Page 63 of Offside

Sam’s face buckled, his hands snapping to my sides and taking hold of them so tightly that I could feel his nails leaving indentations in my skin. He somehow still thought I was gearing up to dump him or something, but I couldn’t do that.

I knew that when I walked in his door–that I wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

“I only did it because I was scared of losing you,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“I know,” I sighed, settling a little more between his legs. “I just need you to have a little more faith in me, baby. I was already in love with you up here,” I said, tapping on his temple softly. “And all this,” I went on, gesturing at his barely naked body under me. “Well, now that was just my favorite eye candy at work–a little part of me was excited when I first realized my boyfriend's brain was shoved in my hot coworker's body.”

“Yes, but–”

“No, buts,” I interrupted, pinching his hip softly to get his attention again. “All I need to hear right now is that you won't lie to me again, baby. I don’t need an explanation or a declaration of love–none of that. Just that you won't lie to me again.”

A relieved sigh fell from his lips, nodding gently as the rest of his body relaxed under me. “I won’t lie to you again,” he said softly.

Sam started to shift under me, making me sit back on my feet to set him free. I wasn’t all that keen on too much space from him, but luckily neither was he–sitting up on his knees and draping his arms around my neck to pull me back into him.

His lips were back on mine, and I swore nothing had ever felt better.

Sam had a lot more confidence again, kissing down my neck and giggling every time a new spot made me make a sound. I was letting him explore whatever he wanted because I knew this was new, but in a way, it was new for me, too.

I'd never felt something so… intimate in my life.

His soft hands started pulling at my sweatpants, pulling them down slightly as his lips brushed the trail of hair leading from my belly button. I was trying to maintain some kind of composure, but absolutely nothing prepared me for looking down and finding Sam eyeing that piercing with his tongue between his teeth.

“Does...” he trailed off quietly, only briefly glancing up at me. “Does playing with it do anything for you, or is it just decoration?” he finally asked, his small hand gently gliding up my covered thigh and resting around the base of my aching cock.

“Does a lot for me,” I breathed, dropping a hand to his mess of curls. “But you don’t have to–”

The words caught in my throat as his tongue darted out, going straight for the metal ball at my tip. I was breathing out moans at every movement–every exploratory lick or tug had me panting in minutes.

Metal talked about my piercing a lot–he loved it. He told me almost constantly how badly he wanted to do exactly this the first chance he got, yet I was still surprised watching him swallow every inch he could of me.

For a man who was newly attracted to men, he sure had the fucking mechanics of it down pat.

Once he had too much in his throat, he gagged around me, and I had to pull him off me. My brain was fucking numb at how warm and perfect his mouth felt, but that gag…I would have finished way too quickly if he did it again.

Sam whined when I pulled his hair, pulling him off me. I couldn’t hear that noise again, but certainly not when it was accompanied by the sweetest pout I'd ever seen.

On my favorite face.

Without a second thought, I dropped to my back on his bed, pulling at his thigh to get him between my legs. I wasn’t actually in the mood to bottom, but I also wasn’t in the mood to have this potentially end because Sam wasn’t into bottoming–I was pretty sure I was about two minutes from dying if one of us wasn’t inside the other.

“Do I?” he asked, broken up by the moan of me reaching between us to stroke his angry-looking cock a few times–coat it in lube before working a few slick fingers into myself. “I don’t know what to do,” he finally got out, breathing hard above me.

A hiss worked its way out of me at the slight stretch I was giving myself. I would probably have been fine, but Sam’s little guy wasn’t so little at all, so I wanted to do a little prep.

“You’ve had sex,” I said plainly, slipping my fingers out and settling a little more comfortably under him. “I hate to burst the bubble, but sex with a woman and sex with a man are very similar when you’re the top–”

“Says the guy who’s never had sex with a woman–”

“And says the guy who can barely say he has,” I interrupted, smirking up at him. “I promise,” I said a little softer, gently pulling at his hips to bring him a little closer to me. “I will tell you if something's not right, and we’ll fix it.”

Sam was nervous, and something deep in my chest was fluttering at that. I'd heard Metal’s nervous rambles and stuttering for months, and I’d dreamed about what his face would look like while doing them. I was finally getting that answer, and it was so much better than whatever I imagined.

It was such a pretty face.

Nervously, Sam nodded. He started pressing his hips forward, pushing into me slowly and dropping his jaw at just the tip inside. My back arched a little, adjusting to the intrusion the more he sank into me, and breathing through the unfamiliar stretch.

Even when I bottomed before, I was always on my knees because it hurt less. It felt better, and I could pretend Justin was whoever I wanted him to be, but I didn’t want any of that with Sam.