by Neve Wilder
“So what’s tripping you up?”
Right now? You. I cleared my throat with a frown and centered my focus on my book again, explaining the problem I was stuck on.
Eric dived in, unraveling the complex equation with ease, but explaining it in a way that made so much sense I felt like a bonehead for not getting it in the first place. A half hour later, we’d worked through another set of study problems, and I felt more confident about the exam tomorrow.
He watched me work through the last set, nodding as I moved through it.
“Who are those people you were with earlier today?” I asked, penciling in a number, then pausing to erase it and correct.
“Couple of friends. Why?”
“You just never bring anyone around much.” I’d wondered before. Eric didn’t announce he was bi that I could remember. In fact, I didn’t think I’d even know if Jesse hadn’t told me, and I had no idea how Jesse knew. I’d only ever seen Eric bring home a few girls before, and not with any frequency—though thinking about some of those instances sent another sluice of heat running through me. But he’d never brought home a guy, so if he was getting it, he was getting it elsewhere. And…screen refresh on that sluice of heat; it poured through me all over again, imagining Eric tugging down a guy’s fly, lowering to his knees. God, I needed help.
“No offense, but there’s a strong jock theme running rampant through this house.” His words snapped me back to the present.
“Yeah, but none of us are really dicks. Shit, you’re probably the biggest dick of all of us.” Eric was snarky, no doubt.
“I like to think it’s a good size, yeah,” he quipped back, and I flipped him off to distract myself from thinking about the size of his dick. Man, I was really digging myself deeper into the hole here.
“I dunno,” he continued. “I could, I guess. We just always end up somewhere else.”
“Are you…?” I wasn’t sure how to ask what I wanted to know without being obvious, but apparently my expression was obvious enough.
“Hooking up with one of them? Chet and Amanda?” he laughed. “No, I mean I think Chet would be all over that…but no.” One eyebrow perked. “Why, you interested?” He gave me a cheeky smile, and I blew out a long breath, shaking my head.
“Nope, just asking. The girl was cute.”
“But not Chet?” He seemed very interested in my answer.
I tried for a casual shrug. “He was all right. I mean…yeah, sure.”
“I’d be happy to pass your number to him. Or Amanda. I don’t think either one of them would pass up a body like yours.” He was definitely fucking with me now.
“No, that’s not what I—” I gave an aggravated shake of my head, ignoring his smirk as I bent my head back over the table and glared at the math problem, working through it in silence that grew more awkward by the second.
When I finished, I dropped my pencil on the table and collapsed back into the couch with a long exhale. Eric checked my work, then gave me a nod. “Looks good. I think you’ve got it.”
“Thanks so much, dude, really. This is a huge load off.”
He started chuckling, and it took me a second to realize what was making him laugh, but when I did, that stupid flush started crawling up my cheeks again. I smeared my hands down my face like I could drag the color away. I’d worked myself up so much over the past few days I was about to explode just being near him. I was probably throwing off pheromones like a motherfucker. Was he really unaware? Something about the way he was looking at me made me think he knew exactly how much he’d been on my mind lately.
“It’s not a big deal, you know. I’ve been busted more times than I can count on both hands.” Why? Why did my cock twitch at that?
“Though—” His head tipped to one side, his eyes going distant. “Can’t say I’ve ever actually busted in on a guy and then he shot his load in front of me. Killer timing on that one. Your face, man.” He made a whooshing sound effect. “Shock and awe.”
“Yep, no need to rehash. I was there.”
He grinned as I went redder.
“I’m just fucking with you.” His grin waned when I didn’t smile, and his expression sobered. “I’ll stop.”
“No it’s fine, just—” I shook my head. “I’m making things awkward. Let’s just stop talking about it.”
He shrugged. “Whatever. But really, no need to be awkward. Honestly, at the risk of having you go full bro jock on me, it was pretty fucking hot.”
He did this thing with his lower lip, where his teeth clamped down on the corner, while tendrils of fire crept through me and stoked my pulse. Raw, smack-you-upside-the-head desire coiled in my pelvis. Just that last sentence had unleashed it, and now I was sporting a raging boner. The look he turned on me then was one of assessment, but whatever was in my expression was enough to swivel his head back to my textbook. He dropped the pen he was holding between the pages and stood, shifting, but not enough to hide his own erection.
“Anyhow, if you need more help, you know where to find me.”
I sucked in a breath as he started for the door. “Eric.”
He twisted back toward me in a slow quarter turn, his brows arching high on his forehead. For a minute, I wondered if somehow he’d known this was about to come, if he’d known the second after he walked in on me and had just been waiting. But his expression revealed nothing more than open curiosity.
And God, I had to admit how hot he was right then: the dark tousle of his hair, the intense green-brown stare, that plump, lush mouth of his. He probably got as much ass as he wanted, regardless of gender. I reminded myself I was no slouch either. I had to in order to have the confidence to say what I did next.
“It was hot. For me, too. Obviously.”
Silence. Patient, excruciating silence. Then he wet his lips, and I watched rapt as the pink tip of his tongue slid along his lower lip before his teeth snagged that plump bit of flesh and trapped it. My heart thundered in my chest. “In fact, I was wondering if…if it could happen again.”
“Me walking in on you?” He asked it carefully, studying me.
“More like…maybe you watching me?” Holy shit, I couldn’t believe I was still talking.
“You like being watched?”
“I don’t know.” I was getting worked up again, frustrated, but I wasn’t sure about what, exactly. “The whole thing kind of threw me off because of course I’ve been busted before, but I’ve never had a reaction like that, and now I don’t know whether it’s…” I couldn’t bring myself to say you, so I chose the next best option. “…whether maybe I’m into being watched.”
“Or maybe you’re into dudes, too?” Fucker wasn’t going to let me get away with shit.
I shrugged. “Yeah, maybe that, too.”
“So you’re bicurious, and what, you want to experiment with me?”
“No! That’s not what I fucking said. I said I wanted you to watch me. But forget it, it’s a dumb idea anyway.”
Eric’s head tipped to one side again, a tiny smile playing over his lips as he looked at me like I was completely transparent. “Oh, hell no. I’m not letting you get away with that, Sanders. It’s out there now.”
I tensed on the couch as he turned around, closed the door and locked it, then dragged my wheeled desk chair closer to me before dropping into it.
“What are you doing?” My voice was ragged and thick, choked with my own horniness and rising panic at how much I wanted this. Even if I wanted to pretend I didn’t.
“I’m going to sit in this chair and watch you get off.” He lifted a finger when I started to protest. “And we’re both going to enjoy every second of it.” The guy was confidence embodied, sleek, sexual, primal perfection. My mouth watered just looking at him.
He dropped lightly in the chair and laced his fingers across the waistband of his jeans. It was so startlingly prim for a guy who looked the way he did, all rugged and artfully disheveled, that I would have laughed had he not been staring at me so wolf
ishly.
“Right now? What, so I’m just supposed to start?”
“Looks to me like you’re ready to go. Well, you were a second ago. And no offense, but you’re throwing off vibes like whoa.”
It was true—my erection had flagged in rebellion of this actually happening, actually being watched and expected to get off. I took a second to assess the situation, which only led to mass confusion. This was exactly what I’d been trying desperately not to wish for. And now the opportunity was sitting right there in front of me. Fuck it, I wasn’t going to wimp out. Maybe if I just got it out of my system, I could go back to my previously scheduled programming of tits and pussy.
“Just do what you would if I wasn’t here,” he suggested, getting comfortable in the chair. He spread his legs a little wider and shimmied his shoulders against the back of the chair.
“Ha,” I grumbled. Right. That easy.
Arching against the back of the couch, I eased my pants down to my upper thighs, my flagging dick exposed to the air, to him. But as soon as it was set free and I glanced up to see Eric looking at me with evident, naked hunger, it twitched. A shot of heat streaked through his eyes, but he didn’t say anything. God, he was just going to keep staring at me like that.
My hand wrapped the base of my cock and gave it a squeeze before I dragged up and shivered at the faint sting of dry friction.
Eric wiggled a little in the chair, shifting and tilting his hips slightly. The erection pressing against his jeans formed a huge mound that I couldn’t stop looking at.
“Fuck, you’ve got a nice one on you. Do that again.”
The throaty growl of his voice and the words he spoke had me stifling a groan, but I complied, squeezing my root hard and then tugging upward again with a hiss of pleasure. I was having trouble concentrating, the way his gaze was boring into me, and my dick was threatening to go soft again under his intense scrutiny. I should've put a porno on, some other ambient noise besides the sound of my breath coming out in staccato bursts. I was suddenly too aware of everything around me and of him watching me. I had stage fright. Scratch what I said earlier—I was totally going to wimp out.
“Fuck. This is stupid.” I tucked myself away and got up, starting to push past the chair where he sat so I could open the door and send him on his way. Eric reached out and caught me by the hips when I tried to pass, pulling me between his legs as he looked up at me.
“It’s a lot of things, but stupid isn’t even close to what I’d call it.” That raspy, sexy purr of sound pinned me where I was.
My cock perked at the sensation of his hands on me, the firm grip of his fingers. His thumbs swept back and forth, steadying my nerves but doing some wicked magic to my libido.
“Hot. Sexy. Mouthwatering. Those are just a few.”
I swallowed hard, frozen in place by the slow circles his thumbs made. His fingers flexed slightly, his grasp on my hips adjusting so that the next time his thumbs looped around, they slid under my T-shirt and brushed bare skin. He watched me from beneath his lashes. There was desire in it, but it was sedate. Patient and prowling. “You need more?”
I nodded, only half-aware of what I was doing, and his mouth corkscrewed up in a grin that made my heart start pounding erratically again in anticipation of whatever was coming next. His head drooped forward, lips, chin, and nose brushing over the soft cotton fabric clinging to my groin. He nuzzled into my crotch, almost like a creature seeking attention, and my hand lifted to drop lightly on top of his head, touching the silky, dark strands of hair. I wanted to clench the strands in my fist and tangle my fingers through them, but I didn’t.
He brushed his open mouth across my stiffening cock, his exhale warming the fabric and my shaft beneath before he tipped his chin up to catch my eye again. “Riveting, impossible to look away from.” He exhaled a throaty chuckle. “I’m starting to grasp at straws, here.”
“Yeah, kinda sounds like you’re describing a car wreck or a celebrity meltdown now.” I hated the shaky thread in my voice.
Eric gave me a little smirk, easing back in the chair, then curled his fingers under, hooking the waistband of my pajama pants and drawing them slowly down over the tops of my thighs. “Want to try again?”
I swallowed a gulp of air and nodded, still frozen like a piece of lawn art by his focus. I wanted to keep it, keep him looking at me the way he was, his gaze making a slow circuit from my eyes to my cock. His lips parted on a breath as my hand transferred from the top of his head to the base of my cock jutting hard and swollen between us. When I was unable to get the momentum going again, he reached, watching my expression as he wrapped one hand around mine and started me off.
“Oh God,” I groaned, the sound helpless and raw, but shit, it was…something else, an out-of-this-world turn-on, as Eric's hand started guiding mine up and down my shaft.
“Mmm.” Another seductive purr of sound. “You like that?” His eyes flicked away from my cock, rising to meet mine.
I nodded mutely, struck dumb again as his fingers tightened around mine, pressure intensifying, the strokes slow and easy, considerate of the lack of lube. My body hummed with excitement and arousal like a lightbulb on steroids.
He jacked me for a couple of minutes, and my eyes shuttered closed as I lost myself in the rough pleasure. They snapped wide again at a rustle of sound, his zipper sliding. Another glance upward from Eric as he shifted around in the seat. I caught a flash of taut skin. “Is this okay? Shit, I’m so fucking hard.”
“Yeah.” Did I squeak it or say it? Either way, talk about riveting—once he had his cock out, my eyes were glued to Eric’s lap and the exposed vee of him as he dragged his fist up and down the smooth length. He was thick and long, cockhead so plump with blood it was shining. And he was uncut.
“Wow, that’s…” I was at a loss for words. Again.
“My dick.”
“Not what I was going to say, but yeah, that’s definitely a dick.” I had a sneaking suspicion he knew exactly how to use it to best effect, too, and I got lost for a few seconds, watching him stroke himself, hand gliding from root to tip, twisting a bit over the head, foreskin shifting and rubbing. I’d bet it felt fucking good. First time I’d ever had foreskin envy in my life.
“You’re staring.”
“Yeah, kind of hard not to,” I muttered. “And I need some lube.” The tandem friction of his hand and mine was starting to become abrasive. But I had no idea that he would take the bold initiative of leaning forward and sucking the head of my dick into his mouth.
Erotic, wet heat bloomed around my crown and radiated as his lips wrapped me.
I jerked back so hard and with such a noisy gasp of sound Eric laughed outright, shrugging at my wide-eyed look of surprise. “I mean, my mouth is right there.”
His chin tipped down, and he let a string of spit drizzle onto his own cock, completely unperturbed while my thighs tensed up so hard they burned. It had felt good. So fucking good. My thoughts spun around in overdrive, at war with my body because I’d already gone beyond a half-assed experimental exhibition session. Christ, I was standing between his legs jerking off while he jerked himself. And I was itching for more.
“Do it again,” I whispered, echoing his words from before.
His expression became studious, searching my face while his strokes slowed. I thought he might say something—deny me, make fun of me, jerk my chain somehow—but instead, after a handful of seconds, and with that molten gaze still pinned to mine, he tipped forward, breath and lips ghosting hot over my tip as he flicked his tongue at the ooze of precome from my slit.
I staggered in a breath and made a pitiful sound, this kind of whimpering rasp, like it was the first time someone had put their mouth on my dick. But it was like that in a way with him. The whole thing felt surreal, and suddenly, whatever mental shackles that’d been hanging me up broke. I didn’t give a shit what I looked like or what exactly we were doing, or why, I just wanted it.
I shoved my pants farther dow
n, to my knees, and when he opened his mouth and took me deep, my hand jumped to the back of his chair to steady myself because it was fucking amazing. The hot slip and slide of his mouth, the slurp and smack of his lips as he bobbed on my cock. He was messy and completely unselfconscious about it, which stoked my arousal that much higher.
“Holy fucking shit,” I groaned, spreading my legs wider, muscles straining to brace my weight and keep me from melting into a puddle. The chair began squeaking comically as he moved in it. My hand dropped to my balls, tugging at them, and his hand swerved in to bat mine away as he took over. The guy sucked cock like a pro, like something I’d see in a porno. He lapped fiendishly at me, taking me hard and deep into the back of his throat, then spitting me out all shiny and slick, dripping with his spit.
“I’m gonna blow,” I warned him on a raspy exhale.
He pulled off me, cheeks flushed, his pupils wide and dark. His lips were wet and swollen and so damn sexy it hurt.
“What the hell?” I protested.
He smiled like the devil.
“We’re missing something key, aren’t we?”
I panted, confused, shaking my head. “No, we were definitely not missing anything.”
“You sure?” Then he slid a wet finger behind my sac and brushed over my hole.
My eyes fluttered closed, and I let out a whimper as he circled my pucker with the tip of his finger. It felt amazing. Worlds away from my fumbling, amateur attempts at stimulating my prostate the other night and on nights before. Eric’s finger edged back and forth along my taint, then rubbed persistently at the tight ring of muscle, shredding my restraint. My hips tipped by a fraction at first, magnetized by the light pressure of his touch, then more insistently the more he rubbed my hole but refused to breach it.
“Are you—” I started to question, and that was the moment he slipped the tip of his finger inside me. I clenched instinctively, groaning through the burn of his invasion.
