“Come on now,” he grumbles when I do nothing more than just wash him. And when I crouch down and wash his legs, he leans his head back and moans loudly in protest.
I could pull his dick into my mouth, but I don’t.
Instead, I stand and tell him to rinse off.
He pouts at that, but does as I say, the suds slipping from his skin.
I watch it all, my dick fully hard from the sight. My hands run the lather over my body, cleaning myself as I let my eyes take him in. It’s a sight. Like a fucking model. Like a porno.
People would pay to see this.
When he’s done, he wets his lips. “Now it’s my turn.”
He runs a hand through his wet hair, and I sigh, realizing he got his stitches wet. But he’s not worried about it. That’s clear when he holds out his hand and wiggles his fingers a little.
“Soap.”
“I’m halfway done already,” I reply, but it doesn’t deter him. He wants to do this, and really, who am I to say no?
“Now, Whit. Don’t rob me of this. I’ve wanted you naked for like adecade. You, wet and naked, is in the top five hottest things I’ve ever seen. Let me touch you.”
My chest tightens, my cock aching. I never imagined anyone would ever say that about me. I know objectively, while wearing clothes, I can be attractive, but underneath… That’s where all my secrets lie.
And despite them, despite the ugliness, he wants me.
I set the soap into his palm, and he spends far too much time rubbing the lather over me, making me shiver, his touch a firebrand to my chest.
When he fists my cock and strokes, my chin hits my chest, watching how well he strokes me. The way he looks wrapped around me is erotic.
“God, you’re so fucking hot, dude,” he says.
I meet his sincere stare, and his tongue peeks out and wets his lips. He shifts me slightly, putting me under the stream of water, the suds rolling down my skin and swirling down the drain.
And when I’m nothing more than wet and shuddering, he falls to his knees and takes me into his mouth, bringing me over the edge in a matter of minutes.
With wet eyelashes, he meets my gaze, cum lingering on his lips. My thumb drags along the bottom one, and he sucks my finger into his mouth, groaning around it.
And I know in that moment, I’m so fucking fucked.
“I’d prefer you naked,” Caleb says as I pull on a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of black track pants. He’s only wearing sweatpants and nothing more. Not even underwear. I know because he made sure I noticed.
“I would rather not.”
His bottom lip sticks out, and I stare at it, trying like hell not to lean forward and suck it into my mouth and bite. Instead, I fist my hands near my sides and stride into the other room, settling on the couch.
Caleb trots along beside me, and as soon as my legs spread, hecrawls between them and lies on top of me. As he settles, he rucks my shirt up, exposing my torso and resting his face on my bare skin.
“Mmm. Better,” he mutters, his hands sliding up my sides and holding me to him.
“You’re ridiculous,” I say as I slip my hands through his hair and turn on the TV. It plays low in the background as I pick up my Kindle and start reading. My eyes barely scan the words when he murmurs, “What we doing this weekend?”
He punctuates the last word with a nip on my nipple.
I hiss at the sensation and pinch the back of his neck I was just massaging.
“Behave.”
He does it again, so I tug on his hair roughly. “You are seriously like a child.”