There! He laughed, just for a moment, the choked sound barely escaping. But it was undeniably a laugh, and it made me happier than it had any right to.
“Oh, yeah. You need this so badly. Do you jerk off a lot? I bet you do. But this is better, isn’t it?” His dick throbbed in my hand as I grasped it again. “Mmm. You like this, right? Your cock is gorgeous, you know that?” I bit his earlobe—not too hard, but hard enough.
A sweet, perfect little moan escaped him. I wanted to shout in triumph, and any blood remaining in the top half of my body flooded south. I let go of his junk, and he whimpered.
“Feel how hard you make me?” I guided his hand to the bulge in my pants, groaning when he rubbed me. “Oh, fuck. You turn me on.”
He practically squeaked, face adorably red by now. I grinned, stroking him faster and harder. “You have no idea how hot you are. But you feel it, right? I’m about to jizz in my pants for you. But I want you to come first. I want to see you let go. You want to know a secret?”
Panting, Henry opened his eyes, his chest heaving.
“I’ve thought about you when I jerk off. Fucked myself on my fingers and imagined it’s you filling me. I spurt so much cum thinking about you, Henry.”
Mission accomplished, because now Henry was the one spurting cum all over my hand, his flushed neck bared as he spasmed, mouth open. I milked his shaft and talked him through it, praising him, not even sure what I was saying.
Then it was my turn to gasp. Henry pushed me back against the seat and freed my straining cock from my practice pants and underwear. Bending over my lap, he swallowed the head of my dick.
“Oh, fuck yes.”
With his usual quiet intensity, Henry sucked me like the technical specialist would be reviewing every angle. It was a little clumsy, and I wondered again how much practice he’d had—or hadn’t. I liked the idea that he was inexperienced. There was so much we could explore together.
Winding my fingers in the soft flop of his hair, I made sure not to pull. “Feels amazing.”
He swirled his tongue tentatively, and I kept talking, encouraging him. I didn’t mind when he scraped a bit with his teeth. I liked roughness sometimes, though I was sure Henry hadn’t meant it. He was slurping, fingers digging into my knee, sucking harder and harder.
I wanted to tell him it was okay, and he didn’t have anything to prove, but it felt too good. All I could do was groan and warn him—a second too late—everything going tight.
He coughed and sputtered, releasing me as my orgasm exploded, my spine arching. “Henry,” I moaned.
When he sat up, I didn’t let go of his skull, petting the back of his head as I blinked back to reality. I focused on him, my breath catching as I got a good look at his face.
At the milky drops on his chin and red lips.
His mouth glistened, and he blinked at me, looking slightly dazed. I’d officially never wanted to kiss anyone so much in my whole life. Henry Sakaguchi had just blown me, and he looked so nervous, and it was precious.
“That was incredible,” I murmured.
Eyebrows up, he smiled tentatively. A little twitch at first, then I saw actual teeth. Yeah, yeah, I’d seen him smiling with teeth on the podium and for pictures or whatever, but this wasn’t that. This was real.
I like you so much.
Honestly, what even was my life? How had I fallen for Henry Sakaguchi of all people? His smile faltered as I leaned in. I paused and whispered, “It’s okay. I’m just going to clean you up.”
The adorable brow furrow made its appearance, and I slowly, slowly, licked the bitter drops from his chin before swiping the last one at the corner of his mouth with the tip of my tongue.
He shuddered, fingers painful on my knee. I wanted to kiss him so bad—ly—but I wouldn’t cross his line.
The slam of a car door made us both jump. Slapping my hand over my mouth, I peered around, but still couldn’t see anyone amid the rows of vehicles. Laughing, I slumped against him, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his throat, feeling the faintest scratch of stubble.
“Guess we’d better go upstairs,” I mumbled against his skin.
“Mm.” That familiar sound was raspy.
We hauled our skating bags out of the trunk and crossed the concrete lot in silence that I wanted to fill. It was freezing, and I wished we could get in the hot tub.
I said, “Brr,” because I was a dumbass.
As we got on the elevator, Henry asked, “What are you eating tonight?”
“I’m ordering Swiss Chalet. I saw a commercial for the special they have with stuffing and cranberry sauce to go with the chicken. And chocolates. My mom won’t like it, but whatever. It’s Christmas.” I fidgeted uneasily. “I should be better, I know.”