Page 6 of Just A Little Fling

The elevator ding was a distant sound, but the catcalls broke us apart. We turned around and gave the group of ladies, all part of a bridal party, sly grins before we stepped off the elevator.

“Sorry, ladies. He’s all mine tonight.”

When they started chanting “Kiss, kiss” while they waited for the doors to shut,I had no choice but to oblige. I slid my hands to either side of his face and drew him close. Sighing, he rose on his toes and met me halfway. His lips curved into a smile that matched mine. The cheering faded as we stayed rooted to the spot.

“Babbo, stop teasing me ’cause I’m not sure I can wait.”

“We’ve got all night, boy.” It was a wonder he didn’t trip on his lip with his pout when he turned away. I grabbed his hand and led him down the hallway to our rented room. Instinctually, I knew this boy was used to getting his way, even if he was relatively compliant and sweet tonight.

I swiped the key card and let us into the darkened interior. The door was barely shut before I had the man who’d flirted and teased me all night up against it. He immediately melted against me while he snaked his arms around my neck.

“Boy, you want to do this?”

“Fuck yes.” I smacked the side of his ass and reared my head back to look down at him. His low groan said it all. “I meant to say, ‘Yes, Babbo.’”

“Then say that.”

“I want to do this, Babbo.” Thank effing god. Our mouths crashed against each other in a battle for supremacy. When the boy in my arms yielded, I felt like a conquering hero returning from battle. I pulled his arms from around my neck and slid my hands under his jacket to work it off. He tried to help, but it only served to get it stuck on his arms. His frustrated noises shouldn’t have turned me on, but they did. I chuckled softly when he huffed about my lack of assistance. Instead, I unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it aside to reveal a lightly furred chest and the slight round of his belly.

“Babbo, help me get my jacket off.” He pouted.

“I will, Sweet Boy. You need to be patient.”

“I don’t wanna be patient.” His declaration included a stomp of his foot. Silly boy.

“Patience is a virtue,” I whispered before tracing the shell of his ear and nibbling on his lobe. My reward was a slight shiver, so I repeated the motion. The second time, I got a low moan. “Good boys get rewarded.” My mouth moved down the column of his throat. The sweet boy in my arms shuddered while his hands flapped helplessly at his side. “And bad boys are punished.” My tongue traced along his clavicle.

“Babbo, please.”

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

I pushed off his jacket and then his shirt while I mouthed along his throat. His soft whimpers fed my soul. It had been so damn long since I’d been in this position, and now here I was with a beautiful boy who set me on fire. Once his arms were free, I threaded our fingers together. My head dropped until our foreheads touched and our panting breaths fanned across each other.

“It’s a shitty time to mention it, but I hope like hell you have a condom.”

When I’d tagged along with Owen and Barrett tonight, I’d expected to eat snacks in exchange for small talk. Meeting the sexist boy I’d ever seen hadn’t crossed my mind as a possibility.

“I gotchu, Babbo.”

“Good boy.”

The phrase sent him melting into me and his cock grinding against mine. I’d teased myself and him enough. With a tug, I pulled him farther into the hotel room to get to the bed I hoped we’d put to use soon. With quick fingers, I undid his belt while he toed off his shoes and socks. He busied himself undoing my shirt.

“Sweet Boy, get the condom.”

With a nod, he fished it out of his wallet and tossed it on the bed with a small packet of lube. Grinning, I pushed him back until he sat on the edge of the bed while I stood over him between his legs. The urge to unbuckle his belt and finally feel the cock that strained behind the zipper made my fingers twitch. My mouth watered to taste him. “Sweet Boy, you’re killing me.”

“Babbo, I know you’re older than me, but you can’t die until I come because I’m too young to be disappointed for the rest of my life.”

I choked out a strangled laugh. “And me being dead?”

“That would be sad too.”

“I can’t disappoint someone so young and in the prime of their life.”

I dropped to my knees—thank effing god for thick carpet—and worked on his buckle. Sweet Boy, for lack of anything else to call him, had a self-satisfied smirk while he leaned back and watched but made no effort to help me. With a bit of maneuvering, I pushed his pants down to discover a jockstrap with game controllers printed all over it. “Damn, Sweet Boy, what’s this?”

“It makes me feel pretty.” The defensiveness in his voice pissed me off. Everyone got to like whatever the hell they wanted.

---