Page 47 of Stupid Dirty

Silas is wearing threadbare gray sweatpants that are fucking obscene. I mean it. They hug every curve of his muscled legs, and you can see a very detailed outline of his junk. Which is why I can see that he’s having the exact same problem as me and is probably also not giving the game his full attention.

My foot is sitting in his lap, only inches away from his erection, and I don’t know what to do.

As usual, I’m going with the flow. My flow is currently horny as hell, which is what I blame for my next decision.

“You got a problem there, stud?” I nudge his hard-on with my foot as I say it, and he hisses at the contact before bringing one hand protectively to his dick.

He looks over at me. I was hoping we could joke about this, but when I take in his face, he looks raw and vulnerable. It sobers me up, quick.

“Sorry, I’m not trying to be weird,” he says. “I don’t know why this keeps happening. I’m just fucking horny all the time. I feel like a fucking teenager.”

He drops the controller and runs the hand that’s not covering his erection through his hair, blowing out a frustrated breath. It sets off every single protective instinct I have, even if all I am protecting him from is being harsh with himself.

“Hey,” I say softly, jostling his thigh with my foot. “It’s fine. We said it’s fine. We’re stuck in each other’s space right now, but we’re making it work, right? You’re here because you came to my fucking rescue. You can have as many awkward boners as you want.”

I only get a half-smile to that, but he sits up straighter, and he seems to lighten.

Tugging my lip in between my teeth to chew at it for a second, I consider my options here.

“Hey, it’s not like I’m not right there with you.” I gesture towards my own embarrassing pants situation, and when Silas looks down at it, he blushes so red I can practically feel the heat from over here. I rub myself through my pants, just a little, because this conversation is doing nothing to cool me down. Fuck it. “There’s no one home. It’s a boner, not a vampire. It’s not like there’s a rule that you can only jerk it at night. You do you, man.”

I lick my palm before slipping my hand into my waistband. Once I give myself a real, tight stroke, it feels so good I can’t not lean my head back against the couch and sigh.

Silas’ fingers dig in where his left hand still rests on my leg. The cuff of my sweats has rucked up, so his skin is on mine, and warmth is sinking into me everywhere he’s touching.

“Should one of us….?” I catch his eye, and I can see the hesitance. If there’s no one here, there’s no reason for us to do this in the same room. But I’m stroking myself for real now, and his hand is warm on my leg, and I don’t want either of us to move.

“Nah,” I say. He licks his lips, and his mouth hangs slightly open as his breathing picks up. I don’t think he’s ever actually watched me during this before, and I don’t hate it. I feel lust-drunk and pesky things like consequences are getting less important by the second. I throw my head back again, stretchingout my body and finally pulling my cock out into the open air. “What’s the point of having boundaries now?”

When I look at Silas again, his eyes are fixed on my cock. I wonder what he’s thinking about, and if I just crossed some horrible line that I can never uncross and will ruin our friendship forever.

We will definitely have to have a conversation about what this means.

Later.

“You too, Silas.”

Jogging him out of his stupor, he tears his gaze away from watching me work myself over and starts pushing at those damn sweats until his own cock is free.

I look. I fully look at it. It’s as big as it looked through the sweats, straight and cut, thick enough that I wonder how heavy it feels in his hand. The tip is flushed the same bright pink his cheeks are when he’s embarrassed, and there’s already precum drooling from him, making his skin glisten in the light.

I’ve never thought a dick could look pretty, before. Never thought about dicks that much in general. But if there’s such a thing as a pretty cock, Silas has got one. I’m kind of jealous.

It doesn’t take long before the room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and slick skin. I have to close my eyes, because I look over and Silas is rolling his cockhead in his palm in a way that’s mesmerizing me, and I don’t have the capacity to figure out what that means right now. So I close my eyes, and focus on the feeling of my own hand strangling my dick, and the way Silas still has a chokehold on my leg. Like he’s clinging to it.

“God, this feels good. Fuck, Silas. Fuck, I’m gonna come.” I can’t help but babble as I feel my orgasm brewing. I want him to come with me. The only thing that would be more awkward than this situation is figuring out where to put my eyeballs if he’s still jerking off after I’ve finished. “Are you almost there?”

I crack open my eyes to see Silas looking completely debauched. His cheeks are flushed and his mouth is hanging open, his bottom lip swollen like he’s been biting it. He looks at me with dark, lust-drunk eyes and nods.

It takes all my self-control to close my eyes again so I can’t see either of us come. But I hear the sinful way he groans, and I know I’m making some obscene noises myself as my cock throbs and cum spills over my hand. My toes curl as Silas digs his fingers even harder into my leg while he groans.

I couldn’t look. Because I couldn’t explain why I wanted to look, and I still want to put that conversation off until I know what the hell I’m going to say.

We both float around in a kind of daze that night, blissed out from mutually phenomenal orgasms. Before bed, I ask Silas if he wants to smoke a little weed. I’m not a huge fan of getting high, because I don’t enjoy feeling that out of control and I also don’t enjoy looking into the mirror and seeing either of my parents.

But sometimes the anxiety hits, and there’s nothing else that’ll tackle it for me. Just a little to take the edge off and help us sleep, I tell him. Silas looks dubious, but tells me he trusts me. I think he still takes pleasure in these minor rebellions against his dad, even when his dad will never know. For me, I just need to turn my damn brain off. That’s why I keep a little stashed around for emergencies.

Neither of us speaks much as we smoke. Silas coughs and sputters a little, but otherwise seems okay. Both of us get hazy and slow. It doesn’t take much to get us ready to pour into bed, too tired to jerk off again. All we do is pull off our clothes and climb onto the mattress, both asleep as soon as our heads hit the pillow.

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