Page 35 of Saving Mr. Bell

I interlocked my fingers behind my head and gave a deliberate stretch. “I’m exactly where I need to be.”

“You’re a—”

“A menace, I know.”

He straddled my calves, the heat of his bare thighs fiery against my skin. He was as hard as I was, the rigid line of his cock clearly visible through his briefs. My fingers itched to reach out and trace it, to rub my thumb over the tip and see if I could tease out some moisture, but I needed to be patient, to reel him in bit by bit. First came getting his hands on me. Then, I’d play it by ear. I had a plan, but it needed to be a flexible one. And although my endgame was to get that delectable cock inside me, I wouldn’t use that as my only yardstick for success. There were hundreds of things we could do that didn’t include penetration. Hundreds of extremely pleasurable things. Fucking was plan A, but I had plans for Arlo all the way to Z.

“I wasn’t going to say a menace this time.”

“What were you going to say?”

“I was going to say a tease.” Arlo upended the bottle of oil and dripped a thin stream of it onto my chest.

“A tease promises things they have no intention of delivering. I’m happy to deliver. I’m so happy to deliver you could call me the postman.”

Arlo’s lips twitched. “Rudolf Good King Wenceslas The Postman Bell. Got it.”

My response froze on my tongue as he flattened his palms against my chest and massaged the oil in. While he concentrated on moving his hands in circular strokes over my skin, I watched him, drinking in his dilated pupils and flushed cheeks. I lasted a minute before surging up to capture his lips, Arlo not taken so much by surprise that he didn’t kiss me back. We were both panting by the time the kiss ended. “You never wanted a massage, did you?” he asked, his voice husky.

I maneuvered myself into a different position, one that let my thighs fall open, Arlo settling between them and our hard cocks pressing together. “Not really.”

Arlo rested his forehead against mine, his breathing ragged. “I’m so hard.”

“I know. I can feel.”

“I want…”

“Whatever you want, you can have.”

He laughed. “What if I was about to say I wanted you to wear a pig mask and oink?”

I stroked my fingers over his back, tracing the firm musculature. “Darling, if you can find a pig mask in this place, I’ll try it, if that’s what does it for you.”

His eyes were shining with mirth when he lifted his head. “What about a cow one?”

“Moooo.”

“How did I ever think I could resist you?”

I pulled him down for another kiss. “I like the way you just used past tense. Does that mean we can stop pretending this isn’t going to happen? We’re going to be stuck here together for at least a few more days.”Longer, hopefully.“Why shouldn’t we enjoy ourselves?” Arlo’s silence said there was at least one reason, but that he wasn’t prepared to verbalize it. Instead,he lifted my right arm over my head and dropped a kiss in my armpit that tickled enough for me to crease up. I stopped laughing when his fingers trailed down my body to hook in the waistband of my briefs. He tugged gently, dropping a kiss on the bare hipbone he uncovered. My cock throbbed as he did the same with the other side, the tender gesture hotter than it had any right to be.

I held my breath as both hands came into play, the action of pulling my briefs down so slow that I held my breath. We both laughed as my cock popped out like it was a jack-in-the-box. And then there was only Arlo staring at it. Nerves had me breaking the silence. “I’ve had no complaints.”

“Shhh…”

I shushed, lying back against the sofa arm and letting him look his fill. I was fully hard, my cock standing to attention. When his lips finally slid over the tip and his tongue explored its contours, I bucked up. There was nowhere to go, though, Arlo’s powerful hands holding me down while he took me deeper. Which left only one outlet for communicating how good it felt: moans and random words. I indulged in both while he sucked me.

It was impossible not to watch him as he pleasured me, my brain drinking in the hollowing of his cheeks and the hair that fell over his brow. I’d found him handsome when I was seventeen, but now, he was the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen. Definitely the most gorgeous that had ever blown me, and I thanked whatever gods had brought us to this point.

My chest was rising and falling rapidly by the time he released my cock and sat back to stare at me again.Now what?I didn’t ask out loud in case he changed his mind. Instead, I waited, the damp spot on the front of his briefs showing that blowing me had aroused him almost as much as it had me. When he reached past me to delve down the side of the sofa cushion andplucked out the condom and lube, I laughed. “I thought I’d been stealthy.”

“I’m not sure you could be stealthy if you tried.” He toyed with the condom for a few seconds. “Is this really what you want? I can finish you with my mouth. We don’t have to—”

“Do you want me to beg? Please, Arlo. Please fuck me. Blow jobs are nice. More than nice the way you give them. But what I want, what I really want…” I slid my hand over the bulge tenting Arlo’s underwear, cupping it when he didn’t protest and feeling the length of him. “… is you inside me. Fucking me. Rubbing over my prostate. Going deep. Making me see stars.”

Arlo let out a groan and pressed his forehead against mine again. “Stop! You’re going to make me come.”

With words? Interesting.“Better get that condom on, then.”

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