Box Shaped Heart – Ch. 30
By Laura S. Fox
Copyright © 2019 Laura S. Fox
All Rights Reserved
Intended for Mature Audiences Only
This story will contain graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, strong language and it is not meant for readers who are less than 18 years of age.
Consider making a donation to Nifty by clicking the little blue button on the front page, as they help us all enjoy so many great stories, while aiding authors like me to display their work.
Chapter Thirty – How to Cure Performance Anxiety – A Short Guide
Could Aron tell he was nervous? His friend closed his hand over Carter's, and all he could do was to think of the warmth he was feeling. It was not exactly like they were holding hands, and there was some room between them on the back seat, while the taxi driver seemed more preoccupied with watching the road ahead rather than spying on them.
You're getting a little paranoid, aren't you?
You saw what happened with Simon earlier! What if someone finds out?
Aron doesn't seem to care. Why do you?
I care. I care that he doesn't get hurt.
Another funny thing was how silent they were after their happy banter from before. Each one was staring over the window on his side, and there seemed to be no words they cared to share. Carter could not exactly remember that kind of situation. Although Aron had said something before about Carter's way of falling silent. Was that one of those moments? When he just lost himself in his own head, while Aron didn't mind? Maybe the only difference was that he was well aware of it now, unlike those times.
Aron paid the fare, exchanging a few polite words with the driver, and then proceeded to extract Carter from the taxi. Extract certainly being the exact word seeing that he wasn't sure how well he could keep himself on his feet.
Apparently quite well, he noticed as he stood next to Aron, after the taxi took off, leaving them in front of a posh boutique hotel.
"You booked a room for tonight?" Carter asked.
Ah, that meant that Aron hoped to get lucky. Well, he ended up taking Carter with him, eventually, so probably he wasn't that lucky. Seeing Carter's terrible performance anxiety at the moment.
"No, for a longer stay. I have ties with the owner, so I got a pretty nice deal," Aron explained.
"Why would you stay at a hotel?" Carter questioned. "Why aren't you staying with your parents? Or get a new place to live?"
"I'm just hoping to deal with this separation problem quickly. Plus, I haven't exactly had the time to search for a new place," Aron said matter-of-factly.
"That doesn't exactly answer my first question," Carter pointed out.
"Ah, well, there's no way for me to deflect you, right?" Aron chuckled. "My parents don't need the stress. They insisted that I should come to stay with them, but frankly, I think I need some time alone, to reflect a little on ... you know, stuff," the man added, his voice trailing off a bit.
"Ah, then I'm interrupting your reflections?" Carter hurried. "By coming over?"
"You definitely are," Aron laughed. "Actually, I'm counting on it," he added, and pulled Carter close to him, as they entered the elevator.
The dignified man in livery tending the elevator didn't seem bothered by the public display of ... whatever Aron was doing to him.
"Good evening, Mr. Ruskin. Did you have a good night?" the man inquired politely.
"Excellent, Randolf," Aron replied cheerfully. "And it's only getting better."
Carter was sure that grin had been directed to him since the hotel employee was already with his back at them, fiddling with the buttons of the machinery. And that was making his heart grow small, small, small.
"That is great to hear, Mr. Ruskin. If there's anything you would like us to bring to the room, please just let the room service know. There seems to be a quiet night."
Carter was gently pushed out of the elevator, as Aron remained a few steps behind to tell the hotel employee something that didn't quite reach his ears.
Most probably, because even the sound of a fanfare could not overwhelm the beating of his heart.
"We're here," Aron gestured toward a door which he opened quickly with his card, allowing Carter to go in.
And make a little fool of himself, as he gasped in surprise.
"Is this like a penthouse suite or something?" he said out loud. "Man, it's like you're in the lap of luxury."
Aron closed the door behind them carefully and remained silent for a moment. Carter turned, and watched his best friend since forever, leaning against the door, his thumbs hung in his pockets as if he was waiting for something.
"Impressed?" Aron asked, something challenging, yet warm flickering in his eyes.
"Yeah, like how could I not be? I've never been anywhere this nice."
"So? What would you like to do?"
Drop to my knees and worship your cock.
Hush, does the pervert in you never sleep?
"I don't know," he shrugged. "I'm afraid if I sit on that white sofa, I might just get it dirty just by breathing in its direction."
Aron's low chuckle tickled his ears.
"Please feel at home," the host urged, but Carter didn't feel more at ease.
As he was busy taking in his surroundings, Aron sneaked from behind and embraced him.
"You seem a little tense," Aron whispered into his ear. "I think I have just the remedy for that. Let's hit that jacuzzi," he added, sliding both his hands into Carter's, linking their fingers together.
"Um, okay," Carter said softly.
It was easy just to follow Aron around. But when Aron let go of his hand, to climb the few stairs to the area where Carter supposed served as the bedroom, he just stood there, looking.
With practiced ease, Aron pulled off his tank top, allowing Carter to admire his broad shoulders and muscled back. When Aron began unbuckling his belt, Carter gulped so loudly that the man turned.
"Are you going into the jacuzzi all dressed up like this?" Aron laughed. "Not that I don't appreciate how nice you look. I wasn't expecting that."
"What were you expecting?" Carter mumbled.
"Just you," Aron said simply. "I was just expecting you."
The man's dark gaze trained on him was so intense that Carter could swear he was just going to melt to the floor or burn like a candle. His usually overactive brain was silent, probably mesmerized with Aron, too, with how beautiful and perfect the man was.
"It's okay, I will give you a hand," Aron smiled a little too smugly for Carter to feel safe.
What are you afraid of, exactly?
Ah, look who decided to join the party.
The question still stands.
I'm afraid ... I'm afraid that I'm going to fall and never come back up from this.
Aron interrupted his conversation to his own brain by walking over and putting his fingers on Carter's first shirt button, proceeding carefully, with a small frown that Carter was certain he found sexy for some reason.
But the frown was slowly melting, turning into a smile, with each button giving in. When Aron slowly pushed the shirt down his shoulders, Carter knew he needed to do something, to stop or hurry this torturous pace at which things were happening.
"Aron," he called, and his voice was broken, strange, even to his own ears.
But his best friend since forever didn't seem in the mood for conversation. If anything, he seemed in the mood for something else. And that something else included making Carter crazy. He leaned in very, very little, and soon their lips were touching and their tongues were tasting each other, and Aron knew exactly how to make their bodies touch, too.
It was fine like this. It wasn't exactly calming down the fluttering butterflies in his stomach, but he wasn't required to do a thing, so everything was absolutely fine. Aron managed to undress him completely, pulling him out of his jeans he had no idea how, and soon enough he was more naked than his friend, and that had to mean something, although he didn't dare to process what.
"Is there something wrong?" Aron murmured against his lips.
"Performance anxiety," he whispered, very, very slowly.
"Hmm?" the man wondered, preoccupied to caress Carter's cheeks with his thumbs as his hands cupped firmly the jawline.
"Like, you know," Carter murmured. "How I'll ... perform."
"Ah," Aron seemed to understand what was going on in the other's scattered brain. "But I have just the remedy for that. Leave everything to me."
"Okay, cool," Carter replied.
Aron let him go only to shed off the rest of his clothes quickly and pulled Carter by the hand, making him follow.
He barely registered the luxury surrounding him, as Aron made him join him into the hot bath. The gentle sound of the jets working was a bit soothing for his nerves, but Aron's hands on him, and the guy's lips were making him dizzy with a kind of excitement that now, at least, he knew something about.
Aron pulled him closer, kissing him slowly, as if not to scare him.
"Let's take the edge off a little," Aron whispered and pushed him until he sat on the edge of the hot tub.
He watched as the man knelt in the water, between his legs and grabbed his erection fast. Wow, his dick was really up for it, performance anxiety or not, Carter thought.
And cursed, as Aron's engulfed the hard cock into his mouth. All right, now wasn't the time to make a total fool of himself, by crying out loud all the pleasure coursing up his spine, to his brain, and back to his cock again.
Aron was great at deepthroating, unlike him. Even if Carter was larger than the guy's husband, Aron seemed to have no trouble swallowing that thing down and somehow caress it with his tongue, over and over again with each move.
Talking about performance anxiety, it was clear Aron had none. He was doing a fine job, no, a great job, and he had no qualms with making Carter shiver. The fact that Carter still had his legs dangling in the hot water didn't seem to matter. He was hot and cold at the same time.
"How is it?" Aron let go of his cock, just wrapping one hand around Carter's balls, and stared up.
He could not speak. But he reached for Aron and pulled him up to kiss him. That had to do for an answer. Aron did kiss back, but it was clear as day that he wanted to return to the task at hand.
"No, no, no," Carter protested, holding Aron near.
"Don't you want to come?" Aron murmured, his intense gaze dropping to Carter's mouth.
"But it just seems so one-sided," Carter replied, his voice weak.
"Don't worry, you'll be able to make it up to me later," Aron promised.
Aron was going down on him again, and this time was kissing his way there, creating an ebb and flow of desire that was only getting higher each time lips connected to flesh.
"You do it so well," Carter mumbled, not knowing what else to say while he caressed Aron's head gently.
Because he had done it so many times before? With others? Carter knew he could not afford the luxury of getting jealous over such things. Aron was his, probably for these fleeting moments only, and all he could do was to enjoy himself while it lasted.
He groaned in pure pleasure as Aron took him deep once again. Taking the edge off? Carter wasn't sure if this was going to solve the problem. He was fighting hard not to let go, not to make a fool of himself by coming too soon, but it was damn hard to focus on that, as Aron's mouth and throat were acting like the perfect cock sleeve, moist and hot, and squeezing in all the right places, at just the right moments.
It was good that the man was wearing his hair short because otherwise, he might have ended up with a much unpleasant hair pulling experience. Carter came, long and hard, and kept Aron's head buried into his crotch for what seemed like a small eternity.
Aron caught him, and pulled him into a tight embrace, generous enough to share the creamy load in his mouth. Carter wasn't minding it at all. All tasted better from Aron's mouth. Maybe even vanilla ice cream. Although this was more like whip cream if he were to think about it.
Just that he wasn't doing much thinking right now. There was no point in it, anyway. Aron withdrew, very slowly and very gently, and soon they were staring into each other's eyes, with a mix of wonder and excitement, maybe with a tinge of wistfulness. At least, that was what he was reading in Aron's deep dark eyes. Maybe he was just imagining things, but he could not exactly recall this kind of look, from the time when he had been Aron's placeholder of a husband, and from before that, either.
It was something completely new.
"Better?" Aron asked, his smiled returning.
"Oh, yeah," Carter smiled in turn.
"Let's just chill a little," Aron offered.
"Don't you ..." Carter gestured, unsure, toward the other's manhood that now, as Aron was standing, was stiff and demanding.
"You took me by surprise that first time," Aron explained, and pulled him down, so they could both sit and enjoy the relaxing jets. "Now I really have to assume the role of the instructor in this."
"Instructor, huh?" Carter wondered, and Aron covered his mouth with a short kiss, again.
"Of course, what kind of friend I would be not to offer you the full course?" Aron joked.
Shut up. Does he kiss all his friends like this?
"Do you kiss all your friends like this?" he asked, considering that an interesting bit of information like that had to be explored.
Aron's low chuckle made him tremble in an instant.
"No, just you."
"So I'm your special friend?" Carter asked, remembering the conversation he had had at the clothing store.
"You're special all right," Aron laughed. "After being best friends for 25 years, I'd say you're pretty special."
"23," Carter said promptly. "We had a 2-year hiatus. Plus, if we think of all that time you were away after college when I only saw you on special occasions ..."
"I should not have left," Aron interrupted him.
Say what? What is this supposed to mean?
I have no idea.
The cheerful sound of a bell interrupted his thoughts.
"That must be room service," Aron jumped out of the hot tub and grabbed a robe to cover himself.
Can you be slower than this? Opportunity lost.
No way, we'll get to ask him.
Aron came back a couple of minutes later and invited Carter to get out of the tub. Apparently, there was a fluffy robe readily available for him, too. He was about to move back into the main room when Aron planted a towel on his head and began rubbing it vigorously.
"Hey," he protested from under the towel.
"I don't want you to catch a cold," Aron explained. "Your hair got wet a little."
"I can do it," Carter said.
"Sure, but am I going to let you?" Aron joked.
So he had to endure this or something. When Aron pulled down the towel, Carter looked up. There it was again. That look. What did it mean?
"Let's take things to the bedroom," Aron whispered. "I remember a certain promise you need to honor."
Oh, that. Hmm, that performance anxiety was rearing its ugly head again. Aron must have had so many skilled lovers before. Although he had said something about other guys not being that many. But what did Carter know about gay sex, anyway? Except for the practice during the time when he had been in Alex's body.
Now he wished he had more experience under the belt, pun totally intended. As Aron's husband, he should have topped the guy more often. That would have made things a whole lot easier now.
At least Aron seemed to have things totally under control, as he was once again pulling Carter after him, making both of them land on the bed, ready for some horizontal play.
It was easy to deal with everything if Aron was in charge. The man had placed one muscular leg between Carter's, and he was now making them kiss again.
"So, now, I have to fuck you?" Carter mumbled, not daring to open his eyes, as Aron's lips finally allowed him to speak.
"Yeah," Aron confirmed and laughed.
Of course he could laugh. He wasn't the one worried in all this.
What if he came too fast? Carter began to fret internally. What if Aron was going to hate it? What if ...
"Here's a drop of liquid courage," Aron moved away and turned back with a champagne flute.
Carter straightened up and took the glass. Well, at least his hands were steady. He waited for Aron to grab his own, but when the man turned again, he was holding a strawberry. Slowly, while all the time watching Carter, Aron dipped the strawberry into the flute and brought the fruit to Carter's lips.
"You're kidding me, right? Like in the movies or something? Is this the honeymoon package?" Carter began running his mouth.
"Hush, just open wide," Aron chided him.
Hmm, that did taste interesting. Aron kissed him quick, and then made a gesture for him to have a sip.
"You're not drinking," Carter pointed out.
"Maybe later," Aron said, his eyes smiling. "Now I want you just to relax a bit. And don't worry, I won't have you drink an entire bottle. I still expect you to ... perform."
Perform. Right. Okay.
But Aron didn't allow him more than a couple of sips. He just took the glass away and started again to kiss Carter. This time, he began pushing the robe away, and soon they were entangled in a hot embrace.
Carter knew he only had to open his legs wider, and Aron could just sit comfortably on top and ... Well, their erections were touching. Nice. And he did feel a bit more relaxed.
"How do you want me?" Aron asked, still caressing Carter's chest slowly.
He was slow, slow, slow, tonight.
"On my fours?" Aron accompanied his new question with a new kiss.
"Oh, no," Carter replied alarmed. "Your ass is too sexy. I'll come before I'll even be in."
"Wow, have you stared at my ass a lot, then?" Aron pinched one nipple, making Carter grunt.
"Enough to know I don't stand a chance," Carter said in turn.
"Okay, then, the missionary position?" Aron continued his inquiry.
"Those missionaries really thought they weren't kinky by doing it from the front?" Carter wondered out loud. "I mean, all the animals do it from behind, I mean, most of them, and humans are still animals, so, by all means, we're the perverted ones because ..."
"Shut up and fuck me," Aron pressed his lips against his mouth again.
Okay. He could do it. He had imagined it so many times, how it would be, now that he was himself again. So he needed to just roll Aron over and be on top, right?
"I think I know how to do it, just so that you don't have to worry taking after the perverted ways of the missionaries," Aron spoke, half laughing.
Wow, Carter thought, as Aron straddle him fast, and sat upright while resting that delicious cleft of his ass right on top of Carter's hard cock.
"Leave it all to me," Aron said gently while moving only so that he could reach for the nightstand.
Carter closed his eyes. He knew, by the way Aron moved on top of him, that the guy was taking care of lubing himself now, and he also knew that he wasn't going to do a good job at controlling himself if he was going to watch. Maybe another time. Another time definitely. He wanted to see that.
Aron moved only so that he could grab Carter's erection – great, it was, after all, a good thing that his cock had a mind of his own, and was still standing proud – and pour plenty of lube on it, too.
But the guy's hands were too skillful, moving up and down like that. He wanted him to stop. Or go faster. No, he still needed to perform.
"Oh, fuck," he half-whispered, half-groaned, as Aron adjusted himself so he could descend on Carter's cock.
"Open your eyes," Aron demanded.
Carter obeyed, and Aron took one of his hands to guide it at the back.
"You're damn big," Aron smiled, and his smug grin was faltering a little, the corners of his lips twitching.
"Sorry," Carter mumbled.
"Okay, so rule number one in gay sex," Aron chuckled. "Don't apologize for having a big dick."
"Really?" Carter glared. "Maybe not all guys like that."
"Most do," Aron replied. "Well, or maybe just ... I like the way your cock feels inside me," he added and leaned in for another kiss.
It was a good thing that he was so distracted by the playful tongue in his mouth because he didn't exactly notice when Aron began to move. Ah, it was so good, but he didn't want to let go of Aron's mouth, either.
And he wanted to touch, to feel everywhere. Which was easy, because, from this position, he could grab Aron's sexy ass with both hands, and help the guy move. Not that the guy needed any help. He surely knew how to do that, making Carter's dick want to do a little happy dance, only that the fucker was clearly too busy being grabbed and squeezed and rubbed by a damn fine channel of tight muscles to give a damn about anything else in the universe right now.
"Oh, fuck, right there," Aron encouraged him.
What? Was he doing something good? But wasn't Aron in charge? Oh, it seemed that he was actually guiding the guy's moves by using his hands. He was groping Aron's buttocks, kneading them, and suddenly, Aron pushed himself up and began stroking his dick fast.
"You're so ..." Carter gulped, feeling too much, too soon.
Sexy? Beautiful? Handsome? Amazing?
Hot droplets began pelting his chest and abdomen as Aron exploded, arching his back and clamping down hard on Carter's cock. Ah, at least he could no longer worry about coming too fast.
Because that was exactly what he was doing right that moment, filling Aron's ass, or at least, hoping that was what he was doing because it was too hot and too tight, and his cock couldn't take it anymore.
Aron moved and crashed by his side, breathing hard.
"Fuck," the man said and covered his face with one arm.
"Um, did I ... suck big time?" Carter asked, his breath ragged, just the same.
"You're kidding me, right?" Aron let down his arm and turned his head to watch him in the eyes. "Tell me, have you really not done it before? With other guys?"
"You practically did all the work," Carter tried to reason with his friend. "And only you. You're the only one."
Technically, not a lie.
Glad we're on the same page.
"I should be the one asking how it was, but ... I think I have an ass full of cum that tells me how it all went down on your part, too," Aron joked. "Now I should ask for a repeat performance because I think I was the one who didn't manage to hold it in enough."
"No, you did well," Carter protested. "I mean it was good. Awesome. I want to. A repeat performance."
You know there are more neurons in here than just one. How about you use them to put together longer strings of words?
Shut up. I'm nervous!
He liked it. Just face it already.
"You were great," Aron chuckled. "And I am definitely glad that you haven't run away just yet."
Carter pushed himself up on one elbow and turned toward Aron.
"I'm not running away."
"So glad to hear it," Aron whispered, sneaking one arm to grab Carter and pull him into a kiss again. "But forgive me, while some of my blood, along with other things, return to my head, I need to ask. Why now?"
"Why now?" Carter mimicked.
"Yes. I mean, I should say, again and again, I'm not complaining. But you could have staved your curiosity, so to speak, with anyone. So maybe the question I'm trying to ask here is why me?"
Carter frowned. Oh, fuck. How the hell was he getting out of this?
"I've always tried new things with you," he said cautiously. "I don't trust anyone else."
"Hmm," Aron seemed to analyze his answer for a few seconds. "So do you like me?"
"Yeah, of course I like you. I've always liked you," Carter said quickly.
"I know. But I don't mean like a friend but like a ..."
"Fuck buddy?" Carter supplied right away.
Aron seemed disappointed. Just for a fleeting moment, because his face warmed up again with a smile.
"Okay, a fuck buddy," the man admitted.
"Yeah, you're the best," Carter replied in all honesty. "You kiss like a devil, you know? Or like an angel. Sorry, I'm getting things all mixed up. Which one would mean better?"
"I'll take it," Aron said quickly. "I'll take the compliment. What else do you like about me?"
Too simple. Try being, you know, a bit less like how you usually are.
What do you mean like I usually am?
Blunt and uninteresting.
Well, his brain had a point. But there was just so much he wanted to say, and the words were now trying to push all through his mouth at the same time. This wasn't going to work. So, with a sigh, he put one hand on Aron's shoulder and he began contouring the beautiful shape.
"This," he said, his voice strained.
His fingers went lower, taking in the biceps, caressing the inside of the elbow, then brushing against a firm pec.
"And this," his voice went deeper.
It was nice to feel Aron's washboard abs next. His fingers searched and found purchase in the black hair above Aron's sex, now semi-dormant.
"And this," his voice quieter now.
When his hand wrapped firmly around Aron's cock, now lengthening under his touch, the man pulled him close again.
"You like my body?" Aron asked, and his voice was just as strained, and deep, and quiet.
"No, I mean not only. You," Carter said. "Inside and outside. Wow, that sounded stupid!"
Wow, you just said that out loud!
"No," Aron contradicted him in a solemn tone. "Not stupid at all."
"Do you want to fuck me?" Carter asked, too nervous to admit what that silent intimacy meant.
"I thought tonight it would be only about you on top. You know, getting adjusted to sitting in the saddle."
"I'd rather be the one mounted," Carter admitted.
Damn, he was just saying stupid thing after stupid thing. Soon enough, Aron was just going to start laughing at his stupidity. But no, Aron had never laughed at him. Not in a way that would make him feel bad.
He wasn't laughing now either. His intense gaze was once more on Carter, and that was not the only thing on him. The man straddled him, making him sink into the plush bedding.
"You sure?" Aron cooed, pushing himself between Carter's legs. "I might subject you to the perversity of the missionary position again."
"Ha, ha, funny," Carter said dryly. "How about, you know, from behind?"
"I don't know," Aron pretended to ponder. "What if I find your ass too sexy and I come in five seconds?"
Carter made a long face.
"Just joking. I told you; you were great. Actually, no, you were perfect. So, come on, present your sexy rump so I can mount you."
Aron was always playing into his jokes, had ever been since they were kids. Yeah, they were always laughing together. Maybe that was some secret-secret of their friendship.
"All right," he tried to sound cool, but his heart was starting to beat fast again.
Aron coaxed him into position, and, for what seemed like minutes, he caressed Carter's back and ass, making sure to pour plenty of lube down the crack and massaging the muscles outside and inside the hole.
"Do you like, you know, smooth guys?" Carter found himself talking.
Aron's hands stopped.
"You're asking because of Alex?"
"Well, I bet he has no hair on that twink body," Carter replied.
"Don't worry," Aron said lightly. "He has nothing on you."
"Ah, good. Waxing sucks. I mean, it must suck," Carter said quickly.
"Have you considered it then? For my sake?" Aron sounded amused.
"Well, a little. Maybe."
Aron laughed, and Carter snickered, too. Something that was brought right to a halt by a blunt thing at his backside. He sucked in a breath.
"Relax, it's not the first time, after all," Aron said softly. "And I'll go as slow as I can."
Ugh, wow, damn, Carter's mind was going in circles again. The man was endowed, what could he say? And, as much as he wanted to claim that it was going to be easier than the previous time, it didn't look like his behind was agreeing that much with him.
But Aron knew how to worm his way in, slowly, without losing his concentration, while making sure to distract Carter by playing with his nipples and peppering small kisses on his neck.
"Wow, you're in?" Carter wondered when he felt Aron's wiry pubic hair tickling his behind.
"Sure am," Aron said cheerfully. "Ready?"
"When you are," Carter shot back.
He mumbled and buried his head into the pillow. Aron began moving, slowly at first, allowing him more time for adjusting.
"Your ass is really sexy," Aron praised him and caressed his buttocks, higher and higher, until his hands were wrapped around Carter's sides, holding him in place.
Not that he was going to run anywhere. He moved his hips to meet Aron's slow thrusts, growing impatient.
"You can take me hard," Carter said over his shoulder.
"You're basically almost still an ass virgin," Aron replied.
"Am not," Carter protested. "Fuck me."
"You don't have to ask me twice," Aron said back and this time, he moved amply, going straight for Carter's bud of pleasure and hitting it with the force of a hammer.
"Oh, fuck, yes," Carter moaned. "Do it again."
Aron remained silent and instead of wasting time talking, he began pounding Carter's ass hard. He could tell the man was no longer holding back. The waves of pleasure were growing, a tide that never ended, making all his nerve endings combust in ecstasy.
"I love the way you fuck me," he said, breath by breath, word by word, and Aron's moves became more frantic.
He could feel one of Aron's hand sneaking underneath and grabbing his cock. He moved between the steel hand giving him the best handjob of his life and the steel cock penetrating his hole, helping as much as he could.
"Coming, coming, coming," he mumbled like a mantra.
Aron's breath became deeper and harsher as the man drove him to his orgasm. Through the haze of his release, he noticed how Aron continued fucking him, using his body to reach his own climax and realized how complete that made him feel.
When Aron drew away, he could feel something pouring out of his ass. The man really came a lot, and it was the strangest satisfaction to feel that. He reached back and played a little with the jizz inside his hole. Yeah, it was definitely nice.
"Stop doing that. I cannot get hard again so fast," Aron joked and slapped one of the buttocks still nicely presenting.
"Hey," Carter protested feebly, "you're into spanking, too?"
Aron reached him and turned his head to kiss him.
"Come on, cry baby. That couldn't have hurt."
"Not really, no," Carter agreed.
He just wanted to fall asleep now. Aron pulled him into his arms.
"I should get up, right?" Carter murmured. "Let you get some sleep this night. And I'll drop by your folks to get Taz in the morning."
"Hush, you're too sleepy. You stay here tonight."
It wasn't like he had it in him to protest. And the bed was so, so nice.
Ah, he felt like an extra in a zombie movie when he woke up. His body hurt, but not bad-bad, but good-good and his head was still all fuzzy, but eventually, he realized where he was.
"Rise and shine," Aron grinned at him. "Come on, go hit the shower and then join me for breakfast."
Carter took a look at the tray with all kinds of tasty foods on it, and his stomach growled. All right. Shower. Food. Kiss Aron.
Tell him you love him.
Shut up. It's too early. And what if he replies something like: Ah, that's nice?
He probably took a bit too long with the shower, because Aron came to knock on the door.
"Coming!" he yelled.
Aron opened the door anyway.
"Nice hearing you say that again," the man grinned. "Here, let me take care of you."
Aron was an expert at many things, including toweling Carter's body and draping it in a robe again.
"Don't be worried about Taz," Aron spoke, minutes later, when they were enjoying their breakfast. "I bet he had a great time with mom and dad."
"I'm not worried," Carter sipped from his orange juice.
I am worried this was a one-time thing.
So do something.
Half an hour later, when they were riding in Aron's car toward the guy's folks' place, he still had zero ideas.
Aron's parents sent them on their way with a lot of food for Carter's fridge, and a very happy Taz that seemed to have enjoyed his little adventure away from home.
Time was such a funny thing. Carter was certain some mythical animal must have swallowed the next 20 minutes needed to navigate the city to his place. Aron helped him upstairs to his apartment, seeing how much food he had to haul.
"Well," Aron said with a small smile, as soon as everything was in the fridge and Taz was happily claiming back his bed and toys. "I should get going."
"How about you stay?" Carter said, feeling desperation creeping in.
Aron looked at him, his car keys in one hand, unsure probably of what Carter wanted to say with that plea. Of course, it had been nothing but a one night stand, and now they were back to being buddies. Only that about the same words escaped his mouth once more.
"Please stay," he said again.
"Here?" Aron asked, eventually, looking around a bit disoriented.
"Yeah. I know. It's a shoe box. But my bed is a queen. I think. And there's plenty of food. And you don't have to pay for that fancy hotel. The people are nice, I know, but they had you enough."
And I didn't have you enough.
He waited, his whole body tense. What was he thinking? That was no place for a guest, especially Aron. The guy was used to posh hotels and houses with a backyard and a basketball hoop and ...
"Okay. When should I move in?" Aron asked promptly.
"Ah, what? You're saying yes?" Carter asked in unhidden surprise.
"Sure thing that's what I'm saying," Aron said with conviction.
"Then how about now?" Carter said, feeling his heart filling slowly to the point of bursting.
"I have to bring my stuff," Aron explained.
"Of course!" Carter almost shouted. "Well, it's going to be cramped, and I guess you'll search for a place, but until then, you should not just stay there, alone ..."
"Definitely. You have a pretty strong case," Aron smiled. "Just give me an hour or so."
"I might be out, walking Taz a little. You still have the keys, right?"
"Of course I do," Aron smiled again.
"Good. Great," Carter nodded energetically.
He was so busy dealing with his inward excitement that he failed to notice Aron moving close and pulling him into a hug.
"So happy to be your roomie," Aron whispered into his ear.
Buddies. Fuck buddies. Roomies. Was that a good progression or what?
If you like this story and you want to support me while writing it, here is my Patreon account:
My patrons receive early access to chapters, complete books, and other nice extras.
The latest book I'm offering all my patrons is this: