Page 101 of Not That Ridiculous

“Sounds hollow,” he said.

“Really? Sounds like a wall to me.”

He slid his hand further, curled a knuckle, and knocked.

“Okay, that time it sounded hollow,” I said.

“Yeah.”

He continued to knock, inching along. After he’d gone two feet, it sounded normal again.

He stared at the wall in silence and then sidestepped and repeated the move.

“Another hollow section,” he said. “Wonder what all that’s about?” He sidestepped. “Another one.”

“Shelves maybe? Like…? Built-in alcoves?”

He stretched his arms out wide at shoulder height and stepped up against the wall.

My mouth dried out at the sight of him. Big, long arms spread wide. Spectacular muscled back and arse. Being weird about a wall.

I climbed onto the bed and plumped up the pillows, getting settled. If he wanted to prowl naked around my room and plaster himself up against things, I wasn’t going to stop him. I shuffled down a little, got comfortable, and crossed my arms behind my head.

“Hmm,” he was muttering to himself. “I think you’re right. Shelves or alcoves. If it was an exterior wall I’d say it was bricked-up windows. What do you—” he turned to where I’d been standing, then looked around and saw me on the bed.

Just like that, the wall was forgotten.

He strode over, climbed up from the bottom of the mattress and lay down on top of me, all without a word.

I laughed. “Hello.”

“Mhm.” He cupped my chin and kissed me, then flexed his hips into mine.

I grabbed his arse and held him still. “You might be able to go again, but I can’t. Sorry.”

“Not sure I can, actually. Can I play with you, though?”

I blinked.

He bit my lip gently and hunched against me again. “I like touching you, Charlie. I like the feel of you. Like making you squirm about.”

“I like it too,” I said, stroking the back of his neck. “Do you want to stay the night?”

He was nodding before I even finished my sentence.

He ‘played’ with me for about an hour, after I’d made him use the cloth to wipe any traces of paint off his fingers.

My dick made a valiant attempt to recover, as did his, but there were no more orgasms. Instead he ran his hands—and his lips—over my shaking body, making rough sounds of pleasure and approval. He licked and bit and kissed. By the time he was done, I didn’t think there was a single spot on me he hadn’t claimed.

With my lack of a social life and early morning starts, even though it was still embarrassingly early, I was past my bedtime and beginning to flag. Kevin rolled me out of bed and shuffled me down the landing.

“Uh,” I said as the bathroom approached. “Why don’t I use the bathroom up here and you can use the one downstairs?”

Kevin walked me right past the bathroom and started down the stairs. “I’ve got a better idea,” he said. “Let’s both use the one downstairs. We can shower together.”

It was a great idea, and if I’d been any less tired, I’d have appreciated Kevin’s naked, wet body a heck of a lot more. Actually, that wasn’t true. I couldn’t possibly appreciate it more. He was a beautiful work of art. I just would have done something about it, rather than admired him unabashedly.

He enjoyed the admiration and kissed me silly for it, but while I could have been talked into a longer shower, we kept it quick and efficient.

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