

“Fuck, yes, I want to!”

Laughing, I rest my head at the base of his neck and nuzzle his throat. “You do not know what I was going to ask.”

“As long as it ends with both of us coming, it doesn’t matter.” He scoots himself back out from under me and pulls his sweatshirt off then begins to loosen the drawstring on his pants. “Come on, man. I’m desperate. Get your clothes off.”

It would be ridiculous of me not to do as I’m told. Rising from the bed, I keep my eyes on him as I strip. I don’t want to miss one second of being able to look at him like this. Naked and eager. Body flushed. Eyes bright.

Once naked, I give my cock a few slow strokes. I’m so worked up by him. This is the only thing that can settle me down. If he was to touch me right now, I’d probably blow. And that is the last thing I want to have happen.

On the bed he’s lounging on his back, propped up on his elbows and staring back at me. At my dick if I’m being specific.

I give it another slow tug. “See something you want?”

“Yes…” he says with a shaky exhale. His tongue licks his lips.

Heat runs through me. “How do you want it?”

A flicker of fear runs through his eyes, but quickly it’s replaced by something else. Something deeper and more intense. Desire, crystal clear in his deep blue eyes. “Would you… Do you…”

“Want to fuck you?” I hold his gaze. “Yes. Very much. But only if that is what you want. If not, we do something else.”

He licks his lips again and his eyes dance. A smirk lights up his face. “I’m not one to turn down a new experience,” he says.

It takes all my strength not to pounce on him. But I need to practice some restraint. I may have never fucked a man, but I do know enough. And I’m not about to ruin this experience for both of us by going into the endeavor too quickly.

I reach into my nightstand and grab a bottle of lube, then make my way back to the bed. I wind my arms around his body and bring our lips back together. But now, I take it slow. There is no need for us to rush this. In fact, by all accounts this will be better if I take it slow. Drag it out. Get him to beg for me.

Ander

This is the horniest I’ve ever been in my life and this man I’m making out with refuses to touch my dick. And worse, he won’t let me touch his.

And I really really want to touch his dick.

I whine again as he slips another finger into me. He’s been working my ass with his fingers for what feels like forever now, and while, yes, it feels good, I still want more. I want him. Inside me. Right this instant.

“So impatient,” he says. His Russian accent has gotten thicker the longer he takes exploring my body.

Good. Maybe it’s a sign he’s losing his composure. Losing the tight grip of control he always has on himself.

I whine again as he brushes my insides with the pads of his fingers. Whatever he’s hitting in there has me leaking from the slit of my cock. Every time I go to touch it, to stroke myself for some relief, he fixes me with his intense gaze and stops me before I can reach my aching dick.