Jock Auction (17 page)

“Jeff won’t give you shit because he’ll know you’re my boyfriend. None of the

team will.”

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He was looking at me curiously now, as if still not quite understanding what it

was I was saying.

“But you’re not out, Kyle.” He snorted. “Jeez, I mean we’re not sure you’re even

gay.”

My grin was lopsided and awkward, but I tried to look as authentically confident

as I could. I shrugged a little and shoved my hands in my pockets in what I hoped was a “shucks, me?” sort of pose.

“So I’ll be out with you. For the first time, I mean. And maybe I’m gay, or bi, or confused and open-minded and a bit of everything. I just know that I’d rather figure all that out with you than with anybody else. If you’ll still have me, that is.”

I held my breath. Craig looked at me as if he was trying to read my every thought, feeling, and motivation in the set of my face and the fix of my grin. A beat. My heart was doing its best to punch a staccato out of my chest. Another beat.

“We’re ditching school,” he told me, finally. I let the air seep from my lungs. “We need to talk.”

I opened the door for him, then almost sprinted round to the driver’s side, half

terrified that he might change his mind before I could start the engine. He wouldn’t look at me, just straight ahead out of the windshield. “Take me to my house,” he told me, then clammed up.

I drove like I was delivering a heart transplant, trying to be as quick as I could with precious cargo onboard. Occasionally I’d glance across at him, but he never looked back. His face was expressionless, hands clasped and motionless in his lap, knees

together and feet splayed with his bag in between.

When we finally made it, he got out and opened the front door without a word to

me. Left me to walk in behind him, shut the door again, and follow him up to his room.

I tried to blink away the thought of how we’d left things here the last time, how angry he’d been.

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Craig closed the door and leaned against it. I sat on the edge of the bed, not quite trusting myself to speak.

“You’re not going to come out because of me,” he blurted, eventually. I guessed

he’d been planning what to say the whole drive over.

I shook my head. “I’m going to come out. I’m hoping that when that happens,

you’ll be the guy who I’m with.”

He rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “I know you know you fucked

up, Kyle. But you don’t have to go overboard trying to fix it.”

I bristled at that a little. “If I’d tried to tell you how you actually felt back when we first met, when I was in this room on day one—if I’d tried to tell you it was a dumb crush you were feeling—what would you have said to me then? Would you have let me

explain away your feelings?”

Craig stared at me, lips pressed tightly together, hands at his sides. He looked

uncomfortable.

“No, you wouldn’t,” I concluded for him. “So don’t try to write me off as some

‘dumb jock’ who doesn’t know what he’s feeling. I fucked up royally, and the only good thing to come from it was that I realized how I actually feel about you. Either say no because I hurt you and you don’t trust me not to do it again or say yes because you want to give this a chance. Don’t push me away because of some paranoid psychology, Craig.”

I shut up then. I hadn’t planned any of it. It just came out when I started talking, and I couldn’t stop until I was done. It was the purest, most honest expression of what was going on inside me, and that was all I could offer him.

“I…” he started, stopped, swallowed. “I want to give it a chance. You and me.”

I’d been holding my breath again I discovered as I stood up and crossed the room

to him. He looked fragile but hopeful, a little like I remembered him from that first encounter, body trembling with fear and anticipation. I trailed my thumb across his cheekbone, let my fingers cradle the side of his head.

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“I’m really glad about that, Craig. Really, really glad.” And I was; right then, in that moment, it felt the most right and normal thing to do, to be with him. Fuck what Jeff or any other Neanderthal might say.

The feel of his skin under my hand sent blood rushing to my crotch, and I

awkwardly took a half step back, not wanting to remind him of my clumsy attempt at seduction the other night. Craig slipped his hand around my waist, though, pulled me back in until our bodies were touching from the stomach down. I could feel the jut of his erection pressing against me.

“Where’re you going, Kyle?” he asked me, a knowing, slightly dirty grin across

his face. “Seems to me you’ve got some boyfriend duties to take care of…”

I smiled at that. It sounded right, somehow, even in as much as it was also weird

to think that I, a guy, now had a boyfriend. But introspection took a backseat as Craig pivoted his hips against me, dragging the heft of his bulge across mine.

I dipped my hand to the small of his back, then set to worming my fingers down

into his skinny jeans until my palm was plastered against his cheek through the thin cotton of his underwear. I trailed my fingertips into the tight crack of his ass, dug through the fabric to press at him. I knew Craig loved having his ass played with. In fact, I had to admit that I wasn’t averse to it myself. I also knew how much fun it could be to get him worked up and begging to be fucked.

He reached for the hem of my T-shirt and tugged it over my head, ran his hands

across my chest. I felt my nipples hardening as he teased them between thumb and

forefinger, pulling and pinching at them while I mauled at his butt and did my best to work open his fly. Eventually I managed and tugged open his jeans, then immediately dipped my hand in under his briefs and hooked my eager fingers into the warmth

between his legs.

Craig’s cock was doing its level best to escape his underwear. I’d always been

impressed by its size, particularly emphasized by his relatively compact frame. The 118
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flashback memory of my dream, Craig nailing my hole, made my ass twitch at the

thought of it.

Could I take him? I’d taken Louis, after all, and he was hardly small. Then again, I wasn’t sure that Craig even wanted to fuck me; so far, we’d always settled into pretty conventional roles, the dominant straight guy and his passive gay lover.

Now, though, the straight guy wasn’t so straight, so should he also necessarily be the dominant one all the time? Sure, I loved pounding Craig, but getting drilled by Louis had felt incredible too. Something I’d definitely be open to trying again, though with a different partner this time around.

His touch against the swell of my dick snapped my attention back to the moment,

and I looked down—while teasing the tip of my forefinger in and out of him—to watch as Craig yanked open my jeans. I’d not worn underwear today, going commando in the rush to make class on time this morning, so my cock lurched free as soon as it could, already glistening with my excitement.

Craig pushed me back until the backs of my knees met the edge of the bed, and I

toppled backward so that he could pull my jeans off altogether. Then, lifting my feet and pushing my legs back with his hands on the underside of my thighs, he knelt down between them and dipped his head to my ass.

It was a good thing Craig’s mom wasn’t home as the noises I was making as he

lapped at, sucked, tongue fucked, and generally assaulted my hole would’ve made her come running. Initially he alternated between long, languid strokes up the crack of my ass, scrubbing the flat of his tongue across my most sensitive parts and then up to nuzzle beneath my balls, and digging into the opening itself, forcing the stiffened tip of his tongue in through my spasming tightness.

Before long, though, he had a finger playing with the soft skin around it, tugging at it, trailing across until I was bucking and twisting in the hope that he’d just finger me already. Craig shed his jeans and his shirt and straddled me, hardly contained in the red cotton of his briefs just inches from my face.

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As he leaned down, hooked his arms under my thighs, and went back to work

feasting on my hole, I reached up and pulled his dick free. It filled my hand, a thread of precum oozing out and landing on my neck and chin. He slipped the first finger in me as I guided his cock into my mouth, the both of us groaning as the pleasure notched higher.

I could tell he was trying to hold back somewhat, not get carried away and force

his entire length down my throat. I grabbed his ass and pulled him against me, feeling the tension in his hips first before giving way as he sank into my gullet. The slight curve of him filled my throat beautifully, his tightening balls resting against my nose and dizzying my head with his musky scent.

I knew then what I wanted, what I was so eager for. The memory of the dream—

imaginary, of course, but still indelibly inked into my brain as if it had happened, as if Craig and Louis really had spit roasted me as punishment for being a man-slut—had

me twitching in anticipation.

I grabbed his shaft and pulled my head to the side, letting his cock nuzzle my lips as I spoke.

“I want you to fuck me,” I groaned, running my fist down his slippery length. He

looked up and stared at me across the length of our naked bodies.

“Look, Kyle, you don’t have to… I mean, just because, because you…”

I shook my head, ran my tongue around the swollen flare. “I want it, Craig. I want you inside me.”

He gazed at me a little longer as if trying to read for guilt or something else in my expression. All he could see was lust in my eyes, though—that was certainly all I was feeling. I let his cock pop out of my mouth, ran it down the side of my cheek.

“What do you say, Craig? You interested splitting me open with this thing?”

He grinned at that, raised an eyebrow, and I felt another finger being added to my eager hole. I couldn’t figure out whether it was two or three now, only that the warm, tingling sensations radiating out were rapidly becoming addictive. I may only have 120
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been fucked once, but I knew that with Craig in the right place I could feel a hundred times better than I was feeling now.

Craig climbed off, fingers still hooked in me, and looked down at my body. Legs

splayed, arms up above my head, lips puffy from where I’d been working him over, I knew I must look superslutty, but I didn’t care. He ran his hand down my chest, across my stomach, and I clenched my abs so that his fingertips bumped against the ridges.

That made my butt clamp down too, and he pushed his hand against me, making sure

it was buried as far as it would go.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulled at him a couple of times with my

heels. He rolled his eyes, grinned.

“Jeez, Kyle, when did you become such a slut?”

I shrugged. “More importantly, how many times am I gonna have to ask before

you stick that thing in me?” I complained, punctuating it with a couple more jerks against him with my calves.

He nodded, looking somewhat serious, then reached to the nightstand where I

knew he kept his lube. He trickled a long flow of it down my ass, the wetness oozing around where his fingers were still lodged in me. With gentle movements he began to slide it in, his other hand dropping the bottle—after putting a generous amount across his cock—and then taking hold of himself, getting himself slicked up.

My own dick was rock hard just watching Craig get ready to fuck me. There was a

look of concentration on his face as he played his lubed fingers around my loosened opening. Hypnotized, almost.

“Dude, seriously,” I told him, getting impatient. “Come on.”

He rolled his eyes again but pulled his hand free all the same, giving his shaft a few final, languid strokes. I felt the blunt head of it nudge against me, slipping in our wetness until he pushed forward with his hips, my ass making one last, feeble—and

unwanted—attempt to resist.

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Then he was in me, just the head at first, and the air was gusting from my lungs as I came to grips with the still-foreign sensation. He was leaning forward now, easing more and more inside as my heels pulled him on. Eventually his narrow hips were

sandwiched between my thighs, the fullness of him buried deep.

I wrapped my arms around his chest, gasped into his shoulder. He was different

from Louis, not as thick and a little shorter, but I was inexperienced enough that it still felt vast. I tried to hold him still for a moment, just to get used to it all, but with every twitch we made, he shifted and jolted in my tightness, and with each of those jolts we groaned and flinched and moved some more.

Craig pulled his head up, looked at me. His pupils were huge, that endearing

scrape of red flush across his cheekbones in stark contrast to his milk-white skin.

“I don’t…” he started, paused. Squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before

looking at me again. “I don’t know how long I can wait. God, Kyle, I’ve dreamed about this for so long; it’s too much.”

I ran my fingers across his lips, let him suck the tip of one into his mouth.

“You got me so worked up. I’m right behind you.” I flexed my dick, sandwiched

between our bodies. “And this isn’t a onetime thing, Craig. I’m your boyfriend,

remember.”

He smiled at that, looked somehow coy and shy in a way that made me want him

all the more. I pulled his head down so that our lips could come together, pausing only to tell him, “Now, fuck my straight ass.”

He chuckled in his throat, pulled his hips back—I gasped as his cock dragged out

of me, feeling like it was pulling me inside-out in the process—and then ground his cock back inside, sending shards of pleasure up my spine. Another long stroke and I was whimpering into his mouth, wordless noises that took the tug of my feet against his butt to decipher.