“Well, do you want to?” Milton asked, matter-of-factly.
“Ummm, yeah?”
He leaned over and touched his lips to mine softly, his kiss a question. The warmth of him next to me, his smell, the brush of his hand against my face. It didn’t feel scary or intense like Will or overwhelming like this city. It just felt comfortable. Welcoming. Like someone actually appreciated me for once. Wanted me. Not out of pity or because I wore them down, but because maybe he actually liked me.
I sought his lips again, pulled him down next to me until we were facing each other. Then he gave me this grin—this bright grin full of joy, and went for it, lips and tongue and hands everywhere. Every time we pulled apart for breath, Milton smiled at me, like he was happy to be there, with me, right then. Until I pushed my hand up the back of his stupid T-shirt and rested it between his shoulder blades, holding him to me. Then his smile turned wolfish, and he tangled our legs together, so we were locked up tight.
I froze when the bulge in his tight jeans ground against my answering hardness. At my stuttering breath, Milton kissed me deeper and rolled his hips into mine. The pulse of pleasure washed through me like a stone dropped into still water and heat crept down the backs of my thighs and up into my stomach.
Milton’s groan was unguarded appreciation, and he kissed my neck. I was light-headed with sensation, and I didn’t know what I was supposed to do, really, so I just ran my hands over the smooth skin of Milton’s back. His kisses canted my head back, and I found myself straining to see the stars like I could at home. It seemed like they should be there, clear and bright, standing witness.
But then Milton went for my zipper and I didn’t give a crap about the stars anymore because his hand felt amazing, his grip firm as he started to stroke me. I struggled up to my knees, almost falling on my face because of the tangle Milton had made of my pants, and pulled him up, unzipping him and trying to pull down his jeans. They were so tight I ended up with my face level with his crotch, trying to yank at the fabric.
I was swearing at his pants and kind of laughing, too, because my dick was sort of just bobbing between us. Milton had his lip caught between his teeth, silently cracking up at me.
“Too tight,” I complained, and he just laughed harder. Finally he took pity on me and slid his jeans down gracefully, like a snake shedding its skin. We were kneeling, facing each other, and I was appreciating the first hard-on I’d ever seen in, you know, context.
“You want me to shine my flashlight app down there or something, bro?” he asked, and I realized I was basically just staring at his dick in the dark of the rooftop with my junk hanging out like a total fool.
“No, it’s okay.”
He chuckled and pulled me upright, pressing me against the wall when I lost my balance, my pants still rucked around my ankles, and licked a slow line up my throat. My heart was beating wildly and I grabbed at his shoulders to keep steady.
With his face buried in my neck, he started stroking me, slow and hard, until I was pushing my hips toward him and squirming to encourage him to go faster. His breath against my wet skin was warm, and the smell of his cologne was intoxicating.
I wanted to make him feel as good as he was making me feel, but my hands were shaky and useless. I pulled at his ass, trying to get him closer and, with a groan, he palmed his erection and started stroking us together. He was hard and slick, and we strained together.
I had my eyes squeezed shut so tight I saw starbursts of white before I felt the explosion. Milton’s hand took me over the edge, and it was like everything was collapsing. A sky folding in at the edges and buckling like paper crumpled in the hand.
My thighs were trembling and my stomach was clenching and my breath was coming short as I collapsed against the wall, pulling Milton closer. This time when I reached for him, he pressed himself into my hand and both our fists slid over his dick faster, faster, until he swore and came, biting my earlobe hard enough to sting.
He didn’t let me feel awkward or weird about being slumped against a total stranger, half-naked, slick with sweat and tacky with come. He just snaked back into those damn jeans and dragged mine up by the belt loops, zipping me back up carefully and kissing me once more on the mouth.