Page 32 of Pretty Obsessed

“Yes.”

“How?” I asked.

“You throbbed and fucked me harder and—”

“Don’t stop there.” I demanded.

“I can feel you slick between my cheeks, too.”

My cock throbbed. “You came without me touching you so yes, I had no choice but to come and then that made me hard again.”

“Oh.” His eyes lit up ecstatic. “Yes, I guess I didn’t think about it. I’ve only done it by myself before. You know how to use your cock.”

“I wasn’t using it, you were. And now I’m imagining you riding a dildo like you do my cock.”

“I guess I was.” The blush was back on his cheeks. He buried his face in my neck.

“Don’t hide.” I tugged at his hair, coaxing him back up.

He squirmed against me but lifted his head. There was no chance my hard-on was going down tonight.

“And now I’m thinking about you using a dildo on yourself, still filled with my release. I don’t think I’ll be soft ever again.”

He beamed and I wanted a picture of him, hair damp and swept across his forehead, euphoria in his eyes, and red. Lovely, lovely boy.

“If you give me a few and some water I can help you out with that again.”

“Let’s shower and order some food. I want to make sure you keep your strength up.”

He laughed and agreed, climbing off. I was sad for the loss and only tolerating it because I knew I’d be inside him again soon.

* * *

I was towel drying myself off when there was a knock at the door. I pulled on some boxers and answered it. It was either one of my bandmates, or the food. The only people allowed on the floor. Iris stood in the doorway, in a robe clutching a pillow.

I laughed and stepped aside. “Come in.”

“Is he still here? If he is, I’ll go.” He hesitated at the threshold.

I grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him inside. “We ordered food. I don’t think Emory will mind if you eat with us.”

He screwed up his face. “I’ll go. I’m beat.”

“Do you really think I’m going to believe you’ll sleep? When was the last time you ate? You look dastardly.”

“Harsh, bro. Who even says dastardly?”

“I do.” I dragged him further into the room. “Take a load off. I’ll warn Emory, so you don’t get a glimpse of his balls.”

Iris waved me off. “I’ve seen worse.”

I pulled some shorts on and asked Emory if he minded. He didn’t and the food showed up moments later. Perfect timing. We opened boxes of Chinese and passed them around. Emory used chopsticks like a wizard.

I poked him with one of mine. “You’re pretty good at that.”

“I love Asian food.” He poked me back then stole a dumpling off of my plate.

“We’ll be in Asia next,” Iris said, pushing stuff around his plate. I didn’t like that he wasn’t eating.

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