Page 71 of The Tryout

He’s rambling a bit, and the self-deprecating tone in his voice makes me wonder if he’s nervous.

“Cool. Is it ok if I lose a few layers? I’ll keep my underwear on, but it’d be nice if I could lose the jeans, at least.”

“Yeah. Sure. Definitely.”

I push my jeans down, glad I picked the Calvin Klein briefs this morning after my shower.

What can I say? I was hopeful.

Finn seems glad I picked them, too, his eyes focused on my cock, barely hidden by the scrap of material.

I know I’m smirking, but I can’t help it. I love seeing Finn want like this, even more so when he lets me give him what he wants. I put a hand under the hem of my shirt, running it up, stroking over a nipple while simultaneously revealing my abs. His eyebrows lift and his smile grows bigger than I’ve ever seen it, reclined on my bed and enjoying the show.

I run my hand back down my chest, reaching for the hem and lifting an eyebrow at him.

He gives me the smallest of nods and I lift the shirt up, over my head and throw it across the room. Suddenly, it feels like the most important thing in the world to be near him. I crawl up from the foot of the bed toward him, climbing over his body, stopping when my face is in front of his and stealing another kiss, this one lighter than the rest.

Then, I move down, not just to his neck this time, but lower. My teeth graze his nipple and his hips thrust upward, his dick rubbing against the sparse hair on my stomach.

Well, if he’s so desperate for attention.

I move further down to where his dick is now standing at full attention. My hands run up to either side of his dick, thumbs running over the crease where his leg meets his groin.

In this position, my hips are pressed into the bed, all weight off of my knee. I can’t help but be grateful he suggested the change; without the pressure of the hard floor on my knee, I’m able to sink fully into the experience.

I haven’t even put my mouth on him yet, but still Finn is hard as a rock. I lean down, kissing first one hip, then the other. He moans in frustration.

“You know,” I say, looking up at him, “there’s nothing wrong with telling me what you like, what you want.”

He grunts, too horny to put together a coherent thought.

“What do you want, Finn?”

He takes a breath, trying to calm down enough to form a response.

“I want your mouth.”

I bring my mouth back down to his hip, where I suck hard, my teeth scraping gently against the skin. I look at him, as if to ask Here?

A sound of frustration escapes his throat, his hips punching up off the bed.

“On my dick, Avery!”

I only take a moment to smile wide before taking him in my mouth, as deep as I can. Slowly, I pull off, dragging the flat of my tongue along the bottom of his dick, feeling the ridges of veins. As I reach the tip, I trace my tongue around the head, flicking up to taste his precum.

Then, I sink back down, taking him even deeper than the first time, gag reflex all but forgotten. My cheeks hollow out as I suck hard, drawing back once more. His precum is plentiful, and I can tell he’s on a razor’s edge.

“Avery, I’m gonna, I’m gonna…”

My eyes lock with his as I take him deep again. His eyes flutter shut as he falls over the edge, filling my mouth with his cum. I suck him a few more times, catching the last drops of his load and swallowing them down.

Meanwhile, he has collapsed on the pile of throw pillows at the head of his bed, encased in soft fabrics of pale blue and green and white. I rest my head against his hip, tracing patterns on his stomach.

After a minute, his head shoots up.

“Fuck. Give me a second, okay? Just…a second, yeah?”

I snort a laugh against his hip, delighted at just how lost Finn gets in his pleasure.