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Authors: Wade Kelly

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Bankers' Hours (25 page)

BOOK: Bankers' Hours
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As my body melted into a pile of bones and limp flesh, I finally opened my eyes and watched Tristan as he released me from his lips and continued to study my appendage as it shrank. “What are you doing?” I asked, much like I had before, only this time I couldn’t muster the energy to panic.

Tristan inspected my tiny organ, flopping it from one side to the other. He said, “Just looking. I didn’t expect you to have foreskin.”

Suddenly, I was teleported back to seventh grade, where the whole gym class had laughed at me for being different. My stomach muscles quaked as I prepared for his ridicule.

He turned his head and eyed me uneasily. “Grant, what did I say?”

I turned away as the tears rolled down my cheeks. I didn’t know why I was getting so emotional about it, except my whole body felt raw and exposed after orgasm. Tristan was there, pulling me into his arms and holding me securely to his chest.

“Shhh,” he soothed. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, just tell me so I don’t say it again.”

I sniffled and explained between sobs. “I’ve always hated… myself… for….” I sobbed and gulped air. “Being different. Kids… in school… laughed at… me.” I knew if I didn’t calm down, I was going to hyperventilate.

Tristan rubbed my back and hugged me again. “Oh, baby, no. They were wrong. I’m so sorry you went through that. I wasn’t making fun of you—I like it.”

Had I heard him correctly? I took another convulsive breath and eased out of his arms to look him in the eyes. If he was lying to save my feelings, I was 80 percent certain I would know. “Are you… serious?”

He smiled, the corners of his eyes wrinkling in that familiar way they did when he was happy. “Yes, I’m serious. I like your foreskin. It’s hot.”

I made a face. “Eww, no it’s not.”

“Yes, it is,” he reassured me. “Do you realize all the fun we can have with that? I like to play, Grant.”

“Play?”

“Yeah,” he responded, in a way that told me I should understand what he meant, only I didn’t. “I like to lick and taste, and… plaaay. One of these mornings, I’m going to take your foreskin in my mouth when you’re asleep and flick my tongue inside the folds until you harden. Then I’m going to slide your skin over the head of my throbbing cock and use it to jack us off together.”

I was no longer hyperventilating, I was stunned into not breathing at all—wide-eyed and speechless.

“Breathe, Grant.”

I inhaled sharply and then let the air out long and slow. “You aren’t joking.”

“No.”

“What about the stuff you said about being rough and not wanting to scare me?”

“That’s all true, but as I get to know you, I’m adjusting my pleasures to fit yours. I know
how
to be gentle, but I haven’t found the need to be until now. I’ll be gentle with you, but I love playing. Sex is supposed to be fun. We’re going to have fun.”

I tucked my head under his chin and snuggled very close, thinking about what he said. With every little thing, I had assumed that he would react or think a certain way based on my past experiences. So far, he wasn’t like anyone I’d ever met. If Tristan was willing to adjust for me, then maybe I needed to rethink the way I thought about things he said and did.

“So… you think it’s okay that I’m not cut like you?” I asked in the tiny little voice of a child. I almost embarrassed myself with how I sounded, but I wasn’t feeling very adultish at the moment. I felt small.

He rolled me onto my back and propped himself up on his elbow so he could look at me. “Let me tell you something. I don’t know where you got the silly idea that you have to look like me, but you need to stop. There are several fun things to do with foreskin that guys like me miss out on. You will learn to love your penis just the way it is. I promise.”

“Don’t forget how small I am,” I pointed out.

“Only compared to me. Most guys are small compared to me, but you have to be six inches.”

“Five and a half.”

“See? You’re smack dab in the middle of average.”

I huffed.

“Grant,” he warned. “You’re fine. Stop comparing and enjoy what you have. I do.”

Tristan had a way of making me feel so good, even about inadequacies I had obsessed over for years. I asked, “Promise?”

“Promise. I fell for you just the way you are. I like that you’re fastidious and peculiar. I like that you’re
not
muscular, although I’m glad you joined my gym because everyone’s body can stand some toning. And yes, I like that you’re uncircumcised. You need to stop second-guessing me and realize I say what I think. No one makes me feel like you do.”

As he said all those nice things, Tristan rubbed my stomach. It felt so nice, like he was trying to calm my nerves as he set me straight on what he thought. He was so handsome and patient. A random thought popped into my head, and I said, “I’m naked.”

He blinked. “Um, yeah…. And?”

“And this is the longest I’ve ever lain around without clothes on. I’m only ever naked in the bathroom. But here I am, on my bed, next to you, naked. I’m not as anxious about it as I thought I’d be.”

“Is there a reason you’d feel nervous? Because I’ve told you how I feel about your body.”

As he continued mapping out my skin, I had to consider what I had promised myself about telling him. If I was to trust him with my body, I would have to trust him with my trauma. I started slowly. “When I was a kid, I made friends with another boy up the street. Behind his house there were acres of cornfields. Now there are housing developments, but back then it was a kid’s dream to run and explore. My friend and I would make up games all the time based on TV shows.”

I paused, and he said, “Uh-huh.”

His attention encouraged me to continue. “In sixth grade, his sister was into watching
Smallville
. I don’t know when it came on television originally or when it ended, but she had DVDs, and my friend watched them sometimes. He suggested we pretend. When I asked how, he explained this one scene where Clark was tied up to a post in a cornfield in his underwear. I didn’t understand why he wanted me to do that, but I went along with it because I was stupid and naive, and he assured me it was only a game and he wouldn’t tie my arms too tight. Well, he tied them really tight. And once I was helpless, he shoved my underwear down.”

“Oh, Grant,” Tristan whispered, kissing my shoulder.

“He left me there for a long time—I’m not sure how long—but when he came back, he wasn’t alone. He brought four other boys, and they laughed at me. They called me a skinny faggot and threw tomatoes. Luckily, one of their mothers had followed them, wondering what they were up to taking her tomatoes from her window ledge. They all got in trouble, but it didn’t change how they’d made me feel. After that day, I never let anyone see me naked.” I wiped my eyes as Tristan pressed a kiss to my jaw.

“Your body is beautiful, baby. Simply beautiful. I don’t care how long it takes for me to erase what that kid did, but I will make a point to never make fun of your body.” Tristan smiled and then kissed me. “I want to help you relax and enjoy being with me.”

“Oh, I do!” I asserted. “I’ve never felt so calm around anyone before. You make me feel good, and I don’t just mean the blowjob.”

He laughed, which made me happy, because it was getting very tense and heavy in the room. He said, “I’m glad. Do you want to try something else, or are you good for the night?”

I could tell he was sincere, especially when he ran his fingers through my hair and rubbed his foot against mine. Tristan wasn’t suggesting anything, he was only wondering. “I think I’m good. This was a lot for me, especially recapping the sixth-grade nightmare. Besides, I’m starting to feel like people are watching through the window and judging me.”

Tristan glanced over at the windows. “The curtains are drawn, Grant. No one can see.”

I looked away. He still didn’t get it. I had lain on the bed naked as long as I could, but the fact was that I still had a hard time looking at myself. Knowing his parts were almost twice the size of mine made me feel so inadequate.

“Grant?” His tone commanded I explain myself, even if his volume was hushed. “You’re doing it again.”

“I’m sorry,” I whimpered. “I’m not used to being so exposed. I feel awkward being next to you. It was fine when I was distracted during sex, but now I feel so small and… vulnerable. You have no idea how perfect you are, and how hard it is for me not to compare myself.”

I thought he’d say something, but he didn’t. His eyes told me the gears were moving, but so far no steam rose from his ears. “Will you let me try something?”

“I guess.”

He grinned. “All right. Trust me, okay? I’m not going to hurt you, and I promise not to bite anything.”

“Okay.”

Tristan rolled off the bed and went to my closet. “Do you have any ties you don’t wear?”

I sat up on my elbows. “Um, no. What are you doing?”

“How about this one?”

He’d found the one Christmas tie I’d gotten at a white elephant party three years ago. I’d worn it to work at Christmas, but rarely more than once a year. I conceded, “Okay. Use that one, but what are you doing?”

Tristan came back to the bed swiftly, shedding his underwear in the process. “Lie back down,” he said. “I’m going to blindfold you.”

“I don’t know what this has to do with anything.”

“First, it’s an exercise in trust. Second, if you can’t see anything, you can’t know what you’re self-conscious of. I want you to close your eyes and let your body feel.”

He did have a way of making me feel good, so even though I was unsure, I nodded and closed my eyes.

Tristan tied the tie around my eyes. “Think about what you feel.”

“I feel cold. I feel the air around my body, and the heat of your leg next to my hip.”

“Good.” The bed shifted.

I felt the bed dip on both sides of me. His hands? His feet? I didn’t think his knees were on either side, because I was certain I’d feel his groin as he straddled me. Something smooth ran down the center of my chest. It was warm, but thicker than his knuckles. His large hand cupped my left pec. I hoped he wouldn’t refer to them as tits again, because I’d decided I didn’t like that term. He grunted. The bed shifted and dipped by my head, and then I felt that soft warm object rub over my nipple. I flinched in surprise. At first I thought it was his palm, but the skin of his palm wasn’t that soft. The bed dipped again, and he was back down by my hips. The smooth thing touched my dick this time. It ran down my length and back up.

I jerked, hips tilting, stomach tightening, but I did my best not to rip the tie off my face and jump from the bed.

“Shhh,” he said in a soothing tone.

I felt that same part of him slide up and back again—only this time it wasn’t just soft, it was wet. I asked, “Are you rubbing your dick on me?”

He snickered low and deep, and that smooth object, the one that oozed liquid as it slid across me, pulsed and moved lower across my ball sac and then down the inside of my thigh.

Knowing what it was, I shivered.

Tristan moved his big cock to my other thigh and ran it up my skin. He batted my once-again-hard dick left and then right with his club. I felt him nudge my tip with his, and his wetness dripped down my skin. He paused again, and I felt the bed shift, but after several seconds of nothing, I wondered what was going on. I suspected—but surely he wouldn’t be jacking off while I was blindfolded?

“Tristan?”

I heard a breathy grunt.

I lifted the tie and peeked out. Tristan was on one knee, the other leg arched over my hips with his foot planted on the other side. His massive cock in hand, he stroked rapidly, eyes closed, chest heaving as he breathed erratically. I was about to ask if he needed help when his body jerked and white semen shot out, splatting my stomach. Another ribbon shot up my chest, and another short-shot and landed on my dick. Before I could react, I was covered in white ropes of his ejaculate.

Tristan moaned and tilted his head back, still holding his cock.

I felt gross, yet moderately turned on. “Are you done?” I asked, tie blindfold slipped up on my forehead.

Tristan opened his eyes and smirked at me. “Sorry. I was trying to get you to realize how fun it can be without seeing every little thing that happens, and then I got too worked up and needed to come. You made me so horny I couldn’t stand it.”

I sat up and removed the tie, tossing it on the nightstand. I was right up next to his body where he knelt. “I guess I can’t blame you. Whatever that was, it was kind of erotic, particularly after I figured out what you were rubbing all over me. Your dick is quite soft for being large enough to beat baby seals to death.”

“What?” he asked incredulously.

“Oh, um, I said that out loud?” I remarked, guiltily squinting my eyes.

“Yes. I know it’s large, but don’t you think that’s appalling? I would never beat baby seals. Can you think of another analogy that doesn’t involve killing animals?”

“Baton? Battering ram?”

“A little better. So you’re not mad? I thought you’d be mad if I spunked all over you.”

I shrugged. “No. It’s gross, but it did turn me on.” I looked down and wiped up a big glop that was sliding down my chest. I studied the opaque liquid as it ran down my finger, then sucked it off. It didn’t really taste like anything. “Next time warn me, and I might let you shoot in my mouth.”

Tristan growled and dove forward, pinning me to the bed. He ravished me with kisses as he rubbed his body all over mine. Our skin slipped and slid with his cum, and I could not contain myself. I giggled. And giggled some more. Tristan sucked on my neck and yet I still giggled.

“Tristan! Tristan! Stop, this is so gross. I need a shower.”

He lifted his head and smiled down at me. “Okay. Shower
with
me this time?”

I hemmed and hawed, but in the end I relented. “I guess.”

“Great!” he beamed, leaping off me and jetting for the bathroom.

We showered, but with minimal exploration. I think he was afraid to push me. He was so patient with me, knowing everything we’d done was a first. In fact, his patience made me yearn to try more things. I didn’t, but I knew I would soon because of how safe he made me feel.

BOOK: Bankers' Hours
10.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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