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I gulped and kept my eyes fixed forward, as if the bare corridor walls were super interesting. I kept trying to think of something to say to fill the silence, but my mind had gone weirdly blank. Almost like I was nervous or something. But that couldn’t be right—I usually did the opposite of go quiet when I was nervous. I rambled.
Suddenly, it clicked. I’d missed my morning jerk sesh. That explained why I had such a stiffie just from walking beside Seb, and why I couldn’t think of anything to say, and why I was all jittery. My balls were too full. Everyone knew there was a direct link between the brain and the balls.
When Seb opened the door for me, I ducked my head and shuffled inside, my gut bottoming out with… something. This felt kind of naughty. Like we were sneaking off to do something we shouldn’t. When I heard Seb close the door behind him, it happened again. I exhaled slowly, my belly fizzing.
“Looks nice,” Seb commented in his typical flat tone. I peeked over to see him leaning against the door with his arms crossed. When our eyes met, heat flooded my cheeks.
“Y-yeah.” My voice cracked. I cleared my throat and gestured at the desk, keeping my front angled away from him so he wouldn’t see my throbbing boner. “Nice… pens.”
“Think Taylor will like it?”
A weird mix of disappointment and nervous anticipation made me want to squirm. Had he brought me in here for another lesson, or literally just to look at the office and get away while Holt and Taylor had wild quitting sex? I couldn’t tell, and it was making me tense.
“Don’t see why he wouldn’t.” I sounded a little stiff. “Another room for him and Holt to fuck in.”
He huffed in amusement. “I’m surprised Holt didn’t just order a futon for in here.”
A smile tilted my lips, and when I glanced over at him and he shot me a brief grin like the one he’d given me last night, some of the tension eased from me, allowing me to laugh.
“Yeah, or a sex swing.”
“A set of stocks.”
Another dorky, snorty laugh gurgled out of me. “Or one of those fuck machines. You know, with the dildo on the end.”
Seb’s brows rose slightly, as if he was surprised I knew about that. I flushed and said, “I have varied jack-off material taste, okay?”
His mouth twitched. “Alright. Nothing wrong with variety.”
We lapsed into silence. I couldn’t tell if he found it as loaded and awkward as I did, because he was still leaning casually against the door with his arms crossed. But he was watching me. Kind of intensely. Or maybe it just felt intense, because his eyes were… looking darker, more like maple syrup than honey, and I realised with another swooping sensation in my belly that the same thing had happened to them last night.
“Maybe that can be lesson two,” he suddenly rasped, still watching me.
I froze, jittery fear and excitement streaking through me. “Wh-what? The fuck machine?” I asked in mild alarm.
His lips curved up into a tiny, crooked smile that made my cock twitch eagerly. “No, not that. Talking.”
I stared at him in disbelief. And disappointment. He wanted to talk? “About what?”
“An important part of being sexually active is being able to talk about it, Larkin. About what you want and what your partners want, and more importantly, what you definitely don’t want. Like I said last night, if you feel mature enough to do this stuff, you should be mature enough to talk about it.”
A flash of indignance drew my brows together and made my wings snap out wide. Was he saying I wasn’t mature? I was, like, so mature. I was pretty sure I was more mature than Holt, at least. I’d seen that dick-themed colouring book in his desk drawer.
I’d maybe coloured in a couple myself while he’d been off doing something else.
“I can talk about it, dude,” I said defensively, with far more confidence than I felt. “I’ll talk about whatever you want. Go ahead. Ask me anything.”
“Alright.” He shifted slightly against the door, eyeing me with mild curiosity. “When you imagine yourself having sex with someone, what role do you tend to take?”
“Um…” I fidgeted, starting to sweat a little. “An… active one?”
He huffed in amusement. “Right. But are you more dominant? More submissive? Does it vary?”
Shit, he wasn’t kidding. He actually wanted to talk. Sighing, saying a silent apology to my throbbing dick for getting it all worked up for no reason, I shuffled back to perch on the edge of Taylor’s new desk. If I hunched over enough, maybe he wouldn’t see my giant boner.
“I don’t… know,” I admitted. “It’s kind of hard to know for sure when I’ve never done it.”
“That’s fair,” he said calmly, before his throat bobbed and his tongue darted out to swipe over his lips. “Well, do you like the thought of… being in control? Telling your partner what to do and taking charge during sex?”
