Weak in the Knees Ch. 04 - Sex Stories

Weak in the Knees Ch. 04

... his lap so he could sit up enough to kiss him fiercely, sharing Diego's own taste with him as their tongues danced together.

Diego moaned into Zach's lips when he tasted himself on his lover's breath, finding it erotic enough to make his cock twitch even as it deflated. In this position, Diego could feel Zach's hard cock pressing against his ass through his dark wash jeans. He pulled away from the kiss to catch his breath and commented, "You're going to break that poor critter if you don't let it out of that denim prison soon."

Zach shifted forward and flipped their positions, putting him on top of Diego, letting him feel Zach's weight for a moment before he pushed back to a kneeling position. Zach took his belt off and then unzipped his jeans. He stripped them off, along with his boxers, and threw them at the hamper.

Zach kept his pubic hair cut very short, though Diego could still see the red color of it around his cock, which was standing proud and gleaming with precum. He was a little over seven inches with a decent girth, with balls that were average in size and look. Those were also mostly hairless, but he had a fair amount of hair on his chest and down his stomach towards his crotch to make up for it.

Zach ran his hand along Diego's leg, slowing down a little when he came upon some of the scars marking his side and leg. His fingers could feel the divots of what must have been metal slicing through the skin that now was just faint scar tissue. Diego laid ...

... still, trying not to flinch away, though Zach could see that was exactly what he initially wanted to do.

"Sorry," Diego said embarrassedly, "force of habit. Most people recoil from them, so I tend to as well."

Zach shook his head at that, slowing down his hand's movements so he had stalled over the scars. "Most people are stupid then. There's nothing to recoil from. They aren't bad or ugly or scary. They are just a little bit of your story written on your skin, much like my brother's scars are. They are proof you went through hell and survived. You lived, and they're beautiful for that reason. Because you're still here."

"For a few years I wasn't," Diego reminisced, shivering. "After I came back from the tour that retired me, I got lost in the system trying to get seen by the VA and denying that I needed psychiatric care."

"So what happened?" Zach asked gently.

"When?" Diego asked confusedly.

Zach considered that. He had meant what had happened to get him to seek the care he finally needed, but he could see how Diego could wonder if he meant about the wound. "I assume the wound was from a bomb or something similar, so I meant what happened with getting that care? You're far more level-headed than I am, so I assume you got the help you needed."

"Eventually, yeah," Diego admitted. "I found a private counselor who would see me on a sliding scale based on my income. He was super helpful for a few years and then he changed practices."

"I'm glad you survived ...