Blowing It by Kate Aaron Page B

to his collarbone, and I ran my hands over
them, enjoying the sensation. My body was practically boyish in comparison,
skinny and largely hairless. I did so like having thick, solid bulk under my
hands. The contrast excited me.
    I pushed his shirt down his arms, and he shook it
free, letting it drop on top of his coat. His chest rose and fell but he didn’t
reach for me, content to let me touch him at my own pace. I slid my palms down
his flanks and tickled his waist to see it convulse as he laughed, confirming
my suspicions he’d been sucking his stomach in. I liked the little sign of
insecurity, the way he tried to make himself seem more attractive for me. It
wasn’t necessary, but it was sweet nonetheless.
    “You bastard,” he growled, seizing my hands and
plundering my mouth though my giggles. “How do you like it?”
    I squealed as he tickled me, wriggling free of his
grasp and falling onto the bed. No sooner had I landed than he was on top of
me, his weight supported on his arms so I wasn’t crushed as we kissed again,
and I curled my arms and legs around his broad, strong body.
    “How does this come off?” Magnus demanded, tugging
at the hem of my top.
    “You have to move,” I said with a smirk, which
turned to an outright smile as he grumbled and climbed off.
    I sat up, quickly removed my jacket, and whisked
the top over my head. Now it was my turn to suck in my breath, trying to
tighten the small rolls of loose skin around my stomach. Standing, my belly was
flat, but sitting I was conscious of how untoned I was. I really should use my
building’s gym.
    Magnus’s eyes darkened as he looked at me, and I
didn’t see anything other than unabashed appreciation on his face. Setting my
insecurities—which were, admittedly, minor—aside, I hooked my fingers through
the belt loops of his jeans and used my leverage to pull him closer. His
stomach was on level with my mouth, which seemed too good a coincidence to let
pass. I kissed his warm, soft flesh, scraping my chin through the soft trail of
longer hairs which marched down his torso and into his waistband.
    He cupped my head, digging his fingers into my
hair, and I raised my eyes to look at him as I licked his skin. Then I was
unfastening his jeans, lowering the zipper, and running an appreciative hand
over what I found inside. He was already more than half-hard, and I squeezed
decent length and a pair of big, full balls through the thin cotton of his
underwear.
    I seized his waistband and dragged jeans and
underwear down his thighs in one swift movement. His cock swung free, swaying
gently in my direction, rising from a neat bush of dark brown hair. The red
head glistened from inside his half-retracted foreskin, and I swiped my thumb
over the tip to the sound of an appreciative rumble.
    “Clothes. Off.” He released my head, and I hurried
to kick off my boots, reclining on my back to unfasten my tight jeans.
    Magnus bent to finish removing his clothes, then
straightened and grabbed my ankles, helping to remove my trousers.
    “What is that?” he asked, pausing mid-motion to
look at my groin.
    I held my breath as he stared at my underwear. I’d
told him I didn’t dress in drag, but I’d forgotten to mention my penchant for silky
underthings. The pair of hot pink pants I was wearing was my favourite. They
felt decadently good against my cock and didn’t show through my clothes, no
matter how tight my jeans were.
    “You wear women’s underwear?” His expression was
inscrutable, his attention fixed on my clothes and not what bulged beneath
them.
    “Technically, they’re not women’s,” I said primly.
They came from a specialist online retailer which designed pretty, lacy things
for men of discerning tastes who didn’t want to worry how to pack everything
into a pair of knickers without losing a ball out the side.
    The corner of his mouth twitched in what I hoped
was the start of a grin. “They look like it.”
    My voice was soft as I answered,