Total pages in book: 12
Estimated words: 10791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 54(@200wpm)___ 43(@250wpm)___ 36(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 10791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 54(@200wpm)___ 43(@250wpm)___ 36(@300wpm)
“Do you want to dance?” he asked.
“Yes, but I’m not very good at it.” Might as well be truthful, even if it made me blush again. “Actually, that might be a good metaphor for the rest of the evening.”
“Are you nervous?” he asked, patting my hand.
“A little.”
“If it helps, I am too.” He wrapped his arm around me. “I like you a lot. I don’t want to screw anything up, and not simply because we work together. This matters.”
“It matters to me too,” I said before Marshall leaned in for a fast, soft kiss. As with everything he did, he was a very thoughtful, present kisser who gave the endeavor his full attention, and as much as I was nervous, I also couldn’t wait to see where else he turned that intensity on.
And so we danced. As I’d suspected, Marshall was far better at dancing than me, but he was also good at leading and covering up for my missteps. He was taller than me, yet we fit together remarkably well. The more we danced, the more my anticipation for later grew until excitement replaced most of my nerves.
Back at his place, however, my anxiety reappeared as Marshall hung our suit jackets on hangers in his small entryway closet. I liked his apartment, which had a large, sunny front room with a kitchen off to one side and a bedroom beyond. His mother had done a good job with the colorful decor that felt modern and fresh while still matching Marshall’s overall serious vibe.
“We did pretty well the other night,” he remarked offhandedly. “Kissing and sleeping together. We can do more of that if you want. I’m not in a hurry to run all the bases.”
“I might be.” I chuckled as I followed him to the bedroom. The cream-colored walls featured abstract art in shades of blue complemented by a dusky teal comforter. “But starting with what we’re good at might be wise.”
“Indeed.” He grinned. He did that a lot more these days—smiled at me. Considering how solemn he could be at other times, his grins made me feel special, like I alone was allowed to peek at his playful side. He unbuttoned his dress shirt, and I followed his cues until we were both in our boxers and lying under the covers, a cozy repeat of the other night.
“Come here,” he ordered, drawing me closer for a much more lingering kiss than the one earlier. He hadn’t worn an undershirt, so his chest was bare. He had a smattering of dark chest hair compared to my thicker reddish fuzz. I couldn’t resist stroking his muscular upper arms as we kissed.
Marshall kissed like he truly wanted to learn what I liked, making happy groans whenever he discovered something new, like how nibbling on my lower lip made me wriggle and clutch his arms. My erection nudged his through the fabric of our boxers.
“Do we need to be careful of your pump?” I asked. I’d caught a glimpse of the pump lurking above the waistband of his boxers on his hip.
“The adhesive on this new brand is pretty strong, but a little caution doesn’t hurt. I usually rotate between my upper arm, thigh, belly, and hip when I change it every couple of days.”
“Good to know.” I moved my caresses to his chest but stayed north of his pump and anything else lower, like his cock. We were both hard, but as Marshall had said, we didn’t need to hurry.
“Cautious doesn’t mean you need to avoid the area completely.” Marshall’s chuckle was a warm rumble against my lips as we traded more kisses.
I could take a hint, so I slowly slid a hand down his stomach to play with his cock through his boxers. He moaned approvingly, so I went ahead and slid it out for easier stroking. His cock reflected his overall build, long and lean, with a tapered, oval head. Feeling wasn’t enough for me, so I kicked free of the covers in order to see as well.
And seeing made me want to taste, saliva gathering in my mouth and lust pooling low in my gut.
“Can I go down on you?” I asked, already sliding lower.
“Please. Just don’t rest your hand on the pump, and we’re good.” He wriggled the rest of the way out of his boxers, and hot damn, was he ever sexy. The room’s low light played up the copper tones in his skin and the definition in his arms and thighs. His cock was uncut with plenty of foreskin to play around with as I resumed jacking him slowly.
Deep-throating wasn’t in my particular skill set, but I liked teasing with my tongue while I stroked, working up to shallow sucking on his cockhead.
“That feels so good.” Marshall’s praise went a long way to embolden me. Maybe I didn’t have to be a champion cocksucker as long as I made this one particular person feel amazing. And judging by his moans, I was doing a decent job of that.