Max found himself laughing again. He’d had his fair share of good sex, but he couldn’t remember laughing this much during it. He stroked Jeremy’s hair. Couldn’t remember feelings this…tender. It wasn’t a bad thing. In fact, it was pretty great.
He said, “You don’t have to like it, for the record. Some guys don’t swallow to cut their risk of STIs.”
Jeremy frowned again as he eyed the remaining jizz on his hand. “Don’t studies show oral transmission risk is really low? And I got the HPV vaccine.”
“Me too. I mean, there’s herpes and probably a few others, but for me, it’s an acceptable risk. Cum really gets me off. But obviously it’s your decision. I was tested recently if that helps put your mind at ease.”
Jeremy nodded, then licked another drop of milky jizz from a finger. “It’s different from mine. Not in a bad way. Like, less bitter or something.”
“Do you like tasting yours?”
Ducking his head, Jeremy shrugged. “Sometimes.”
“Me too.” He took Jeremy’s hand and licked up the rest of his own jizz. It was thick on his tongue when he kissed Jeremy hard and deep. Jeremy moaned into his mouth, his tongue meeting Max’s eagerly. “Maybe you like it dirty too, hmm?” Max whispered. “Should I suck you now? I’m going to swallow every drop.”
“Please. I need to come really, really badly. I—” He faltered, then nodded. “I’m ready.”
Max didn’t torture him any longer. He urged Jeremy off his lap and dropped to his knees on the floor—the thin little rug doing jack shit, his knee protesting. He ignored it as he unfastened Jeremy’s fly and pushed his legs open, getting his ass right on the edge of the mattress, jeans down under his hips.
While he wanted him completely naked, he worried Jeremy would feel too exposed. For a second, he let himself press his face to Jeremy’s briefs, loving how damp the cotton was where his hard dick was leaking. He tugged the cotton down to release a nice-sized cock and balls, wasting no time in swallowing him almost to the root. Ginger hair tickled his nose.
Jeremy cried out, his legs kicking and hands grasping at the crumpled duvet. His head flew back, spine arching. Max sucked his thick cock while he reached for Jeremy’s hands, bringing them to his own head. He wanted those innocent hazel eyes on him, and Jeremy met his gaze.
Slurping and licking, he kept eye contact. Mouth open and chest rising and falling quickly, Jeremy tangled his fingers in Max’s hair and moaned as Max sucked him.
“I’m going to come already,” Jeremy gasped.
While Max should have planned it better so that Jeremy’s first blow job lasted longer, he sucked harder, nodding. Desperate to taste him, knowing he was the first person to have this, he rolled Jeremy’s balls in his hand, and that was all it took. Shit, Max hadn’t even had time for nipple play, but whatever—his mouth was flooded as Jeremy emptied, shaking and gasping.
Max eased him through it, milking him until he could tell it was too much. He nuzzled at Jeremy’s balls, rubbing his face on the wiry ginger hair before kissing his way up Jeremy’s splayed body. Max shoved to his feet—shut up, stupid knee—and they rolled and tangled on the narrow bed.
“Is it always that good?” Jeremy asked sleepily, his lashes fanned over his flushed, freckled cheeks. He snuggled close. They both had their junk hanging out, but Max yanked the duvet over them.
“Sometimes,” Max lied. The truth that he’d never been this turned on in his whole damn life was far too new. Not only new—a little scary, which made him feel childish to admit.
The warning signs had been flashing, alarms blaring, and now he had to admit this thing with Jeremy was building like a snowball barreling downhill. Now he just had to figure out how far he was going to let them ride before putting on the brakes.
“What’s got your dick in a twist?”
Max had to laugh before shrugging. “It’s nothing.”
Meg only watched him as she sipped her latte as they left the cafe.
Max sighed. “It’s this guy.”
Her thick eyebrows shot up. “Someone’s finally stormed that beach? Do tell. Not that I don’t appreciate you buying me a good-luck coffee before my exam, but—” She jerked to a stop at the curb and yelled to the bike rider who sped past, “Watch it! You’re supposed to stop at red lights!” She shook her head, sandy brown ponytail swaying as she rolled her blue eyes. “Fucking people.”
Meg took another sip as they crossed the street. “You were saying?” She wiped foam from her upper lip. Her light cheeks were rosy in the cold, which made Max think of Jeremy.
Focus. “No one’s storming the beach. It’s nothing like that. He’s a first year. Just a kid.” I’m only helping him out. Friends with benefits! “He fell on some ice, and I gave him a hand. Anyway, he seemed a little…lost. I figured it couldn’t hurt to be nice, and we’re friends now.” That was true enough.
Suddenly, all he could think about was how Jeremy’s whole face changed when he really smiled—his cheeks creased and eyes crinkling under his glasses, the flash of his white teeth and how his nose scrunched up a bit.
All he could think about was when he’d kiss that face again.
“Ah. Didn’t realize you had a new project.”
Max rolled his eyes and rubbed his face, wiping away the smile that had automatically tugged his lips when he thought of Jeremy’s grin. “He’s not a ‘project.’ What’s so bad about helping people when I can?”
“There’s nothing bad about it. Josh Singh would still have a unibrow and be wearing floods if you hadn’t stepped in. How’s he doing, by the way?”
“Seems good. Finishing at Queens this year, and he’s engaged to his girlfriend.”
“Cool. So what’s the prob with your new protégé?”
“He came out to his family in the summer and it went pretty badly. Hasn’t really talked to them much in months. He’s from Victoria, so he’ll be on campus alone over the holidays. I was just thinking about how much that would suck.”
Meg’s mouth drew down. “Shit. It really would. Poor kid. Are you going to invite him to come home with us?”
And there it was, the idea that had been silently looping around his brain, building up steam. “I should, right?” Hell, it was technically Meg’s suggestion.
“Mom and Dad won’t mind. There’s plenty of room.”
“Yeah. They won’t.”
It still gave him a pang, the easy way Meg called Max’s father “dad.” She’d been younger when their parents got together, so maybe that was it. Max had always called Meg’s mom her given name, Valerie. He’d already had a mom, and he was probably too old to start calling her anything different now. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to.
Shaking off the vague, bittersweet memories of his mom, he refocused and asked Meg, “You wouldn’t mind?”
“Nope. The more the merrier. If he’s just a friend, they won’t be weird about it. You remember that torturous Thanksgiving weekend when I brought Craig home?”
“Ugh, Craig. I forgot about that guy.”