Page 22 of Muscle Cub

My ex had usually fallen asleep right after we’d finished. I’d always wanted him to stay, but he’d rouse after dozing for fifteen or twenty minutes, dress in a hurry, and flee my dorm room before anyone caught him there. Years later, when we’d been living together, he’d steal down the hall to sleep in the guest room.

Once we’d stopped having sex at all, it had shifted seamlessly into separate bedrooms.

Austin hadn’t even gotten off, though.

I shifted a few times, testing to see if he’d jump up and make excuses to stumble off into the night, but he turned me on my side as if I were a body pillow and pulled my back against his chest.

I lay awake tracing his fingers as he held my hand under my chin.

He ran hot. I was thirsty, almost feverish, with a headache forming behind my eyes. I was going to be hungover as shit in the morning, but tonight wouldn’t last forever. I could suffer tomorrow.

For now, I’d absorb the details of what it felt like to share a bed with someone who never stopped touching you. I might need to write about it sometime. And until this moment, it hadn’t happened to me.

I blinked in the gray morning light. Somewhere nearby, a bird made a god-awful racket. The only thing more disturbing would have been the literal crowing of a cock. By comparison, a bugle playing “Reveille” would’ve been a lullaby.

Austin lay on the small strip of empty floor beside the mattress, trying to work his tiny shorts up his thighs as quietly as possible. I remained still, one eye cracked, watching him. For a few moments, his cock and balls were nicely presented, squeezed from below by the tight fabric, but then, with a small curse, he manfully stuffed everything out of sight.

I grimaced in sympathy, sucking in a loud, sharp breath.

He heard me.

I’d blown any chance I might have had of pretending to be asleep and letting him slip away without any awkward morning-after conversation.

Austin crawled partially onto the mattress, placed one hand near my head and the other between my legs, and kissed me.

I hadn’t anticipated it. My mouth tasted like sour beer and ass—not in a good way—so I’d hesitated. Thankfully, it was a quick, chaste smack of the lips.

“Morning,” I murmured.

“Good morning,” Austin said. His brown eyes were puffy. “I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye, but I’m super late for work—oh, wait. What do we have here?” He squeezed my morning erection through the thin fabric of the sleeping bag. “It looks like your package has arrived, sir.”

I instinctively pushed into his grip. God, it felt good, but my sinuses were congested and my head throbbed. I groaned. “Damn. I don’t think I’ve ever had a hangover like this. I didn’t drink that much, did I?”

Austin grimaced. “Yeah, the stuffy nose is a pretty shitty side effect. Have you never taken dick meds before?”

I avoided his question. “Have you taken them before?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Um…” I could see him thinking. “Athletic performance,” he said with a questioning lilt. “I’ve also been with other guys who take them.” To change the subject, he tore back the covers and grabbed my dick again. “But check out this fucking tool, Prof.”

God, I’d forgotten what it was like to be this hard. Unable to help myself, I fucked his warm fist. “Sorry,” I said through gritted teeth.

Austin laughed. “What have you got to be sorry for?”

“Badly timing my medication.” I grimaced. “And leaving you blue-balled.”

He shrugged. “Not everybody has to get off every time.”

I propped myself up on one elbow. “Well, that’s awfully mature of you.”

“I’m very mature for my age.”

“Are you?” I teased. I wanted to ask him how old he was exactly, but our age difference wasn’t something I wanted to call attention to.

“I am. It makes me feel good to make you feel good. And the other stuff—the making out, the body contact, the spooning—is what I love most. It’s so much harder to find.”