Page 186 of These Secret Years

Since we’re not properly on the air mattress, more in the center of it, a lot is possible. I have to ask, “A taste of what?”

“Whatever you feel like feeding me.” He’s squeezing my ass cheek as he speaks, so the offer comes across as slightly disingenuous, but fuck if I care. I turn away from him to give him full access, and he takes advantage. With both of us on hands and knees, he feeds himself every private part of me. First my dick, which he pulls between my legs to take short, savoring tastes of, then my balls get a lot of love from his tongue until he’s finally kissing open my hole and licking softly inside.

“Holy shit,” I grunt, dropping to my elbows with gasping breaths.

This never ever gets old. Also because he unlocks some new pleasure center there every time. The desire for more flares deep and ravenously as I press back harder against his face.

His moans of his own enjoyment muffle, but he keeps going, like this was the actual thing he’s been thinking about all day.

“Knight, fuck… Fuck me. Please, I need you to fuck me.”

He runs a hand down my thigh as if to remind me what I said earlier about having all night, but now I’m sweating. I’m so turned on, I’m as hot as the fire outside the tent.

Reaching between myself and the mattress, I take hold of my sticky slick cock, jerking it in firm, steady movements, amplifying everything he’s doing to me as I pant and groan for more.

“Can I fuck you like this?”

“Yes. Yes. Please.”

If there were ever a time to take back this position, it’s now. It’s tonight. It’s with Knight.

Moments later, he’s given my hole its last kiss, and there’s the unmistakable sound of lube opening, wetting his dick, and pushing me open on his fingers. He shoves those fingers in deep, like he’s testing my ability to stay like this.

I don’t need the test, though. I’m so goddamn needy for him, nothing that came before tonight matters even a little. No anxiety bands my chest, no panic lurks at the door. Just pure lust like it’s the only thing I’m made of.

His cock slapping my ass cheek is the next warning, the next test.

“Fucking please,” I nearly shout.

“I love you,” he says.

“I know. I know you do. I love you so fucking much, please, Knight. I need you.”

A nudge, a blinding amount of pressure, and then a moment of pure perfection as he enters me completely. I cry out with how good it feels and reach for the edge of the mattress to better brace myself for what I hope is coming. What I need to come next.

His hand slides firmly up my back, calloused and rough from football games and hours of weight training. It’s unmistakably his hand. He grips my shoulder. “You want me to fuck you like this, baby?”

“Fuck yeah, I do.”

And he does. Knight, the young redshirt freshman I met across a shitty card table. Knight the shy, repressed boy in the woods. Knight, the hometown hero’s son. Knight, the Saginaw High School homecoming king. Knight, the guy who held me crying in a dark tunnel. Knight, the man who wouldn’t let me go no matter how hard I pushed him away. Knight, the survivor who’s teaching me every day how to survive. Knight, my first love. My everything. The shape of infinity. The shape of stars. The shape of secrets and freedom.

The shape of a sound so haunting and beautiful, I’ll forever follow where it leads.

THE END