Merry Cherry Christmas

“Yes,” Jeremy breathed. He was still holding Max’s shaft, his gaze fixed on the dick in his hand like he couldn’t believe it was real.

“It’s real, and it’s spectacular,” Max said, quoting that Seinfeld rerun with the chick from Desperate Housewives, which Meg had watched obsessively on her mom’s DVD player when they were kids.

Jeremy laughed so loudly he snorted. Max wasn’t sure he got the reference but supposed he didn’t need to. “It is,” Jeremy agreed. Tentatively, he ran his hand up and down Max’s shaft.

“That feels good. Get that lube.” He waited while Jeremy quickly grabbed it from a drawer and sat back over his knees. “You don’t need much. Just—”

“Shit!” Jeremy stared at the huge squirt of lube on his right palm that was already dripping down to his wrist.

“It’s okay.” Max chuckled, rubbing a soothing palm up and down Jeremy’s back. “Just get your hand back on me.”

“Sorry.” Jeremy shook his head, still staring at the mess of lube. “Sorry,” he repeated. “I’m such a klutz.”

“Dude, you can soak me in lube for all I care. Squeeze the rest of the bottle over my head. Whatever. Just touch me. Because, in case you forgot, I’m rock hard for you. And I need you to get me off. The sooner you do that, the sooner I’m gonna suck your cock.”

Jeremy pressed his lips together, inhaling sharply. “I’m going to come in my pants if you keep talking like that.”

Max grinned and pulled his head down for a rough kiss, biting at Jeremy’s lip before he hissed, “You’ll come when I blow you and not a second before. Trust me, it’ll be worth the wait.”

“Uh-huh!” Jeremy nodded again, reaching for Max’s dick.

Max leaned back against the wall, loving the sight of Jeremy working him. He wanted to lick the freckles scattered over Jeremy’s knuckles. “Mmm, that’s good. Harder. You won’t hurt me. You know what it feels like when you get yourself off. You know what you like. I probably like it too. I’ll tell you if I don’t.”

With another nod, Jeremy stroked Max’s cock more forcefully. Faster. Then slow. Teased the head with a twist of his hand and his clever thumb. His gaze was locked on his work, the pink tip of his tongue poking from between his lips in concentration.

Fuck, he’s beautiful.

“That’s good,” Max murmured.

“Okay.” With his free hand, Jeremy tentatively snaked under Max’s sweatshirt. He circled one nipple, then squeezed.

Max arched his back. “Oh, yeah.” He tugged the cotton off over his head and tossed it wherever. He clenched his hands in the sheets, letting this be Jeremy’s time to explore him. “You like that?” he asked. “You touch your nipples when you make yourself come?”

“Yeah.” Jeremy continued jerking Max while he teased and rubbed Max’s nipples, sending zaps of electricity straight down.

Max lifted his hips to tug his jeans and underwear lower. “Touch my balls.”

Jeremy shifted Max’s lubed shaft to his left hand and explored lower with his right. He caressed softly. “Like this?”

“Mmm, more.” Max breathed harder. He choked down a plea for Jeremy to suck his balls. That might be too much. “Yeah, like that. Bit harder…”

Whatever Jeremy lacked in finesse, he made up for in concentration and enthusiasm. It didn’t take long for Max to thump his head back, gasping. “I’m gonna come. Don’t stop.”

Jeremy stroked him hard with his right hand again. “Please come now so I can too.”

Max’s orgasm burst out of him along with a belly-deep laugh. He laughed through the burn of sweet, intense pleasure, his hips twitching as he spilled. When he was done, he pulled Jeremy’s head down for a long kiss.

“You did good,” he mumbled against Jeremy’s lips.

“Thank you.”

Max opened his eyes. “Did you come in your pants?”

“Almost.” He laughed and sat up.

“But you didn’t. Good boy.” Max had to kiss him again before flopping back against the periodic table. “Fuck. I needed that.” His eyes were heavy, and he let them close for a second. He idly stroked Jeremy’s back.

It was the wet smacking noise, barely audible, that had Max opening his eyes again. His usual drowsy, post-orgasm haze evaporated in a heartbeat.

Jeremy was licking Max’s cum off his fingers.

“Oh my fucking God,” Max muttered.

Brows meeting, Jeremy met his gaze, his jizz-splattered hand hovering by his mouth. “Is this weird?”

“Not weird,” Max managed, his throat dry with fresh lust. “You like it? You like how I taste?”

“I think so?” Jeremy slowly sucked his index finger into his mouth like he was conducting a science experiment.

Max found himself laughing again. He’d had his fair share of good sex, but he couldn’t remember laughing this much during it. He stroked Jeremy’s hair. Couldn’t remember feelings this…tender. It wasn’t a bad thing. In fact, it was pretty great.

He said, “You don’t have to like it, for the record. Some guys don’t swallow to cut their risk of STIs.”