Jock Auction Read Online Free PDF Page B

him—break something—if I carried on this rough treatment, but another part of me said that if he wanted to be with a guy, then he needed to be ready for everything that involved.
    “Oh, God…” he muttered, focus lost as I squeezed a hand between our bodies and
    gripped our dicks together, feeling the swollen heads brush against each other. “Yes, I want it. It’s better than anything I could’ve asked for.”
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    I chuckled, feeling him trying to pump his cock through my fist and doing my
    level best to rock in rhythm with him to frustrate his jerking urges. “You didn’t ask, remember? You just kissed me. And now look at us.”
    He did look then. Looked straight into my eyes, one hand cradling the side of my
    face, the other gripping at my ass.
    “Yeah, look at us.” His eyes really were an incredible color, piercing and rich.
    Trails of wet hair streaked down his forehead, and his lips were almost as flushed red as his cheeks. “I want you so bad, Kyle.”
    I answered with my hand on his balls, tugging his dick around so that the tip
    kissed up against the head of my own. We would’ve been sharing precum, I’m sure,
    had the water not been washing it away.
    “You’ve got me, okay?” I told him. I didn’t need to point out the time limits of
    that; I knew he knew, that he understood that this didn’t make us boyfriends or me gay, or that it in fact meant anything more than a couple of guys being curious with each other for a single moment in time.
    We stood that way for a half minute, staring at each other, me gently grinding the swollen heads of our erections against each other.
    “I want to do bad things with you,” he told me, and I wasn’t sure whether he
    meant bad as in morally wrong, against some sort of religious bullshit his parents had fed him growing up, or bad as in superdirty, nasty stuff. I knew what gay guys did together—I’m a jock, yeah, but I’m not stupid—and I wasn’t really up for butt sex, no matter how into the moment I was with Craig.
    “I don’t think I can…y’know,” I started, awkwardly, but he just grinned and
    shook his head. Flecks of water splashed from his shaggy hair and into my face, forcing me to blink back at him.
    “I’m not expecting you to fuck me,” he said, voice low and husky, and I
    instinctively gripped our dicks tighter. “But I bet I can do things that would blow your mind, if you trust me.”
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    Trust. That was a weird one, certainly. I’d trusted Craig first off, and he’d taken advantage of it and kissed me. What we’d done since—what we were doing now—took
    a hell of a lot of trust, though. And when it came down to it, I suppose I did trust him. I felt like, with what he’d told me, why he did what he did, I could believe him when he said he’d respect my limits. A slow smile spread across my face.
    “Blow my mind, eh?”
    He pushed me backward, out of the shower, shutting off the water as we went. I
    grabbed a towel from the rack—tossed Craig one too—and rubbed myself down
    briskly. I could probably have done a more thorough job, but I was more than a little curious about what he had in mind. I was still only partly used to how he watched me, no matter what I was doing. Like he was trying to capture photos in his memory of
    what I looked like, even as I was going through the most mundane routines.
    And then we were back in his room, and he was pulling the towel from where I’d
    wrapped it low around my waist, cocky somehow because I guess I’d given him
    permission to be. My dick was half-hard, sticking straight out from my groin rather than pointing up like it does when I’m totally boned, and he slipped his fingers around it and licked his lips, guided me back toward the bed.
    I sat down on the edge, Craig’s own cock—far harder than mine and still
    impressive in its length—bobbed in front of me, and I gave it a playful swat to make it bob and wave. Maybe I should’ve bent