"Any requests for tonight?"
He bites his lip but shakes his head 'no'.
"Alright," I say, smiling, and watch as his eyes dip to my lips. I should be self-conscious about smiling and about how much I enjoy him, but I'm not. His return smile is blinding, and ittakes the breath from my lungs for a moment. I want to test his boundaries, but not push them. I want to see exactly where he's comfortable being "gay" and where he's not. He was fine with penetration last time, but what about something more intimate? What about kissing? Or holding hands?
I wrap my hand around his ankle and wait for a response. The smile on his face fractures slightly as his pupils dilate. I drag my hand, tentatively, up the inside of his calf slowly, letting the soft hair of his leg tickle my palm. When I reach his knee, I check in with him.
"Green," he says before I even need to ask.
I press both of his knees gently down onto the mattress so his legs are straight.
I straddle his thighs and slide my forefinger under the band created by his towel. I raise an eyebrow at him, asking permission.
"Green."
"Good boy."
He blushes furiously, and I watch as his Adam's apple bobs on a nervous swallow. He likes my praise. My chest warms. I love that he wants to be my "good boy". An ironic chuckle falls from my lips.
"What?" he asks, his hand coming to mine to stop me from unwrapping him like a present. The towel is currently tented, and I marinate in satisfaction.
I lean back, not giving him my full weight, but leveling him with the attention he deserves. His blue eyes are wary, but he's not running for the door.
"If you had told high-school-Trey that grown-up-Gareth would like being called my 'good boy,' I would've thought you were lying."
His shoulders relax again when he realizes I'm not making fun of him. His smile returns, this time contemplative, and he gives me a chuckle of his own.
"Nah. If you'd told high-school-Gareth that he'd like being your 'good boy', I would've believed it."
His confession is quiet, whispered, and so goddamn honest that it hits me in my chest. He confessed that he was attracted to me in high school during the first dinner, but hearing his quiet confession now hits me on a different level.
Now, I can see it written all over his face.
"Color?" I ask quietly, the past, the present, the lust, and the hurt hanging between us like a physical thing.
"Green," he replies, releasing my hand but leaving his gaze on the towel.
I slowly undo the towel, letting it drop open and exposing every inch of him.
"Is it... am I..." he stutters, biting on his lower lip again. He fidgets uncomfortably on the sheets.
Sweet, insecure man. I let my gaze fall from his eyes to his lips, down the five o'clock shadow on his neck, to his broad chest, thick biceps, taking my time to really soak in the details. I drag my gaze down his chest, the softness of his stomach, the light brown happy trail, and to his lower stomach, where his hard cock has sprung up to rest against his belly..
I can find something to be attracted to with all of my clients, but it's no difficulty being attracted to Gareth. He's objectively a handsome man.
"Gorgeous," I conclude, bringing my eyes back up to his, so he can see the sincerity there.
He swallows again, his eyes shining and hopeful. "Yeah?"
My lips tilt up in a lopsided grin. "You know you're hot," I tease, trying to lighten the mood.
"I want to be hot for you," he whispers.
A warning flag goes off in the back of my mind, but I push it aside. He paid for this session, so I'm going to give him the best service I can.
I flatten my palm and let it glide up the underside of his cock. He hisses out a breath between his teeth, and his cock jumps beneath my palm. I have a list of things I'd like to do with him tonight to slowly get him comfortable with a man's touch, but I am always willing to change the plan if he's uncomfortable.
I wrap my hand slowly around the length of him and give him a squeeze, checking in with his eyes. There's a little trepidation there, so I check in verbally.