Bankers' Hours (19 page)

Tristan slapped the bed and twisted the sheet in his fist. “Grant, baby… oh, fuck yes!” Tristan rasped as he laid his hand on my head. I lowered my mouth until his dick hit the back of my throat.

I choked and pulled off right away, causing him to whimper. I had to make sure I wasn’t going to puke before I went down again, but I was fine. No bile. I opened wide and slipped my lips around his oozing head, holding his cock erect at the base. I licked and bobbed but didn’t go down as far as the first time. I didn’t want to gag again.

I was really getting into it, and I enjoyed his little grunts and gasps and how he fingered my hair. I stroked his inner thigh with my free hand as well as fondling his balls. I loved the feel of his silky smooth shaft against my lips and even the ache in my jaw as I stretched my mouth wide enough to take him in. I could feel his vein with my tongue as I licked him, and I tasted the drops of precome that seeped from his slit.

He groaned and held the back of my head but didn’t force me to swallow him deeper. For him I tried one more time, but I came up for air before I gagged. I knew with practice I’d be able to suck on more of him at once, but for now the first few inches would have to do. His cockhead was too wide for my inexperienced throat.

“Use your hand,” he suggested.

I released his heavy rod from my mouth and used my hand, sliding it up and down with my saliva as lube. I could tell it was drying up too quickly, so I spit on him. It seemed so undignified. If he liked me sucking and pumping my fist at the same time, I’d have to find flavored lube or something. Making him chafe would be horrible. It was still too dry, and I was the one rubbing, so I lowered my mouth over him and timed my fist pumps with the bobbing of my head. After a few up and down motions and lots of saliva all over my hand and his dick, Tristan gripped my hair and started panting.

“Grant… oh… I’m gonna… Grant…,” he hissed between clenched teeth.

I knew what was about to happen. Hearing him moan for it turned me on. I reached inside my boxers and jerked. I needed to come too. I thought I’d be brave enough to swallow his load, but I chickened out at the last second. I was afraid I’d gag. I kept pumping my hand as he erupted, wave after wave of sticky ropes. Seeing him shoot prompted me, and I emptied in my underwear. At least my seed was contained. Tristan’s splooge got all over his chest and my hand, down his balls, and even a splotch on my cheek.

“Damn!” I marveled. “I didn’t know there was that much in there.”

He laughed and leaned forward to kiss me. “It’s been pent up.” He winked and wiped the gunk off my cheek. “Did you come?” he asked, noticing my hand inside my waistband.

I nodded.

That pleased him. “Nice. Then I guess we
both
need to get cleaned up.” Tristan cupped his junk and slid off the side of the bed. I think he was trying to keep his semen from getting on my sheets, but there were still a few obvious spots. His cock seriously
had
exploded like a volcano.

I scrambled off, keeping my hand in my boxers with all the mess. I met him in the bathroom, where he turned on the shower and hopped in. He explained, “It’s easier. That shit’s all over me.”

I shrugged. “Feel free.” When he closed the curtain, I inspected my face. I needed to wash it even if I didn’t see any of Tristan’s evidence. Actually, I needed to wash all of me just like Tristan was doing, but I didn’t want to undress in front of him. I wanted his fantasy of a pretty guy to last a little longer. My body wasn’t pretty. It was undefined and pale as a sheet, with a little pudge from eating too many cupcakes last year. I still hadn’t lost the weight I’d gained.

“Are you getting in?” Tristan asked, poking his head out.

I shook my head nervously.

That damn eye of his twitched. His face disappeared, and seconds later he turned the water off. He grabbed a towel off the rack and dried behind the curtain. When he pushed it back and stepped out, he had the towel securely wrapped around his waist. He came up to me and gently traced my jaw. “Are you okay?”

I nodded.

“Are you afraid to let me see you naked?”

I hated how transparent I was to him. I looked down.

Tristan brought my chin back up. “You don’t have anything to worry about, Grant.”

I stepped back and scoffed. “Yes, I do. Look at you!” I gestured at his gorgeous body, tanned and dripping wet like a surfer model on the cover of
Men’s Health
. All he needed was a surfboard under his arm and a palm tree in the background. “You’re perfect. And then there’s me,” I stated, sweeping my hand down my length. “Your exact opposite.”

“Grant, I don’t care what you look like.”

I cried out and covered my mouth, shrinking back toward the door.

Tristan reached out and clarified. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it. I think you’re beautiful, Grant. How many times have I told you?”

“You haven’t seen me naked.”

“Then enlighten me. What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m hideous!”

“Why? Do you have a reconstructed chest?” he asked, probably making fun of me even though he sounded sincere.

“No.” I rolled my eyes.

“A third eye where your nipple should be?”

I almost laughed but held it in. “No.”

“A donkey’s ass tattooed around your belly button?”

I snorted but recovered quickly. This was serious. “No. I just don’t look like you.” I turned and bolted from the bathroom. The quarters were too close to argue about something he obviously didn’t get.

Tristan followed me, still wrapped in the towel. “Why do you think you have to look like me?”

I whipped around to face him and huffed, “Because I do!” I knew that wasn’t a reason, but it was the one that came out first.

He stared at me, slowly licked his lips, and then nodded ever so slightly. “Okay. Then prove it.”

I froze. “Prove what?”

“Take off your shirt and show me how hideous you are, and I’ll never ask you to do it again.” His challenge was firm.

I swallowed hard. “No.”

He took a step closer. “Take it off.” His intent stare unnerved me.

I stepped back, but my legs hit the bed. “No.”

Tristan was not a guy to take no for an answer, and I learned it the hard way. He stepped right up to me and grabbed the hem of my shirt. I held it down as he tried to remove it. He pulled upward, and I shoved down. “Stop,” he instructed, unblinking.

He made my heart race and my breath hitch when he took the bottom of the shirt and slowly pulled it up over my stomach and told me to lift my arms. I started shaking as soon as I was bare chested in front of another human being. I didn’t even do that at the doctor’s office. “Lie on the bed.”

Never mind that I had sticky, almost dried cum on my hand and all over my crotch, never mind that he’d just forced me to bare my chest when I was extremely uncomfortable doing so, and never mind that I was seconds away from either crying or running out of my house in the middle of the night. I did as he asked, because I didn’t know what he would do if I didn’t.

Tristan straddled me, towel and all, across my hips. He took my hands, which I had crossed over my chest with my fingers tucked in my armpits, and moved them above my head. “Leave them there, or I’ll hold them down.” I couldn’t answer. I could barely breathe. He had to know how scared I was, didn’t he? Why would he do this?

As soon as his eyes left mine and he dropped them to my chest, he groaned, deep and guttural. He grabbed my nonexistent pecs in both hands and squeezed, massaging the area as if sizing up how little muscle there was under the surface. He grunted again. Then he circled both nipples with his thumbs. I shivered. I still couldn’t breathe, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to remember the original reason. When he bent forward and licked one nipple, I inhaled sharply and panted the air back out. His tongue swirled around my nipple as he cupped my soft flesh.

He adjusted his position, and I felt his hard shaft rubbing against mine through my boxers as he rocked gently. He moved his mouth over to the other side and suckled me, continuing to squeeze and fondle my chest. He pinched one nipple as he sucked on the other, rousing me to tilt my hips a teeny bit because something deep inside needed more.

He let out a heady groan and moved his mouth to my neck. He latched on, sucking hard. I was very familiar with the sting that followed, but I was not prepared to feel him pinching both nipples at the same time. Not hard, but causing just enough pain to make me writhe beneath him and whimper.

I knew he had told me to keep my hands above my head, but I couldn’t. I grabbed the back of his smooth head with one hand and gripped his shoulder with the other. I lifted my hips again into his rocking motion. “Tristan,” I gasped, becoming unglued by his talented tongue.

He didn’t say anything. He went back to suckling one nipple—but harder this time, painful this time. I felt teeth and cried out as I came.

Tristan lifted up, one hand planted on either side of my body, his face flushed. “If you didn’t enjoy any of that,” he said smugly, “then you may wear a T-shirt every single night to bed. But if you think you
might
want me to do that again, then you need to think long and hard about
why
you want to cover yourself up. Because, baby, I just came sucking on your tits. I’d call that a pretty damn good reason to let me see your body. I think you’re beautiful.”

He ran his palm all the way down my chest to my stomach as he got off of me. He rubbed his crotch as he stood, watching me, then removed the towel and dried the underside of his semilimp dick. After tossing the towel into the bathroom, he walked around to the far side of the bed, genitals bouncing with each step, and slipped under the sheet again.

I stood up and looked down. Yup, same body as I’d had before, only now one nipple was red and aching. My groin felt gross, so I went back to the bathroom. I shut the door and looked at my reflection. He’d marked me really good this time. I didn’t think I’d be able to hide the huge purple mark beneath my shirt collar.

I showered and felt much better after I was clean. I’d forgotten to bring another pair of underwear in with me, so I had to hope he’d turned the light off while I was busy. He hadn’t. I peeked out and asked, “Will you close your eyes and promise not to look?”

He huffed loudly and flipped over in the bed, burying his face under the pillow.

I scurried across the floor to grab another set of boxers. I slipped them on and stared at my T-shirts sitting in the drawer.
Should I?
I glanced at Tristan, still hiding his face. I inspected myself in the dresser mirror.
That
is the body that made him orgasm? Why? I had nothing to offer. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment and not liking me telling him no. He had gotten excited and came because he was overly stimulated. My brain then reminded me, whispering, “Overly stimulated from licking your nipples!”

I rubbed the sore one, the one he’d bitten. I shivered again. Tristan had used his teeth and I’d liked it, even though it really hurt. He’d basically ravaged my man-breasts—tits, he’d called them—and I’d come because of it. They weren’t actually pudgy like man-breasts; I knew I only saw them that way because they weren’t made of solid muscle. I was flat chested, pathetically weak looking. I could wear the T-shirt, he’d said, unless I wanted him to do that again. I turned around.

Tristan was still under the pillow. I took a deep breath, and for the first time since I was nine I went to bed
without
a shirt on.

Chapter 9: PDA, OCD, And Seeing Change As An Addition Problem Instead Of A Homogeneous Linear Differential Equation

IN THE
morning, while we were still spooning in bed, I stroked the arm that held me across my bare chest. Tristan sighed and snuggled closer. He kissed his way to the back of my ear and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I asked, knowing exactly what he meant but being afraid to talk about it.

“For forcing you to take off your shirt. For making you shake in fear. For pushing you to the verge of tears.”

I felt the emotion rising, quickly followed by accelerated breathing and a thudding heart rate.

Tristan moved swiftly, rolling me onto my back and repositioning himself right up against me. “Baby, I’m sorry. I will never do that again.” Leaning on one elbow, he ran his other hand over my hair and wiped away the tear that rolled down my cheek. “I got angry with you because I just don’t see you the same way as you see yourself, and I took it out on you the wrong way. I don’t want you to fear me.”

“I don’t,” I squeaked.

“You did. I saw it in your eyes, and yet I kept pushing.” He kept his eyes locked with mine, and I felt as though I was caught in his headlights. I couldn’t look away. Luckily he broke eye contact first, moving his gaze to follow his hand as he touched my hair again, rubbed my neck, and trailed his fingers across my collarbone. Tristan slid the backs of his fingers down the center of my chest and openly scrutinized my nakedness in the bright light of day. I thought he’d cringe or recoil as I watched him looking me over. He didn’t. He breathed more rapidly, openmouthed, eyes dancing over my chest. Tristan seemed dazed. Then he dipped down and kissed my breastbone as he squeezed the side of my chest, his thumb putting pressure on the sorest part.

I winced.

Tristan jerked his head back, his gaze connecting with mine and then dropping back down to my nipple. “I bit you too hard.” He gently ran the tips of his fingers over that area. “It’s swollen.”

“It hurts,” I admitted. I wanted to cover it with my hand, but my arm was pinned to the bed under his side.

Tristan leaned in and licked me, flat-tongued, all over the reddened area; then he blew on it. The chill shocked me, yet it felt really nice. He did it again, licking me and swirling his tongue over my nipple before blowing on the wetness. “How’s that?”

I smiled faintly. “Feels nice.”

He cupped my pec, only gentler this time, and kissed me there. He moved over to the other nipple and licked it until the nub hardened. He nuzzled my erect right nipple with his nose, and I giggled. It seemed silly. “You like that?” he asked, continuing to nuzzle and lick alternately. He’d shifted his position, which allowed me to move my arm, but now I didn’t feel like covering myself. I caressed his shoulder as he licked me.