Page 51 of Shift Change

He was panting by then. “Say more. Talk dirty to me.”

My hand moved faster on my dick. “I want to see your cum all over that rugged chest. I want to lick it up and make you taste it on my tongue. You like that?”

He moaned and switched back to his regular grip. “Fuck yeah.”

“You gonna come first?” I asked between pants. “Fall apart for me while I watch?”

He stroked faster, keeping his eyes focused on my cock. “I’m so close already.”

I leaned toward him and whispered, “Think about last night, about having me under you. Remember how amazing it was rubbing our cocks together? You were so fucking hard, I’d have come even if I hadn’t been moving. I liked it, seeing you come apart, feeling like I was about to blow every time you thrust against me. Did you like how I screamed your name when I came the second time? Shit, we both shot so much we found cum on your neck and didn’t even know who it belonged to.”

“Shit, Chuck?—”

“I like the way you smell this morning. Sex and sweat. You stink like you just had a hard game.”

“You love it?”

“Fuck yeah. Totally doing it for me. Have you ever jerked off at the barn? Maybe in the shower when no one else was around?”

“Mm. In college.”

“Fuck.” My hand was flying up and down my cock. “What’d you think about?”

“How I might’ve liked…” He glanced at my eyes, then looked back at me jerking off. “Maybe somebody watching me.”

“I’mwatching you now, loving how you play with your big dick. It’s so thick, and I like the way you squeeze tighter when you’re near the top. Love the sounds you make. Want me to sneak and watch you when we get back home?”

“JesusChrist!” His head lolled back as his strokes became erratic. “I’m gonna—fuck—I’m?—”

He came hard, hips jerking as he shot thick white ropes across his stomach and chest. His mouth fell open, and he moaned my name like it was a fucking prayer.

Watching him come like that—hearing the way he said my name—was too much. My orgasm tore through me, so powerful I thought it might rip me apart. I shouted his name while I shot heavy streams of cum across my belly.

We slumped sideways against each other, moaning softly while our chests heaved. For a while, we were still, sitting there in our mess—slick, sticky, and completely wrecked.

Eventually, Nate groaned. “Fuck. That was…”

“Yeah. Holy shit.”

He cupped my face and pulled me into a kiss. We were too breathless to make it last long, and when we broke for air, he asked, “How are you doing?”

I laughed weakly. “Can’t feel my legs.”

“You don’t need them. I’ll just lick you until you beg for more.”

16

holky

We lostin Denver but pulled out wins in Dallas and St. Louis. By the time we made it back to Buffalo late Sunday night, Chuck and I were running on fumes. We barely managed to drag our bags inside before collapsing into bed and snuggling under the covers, too tired to do more than pass out in a pile of limbs.

Criswell had canceled Monday’s practice, so we slept in—deep, dreamless sleep that felt more like a coma than rest. During the trip, we’d snuck around like a couple of high schoolers, sharing a bed more nights than not. Sometimes I held him, and other times, he held me. It didn’t matter who did what, only that we were together. I slept better next to Chuck, and he said it was the same for him. One thing was sure—I’d never been happier than when I woke up beside him.

This morning, I drifted awake, my face buried in his armpit with his arm slung heavy across my waist. His soft snores made me smile, and the heat radiating off him was enough to warm the whole bed. I stayed there, soaking it in and letting myself believe this was real—him, here, us. Like maybe we were a couple. Like maybe this was something we could keep.

But it didn’t take long for reality to creep in, sharp and cold. We were both straight. That hadn’t changed. Women would come back into our lives, and whatever this was—whatever we were—might not survive the return to normal.

God, I don’t want normal. Not anymore.

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