hand.
Connor leaned down and bit one of John’s hard nipples through the soft cotton as his free hand pulled the front of John’s pants down until his hard cock popped out into the cool night air of the hallway. Then Connor wrapped his heavy fist around John’s cock and squeezed. “You want me,” Connor whispered against John’s cheek. John turned his face, blindly seeking Connor’s mouth, but Connor turned away. “You smell like an ashtray,” he said. “I don’t want to taste that.” He squeezed John’s cock again. “But I’ll taste this, Johnny.”
He let go of John’s wrists and squatted in front of him. He pointed John’s hard cock toward his mouth, closed his eyes, and leaned forward. Without hesitation John grabbed two fistfuls of Connor’s hair and stopped him.
“Don’t,” he rasped. “Don’t do it unless you mean it.” Connor didn’t fight John’s hold, didn’t look up at him. He just stayed poised there on the brink. “The last man that did that meant it,” John said. “I don’t want it if you don’t.”
They stayed like that for a minute or more. It felt like an eternity to John. Finally Connor shook John’s hands off and stood up. Without a word, he picked up John’s cigarettes and lighter and pressed them into one of his hands. Then he turned without meeting John’s eyes and went upstairs.
“About last night,” Connor said as he walked into the kitchen the next morning.
John shoved his coffee cup under the spout on the espresso machine. His eyes felt like he’d rinsed them with sand, and his mouth felt the same. Ugh . “Yeah, sorry about that.”
“You’re sorry?” Connor asked in surprise. “What for?”
John pressed the button on the machine and waited until the beans were ground before answering. “For waking you up. Sometimes I get insomnia. Not a pretty sight. Next time I’ll stay in my room.”
“It’s your damn house,” Connor said angrily. “You can have insomnia wherever the hell you want it.”
John turned in amazement. He’d never seen Connor angry. Of course, there wasn’t much to see. Connor stood there stoically glaring.
“Thanks. I will,” John replied testily.
“I was talking about the blowjob that didn’t happen.” Connor’s words were flat.
John had to admire him for not beating around the bush. Those particular bushes, however, deserved a good beating. He shrugged. “It didn’t happen. Not much to talk about.”
Connor stared at him for a minute while John just sipped his coffee. Finally Connor shrugged too. “I guess not.” He walked past John toward the backyard. “I’m going to see if I can salvage some of the fence lumber to fix the front porch.”
John grabbed his arm. “Forget it. I’ll just buy new.”
Connor roughly jerked his arm away. “You don’t always need new, John. It’s not a crime to use what you’ve already got.”
“And it’s not a crime to be rich enough to afford new when I feel like it,” John shot back.
“We got along just fine fixing this place up with what we had.” Connor was so stiff John was afraid his joints would lock.
“Yeah, well, as someone just told me, this is my house. I’ll fix it up how I want.”
His thoughtless jab hit its mark too well. Connor paled and spun around to walk toward the front porch. “Whatever you say. I’ll finish sanding the posts.”
John sighed. “Stop.” He didn’t yell, didn’t raise his voice. He just asked. Connor stopped at the door as if he’d hit a brick wall. John walked over and spoke to Connor’s stiff back. “I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.”
Connor’s shoulders sagged. “No, I’m sorry. I’m being an ass. I’m taking shit out on you that has nothing to do with you.”
Ouch . John didn’t even think Connor was aware how that one hit the target. “I guess that makes two of us,” he lied.
Connor leaned the front of his body against the wall next to the door and covered his head with his arms. “I wish I
Connor leaned down and bit one of John’s hard nipples through the soft cotton as his free hand pulled the front of John’s pants down until his hard cock popped out into the cool night air of the hallway. Then Connor wrapped his heavy fist around John’s cock and squeezed. “You want me,” Connor whispered against John’s cheek. John turned his face, blindly seeking Connor’s mouth, but Connor turned away. “You smell like an ashtray,” he said. “I don’t want to taste that.” He squeezed John’s cock again. “But I’ll taste this, Johnny.”
He let go of John’s wrists and squatted in front of him. He pointed John’s hard cock toward his mouth, closed his eyes, and leaned forward. Without hesitation John grabbed two fistfuls of Connor’s hair and stopped him.
“Don’t,” he rasped. “Don’t do it unless you mean it.” Connor didn’t fight John’s hold, didn’t look up at him. He just stayed poised there on the brink. “The last man that did that meant it,” John said. “I don’t want it if you don’t.”
They stayed like that for a minute or more. It felt like an eternity to John. Finally Connor shook John’s hands off and stood up. Without a word, he picked up John’s cigarettes and lighter and pressed them into one of his hands. Then he turned without meeting John’s eyes and went upstairs.
“About last night,” Connor said as he walked into the kitchen the next morning.
John shoved his coffee cup under the spout on the espresso machine. His eyes felt like he’d rinsed them with sand, and his mouth felt the same. Ugh . “Yeah, sorry about that.”
“You’re sorry?” Connor asked in surprise. “What for?”
John pressed the button on the machine and waited until the beans were ground before answering. “For waking you up. Sometimes I get insomnia. Not a pretty sight. Next time I’ll stay in my room.”
“It’s your damn house,” Connor said angrily. “You can have insomnia wherever the hell you want it.”
John turned in amazement. He’d never seen Connor angry. Of course, there wasn’t much to see. Connor stood there stoically glaring.
“Thanks. I will,” John replied testily.
“I was talking about the blowjob that didn’t happen.” Connor’s words were flat.
John had to admire him for not beating around the bush. Those particular bushes, however, deserved a good beating. He shrugged. “It didn’t happen. Not much to talk about.”
Connor stared at him for a minute while John just sipped his coffee. Finally Connor shrugged too. “I guess not.” He walked past John toward the backyard. “I’m going to see if I can salvage some of the fence lumber to fix the front porch.”
John grabbed his arm. “Forget it. I’ll just buy new.”
Connor roughly jerked his arm away. “You don’t always need new, John. It’s not a crime to use what you’ve already got.”
“And it’s not a crime to be rich enough to afford new when I feel like it,” John shot back.
“We got along just fine fixing this place up with what we had.” Connor was so stiff John was afraid his joints would lock.
“Yeah, well, as someone just told me, this is my house. I’ll fix it up how I want.”
His thoughtless jab hit its mark too well. Connor paled and spun around to walk toward the front porch. “Whatever you say. I’ll finish sanding the posts.”
John sighed. “Stop.” He didn’t yell, didn’t raise his voice. He just asked. Connor stopped at the door as if he’d hit a brick wall. John walked over and spoke to Connor’s stiff back. “I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.”
Connor’s shoulders sagged. “No, I’m sorry. I’m being an ass. I’m taking shit out on you that has nothing to do with you.”
Ouch . John didn’t even think Connor was aware how that one hit the target. “I guess that makes two of us,” he lied.
Connor leaned the front of his body against the wall next to the door and covered his head with his arms. “I wish I
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