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“Onward,” he says, gesturing toward the closet. “I left it on the dresser. You can’t miss it.”
Hopping off the bed, making sure that he doesn’t catch a glimpse of my front, I disappear into the large walk-in closet. The first thing I notice is that my side of it is still empty. He’s left room for me in here, and it warms my heart.
But then my eyes settle on the little strip of fabric lying on top of the dresser, and I huff out a laugh.
“Cooper, what the fuck is this?”
I pick it up and stare at it. It’s a lace jock strap. And that’s using the term lightly. There’s barely any fabric.
“Come on, babe. Try it on. Your husband wants to see it.”
I shouldn’t do it. I bet he doesn’t think I will. And for some reason, that makes me want to do it all the more. I want to surprise him.
With a few flicks of my wrist, I’m naked and the lace jock strap is covering my semi-hard cock. Nothing is covering my ass though.
I stare down and see my dick pressing out and filling the fabric nicely. Has good stretch, I’ll give it that.
“Oh, come on, Matthew. Don’t be such a?—”
I step out of the closet and for the first time, I see Coop’s mouth drop open. Completely wordless.
A smirk pulls my lips up, loving the response I’m getting from him.
I fucking win, I think as I run my hands up my chest and into my hair, making Coop shift on the bed and start to pant.
“Oh my god,” he whispers as I turn around and show him my ass, just a peek, before I stalk toward him.
His cheeks are red, his chest heaving, that bit of fabric on his chest moving up and down as I approach.
“You didn’t think I’d do it, did you?” I ask as I stop in front of him.
I do not look at his hard dick which is straining up from his panties. No, I keep my eyes on his.
“You thought I’d chicken out.”
“Yes,” he gasps. And I decide to play this game all the way to the finish.
My legs come up and I straddle him, crawling into his space and making him fall back on the bed. His eyes are wide, his cheeks pink as I hover over him. Our dicks are both hard but neither of us pays any mind to those. No, we just stare intently into each other’s eyes. My hair falls down into my face, and Coop reaches up and pushes it back, his hand resting gently against my cheek as he does.
My eyelids flutter, my heart rate tripling.
“You look so hot right now,” Coop says gently, his thumb stroking across my cheekbone.
“I always look hot,” I bite back, but there’s no venom in those words, just teasing. A gentle, soft thing spoken between friends.
“Yeah, you do. You’re a gay man’s wet dream.”
“Any gay man, or yours?” I can’t help but ask, my words and thoughts no longer my own. No, for now, Coop owns them. He owns me. I can’t look away, can’t force myself to move. So I just hover over him, staring down into his beautiful eyes.
And that’s what they are. They’re beautiful. Shining, as if they know more than they should. As if he knows me better than I know myself.
His hand slides from my face to my shoulder, tugging gently and pulling me down against him. Our groins and abdomens are pressed together. I can feel his hard length against me, as I’m sure he can feel mine.
Coop lets out a breathy moan, something that shoots through me, down my spine, and into my balls.
His hips arch up, and I let out a small gasp, needing that friction more than I thought. I want more. More.
“Yes,” Coop says, his fingers sliding down my back to my ass, grabbing those fleshy globes and pulling.
