Page 80 of Built To Perform

I wiped the back of my hand across my eyes, the movement jerky, almost angry. Squinted up at him, my vision blurred with tears.

“It just makes me want you more, okay?” I told him. “It just makes me want you more.”

Barely time to suck down a breath, before I was crushed against his chest.

Jefferson’s arms around me, squeezing intently. As though - after everything that’d happened, everything that he’d just admitted - he was afraid that I might vanish if he didn’t grip me so tightly. My face mashed into the meat of his muscles, and his familiar scent flooding my senses.

And just like always, there was only one way for my body to react to that.

Hard before I even knew what was happening, grinding myself against his leg. My hands digging under his shirt, hungry to feel bare skin. Resentful of the scant layers of fabric between us, of anything that kept me apart from my big bro, even if only by a fraction of an inch.

“Fuck, Eoin.”

Surprise in his voice, bordering on shock, only his hands weren’t waiting for an explanation. Undaunted by my urgent fumbling and groping; busy themselves, in fact, even if Jefferson’s brain was still struggling to catch up.

I grunted, the sound lost in his chest, as he squeezed my cheeks. Wanting to push back, to feel my ass fill his palms, only doing so would cheat me of the friction from his muscled thigh.

Not that there was anything to stop Jefferson from exploring me with his fingers, of course. Their tips pushing between my cheeks, brushing across the blunt base of the plug.

“You went walking with Coach’s boyfriend with this in?” Jefferson sounded amused.

“You didn’t tell me I could take it out yet.”

He laughed. “And you need my permission?”

If I hooked my leg around his calf, I discovered, it meant I could rub my dick against his leg a little harder. By the time I looked up at him, Jefferson was already smirking at my enthusiasm.

“Look how much trouble I got myself into, by not listening to you and the guys?” I reminded him. “I figured I’d give obedience a try.”

He pressed at the plug, driving it deeper into me and at new and dizzying angles. I didn’t even bother trying to hold back my gasp.

“I think we’re too far gone for obedience, lil bro.”

I wanted to make some smart reply - some teasing, flirting thing which would make Jefferson laugh again - only my brain wasn’t cooperating. Too focused on the sensation of his hands on me, of his body pressed against mine, of the way he worked the thick rubber toy. There was something possessive about the big senior’s touch which stole the words from my lips.

It took effort for him to skin my shorts down. Fighting against my own, desperate need to cling to him; my refusal to cede even a fraction of an inch. Even though I knew how much better it would feel, Jefferson’s hands on my bare ass.

He traced the clinging straps of the jock with his thumbs, while his fingers toyed with the plug. Setting up a rhythm, squeezing it deeper. No way not to imagine it was his dick inside me, instead.

His jeans felt soft, the denim worn and thin. Barely a whisper as I stroked my palm down the trapped length of his erection.

“Lil bro...”

It sounded like a warning. One I had no intention of heeding.

“You could’ve pulled the truck over,” I pointed out. “Was it so important that we got here on time?”

Jefferson chuckled. “You’re as bad as Brayden.”

I brushed my thumb across the fat swell of his cockhead, lewdly outlined by the straining fabric.

“Or,” I countered, “Brayden has some good ideas, and we should listen to him more often.”

“In that case you’d spend half your life face down with your ass in the air,” he teased.

“I would’ve thought you liked that.”

He worked his fingertips under the flare of the plug, pulling at my hole where it was already stretched around the thick rubber stem. Grinning at my whine, how my eyes widened as he pushed into me.