It was that feeling, that fear, that propelled me forward, that made me open my mouth and ask, “What would you do to me?” My voice was deep and raspy with the want I felt.
Fire ignited in Weston’s eyes, but he looked calm, collected in a way I wasn’t.
“I’d start out by kissing the corner of your lips. Right here.” Weston reached out and brushed his thumb over the left side of my mouth.
“Just…just right there?” I was ridiculously breathless when all Weston had done was talk about a chaste kiss.
“For starters, yes. From there, I’d kiss the other side. I’d draw it out, tease you and make you wait, savor you because I know it would be my only time with you, and I know you’d be dying for it, for my tongue against yours and whatever else I chose to do to you.”
My cock began to plump behind my athletic pants. My breathing picked up even more, quick, short, embarrassing.
Weston slid his thumb along my bottom lip. “After I kissed you here, I’d trail my mouth down your neck, then back up again. Maybe lick your collarbone, behind your ear, suck your earlobe.”
“Oh God.” I closed my eyes. I was getting off on him doing nothing more than talking to me and touching my mouth. Christ, how could I keep going? How could I stop this?
“Open your eyes, Anson. I’d want you to look at me so you knew exactly who was driving you wild.”
I did as he said, obeying easily. “I, um… Would you kiss me then?”
“Oh yes. I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. Since the first moment I saw you, I’ve been making myself crazy, wondering what you taste like. I’d torture you some more first, though, wait until you were out of your mind for a simple fucking kiss before I gave it to you, before I pushed my tongue inside and gave you what you were dying for.”
I was losing it. My whole body was trembling now, and I swore it felt like I was going to burst, there was so much pressure inside.
“You have me hard, so fucking hard. Did you ever jack off thinking of me? I did thinking of you.”
“Yesss,” I replied on a hiss, surprised I was being honest, but I didn’t have it in me to hold back. I wanted Weston to do everything he’d said to me. I wanted him to do more.
“Good. I’d like to see that, but if I only had once with you, I’d do it myself. After I kissed you, I’d take your shirt off and lick and suck my way down your gorgeous body until I got to your pants.”
I leaned against the back of the couch and rubbed my hand over my erection, watching him, listening to him. I couldn’t find it in myself to care anymore.
“I’d slide them off, touch you, stroke you. I bet you’re real fucking big. I bet you have a nice, fat cock. It would be leaking, wouldn’t it? I’d rub my thumb over the head, then taste your precome. I’d probably be losing my fucking mind by then, so I’d get on my knees for you, nuzzle your balls, lick and suck them before I took your cock to the back of my throat.”
I pressed harder with the palm of my hand, rough friction against my erection, wishing it was more, wishing it was Weston.
“I’m really good at sucking dick. I’d even let you fuck my throat, and when you came, I’d swallow every last drop. When you fell back, limp and sated, I’d jerk off on you until my come painted your muscular chest and abs.”
My vision was blurring, my groin thrusting against my hand, my body tingling, arching up off the cushion, the pressure building and building until I let go, cried out, and came in my pants from nothing more than a little rubbing and listening to Weston talk.
I fell back, just like he’d said, only I wasn’t naked, and he hadn’t sucked me off or jacked off on me. He hadn’t kissed me and had barely touched my mouth. I threw an arm over my face, shame working its way through me. I’d just come in my pants over…nothing.
“I can’t believe I just did that,” I said softly.
“Don’t hide.” Weston pulled my arm away. “That was sexy as hell, and you obviously needed it.”
“Not helping,” I replied with a small smile. My gaze darted to his groin. He was very clearly hard. “I’m sorry.” I couldn’t say what I was apologizing for, just felt like I needed to.
“You have nothing to be sorry about. Like I said, that was hot. I have a perfectly good hand. Have you ever been with a man at all? Even before professional football?”
That time when I looked away, Weston didn’t try to stop me. “No.”