Efrain and Cory Ch. 24

Chapter 24 ? Mirror, Spice, Flow

Part I ? Fuck-a-thon, Redux

I stood up on the couch and slipped over the back.

A move that didn't go over so well with the siblings.

"Mooooooooooooooooom!"

"Preston's jumping on the furniture again!"

"Aren't you guys too old to tattle?" I taunted. Mom's melodramatic sigh followed me as I bolted out of the room.

"Why does he get to run in the house?" my little sister whined and my baby brother echoed.

As I raced up the stairs, I heard my step-dad and mom turn Kent and Ellie back to the TV special they'd been watching in an attempt to shut off demands to know why I got to do all the fun stuff. They'd learned over the years that giving reasons such as Preston is ten years older and Preston is an adult wouldn't work. Redirection was the only method they'd had any success with.

I hit the unmute button on my phone as soon as I got in my room. "Hey, you still there?"

"Yeah." Indie's voice sounded even hotter over the phone. Like, instant erection hot. "Did you run or something?"

"Kinda," I said. Or did he sound hotter because I was just really hard up and thirsty? I leaned against my door. "Had to get away from prying ears."

"So you ran hard enough to end up panting?" he chuckled. Yeah, really thirsty. Why the fuck else would I get all tingly over a man laughing at his own non-joke.

"I thought you liked hearing me pant."

"I like making you pant," he said. "There's a difference."

"Is that why you're calling?" I flopped back on my bed. "You want to make me pant?"

"Doesn't sound like a bad idea," he answered. The timbre of his voice had pitched low, and blood slammed into my cock with a thud. "When are you heading back to Blacksburg?"

"Now."

"Now?"

"Like, right now," I said. "Packing my bags as we speak." Stroking my cock through my jeans, packing my bags. Same difference.

"You serious?"

"I could be."

He sighed. "I'm still at Laurel's parents' place."

"Ah," I said, trying to hide my disappointment.

"But, I really need to get out of here," he said.

"Family making you crazy?"

"Something like that."

"That's why I never come home without a good excuse for leaving early," I said.

"Clever."

"Aren't I always?"

~*~*~*~

I remember hearing Preston's knock, and opening the door for him, and inviting him inside. I'm not quite sure, however, when I actually picked him up and pinned him against the door.

One minute, he's giving me this, I don't know, look, and the next his arms and legs are wrapped around me while I try to get my tongue far enough into his pretty little mouth to see if he still has his wisdom teeth.

I could worry about this, but the smell, taste, feel of him made it impossible to think rationally. His mouth felt hungrier the more I fed off him, and worrying how we got to this point would take away from my more immediate concerns.

Like how to get him pinned under me.

Moreover, allowing my thoughts to drift from my plan to get him between the sheets would lead to some problems I'd really rather not think about ?? like why Laurel felt like she had to tell me about her and Mike getting married as if I was some fragile fucking piece, or why people felt fucking sorry for me when they shouldn't, or why I ditched my mom with my best friend's parents after Thanksgiving dinner for a booty call.

Which would defeat the purpose of the booty call in the first place.

Preston's legs tightened around my waist and his little whimpers tumbled into my mouth. Holding him up like this didn't really work for grinding on him or rubbing my hands all over his pert ass, but it was getting the job done for everything else. With his hands in my hair, I forgot to give a fuck about my mom, and Thanksgiving, and Laurel's little announcement, and the concerned looks I kept getting from my best friends and their relatives. His neck, the skin soft and flush, warmed under my lips.

"Don't get me wrong, sugar, this is incredibly hot," he panted, "but don't you think we're a little overdressed for this?"

I licked over his Adam's apple, then trailed kisses up his chin and back to his pouty lips. "You're always overdressed," I said before sweeping my tongue into his mouth.

"But, we're excessively overdressed now," he said when I let him come up for air.

"You look fine."

"Indie."

"Yeah?" I said, nibbling his bottom lip.

"Less quipping, more stripping."

"Wasn't that a quip?" I chucked against his mouth.

"Bite my ass."

"Eventually," I joked, but I did set him down and led him through the house. I had to get him in my room because I actually did want to bite his ass, but he stalled in the living room.

"We should re-christen your couches."

"And waste a perfectly good bed?" I said. "Although, I suppose if you really güvenilir bahis need living room furniture to get off, I do have those armchairs."

"Oh, those could be fun!"

We continued back to my room, but I made a mental note to return for the couches.

~*~*~*~

"Who does your decorating?"

"My womenfolk."

"Womenfolk?" I looked over my shoulder at Indie, who'd finally stopped fussing with the tap now that the tub was nearly full. "Really?"

Indie's garden tub ? this ridiculously large, roughly triangular-shaped thing ? took up a corner of the bathroom. The raised platform the tub sat in was almost like a stage, and added enough height that steps were required to get in. The ample space between the edge of the tub and the wall on all sides had been filled with more pillar candles than a Catholic prayer altar.

When I joked about him taking candle-lit baths, he said that they only looked like they've been used because they're flameless and that's what they're supposed to look like. He swore up and down that the only time he'd ever touched them was when he had to dust. I knew he had to be lying, then. Seriously, what normal twenty-something male, gay or straight, dusts? Then he started switching on the candles, mainly because he'd actually never used them before (allegedly) and didn't know if they even had batteries. Indie had dimmed the lights (who puts a dimmer switch in a bathroom?), to show off the full effect. And you can't not take a candle-lit bath, especially when the tub is that impressive.

"Yeah," he said, pulling me between his legs and back against his chest. I relaxed into him. "My step-mom convinced my dad that the best way to furnish the place was to give me their old stuff."

"Your furniture really doesn't look that old," I remarked.

"It's not," he said. "Claire just wanted an excuse to buy new shit."

"At least she has good taste. Your bedroom is nice."

"Thank my mom and Laurel for that. They had a little 'Cheer the fuck up, Indie' day on Dad's dime."

"Oh?" I looked up at Indie as he scrubbed his hand over his face.

"I was pretty pathetic after Jameson," he said, affecting a tone of detached indifference that rang a little false. "I was sleeping on the couch because I couldn't bring myself to sleep in our old room ever since I caught him fucking some chick in my bed."

"That's horrible!"

"Yeah, bitch was in her second trimester."

"His?"

"Yup. And not the first time."

"Damn."

"Fucker's sperm is so potent, even I've had pregnancy scares!"

"Okay, setting aside for a moment that men can't get pregnant," I said, "you're an exclusive top. Weren't you the one doing the breeding?"

"Verse, actually," he said and arched his brow suggestively. "You just assumed I was an exclusive top."

"Oh, really?"

"What? Are you having a hard time imagining me taking a cock?"

"I have no problem at all imagining you taking a cock," I said, adding my own suggestive brow arch. "Imagining it right now, in fact."

The mental image of Indie's lean body bent over, long legs spread wide, while he whimpered and begged to have his ass pounded. Holy. Ever. Living. Fuck. To say that was hot would be an understatement.

It brought "dick-ception" to a whole other level.

The only thing not hot about it, of course, was the knowledge that since I was only the second person he'd slept with, it had been that toady bastard Jameson's dick that he'd been riding.

So, I did the only reasonable thing and substituted Efrain for Jameson, and BAM! next wank's masturbation fantasy.

"You can stop now," he said.

"What?" I said innocently, while images of Wolfie breeding Iceman danced in my head.

"Your cock is suspiciously hard." Indie's eyes narrowed, but I could still see a poorly suppressed grin teasing at the corner of his mouth.

"I'm naked. In a tub. With a man. Who also happens to be naked and, I might add, just fucked my delicious ass into the mattress all of half an hour ago." I gestured down at my dick, making it jump for maximum effect. "How is this suspicious?"

He rolled his eyes, and I pretended not to notice the suspicious length hardening against my back.

"So, sleeping on the couch?" I prompted.

"Laurel and Mom found out about the couch and got all weepy." His fingers danced along my thighs under the bathwater (seemed he wasn't going to let our aroused state go to waste). "Next thing I knew, I'm whipping out my credit card at Bed Bath