Page 44 of Run, Run, Roommates
He enters me slowly until he’s bottomed out and then pushes me down to lie flat. His hands grip my ass, spreading my cheeks slightly. Oh god, what can he see?
“Fuck that’s hot. Look at you taking me so well.”
My butt checks clench in his hand as my body tightens at the compliment. He chuckles and then lies down over me.
It’s more intimate than I was expecting for a position from behind. Marco holds himself over me so he doesn’t smother me, and that gives him room to pepper me with kisses anywhere he can reach. His strokes are smooth and steady, and on my stomach like this I can clench my muscles. My orgasm builds, deeper this time, and soon he’s grunting in my ear, his hips steadily rocking us both to the peak.
I cry out, clenching around him, and Marco follows with a deep thrust and a guttural groan.
We lie in silence, catching our breaths. When Marco finally rolls off, I turn my head to look at him.
God he’s gorgeous. His body is coated in a slight sheen of sweat—he did all the work—and I’m eye level with his ribs. I raise my head a little and get an amazing view of his V all the way down to his soft dick.
Marco rubs his face and checks his phone for the time. “Do you think you can come again?”
“Can you?” I mean, Marco’s thirty-two and what they hell do I know, but I didn’t think men could get hard again that fast.
“I have something else in mind. Stay there.”
I obey. I watch him as much as I can though, turning my head while he opens my sock drawer. Even before he pulls out the hot pink dildo, I’m blushing.
He holds it up. “Can I use this on you?”
My arousal comes roaring back.
Marco props my hips up with a pillow this time, and then slowly pushes the toy inside of me. It’s embarrassing at first, how hard he’s staring at it when I glance at him over my shoulder, but then I forget to be embarrassed as he fucks me hard with the toy.
I come screaming.
I’m barely conscious when Marco cleans me up with a warm wet washcloth. He makes me get up to pee, and when I come back, he’s changing the sheets. Marco tucks me in, tells me to take a nap, and the last thing I remember is a kiss on the forehead before I drift off to sleep.
23
Marco
The morning of Christmas Eve, I take the train out to Long Island and I visit my brother’s grave.
Brin’s babysitting today, which is good because we needed a break to hydrate and get some fresh air after our two-day sex bender. I’ve always loved being around Brin—she’s light and funny and kind—and all of these traits blossom in the bedroom. I’ve never felt a connection like this with someone before. And the fact that she was willing to explore was fucking hot as hell.
I grew up in Smithtown, but my brother is buried closer to the city in a Catholic cemetery. Against his wishes.
I don’t visit on the day of his death or on his birthday. Instead I visit on the day my parents kicked him out.
I’m an atheist. I don’t believe in God or an afterlife. But on the off chance that I’m wrong, the only thing I care about is my brother knowing how much I loved him.
When I get to the grave, I’m surprised to find a small wreath on the headstone. I’m even more shocked that there’s a rainbow ribbon woven through it. This is not a queer-friendly community and even though I don’t know this particular church, I would be shocked if they allowed this here.
I spot a tag on the back of the wreath and carefully flip it over. My breath catches in my throat when I read the handwritten note.
Joe-
I saw this and thought of you. I always think of you around the holidays.
Stay merry & bright.
Love, Drew
Drew was my brother’s best friend, the one we lived with for a while. Since Joe’s death, we drifted apart.
