Matt and Jason Ch. 05 - Sex Stories

Matt and Jason Ch. 05

... his beard. I'd never... you know, played with a guy's beard before. The way my stubble fascinated him. That feeling of his hand as he ran his fingers across my jaw, almost in wonderment. The friction when we were together. Friction. The way....

...the way his cockhead pushed through me, lighting me up from the inside. His cock when....

Shit. Okay... so maybe I was thinking about his dick, too.

Fuck, here I was at work, barely working, just pacing around like a tiger in a cage. When I did sit down, my leg involuntarily started bouncing wildly, making the desk vibrate. Thinking about him was torture. But not thinking about him wasn't an option.

At least I wasn't writing notes to him, like I was some goddamn school kid. At least I hadn't stooped that low.

Oh shit... speaking of that, I should text him and confirm I can still stop by after work and pick up my clothes. And, you know, see how his day's going, and....

Wait. Fuck. FUCK!

Christ on a cross. It was like puberty all over again. Like the first time I saw my Middle School teacher Miss Sommers and realized she wasn't wearing a bra. What really blew my mind is that even having experienced it before, I was responding in exactly the same way as before. Mybody was responding in exactly the same way. Even if it was a guy this time, and not Miss Sommers. Shit. I was too old, too cool, too experienced for a crush. Or was this just like a phase? Was this something I was going to go through again and again? ...

... Like, was I going to have my world rocked like every 10 years or so, out of the blue?

Or was...

...was Matt something... special?

Shit. What was going on with Matt? Were we just fucking around, excited about the newness of the whole thing? Excited about how it was all taboo and all?

I shook off the question, I mean... Jesus, we were way, way, WAY too early in the game to think about that. What good could possibly come from trying to label us? Label what we were doing. I mean... get a grip, Jason. Quit overthinking. What's wrong with you? You never used to spiral like this. Jesus. Just enjoy the ride.

Riding him.

Shit.

I leaned back and let myself remember... remember the feeling as Matt and I collided. The fucking feel of us. Our eyes locked. His hairy...

A co-worker came in, and I slammed my body back to attention. He looked at me. "What the fuck, Jason? You've either been running around with your hair on fire or drifting off into la-la land. You fucking score last night or what?"

The blunt directness of the question blew past all my defenses. I could do nothing but blush ruby red.

Which only made the remainder of the day even more nightmarish. The guys were all over me, trying to suss out the gory details. Imagining what, um, "she" looked like. What "she" was like. Juicing up their own dull sex lives by living through mine.

Jesus.Men, sometimes. I tell you....

I gave just enough details to keep them happy--enough that the goddamn fuckers were ...