Once a Nerd Ch. 11 - Sex Stories

Once a Nerd Ch. 11

... shallow divot centering his back. Thatfucking, chokeable waist, ass bubbled out like—

"Honestly, I don't know how you have the energy." Sam's dry crack shakes me, as he's turned around and gets an eyeful of my raging hard-on.

"Look who's talking." I shoot back, as he's pitching his own conspicuous tentpole.

He scoffs weakly in lieu of a defense, ambling towards the shower. Before he can climb in, I slap theshit out of left cheek. He jumps violently, hissing a curse through his teeth. "Jesus fucking Christ, Dean! You'reheavy-handed, asshole!"

In repentance, I stroke soothing circles into the blushed skin. There's an honest-to-God handprint. "I'll pretend you didn'tlove that."

He doesn't say anything, because he does love it. He gets off on a little roughing up. If I reached around for his cock, ten bucks says it'd be dripping. But, remember, we'reholding back. Get it the fuck together. Once inside the stall, I work hard to realign my priorities. Unless Sam says something to the effect of 'please feed me your cock, Dean!', this is strictly bathing and skinship. I can manage that. Probably. Maybe.Fuck. Our bodies aren't pressed together, but Sam's back is about six inches from my chest. I act like a wall to keep the water from getting to him, as his head is tipped for me to massage his hair into a frothy lather. His eyes are firmly closed, mouth dropped around pleased, little sighs.

God really does give his toughest battles to his strongest warriors, because ...

... I'm fightingdemons right now.

I work the shampoo into his neck and shoulders, before we swap places so he can rinse. Just as I'm about to start on my own head, he stops me: "Hey, wait. Let me do it."

Sam's washed my hair before, but the height difference presents a challenge. Last time he did it, before we left Illinois, I joked about getting a step-stool for the shower. He hasn't done it since. "You want to?"

"Yeah, just—switch with me and hang your head back as much as you can. I dare you to get smart about it."

Toughest goddamn battles.

Extending my neck backwards as far as the joints will allow for, I suppress a shudder as Sam's fingertips dig firmly into my scalp. He scrubs little circles across my head until it's sufficiently foamed, and unlike our lack of contact before, his chest glides against my back. He's mimicking my ministrations, applying pressure to my neck, shoulders, and back with his thumbs, knuckles, and the meat of his palm. The soap makes it frictionless. I drop my head into the spray, eyes closed against a sudsy waterboarding. This might be Sam's version of a tentative greenlight, as it's rare for him to vocalize his desires, but it's tough to tell.

"Aren't you sore?" He murmurs against the middle of my spine, hands slipping around my ribs.

I nearly snap a tooth with how hard I'm clenching. Choking on it: "Little bit."

Long story fucking short, I keep it together for a few minutes more. My cockhurts, and the heat of the shower in ...