Page 51 of Strange Lad

“Mhm,” I switch to his ring finger, “I do.”

“It was amazing. Seriously, I wish I would’ve discovered my ass sooner in life. Would’ve made up for all the pitiful jerk off sessions.” I chuckle, shaking my head. “What about you? What do…you like?”

I debate telling him.

Before…everything, I’d always envisioned being the dominant partner. I liked the idea of taking care of someone. I liked the idea of bringing pleasure. Later, when I found myself in situations with women, I sought out submissive partners. It’d seemed like the safer option, but deep down, I guess I’ve always known I’d prefer that. To be in control. And because I’ve never been with a man in a way I could enjoy, I’ve only had vague ideas of what I’d want. Ultimately, I like the person, not the parts, but I do appreciate parts. I appreciate Jorge’s.

Which leads me to my answer. “Well, I know I’m not a bottom.”

“Ohthankgod,” he wheezes, then laughs. “I mean. Not that I’m opposed to experimenting. I’d definitely do you, but—”

“Jorge,” I interrupt him because I see his mind going into overdrive. He glances at me, those fluffy curls bobbing as he does. “I’m not ready for that. Nowhere close.”

“I know. I know. I’m not saying I’m going to just present my ass to you this second.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “This is wild.”

“What?”

“Us. This. That I’m even talking about it and not panicking.”

He nods, understanding. “It’s because I’m the best.” His smile is so bright and contagious, but his words are true.

“Yes, you are, kitten. You are.”

I’m alone at my studio, shoving salt-free pretzels in the boys’ cage because I got home later than expected. After the intense touch session Jorge and I had, we agreed to take a break. We watched a movie, and then I left. He practically begged me tospend the night, but I needed time to process everything. Had I spent the night, I might’ve pushed my limits. I can’t have him see me crack like I have in the past. Not yet. It’s clear that we both want each other, and I want to keep it that way.

The strides I made today are insane. Unbelievable. But I did it. We were…fuck…intimate.More so than I’ve ever been withanyone.The love I have for him keeps growing and changing. It’s interwoven into my very being at this point. I take a quick shower, feeling him all around me even though he’s gone. His long fingers on my waist, on my chest, in my hair. I’m practically vibrating under the shower spray.

His weight on my lap was perfect. If I ignore that freakout, I can savor those few seconds we were close. I want to be that close again. Fuck, I want to kiss him and feel him. To learn every inch of his body, map out the contours of his little muscles, and savor the feel of his skin. I slide my hand down my stomach, my abs slick with soap.

My hand curls around my cock, hard and weeping.

It’s been a while since I jacked off, but usually it’s mechanical. Something done out of necessity so my balls don’t hurt.

Right now, I’m imagining Jorge discovering his prostate for the first time while I slide my fist up and down. I picture him rutting onto his fingers, his little cock bobbing and leaking. I can see his curls fanned around him like a crown, his cheeks dark from exertion, and his gorgeous mouth parted in ecstasy.

I want to see it. Fuck I want to tell him what to do, how to do it, and when. Have him show me how much of a bottom he is. Want him to—

“Shit,” I gasp, feeling my cock jerk in my hand, cum spilling on the shower floor.

I rest my head against the tile wall, milking the rest out of my slit, wanting nothing more than those visions to be reality. I see Dr. Langley tomorrow, so maybe he’ll offer me some advice onhow to do it. How tobewith Jorge in any capacity. Hell, I’d be content just to watch. With a sigh, I clean myself up and leave the shower.

I barely have the towel around my hips when I hear a loud, sharp knock on my front door.

Frowning, I hurry and throw on some shorts. Only two people know where I live. Jorge and Nyx. My parents know I livesomewherebut don’t have the address. I don’t imagine Nyx would just show up without calling or texting. Jorge would. He’s done it plenty. A smile breaks over my face as I hurry to the door, unlock it, and pull it open. I don’t even care that I don’t have a shirt on. My heart flutters wildly because he needs me enough to come over despite us being apart for about an hour. He—

“Hi.”

Phoenix is at my door.

Phoenix isat my door.

My older brother stands awkwardly, his long hair hanging down his shoulders and the giant plugs in his ears jiggling as he leans to peer inside my apartment. And just like that, all my happiness siphons right out of me down an invisible drain at my feet.

“Look,” he starts, raking a hand through his hair. “I know you don’t want to talk to me. I know you don’t want to see me. But I just wanted to tell you—in person—that I’m so fucking proud of you, Oli.”

My eyes burn, and my throat seizes and collapses on itself.

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