Rory and Sebastian Ch. 06

I traced my hand down to fondle his ass and support him, when his feet lifted off the ground slightly. I whispered twice, 'You're so beautiful, Rory. You've no idea how beautiful you are right now.' His eyes were closed as he spouted into my hand – big, thick torrents of ejaculate. That collided into my stomach, landed slightly on his, hit my balls and ran through my hands. When he'd stopped, he didn't cave into my arms, like I'd expected him to. Instead, he kept his eyes closed, took a deep breath and laid his head back against the door.

When he opened his eyes, I was staring at him, smirking. He tried to reach for the phone table where his sweater was hanging. 'Oh, no you don't,' I ruled. I pressed him back up against the door, our naked stomachs pressed against each other and we felt his cum squelch between us. Our softening dicks nuzzled into together and I wrapped my arms around his waist. 'Too late now, Rory.'

'Give me my sweater, asshole,' he commanded, trying to keep his tone light. 'It's over.'

'No,' I said. 'I'm bigger than you, I'm stronger than you and I'm not giving it back. I wanna perv on you for a bit.' I nuzzled in and kissed his neck, softly. 'Take my boots off, I really need a shower.'

He got down to my feet and prized my riding boots off, as I held onto the door handle for support. I noticed that he tried to keep his hand across his stomach, but couldn't maintain it because he needed both hands to get the boots off. 'I didn't know sweaty cowboys turned you on this much,' I teased.

'Oh yeah, you're so cowboy in your Ralph Lauren and your jodhpurs, Sebastian. It's practically like being in the original Wild West.'

'Didn't hear you complaining when you were slobbering up and down on my dick like it was a popsicle stick in the middle of July.'

He looked up at me and rolled his eyes. The final boot came off and he got to his feet. He tried to put his hand back to shielding his stomach. 'No,' I said, pulling it away and stepping back in. 'No, Rory. I just spunked in your mouth and molested the fuck out of you in the middle of your parents' entrance hall. The time for dignity is past. Right, which shower should I use?'

'My one,' he said. 'There should be towels up there. I'll go up after you. I probably need one now, too,' he said, gesturing ruefully at his cum-splattered physique.

'After me?' I asked, sarcastically. 'No, no. With me.' He opened his mouth to make a wise-ass comeback, but before he could I hoisted him up over my shoulder and began walking up his stairway.

'Sebastian, I am serious, stop this! I am not... Sebastian, please. Put me down.'

'I've already seen you naked, Rory,' I laughed, 'and I might want blown again in the shower. Shut the fuck up.' I pulled his socks, trousers and underwear off him as we walked, littering them on the stairs. 'By the way, when are your parents back? I may need to clean this up. Mightn't make too good an impression if they find all this when they come home.'

He paused and stopped struggling. 'Hey, Ror-Ror,' I said, slapping his ass, 'when are they back?'

'They're not. They're at Aunty Sarah's for the night.'

'And when were you going to tell me this?'

'Later.'

'Oh, Rory,' I laughed throatily, 'there's going to be so much cum in this house tonight.'

I deposited him on the floor of his bedroom and opened the door to his en-suite. 'C'mon, then,' I gestured, clicking my fingers and pointing at the bathroom. 'You've a nice dick,' I complimented. 'And put your arms across our stomach one more time and I'll fucking break them, Rory.'

I pulled my jodhpurs and boxers down, fluffing my dick and balls a little. 'Right, baby, let's go. First shower together.'

He walked past me, eyeing me the whole time. He was smiling slightly, as if to say, 'Fuck you, asshole, you've won this round.' And he was blushing, because he was naked. I pulled two towels off the rack, and nudged him into the shower. I turned it on and the shower hit us both. He had a nice shower; a really big one. And the water cascaded over us. He grimaced slightly and squealed as the water hit him. It was cute. I tossed him the shower gel: 'Do my back for me,' I asked, turning away from him.

He squirted the gel into his hands and began lathering up my back. Robbie had been right; his hang-ups were, in no way, modesty related. He didn't recoil from, or object to, my nudity in any way. It was entirely self-centered, in the least selfish possible way; what he did to himself. It wasn't through modesty; Robbie knew him too well. Robbie had said that Rory hadn't taken his t-shirt off when they slept over together, but he hadn't objected to Robbie doing it. If he'd been naturally prudish, he would have. But he wasn't. His hands coiled gently down my back, applying exactly the right kind of pleasure. It was fucking blissful. I curse like an Irishman, by the way; I know.

'So, why didn't you tell me your parents weren't going to be here tonight?' I asked. I tried to keep the nerves out of my voice, but it had just occurred to me that he might have deliberately kept the information from me. Given what had just happened downstairs, I hadn't initially considered the possibility that maybe he didn't want us sharing a bed. Maybe I shouldn't have said that cum comment? 'I can go, honestly, Rory, if you'd rather or if it'd get you in trouble.'

He kept washing me and his hands moved, caressingly, down to my ass cheeks again. 'No, it wasn't that,' he said, honestly. 'It was just that I didn't know how fast things were moving between us. I didn't think this was going to happen. Or that,' he continued, in reference to downstairs 'I don't know what came over me when I saw you. But, I'd like you to stay.' He finished washing my ass cheeks; his hands stopped. 'Please stay?' he asked, softly. Meekly. He kissed my shoulder.

'Of course I'll stay,' I answered. 'One condition. Okay, two.'

'What?' he asked. He was amused; we were playing again.

'You sleep naked with me tonight,' I declared. 'And you blow me in the morning. Then cook me breakfast.' I glanced over my shoulder and winked at him. 'I know that's three, but I'm sexy and you'll do it.'

'Sleep naked?'

'Yep.'

He paused, then swallowed. 'Okay. Deal.'

'Do my legs,' I commanded. He slid to his knees and lathered up legs. He washed them thoroughly and then I turned to face him. I raised my eyebrows and he nodded, conceding defeat. Acknowledging that he knew what was coming next. He passed over the shower gel and I washed him. I wish I could say I washed away the last of his neuroses, but of course I didn't. There were still instinctive recoils; momentary flinches. They'd keep up, one way or the other and from time to time, for years. But I kept my hand on him, teased him, talked to him, showered him and tugged on his semi. We dried ourselves off outside in the bathroom, except his hair – I dried that. Looming over him; it felt like I was looming, even though I was only three inches taller. And I kept talking the whole time. He was looking up at me with these big, calf-like saucers. He adored me and trusted me. There was, for the rest of that whole night, no guard up from him whatsoever. And I loved him; I knew that.

*

Twenty minutes later, I walked into the kitchen, topless and wearing sweatpants. I pulled a beer from his fridge and watched as he cooked us dinner. He had a t-shirt on and sweats, too. I kissed the back of his neck and hopped up on the island, watching him. 'Are you virgin?' I asked, bluntly. I wanted to know.

'Like a proper one?' he asked.

'Yeah. Asshole,' I clarified.

'Yes,' he answered, flushing slightly. 'I'm not a slut, despite what I just...'

'How was that slutty, Rory? I'm your boyfriend. If you think it's slutty every time you end up with my cum on you, you're going to have a pretty unhappy life.'

He laughed. There was a pause. 'Sebastian.'

'What?'

He didn't say anything more. He opened his mouth, stopped, then shrugged and focused with excessive interest on his cooking.

'I love you too, Rory,' I said.

He spun round. 'What?'

'That's what you wanted to say, isn't it?' I asked. My tone was matter-of-fact. I knew him. I knew he'd bottled out, but that he wanted to say it. That he meant it. But thought it was too soon.

He nodded. The spatula was still in his hand, but he'd forgotten his task. There was no elegance in him again; he just looked big-eyed and lost. I hopped down and walked over. 'Rory, I've never said it to anyone before, either. I love you. Okay?' I kissed him on the nose. 'I love you so fucking much. You think it's weird we're saying this too soon? Fuck it. We don't have to tell anyone else we've said it. It doesn't matter what anyone else says or thinks; this is just us. It's just between us. Our business; our relationship. Right?' He nodded and his free hand trailed entreatingly over my chest. I kept talking: 'Rory, you think this is all too soon and that you can't believe you did what you did in the hallway. Don't be stupid. I looked down at you, slobbering up and down on my dick and you know what I thought? I thought, "Fuck me, my boyfriend is incredible." I love you, Rory, all of you. When you have your shit together and when you don't. Less so when you're being a little bitch, but other than that, you're perfect. Almost as perfect as me. Which is something!'

He smiled and bit his lip. 'I love you, too,' he said.

'I know. Duh.'

'Well, I thought I should at least say it, Sebastian!' he shot back. I laughed at him. 'I've given head before,' he said. 'Just to be clear.'

'That's so weird, baby, considering how timid you were in the hallway.' I slapped his ass and then grabbed him as he cooked, pulled his collar down a bit and landed a hickey on the back of his right shoulder.

*

That night, I sucked him off for the first time, too. After dinner, we went into his den and watched a truly shiteous Scarlett Johansson movie. He was lying down and I was resting my head on his stomach. (How's that for progress?) I began kissing it, then trailed down and went to town on his dick. He tasted nice; freshly washed, obviously, but sizeable and a little salty. He had nice balls and dark pubis. He kept a firm grip on my head towards the end and didn't warn me when he was going to cum. He just sprayed in my mouth. I drank it all down. I liked him like that – a little butch, a little domineering. It was sexy. I crawled up after, when it was over, and kissed him on the mouth. He accepted it, although I'd swallowed his cum. I put my head on his chest and closed my eyes for a minute. He gently stroked my hair and kept watching the movie. Later, up in his bedroom, he pulled out some baby oil and offered me a massage. I stripped naked and then undressed him. He massaged my back and then my front, tweaking my nipples as he went. He was hard again; the redness of his head pointing angrily to the ceiling. We 69'd each other and I let my tongue flick over his asshole a few times during it.

He lay in my arms that night; there was no light and it was that kind of pitch-blackness that only homes in the countryside, that are far from the main roads, can get. It was nice and soothing. I traced my hands up and down his side and he was too tired, too worn out by all the foreplay, to protest. He'd relaxed. That mood happened to him intermittently, with increasing regularity the longer we were together; so relaxed and at ease with himself, with us, with his body. It gave me an insight into what he might always have been like if, if Robbie was right, that kid had never made the comment to him eight years ago at a kids' football practice.

'Tonight was unexpected,' I chortled in the darkness.

'Well, you were right about the amount of cum,' he rejoined. Still on the ball with wordplay, even when he was half-asleep.

'I'm always right about spunk, baby. It's a skill. You are quite the tiger.' I pulled him closer to me and he wrapped his leg closer into mine. He sighed, softly. I nudged him, just as he dozed off to sleep. 'Don't you forget that blowjob in the morning.'

'Fuck you,' he murmured.

'Oh, that'll come, big boy,' I laughed. 'Don't you worry.'