All characters are 18+

— Ch. 1 (April 2025 contest entry)

— Previous chapter

Last time: After a fight, Newty and Bailey didn’t speak for a few weeks. But time passed, and they both missed each other more than expected, and they’re trying again. First, they wanted to take things slowly and be careful, but as soon as their bodies were reunited, slow and careful became pretty difficult.

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Chapter 18: The Rush

I’d dated coworkers before, but never at the museum, so this was a new experience. Both of us were wise enough to stay focused on work, but, admittedly, the following day was a much nicer day at work than the previous weeks, even just actually talking to Bailey again in passing. 

And we went on our first official date after work that day. Bailey let me pick the restaurant, and he offered to drive, so I picked one of my favorites, a smaller, quieter Italian place owned by a married couple in their sixties. Everything was made fresh, and it tasted about as authentic as I could imagine—not that I knew much about authentic Italian cuisine. 

The best part, other than the food, though, was the quiet and the privacy. The loudest sound was the owner, Fina, in the kitchen laughing and singing in Italian, while her more stoic husband tended to the phone and the register. Our server, it turned out, was their youngest daughter of six. 

“How did you find this place?” Bailey asked as he twirled a forkful of spaghetti. “Like, I looked and looked and looked for places, and I still missed this one.”

“Alright,” I sighed, leaning forward on the table, “I’ll tell you my secret strategy.”

Bailey raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side. “Secret strategy?”

“Mhm,” I nodded. “When I moved here, I went online and looked for places, and I looked for places not with the best reviews, but the oldest reviews, and then I compared them to more recent reviews.”

“Smart,” Bailey nodded.

“That way, it’s not just, like, novelty. It’s about consistency. This place has been here for fifteen or more years, and the menu hasn’t changed once, so I knew it would be good.”

“Well, kudos to you, sir,” Bailey said with a wink. “And cheers to you, too.”

He held his glass of wine toward me, so I sat back to clink my glass against it. 

“Cheers to our first official date,” I smiled.

“I texted my mom that I’m seeing someone new,” said Bailey, his cheeks getting as red as the wine we sipped. 

I gasped. “Oh, yeah?” 

I didn’t talk to my family nearly as much as I knew I should. 

“Yeah. I’m thinking how to ease into telling her it’s a boy.”

“Will she… care?” In our conversations about our families, he’d mentioned he had a fairly good relationship with everyone—especially his mom. I, on the other hand, always felt like a bit of a black sheep, and moving to Champion and starting my relationship with Carter had driven even more of a wedge between us.

“She’ll care that I’m happy,” Bailey shrugged. “I’m sure she’ll be a bit surprised, but I don’t think she’s gonna freak out or anything. Same with my dad and sisters.”

In our friendship thus far, we’d talked about our families, so I knew Bailey was the second oldest in his family, and he was the only boy—which explained his softness and sensitivity. Meanwhile, I had a brother who was just barely a year older than me, who I’d been close to when we were little but drifted apart from since. 

“Also my aunt has a wife,” he shrugged. “She’s a lawyer in Minnesota, and—get this—my dad loves his half-sister—different dad—so much that he literally named me after her. Bailey. He had three daughters, but he gave his only son his sister’s name.” He was laughing, so I laughed, too.

“That’s kinda odd, I’ll admit,” I chuckled. “But it’s a cute story.”

“I think it’s because my parents did, like, an A-B-C-D thing. So my older sister is Alannah, I’m Bailey, then came Charlotte, and Dahlia is the baby.” 

“There’s just me and my brother, Jayden,” I said.

“Does he go by Newty, too?” 

“Ironically, no,” I laughed. “He got called Jaybird, because he never shut up.”

Bailey laughed. “Sounds like my sister, Charlotte. Chatty Charli, we called her.”

How cute, I thought. It just felt so sweet, so real, and just so safe, talking with Bailey, and I could’ve sat at that restaurant for hours.  

We sat there until we were full, though, gorging ourselves on tiramisu and more wine, and the gentlemanly Bailey absolutely insisted on paying for the meal.

“Well,” I grinned, “thank you, Bailey. I’ll get the next one.”

“Guess I never thought about the rules when it’s two dudes,” he shrugged. “But I’d be a fool to turn down another date.”

And, since Bailey had driven us from work to the restaurant, he drove us back to the parking lot by the museum so I could grab my car. 

“Do you… wanna come over?” He asked as we sat on the hood of his car, right next to my jeep. “My apartment misses you.”

I felt my face getting hot. “Would I be staying the night?”

“I mean, my bed misses you, too,” he said, flashing a grin at me in the twilight. “And you know you’re always welcome to stay the night.”

“Can I run home and grab some clothes? I feel bad borrowing your sweatpants again.”

“I like you in my pants, dude,” he laughed.

“I like being in your pants, dude,” I laughed right back. “So I’ll just grab clothes for tomorrow, then, and I’ll be right over.”

“Perfect.” He gave me a hug, squeezing me tight in that special Bailey way, and we parted ways briefly. 

I tore through my studio like a madman, getting a bag together to stay over. Internally, though, I wasn’t sure what to expect from the night.

Should I clean out? I wondered. We’d promised—rather, I’d promised—to be slow and careful, to not rush into the physical things. But after spending time across a romantic dinner table, I definitely wanted to do those things. Hard and repeatedly.

But I opted not to douche, since full-on sex wasn’t on the table just yet. We’d explored one another with our mouths and hands, and that felt incredible, so I was willing to wait. And if Bailey wanted to keep things more kosher, I was willing to do that, too. 

I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel of my jeep as I crossed town, soon making it to Bailey’s building and finding a non-reserved spot. Then I texted him I was there, so he met me at the back door to let me up, again greeting me with a tight embrace. And a soft, tender kiss that made my knees shake.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered, grabbing my hand and walking to the elevator with me. 

“Me, too,” I sighed as we ascended. “Thank you, again, for dinner.”

“Thanks for the recommendation! I love Italian. And I love spending time with you.”

“You’re gonna make me blush,” I giggled. 

“I mean it, though. Even when we were just friends—you know, despite the constant longing I was feeling—I’ve always just really loved being around you. I wanted to try and be friends since I started at the museum.”

I gasped, and the elevator door opened to Bailey's floor. 

“Why didn’t you?” I questioned him.

“I kinda explained it already,” he shrugged. He turned his key in the door, and we walked in. Instantly, I felt comforted by the familiarity and the flood of warm memories that were held in this place. “You’re a hot guy. A cool guy. I didn’t know if you’d like me.”

“Geez,” I laughed, “am I that intimidating?”

“You were to me, but now I’m realizing it was probably just, like, intense attraction that I didn’t know how to process. Anyways, I’m glad we’re friends. And I’m more glad we’re dating.”

“Speaking of,” I said, clearing my throat as we made our way to the very couch where we’d eaten each other’s asses like dessert. “Can I call you my boyfriend? Or—”

“Well, of course,” he nodded emphatically. “Can I call you my boyfriend?” His eyes got wide as he said that last word, and a wide smile crept across his face. “My boyfriend,” he whispered to himself.

“I’m whatever you want me to be,” I smiled.

“Don’t get all people-pleaser with me, mister,” he winked. “You’re my boyfriend, and I’m yours. And I really like how it sounds.”

“Yeah? I’m, like, so impressed,” I acknowledged. “There are so many guys who take years and years to accept themselves.”

“I mean, maybe it did take years,” he shrugged, “but no matter what, I’m exactly where I’m meant to be with exactly who I’m meant to be with.”

Instantly, I was bathed in goosebumps. Like most of these tender moments with my Bailey-boy, it all just felt too good to be true. But it was true, and it was real, and I knew better than to fuck it up again. 

“Wanna get cozy?” Asked Bailey. “I have wine, too.”

“Ooh!” I squealed, clapping my hands together with excitement. 

“Come change with me.” He stood up and held out his hand, which I took, and we walked to the bedroom. 

Like a kid learning to pee standing up, Bailey just dropped his pants and underwear down to his ankles as soon as we were in his room, and I cackled. He waddled to his dresser, and I just stared at his bare ass the whole time he searched for pants for us. So I played along, pulling my pants and underwear down, too, so when he turned around, his eyes fell to my dick. 

“Fuck,” he huffed. “I don’t know how I did sports and shit in school and never looked below the belt. ‘Cause I can’t look away…”

He stepped (waddled) over to me, a pair of sweatpants draped over each arm, until his penis was touching my penis, almost like a limp handshake. But it didn’t stay limp for long, and his compliments manifested in a rush of blood to my groin. 

“You can look whenever you want,” I whispered, staring down at our inflating dicks as Bailey began swiveling his hips from side to side. 

“I took those pictures out of the hidden folder. Accidentally started looking at them on my lunch break and got a boner in the locker room, which was awkward.”

We both laughed, and then we put the sweatpants on before either of us were rock hard.

Slow and careful, I reminded myself.

But I hadn’t asked Bailey. What did he want? He’d said it the previous night: was I just saying and doing what I thought was ‘right,’ trying to be respectful and respectable?

Obviously, I wanted Bailey in every way, but I was scared to rush. To rush him. To rush us. To rush back into old habits. Or were they old coping mechanisms? 

 “Are we drinking wine in the living room or in here?” I asked. 

“Wherever you want, boyfriend of mine.” Bailey leaned forward and kissed my cheek. 

“Well,” I whispered, kissing his cheek in return, “I’m a big fan of both.”

And that was true in many ways for me. Apart from my hundred-percent homosexuality, I was someone who generally fell in the middle or average of most spectrums of identity. I was easy to please in terms of genres of media. I exhibited masculine and feminine energy at the same time. I was very extroverted at times, but I enjoyed being by myself often and for long periods of time. I was even truly versatile in the bedroom. 

But was all of that, too, just me trying to please everyone at all times, to present as whatever I needed to be for whoever needed me in the moment? 

I almost felt guilty for being so unsure of who I was when I was starting a new relationship. Especially someone as magical as Bailey. So I knew that I owed it to him to get it together as soon as possible. 

“How would you feel if I made more cookies?” Bailey giggled, his fingers sliding up and down my arms. 

“I’d feel incredible,” I smiled. 

“Good, because I was gonna do it anyway.” Then he planted another quick kiss on my cheeks, then another on my lips, and then he zipped to the fridge, where he pulled out a bottle of white wine, and then he opened the freezer and got cookie dough. As usual, he’d done it all in such a quick flash that I thought I was seeing things. 

Like a duckling to its mother, I swam across the apartment to Bailey’s side. 

I opened the bottle of wine and poured it into the glasses Bailey had pulled from a cupboard, and he got the cookie dough onto a cookie sheet and into the barely-preheated oven. Then we did another toast and made our way to the couch, peering out into the city, overtaken by the indigo of nighttime, dotted with lights like stars in far-off galaxies. 

“Thank you,” I blurted before I lost myself in thought.

“For what?” Bailey slid his hand across to my lap, lacing his fingers in mine. 

“For giving me another chance,” I whispered. 

He squeezed my hand and said softly, “Thank you for giving me another chance. I overreacted, and I was just stubborn about admitting it… I’m sorry, Newty.”

“No sorries,” I said. “We’re past it all, okay?”

“I promise I’m, like, totally over it.” He smiled. “I understand why it happened like it did. And now that I think about it, I had so many chances to just tell you what I was feeling, too. And can I confess something else?” His voice got quiet.

“Anything.” I meant it.

“That night at the bars, when I kinda clammed up… It wasn’t just because I saw the other guy from the glory hole. It was because I was having a better time with you, and I didn’t know how to deal with it, because I realized it was the real reason I’d asked to go out with you.”

The air left my lungs, and it took a moment to recollect it. “Really?”

“Yes, dude,” Bailey laughed. “So I’m sorry I was so hesitant to be honest with myself, because it meant I wasn’t truly honest with you.”

“We’re past it all,” I nodded. “And I think it gives us a good footing, really. Like, I know that I’ve learned that just being up-front about things is the safest option. I think I got some exposure therapy, you know?”

“Yeah?” Bailey giggled and took a sip of wine. 

“Seriously,” I laughed, now squeezing his hand. “I’ve always been afraid of the worst-case scenario, and then it happened because I was too afraid to hurt someone’s feelings with the truth.” 

“Newty…” His face got almost stern. “Worst-case? With everything you’ve had to go through?”

I almost scoffed and laughed at the same time. Because I knew what he meant, but I also knew what I meant.

“Yeah,” I breathed. “And I’m not just saying that. The few weeks where we weren’t talking, and I knew that you were hurting because of me? That was probably the worst thing I’ve had to go through. Mostly because it was entirely my fault.”

Suddenly, Bailey’s free hand was cradling my face, his thumb rubbing my cheek gently. 

“I’m okay, okay?” He whispered. “You can forgive yourself. I need you to.”

I almost laughed once more. Gavin’s right, I thought to myself. 

So I just nodded, and I squeezed his hand again. 

“I wanna have a nice night with my boyfriend,” Bailey smiled. 

“Every night is a nice night with you, Bailey-boy.”

“God, you’re so cute,” he sighed, and he leaned over to kiss me on the lips again. I closed my eyes and surrendered to him. Both of us had glasses of wine to keep upright, but the fervor with which Bailey was kissing me made me want to set my glass down and strip all of my clothes off. 

But then he pulled back. “Sorry,” he practically moaned.

“Don’t be,” I told him. “I like it. I like you.”

“Ohh,” he shuddered, “I like you, too.”

Is he just telling me what I want to hear? I suddenly worried. 

But my fears dissipated instantly, when he leaned to set his glass on the coffee table, and both of his hands found their way into my hair as his lips acquainted themselves with my neck. 

“Mmm,” I moaned. “Ohh, Bailey.” 

His mouth was suddenly next to my ear left ear while his hands massaged my scalp, and he whispered, “I like you so fucking much, Newty.”

“Are we going too fast?” I blurted as my eyes rolled back in my head. 

“I don’t fucking care…” And he started to suck on my collarbone. 

Again, I was swathed in full-body chills. 

It was a good thing he’d said that, because as the night had progressed, I’d wanted him more and more. And as the night had progressed, I’d realized that slow and careful was the opposite of how I wanted him. I wanted him wholly and deeply. Quickly and fiercely.

And I wanted Bailey for a long, long, long time. 

I felt the glass in my hand disappear as Bailey removed it from my grip and set it next to his. Then his lips found my neck again, and his hands slid up beneath my shirt. My eyes rolled back in my head, and I began to question if I could even stop myself from the inevitability of it all, even if I wanted to. 

But that slowly turned into a laughable thought as Bailey’s hands continued to roam up, up, up, until my shirt was pulled over my head. And then our lips reconnected, and I gave in; I found the bottom of Bailey’s shirt, and I got that off of him, too. My hands soon found their way into the hair on his chest, while his worked on undoing the drawstring of the sweatpants I was wearing. His kiss, which had initially been sweet, became hungry, powerful as his fingers slid, beneath my waistband, around my hips, coaxing me to stand up. 

And when I did, he pulled the sweatpants down, and my hardening cock was free. As our tongues twisted around each other, I tried to undo the tie on his sweatpants, too, and he helped me slide them down before I even knew what was happening. It was clear that he wanted this just as much as me, if not even more. And that reassured me.

Maybe there was no slow and careful. Not anymore. 

I had to catch my breath, so I pulled away from our kiss, the two of us now nude on his couch, our glasses of wine becoming our forgotten children, cast aside on the coffee table. We sat back for a moment, our hands lingering on one another’s bodies, and we stared into each other’s eyes. The light was dim–Bailey had only turned on the one above his oven. He looked so sweet, so handsome, and when he smiled at me, I felt warmth.

But then, from the coffee table, came an alarm.

“Ah, shit,” he groaned. “The cookies.”

“Oh,” I laughed, my face on fire. I was rock hard, and when Bailey stood up, kicking off his sweatpants, he was hard, too.

“Do you want a fresh one?” He asked from the oven as he opened it, warm, sweet air filling the open space. “Or do you wanna keep…?” He cleared his throat before pulling the cookie sheet from the oven.

“Get back over here, stud,” I hissed.

“I like that answer,” he grinned, and he floated back over to the couch. I admired his nude frame as he approached, eager to feel his skin on mine again.

I opened my arms to greet him, and he wrapped his around me, one behind my neck and the other under my back. He laid me back against an arm rest, climbing on top of me. And then he kissed me some more as my legs spread apart of their own volition. He took his place between them, our stiff cocks finding one another like two magnets. 

I sunk into the leather as we kissed, Bailey’s hips grinding his cock against mine. With my eyes closed, I wrapped my arms around him, anchoring myself to him in the near-darkness of the apartment. As usual, it was flattering how much he seemed to want this. To want me. I was his first boyfriend, and he couldn’t get enough. 

But, somehow, it was like that for me, too. While he wasn’t my first by any means, so much of it felt new. 

Like a Madonna song, I mused in my head. 

“Sit up on the back,” Bailey whispered, his lips still touching mine, “so I can taste you.”

“What part do you want to taste?” I asked. Although I hadn’t cleaned out, I knew I was clean enough to eat, if that was what he wanted.

“Let’s start with your wiener,” he laughed. “And then, if my tongue just so happens to make its way down to your butthole, so be it.” 

I smirked as he pushed up off of me, and then I climbed up on top of the couch and scooched back along the ledge of the bay window behind me. With my legs spread, Bailey climbed on his knees between them, looking up at me. 

“Someone will definitely be able to see,” I whispered. 

“It’s pretty dark in here,” he reminded me. “And no one else is this high up other than my neighbors.”

To be honest, I was so into sexy times with Bailey that I didn’t care who saw. And Bailey, it appeared, didn’t care either, because he grabbed the base of my shaft and leaned his head down. 

I let out a shaking sigh as his tongue swirled around and around the head of my cock. He opened his mouth, and he took me inside. My dick was enveloped in the sweetest warmth, and I heard the crunching squeak of the leather under his knees as he got into it, swallowing down more and more of my length. 

“Ohh, Bailey,” I huffed, my head falling back as pleasure overtook me. 

It was clear that the ‘slow and careful’ routine wasn’t the move. Not for two people with such incredible sexual chemistry. 

As my body became covered in chills and goosebumps again, I slid the fingers of my right hand into his hair, moaning softly with each full-length pass of his lips on my cock. He was engaging his tongue, too, finding the soft and sensitive parts of my cockhead and the underside of my shaft. 

Slowly, I lay back until my shoulders rested on the window behind me, both of my hands now on either of my thighs.

And then Bailey’s tongue was suddenly exploring my balls, licking around them, between them, and he even took them into his mouth. 

“Ooh,” I grunted in gleeful surprise. 

But then, it seemed he wanted more, because he slid his hands under my knees and pushed them up and back, lifting my ass up just slightly. And he dove right in, his tongue finding my hole instantly. 

I moaned again, reaching under my knees, too, to pull my legs back even farther. Bailey moved his hands closer to my ass like he was steadying himself, burying his face even deeper. He ate me out like we hadn’t had dinner and he was starving. The fervor with which his tongue lapped and slurped and swirled around my tight ring was impressive, and a bead of precum dripped down from the tip of my dick onto my stomach. All the while I was grunting and whimpering, unable to hold back. 

After a few minutes of some of the best ass-eating I’d ever experienced, he pulled at my legs, and my ass fell back down. Within a second, my cock returned to the warmth of Bailey’s mouth. He was sucking me harder and faster now, like he was racing to finish a thick milkshake, and it felt heavenly. Before I knew it, I realized an orgasm was brewing, and I didn’t know if I was ready to finish just yet.

“I need to taste you, too,” I breathed, sitting up.

My cock popped out of his mouth, and he looked up at me. “Don’t you wanna nut?” He grinned.

“Of course, but I want it to last,” I breathed, admiring his face. The creases by the corners of his eyes. The sweetness of his soft gaze.

“Well, which part do you want to taste, big guy?” He pushed back and stood up, his own boner waving from side to side as he moved. It looked like it was ready to blow, and I hoped I’d get to make it do just that.

“Get on your hands and knees,” I smirked, narrowing my eyes and sliding down the back cushion of the couch so I could stand up, too. “I have an idea, and I think you’ll like it.” 

“Hell yeah,” Bailey beamed. “I showered super quick when I got home, to be honest. When you ran back to your place.” 

Perfect, I thought as I watched him climb into position. While the ledge wasn’t quite big enough for Bailey to sprawl out, there was enough space for him to get up with his knees on the ledge and his back arched.

So I crawled forward, just as he had, and I put one hand on each asscheek. His body radiated warmth, which felt nice in the drafty apartment living room. And then I dove in with my tongue, tasting his delicious ass. 

He moaned at the touch of my tongue, his ring relaxing in just seconds, allowing me to slither in. And after some time, getting him relaxed and ready, I began the next step of my plan.

“Scoot back so your feet are down,” I told him. “And then you’re gonna push your cock down between your legs.”

Bailey gasped as he put the pieces together.

“Are you gonna…” He swallowed hard and crawled back until his thighs were touching the backrest of the couch, and he was standing, and then he bent forward, and he shoved his dick down, and I grabbed it. 

“Yeah,” I hissed. “I’m gonna suck you from the back.”

It was something I’d done and had done to me, so I knew it was effective and sexy. 

Bailey let out a soft whimper, and I practically folded myself in half to get my mouth in a good position to reach his cock, which was pushed back as far as it could go. Now, his ass, balls, and cock were in a straight line, right in front of my face, not unlike a buffet. 

And I started with the meat.

I wrapped my lips around the head, and Bailey moaned louder. “Oh, shit,” he yelped. “Oh, my god. Ohh, wow.”

I swallowed a few more inches until the tip of my nose was touching his balls. Then I bobbed my head back and forth quickly, stimulating the first few inches of his cock with my lips and tongue. 

Then I moved onto his balls, squeezing his saliva-slick cockhead with my hand as I slurped his hairy scrotum. He continued to huff and pant and whine, his legs shaking on either side of me. His voice was echoing off the glass in front of his face, making his pleasure sounds even louder, layered like a chorus or a symphony.

My tongue traveled the rest of the way back to his tight ass, and I buried my face between his cheeks again. It was clear I was making him feel good, and that made me feel good. 

So, guided by the sounds Bailey was making and the way his body reacted, I alternated from his dick to his balls to his ass and back, making sure to play with his cockhead whenever my mouth wasn’t on it. 

He tasted so good to me. It was sweeter than any cookies—but I hadn’t forgotten about those and looked forward to enjoying them.

After a few minutes, Bailey stammered, “Can we go to the bed and bust in each other’s m-mouth?” 

I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand and giggled. “I like that idea.”

“Good. I’m really close, though.”

I grinned, sitting back on my knees so I could stand up. I got a great view of just what I’d been working with: his lower half, splayed out along the backrest of the couch, with his gorgeous, hairy cock pushed down and playing peek-a-boo. He turned around, and his boner flung up with force. 

Bailey got to his feet and took my hand, and we headed to the bedroom. I really wanted to feel his weight on top of me, so I dove onto the bed and got on my back.

“Get on,” I teased. “You can, like, fuck my face if you want.”

Bailey’s eyes got wide, one brow raised, and he laughed. “Yeah?”

“I’m not kidding,” I admitted. “Either way, I wanna do it this way.” I reached down and held my boner steady, pointing straight up at the ceiling.

So Bailey walked over and crawled into position, his feet facing the head of the bed, and he swung a leg over me. He took my dick from my hand, so I got his and helped him get settled and more comfortable. He seemed hesitant to put any weight on top of me, so I encouraged him.

“Will you be able to breathe?” He asked, sounding worried. 

“Yes. If I need air, I’ll tap your ass three times.” I didn’t want to tell him I’d done this plenty of times with guys much taller and heavier than him, so I just assured him I could handle it. 

So he slowly lowered himself a bit more, and I lifted my head up and took his cock into my mouth. He instantly wrapped his lips around mine, sending a jolt of shivers across every extremity. I closed my eyes, using my neck muscles to get the best angles. His cock was warm, like it was ready to blow. 

I reached up with both of my hands and grabbed ahold of his ass, pulling on it. I wanted him to, at the very least, lightly fuck the back of my throat. He had said he was close, so I hoped his body might take over.

Use me, I thought. I wanted his hot, salty load to pump down my throat as my eyes watered.

And, ever so slowly, Bailey started to push his hips downward, causing his cock to slide along my tongue, deeper and deeper. Meanwhile, he was slobbering all over my cock and balls with finesse. I was impressed, as always–he was a good multitasker. 

Little by little, Bailey engaged his hips more and more. He wasn’t humping my throat fully, but he was going a bit faster, a bit deeper, now. And on my cock, he was moaning and grunting, taking deep breaths through his nose to match mine. The lights were brighter in the bedroom, but my eyes were squeezed shut with the ultimate pleasure and the delicious feeling of my throat being stretched out by his cockhead. 

His moans were getting more and more frequent, and I was moaning, too, slithering my tongue from side to side to add to the softness of my throat, to add to the pleasure he was receiving from my mouth. 

And then, cold air hit my dick as Bailey picked his head up to practically shout, “Ohh, fuck, I’m gonna cum! You’re gonna make me fucking cum! Ohh–AHH! Mmm!” He was finally humping my throat wildly, my eyes watering, even though they were closed. And as his perfect cock twitched, shooting his ropes down my throat, his moans were suddenly muffled by my cock, and his head was bobbing up and down faster than ever before. 

I was overwhelmed by the intense pleasure, and as Bailey’s cock slowly slid out of my mouth, and my head dropped back down to the bed, I grunted, “Oh, shit! Bailey!”

As I came, I held onto Bailey’s ass like I was being carried away by the oceanic tidal waves of pure bliss. I was shooting my load up into Bailey’s talented mouth, and I could feel him swallowing mouthful after mouthful. It was another magical orgasm. Another sweet and explosive intimate experience with a truly special guy. 

The post-nut clarity only brought deeper feelings. More assuredness.

When my dick stopped twitching in his mouth, Bailey rolled next to me, flat on his back, and the two of us took a moment to catch our breath. 

“Goddamn,” Bailey sighed, reaching over and resting his hand on my chest. 

“Goddamn,” I agreed, laughing softly. 

“I know we said we were gonna try and take it slow,” he said, “but I don’t know if that’s an option for me anymore.”

I laughed again. “I’m so glad you said that.” I felt really reassured. 

“I’m really not worried about what’s too fast or too slow or too whatever. As long as we’re just honest and open about everything with each other, we can go whatever speed we want in whatever direction feels like the right way to go.” He sat up, so I did, too, and our faces were close.

“Like,” I whispered, nodding, “right now, I wanna kiss you, and then I wanna go in the direction of the kitchen to get those cookies.”

He guffawed in my face, and then his lips were on mine as his hand slid up to cradle my cheek. And then we got up and chowed down on the cookies that weren’t very warm anymore. But it had been so worth it.

“You know,” said Bailey with crumbs on his lips that I wanted to lick right off, “I’ve never had it sucked from the back like that.”

“Really?” I smiled. “Well, I can do it again, whenever you want.” 

“Dude, that three-for-one special you were doing? Holy shit.” He popped another cookie into his mouth and leaned against the counter next to the oven. I felt myself blush. It was, of course, nice to receive praise of any kind, especially when I really did aim to please in the bedroom. “And then I–” He swallowed. “I hope I didn’t hurt your throat or anything just now.”

“No,” I blurted. “That’s… that was what I wanted.”

“Damn,” Bailey whispered, licking his lips. “You’re somethin’ else, aren’t you?”

“A good something?” I asked, smirking.

“The best.”

“You’re the best, Bailey.”

We were both standing, naked in the kitchen, over the tray of cookies. And it felt so nice. It wasn’t terribly late just yet, so we finished the glasses of wine we’d poured, and then we brushed our teeth for bed. 

We settled in, and I took my rightful place on his chest, as cozy as ever. Bailey let out a contented sigh in the dark.

“I really like having you here,” he whispered. “And I like being at your place, too.”

“Thanks for inviting me to stay.”

“Just, like, let me know if you ever need alone time. I can get pretty clingy, so I might just have mental plans to sleep together, like, every night. I don’t even care whose bed, really.”

I grinned. “Don’t worry about it. I like to be clingy, too. So I don’t mind sharing a bed for the foreseeable future.”

“I sleep a lot better with you next to me; that’s for sure.” He turned his head and kissed the back of mine softly. 

“Me, too, Bailey.”