Page 42 of Off the Rim
"Alright?"
"Yeah. Hands were sweaty, I guess. Thanks for the save."
"No problem," I tell him, trying to act casual. "You going home for Thanksgiving?"
"Yeah," Marcus says. "To my mom and Greg's house. It's not far from here. You?"
"Back to Pinecrest to see my parents. I'm not sure how much I'm looking forward to it."
He nods understandingly. We've been having a lot more conversations about our childhoods, getting to know each other as friends outside of what our families wanted us to know about each other. Neither of us really understands why our parents hate each other so much, but we've shared bits and pieces of what we’ve been told by our parents. I nearly called my parents outright when Marcus told me about the memory of receiving flowers from my family's company, and how his mom had a breakdown over it. We both have a lot of questions, but it's a soresubject in both households, so I doubt we'll ever really know the truth. All I know is that I'm disgusted by my family's behavior, and I feel guilty just being related to them.
"When do you head out?"
"This afternoon. You?"
"Same."
"Alright, well, I'm going to hit the showers. Have a good holiday."
"You too."
Marcus doesn't move from the bench. I can feel his eyes on me all the way to the door. The feeling follows me down the hall, through the locker room, and to the showers.
I barely get the water started and my shorts around my ankles before my dick is in my hand. I stroke myself roughly, not even bothering to lube myself with more than my sweaty palm and pre-cum. The relief is both instantaneous and not enough. I'm in a constant state of arousal whenever Marcus is near me, and I've jerked off more than I did when I was going through puberty. I'm surprised I'm not chaffed. Getting relief anywhere else isn't even a thought in my mind. Anderson tried to get me to let some guy from another frat suck me off at the last party I went to, and I stopped going at all because of it.
I don't want anyone else but him.
The door to the stall pushes open, and I realize I didn't even stop to make sure it was latched all the way, much less lock it.
Marcus steps inside the small space, closing and locking the door behind him. He doesn't say a word, only stares as I standthere like a deer in the headlights with my dick in my hands. He's barefoot and shirtless, but still in his shorts. His cock is so hard, the fabric looks like it's barely holding on. I want that thing to burst out of his shorts so bad.
I open my mouth to speak, to say anything, but no words come. Marcus shakes his head.
"Shhh. Don't speak."
He steps into my space, reaching for the hem of my tank top and pushing it up my torso. Reaching back, I pull it over my head and step out of my shorts and underwear that are still pooled around my ankles. My hand goes right for his waistband, wasting no time diving in to wrap around his hot, thick length.
"Jesus," I hiss, when his hand grips my cock and starts to pump me.
With one hand stroking his cock and the other pulling his shorts down over his round, muscular ass, I bend down and lick his throat the way I imagined. His skin is salty with sweat, and the rumble of the moan that vibrates against my tongue is sweet. I want to pull the flesh between my teeth and bite and suck until I've marked him, but I hold back. Instead, I trail my tongue up the column of his neck and suck his earlobe into my mouth. I moan against the shell of his ear as his hand moves up and down my length in slow, hard tugs that drive me wild.
My mouth hovers over his, tasting his panting breaths. Despite my dick being in his hands and his being in mine, I don't want to presume too much. Kissing him was the wrong move all those weeks ago, and I don't want anything to stop what's happening. I'm selfish enough to want everything he'll give me, but aware enough to stay within his boundaries.
"Can I?" I breathe over his lips.
"I have a better idea," he whispers, then flips me around and pushes me against the wall.
My heart beats frantically, not sure what he's going to do. Not that it matters. I'm pretty sure I'd let him do whatever he wants to me. He has no idea I've never done most of this before. I've let guys go down on me but never went down on them. At Alpha Omega Psi parties, there's always a selection of girls that will drop to their knees with a glance, and there is never a shortage of guys that would meet me in a dark room and do the same. Selfishly, I would always blow my load and leave, pretending like the guy didn't exist until the next time I needed to get off. No one ever complained. Then again, I never stuck around to talk.
No one has ever been back there before, though. And I'm caught between excitement and apprehension.
One hand presses my chest to the wall, while another guides my hips to stick my ass out more. He keeps the hand on my back as he reaches for my shower caddy. Cool, slick liquid drips down my ass crack, and I shiver. Fuck, I'm terrified and so turned on, I'm not sure it's going to take much for me to shoot all over the place at any second.
My ears pick up the sound of liquid sloshing, and then the unmistakable squelch of Marcus stroking himself. I smell lemongrass and know he's using my body wash to jerk off, and the thought makes me squirm.
Marcus' thick, hard, slick cock falls heavily between my ass cheeks, and I clench instinctively. His chest lays across the bottom of my back, and he kisses the back of my shoulder blade.
"Don't worry, Princess. Your pretty hole is safe."
