Sam leaned back slowly on the bed, finishing his fourth bottle of water for the evening and tensing visibly. He crushed the plastic between his freckled hands, capping it and tossing it to the waste basket with a sigh. I watched closely from the foot of the bed as he adjusted his position, getting comfortable for the moment against the pillows. His legs were pulled toward himself, knees knocked. I could just barely see his face above them.
"You sure you're ready to do this?" I asked, tone ever so gentle, and he gave me a brief glance before looking away and nodding.
"Yeah," he murmured, swallowing as he tightened the muscles in his thighs. I made my way over the short foot board and onto the bed. The way his eyes widened as the mattress bounced was a dead giveaway that he was close to his limit. I was sure the extra two cups of water didn't help, either. His toes twitched in his little blue socks, something they often did when he was growing aroused. I found it endearing.
I inched closer, mattress protector crinkling with every movement, and placed my hands on his knees. I gave a light pull, and he opened his legs with a sort of shy reluctance. I took a moment to absorb this rare view of him, open to my taking. Head turned to the side, his bangs fell to cover his eyes. The pale blue shirt he wore rode up just enough to expose a span of his freckled abdomen, swollen by his overly full bladder. His grey jeans clung to the form of his hard on, and his fingers traced patterns on the sheets idly, unsure of what else to do.
With a smug sort of satisfaction, I scooted backward and allowed him to close his legs once more. Then, I told him to lower them to the bed. After a second he did, and I straddled his thighs without hesitance. He looked up at me then, cheeks rosy and lips pursed just slightly. I pushed his shirt up with one hand, balancing myself with the other as I leaned over him. My gaze remained on his expression as I ghosted my nails along his skin, rubbed the tips of my fingers against the bulge in his jeans. He swallowed hard, chest swelling with a breath and eyes flicking shut as I touched him.
"You like that, yeah?" I breathed, and he rolled his hips upward just enough to offer an affirmative. I smiled, tracing his cock with a short stroke of my digits before walking them up to his hardened bladder.
An effeminate sound escaped him as I gave a light push to the area, and he brought a hand up to cover his mouth in embarrassment. I simply pulled it away, tsk-ing as I did. Lips pressing into a thin line, he glanced at me for a quarter of a second before silently rolling his shirt up to his chest and folding it under neatly. Then, his hands returned to his sides.
I leaned in to kiss him, then, and I muttered, "
good boy
..." against his lips. He returned my kisses eagerly, and he choked on a sound in the back of his throat as I groped him again. When I pulled back he sighed, as if disappointed, but his demeanor quickly changed as I rubbed against his bladder with more force than previously.
