Resist (Sphere of Irony 3)

“Lay down.”

I comply without hesitation, situating myself into the center of the large mattress. Gavin joins me, crawling on top of my body until everything lines up perfectly from chest to thighs. When our bare cocks slide against each other, it reignites the raw need I’ve been holding inside.

I throw back my head. “Fuck, Gavin. You feel so fucking good.” Gavin gives me a wicked smirk and laughs, thrusting his hips again, bringing with it a wave of pleasure.

“What?” I’m leery of the humorous look on his face. What if he’s making fun of me? He moves once more and I gasp, my eyes nearly rolling back in my head.

“You. You almost never swear. Being able to make you curse is so fucking hot.”

Gavin snakes a hand down between our bodies and wraps it around both of our cocks.

“Jesus.” My back arches off the bed and my eyes flutter shut. “Fuck.”

“Hang on, Utah. We’re only just getting started.”

Gavin squeezes tight and begins to move, thrusting his cock against mine over and over while jacking us with his hand. Every time the heads of our cocks slide over one another, a burst of light flashes behind my eyelids and my balls jerk up.

I can’t take it. It’s so erotic, feels so unbelievably good, that I raise my head so I can see what Gavin is doing. The sight of us both wrapped in his large hand, slipping up and down through his tight fist, does me in.

With a toe-curling tremor, the orgasm crashes through me. My abs clench tight as a ripple of pleasure pulses down my spine and explodes. Creamy jets shoot out over Gavin’s hand and my stomach. Gavin shouts and follows, his release joining mine as he falls over the edge with me.

My skin is still flushed and humming when Gavin rolls onto the bed next to me, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath. I lay still, waiting for the inevitable rush of shame.

“Hey.”

My eyes flick over to find Gavin propped on one elbow, watching me carefully. I’m entranced by his beauty—bright eyes, full mouth, the way his sculpted cheekbones are stained a rosy pink from pleasure.

“Mitch, are you okay?”

A tiny wrinkle forms between Gavin’s brows and the corners of his mouth turn down.

I think about what just happened and am surprised at how I feel.

Gavin

I tense up, waiting for it—the denial, the anger, the blame, the “I’m not gay” excuses. Mitch is laying flat on the bed next to me with his head turned my way. He’s staring—not moving, not speaking—hell, if he wasn’t breathing I’d be worried. After an eternity, he blinks.

“I…I feel great,” he says. Relief washes over me and my entire body relaxes.

I reach out and skim a finger down his arm. Mitch shivers and closes his eyes. We have so much to discuss but I don’t want to ruin this moment. If I push to hard, he could end up resenting what we did. Instead of drilling him with the hundred and one questions I have, I get out of bed to give him some space.

“We should get cleaned up,” I comment as I pull on my briefs.

Mitch blinks several times. I watch as his expression turns from blissful to confused.

“Oh. Okay.”

Shit. I’m such an asshole. So he didn’t want space. Instead, Mitch looks like he was just slapped.

I reach for his hand as he gets up and grabs his clothes. “Mitch—”

“No. I get it. I’ll meet you in the kitchen after you get…cleaned up.” He turns and storms out of the room.

I groan and rub my face tiredly as I turn on the shower. After quickly cleaning off, which was a disappointment because I loved having Mitch’s scent all over me, I hurry downstairs to try and fix my fuck up.

I mean, how was I supposed to know what Mitch wanted from me after sex? Does he cuddle? Does he fall asleep? Does he leave right away? Fuck, the man hardly knows what he wants for himself!

When I get to the kitchen, it’s unnervingly silent. My lunch is right where I left it, sitting half-eaten on the table. Annoyed, I dump the food in the trash and put the dish in the dishwasher. I glance at the clock, two in the afternoon. Late enough, I decide as I snatch a beer out of the fridge and flip off the cap.