Summer Sweat (Spruce Texas)

I’ve never had my face this close to another man’s crotch. Well, intentionally, that is; in the heat of the moment on a football field, your face can get just about everywhere on your rivals’ and teammates’ bodies. But Harrison is different. I can stay here as long as I want without a twelve-player pileup as an excuse. I can do whatever I want, too.

And I know he wants me to.

I can feel it in how tense his body just became, as I’m sure he is agonizingly aware of where my face is right now.

I drag my hands down to his jeans, then pop open the button and slowly unzip them, revealing his package contained in a tight pair of underwear. “You’re a briefs man, huh?” I tease, continuing to unzip, feeling all cocky.

When he’s fully unzipped, I realize the true breadth of what he’s been packing.

It’s a lot of breadth.

It’s a lot of packing.

“G-Goddamn,” I breathe out.

Harrison, who was apparently leaning back and ready to drift into another dimension of bliss, looks at me with concern. “What’s going on? Something wrong?”

“I …” Literally speechless here. “Nothin’. It’s nothin’. I just …” I decide to play it off. “That’s a … a mighty big boy you’ve got.”

He frowns, apparently taking my compliment to be some kind of grievous criticism. “So?”

Seriously. Am I really ready for this? My heart’s pounding in my nostrils. “I … I know just about anyone I’ve ever shared a locker room with would kill to pack what you’re packing. Damn, that’s a monster. Am I makin’ this weird?” I ask suddenly. By the look on his face, I guess I am. “Hey, look, it just makes me wonder … like, did you and Tanner ever compare?”

He scoffs at me. “C’mon, man.”

“In the locker room? My teammates and I, we’d compare. It’s hard not to when you shower with them all the time, just sayin’.” I can’t stop talking suddenly. I sneak another peek down at it. “It’s beautiful. It’s—It’s a lot. But it’s sure a sight to impress just about anyone who’s ever seen a dick.”

“Hoyt.”

“Good thing the horses are all outside. Even they’d be jealous.”

He sits up, bringing his face close to mine. His voice is low. “We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

I meet his eyes. “What?”

“We can just kiss. We can just spend time together. We don’t have to do a damned thing.”

I squint. “What’s makin’ you say this? I want to do things.”

“I can see it in your eyes. You’re clearly freaked out.” He lets out a soft chuckle. “After you telling me to not overthink it … now who’s trapped in their own head? Look, don’t pressure yourself. I know you … want stuff. I want stuff, too, but—”

“I’m ready,” I tell him.

Despite my heart racing.

Despite my mouth and throat going dry.

Harrison takes another long look in my eyes, then nods as he seems to decide something. “You know what? I got an idea.”

“An idea …?”

“Yeah. Switch places with me.”

I’m confused by that, until he gently takes hold of my arms and lays me back on the towels, right where he was lying. Then he positions himself by my side and stares down into my eyes with a patient, longing look.

“Alright,” he says. “I’m gonna take the lead here for a bit. You tell me what feels good. You tell me what you like. And if there’s anything I do that you don’t like, tell me to stop, and I stop.”

I consider him for a second, unsure what to make of this. “I’m not freaked out by your dick.”

“I’m thinking it might be better this way.”

Does he think I’m chicken? “Says who?”

“Says the guy who just saw the cat climb all the way up a tree before realizing how tall it is, then too terrified to come down.”

“Huh?”

“We gotta start slow. Baby steps. For both our sake.”

“Wait a damned sec.” I sit up. “Am I the cat??”

He lets out a choked laugh, then puts an assuring hand on my chest and pushes me back down. “Relax, Hoyt. You already did the heavy lifting, getting my stubborn ass out here so we can be alone. Let me take over for a bit, alright?”

I think it over. Then I shrug, decide to let him have this, and throw my hands behind my head as I lie back. “Alright.”

He smirks at me, then drags his eyes down to my chest. When he puts his hand there, I close my eyes. His fingers are slow and so unexpectedly gentle, I find my body growing stiff and silent, like I’m afraid I might spook away an animal.

“Your heart’s pounding,” he notes.

“Y-Yeah.” I’m breathing kind of funny, too. The excitement is back with a vengeance. I have no idea what he’s about to do.

After lingering on my chest for a while, his hand gently slides down to my abdomen. I feel him tug on my shirt before his hand slides under it. I part my lips as his fingers play across my skin. All kinds of happy, sensitive jolts chase their way through my body from his mere touch. I’m pure electricity.