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When Everything Is Blue by Laura Lascarso (24)

Muy, Muy

 

 

I THOUGHT it would be weird dating my best friend. Like, it might be awkward at first, or we might need to give each other some space so we don’t wear ourselves out. But as it turns out, our romantic relationship is a lot like our best friendship, only with sexy times. Like, we’ll be playing video games and one of us will get horny and then we’re rolling around on the floor with our mouths mashed together or dry humping to get ourselves off before anyone catches us. Or we’ll be skating somewhere, and Chris’ll corner me behind a building for a quick make-out sesh. Our friends all know we’re together, but we don’t do a lot of PDA’s. Chris probably wouldn’t mind it, but I don’t like having our relationship on display, especially after What’s in Wooten’s mouth? I’d like to keep our business between us.

Sometimes we get lucky and our parents will be out of the house, and one of us will put out the bat signal that we’re in the clear for some heavy petting.

Like today, we’re in Chris’s bedroom because his parents aren’t home from work yet, and Paloma has the day off. Chris cleverly added his parents to Find My Friends so he can track their commute from work to home. They still haven’t left the office, which means we have another half hour at least. We’re taking a break, both shirtless and laid out on his bed. Chris is a cuddler, so even when we’re not making out, he likes to be touching.

“Tell me about the first time you knew you had feelings for me,” Chris says with his face buried in my neck, one arm draped across my chest and his other hand nestled in my hair.

I think back to about a year ago, when we were surfing down at the pier. Chris fell asleep on a beach towel, and I was lying beside him on my own towel with my sunglasses on, trying to appear to be napping, but really I was watching him sleep, like a complete weirdo. I remind him of that day, then admit, “You were getting a hard-on, and I was imagining sucking you off.”

“Really?” His eyebrows shoot up as he assesses me. “The first thought you had about me was a blowjob? That’s so… advanced.”

“I’ve always been at the head of the class. How about you?”

“There was no first time for me,” he says, nosing my shoulder. “Remember when you were helping me out with geometry?”

“Yeah.”

“I actually didn’t need that much help. I just missed us not being at the same school. And when you’d be figuring out a problem, you’d get this cute little wrinkle on your forehead.” He kisses the center of my brow. “Or you’d, like, gaze off at nothing, and I’d think about kissing you.”

I shake my head at that, even though there’s a smile on my face. “I still can’t believe you knew for so long.”

He sighs. “I did and I didn’t. I wasn’t sure if I was just in love with you as a friend or if there was something sexual behind it. When I got back from California and saw you, I knew it was physical too. It was like, rawr.” His rawr is a deep growl that turns me on like nothing else.

“Rawr to you too.” I roll onto my side to kiss him. Our lips and tongues get lost in each other, a dizzying dance where I lose all sense of time or place. Our chests press together, and he rolls me over so I’m on top of him. I brace myself on my elbows and tangle my fingers in his hair, then work my way down his neck to his collarbone, following the line to the hollow of his throat. He bucks a little to show me how aroused he is, but I couldn’t possibly miss it.

“So nice,” Chris murmurs dreamily, a slow smile pouring across his face as I lazily pump my hips back and forth, feeding the mounting friction between us.

“Where are your parents now?” I ask.

Chris reaches for his phone. I lean down to kiss both of his amazing pecs. I tease one nipple with my tongue and then the other. I nuzzle his chest and inhale deeply. If I could replicate his scent, I would pour it all over everything I own.

“Still at work.” He grabs my face in both hands and brings my mouth to his, kisses me deeply.

I sit back and unbutton his shorts, yank them and his underwear all the way off so he’s completely naked. “I like the sound of this,” he says and props himself up a little on his pillows. I grab hold of his already hard penis and stroke him a few times, admiring the tightness of his cock and balls. With my fingertip I trace the tan line across his lower abdomen, below which the sun never touches. Mine, I feel like growling. Chris groans and raises his hips off the bed, responsive to my touch. I scoot down so I’m kneeling between his legs, bow down, and gobble up his cock, relaxing my throat so I can take him in deep.

“Aren’t we supposed to use condoms for this?” he asks.

I recall his mom’s five-paragraph essay on safe sex. Dave and I used condoms in the beginning, but we got a little lazy about it toward the end. There’s really no risk for Chris, but if he wants to return the favor, then I should probably wear a condom. Until I get tested, it’s better safe than sorry.

“Where do you keep them?” I ask.

“Treasure chest, Goldfish bag.”

I find his stash, rip open the condom, and unroll it over his thick erection. “This must be where you keep all those biscuits, Gordito,” I tease him.

“Yeah, and you look hungry,” Chris says with a smile.

I resume my role with plenty of slobber and enthusiasm, which I’ve discovered is the key to a good blowjob. Chris writhes and bucks beneath me, and I have to steady him with my hand on his chest in order to keep up a successful rhythm.

Ohmygodwhatareyoudoing, yes, Theo, yes,” he exclaims as he rises off the bed and jams his junk so far down my throat I gag a little. He pumps his hips a few more times and then floods the condom. I latch on until the last little jog.

“Sorry about that,” he says afterward with a huge grin that reminds me of the look he used to get after he smoked weed.

“Feel good?” I ask as I slide off the condom.

“Felt fucking amazing. You learn that from Asshole Dave?”

“Yeah.”

Chris shakes his head. “Well, at least he was good for something.” Chris is completely blissed out, so I wrap the condom in a tissue a few times and deposit it in the bathroom trash. “Don’t forget to take out the trash so Paloma doesn’t find this.”

“She won’t dig that deep.”

I come out of the bathroom to give him a look, “Chris, come on, don’t be lazy.”

He’s still smiling. I don’t think there’s anything I could say to wipe that self-satisfied grin off his face.

“Come back. I’m lonely,” he whines. Back in his bed, he drapes his thigh over my hip and asks me, “You think you could show me how to do that?”

I give him a doubtful look. “Maybe, but it’s going to take a lot of practice if you hope to get as good at it as me.” He shoves a pillow at me and I shove it back, which turns into a wrestling match. Chris pins me to his mattress with all his weight on top of me. I stop squirming and stare at him with abject adoration because I want to be conquered by him every which way.

“I love you, Theodore Wooten the Third,” he says and rubs his naked groin against my full-bodied and clothed erection. He leans down and licks my cheek like a dog. Strangely enough, he’s done that a few times, before we were even together.

“I love you too, Christian Mitcham the First.”

“Muy, muy?” he asks with the bright-eyed confidence of someone who already knows the answer.

I laugh and free my arms to grapple him into a big bear hug. “Sí, Gordito, muy, muy.”