First Time I Compared Dicks With The Neighbor Boy 04: Naked Boys On The Floor (Patreon)

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Chapter 4: Naked Boys On The Floor

I stayed on my back for a long time after that with my foot still touching Rhys', and I did not fall asleep even a little.

It randomly hit me like a ton of bricks. His nickname, Peanut Butter Cup, it's because his name is Rhys. I slapped my palm onto my forehead. I couldn't believe they'd humored me like that. Maybe they thought I was joking.

Rhys' foot moved against mine, maybe in his sleep, and I stayed quiet after that.

One strip of light came across the ceiling from the little window well, and every couple minutes there was a burst of laughing up there, a whole crowd of it, then it settled back down into a hum of voices and dice hitting a table. 

I, however, wasn't tired yet.

Jax was breathing loudly by the stairs. It was a strange sound, wet and irregular, like his airway kept closing and reopening. Brent's screen was still lit near the outlet and it threw a blue rectangle on the ceiling that shifted every time he swiped. I couldn't believe the moms all stayed up longer than us, but I guess we tuckered ourselves out.

I rolled onto my side so I was facing Rhys.

I did it slowly enough that I could have just been adjusting in my sleeping bag. He was already facing me. His eyes were open and I could see the shine of them from the window light. They looked bigger than before. And there was a gap of carpet between the two sleeping bags where the edges did not quite overlap, and both of our knees crossed it at the same time. His bare knee against mine.

His foot moved first. The side of it slid off mine and up my shin, bare skin dragging on bare skin under the blanket, slowly, all the way to my knee, and then his leg hooked there and stayed. I could feel the little hairs on his calf.

Then he came forward and kissed me.

It was barely a kiss. Almost no pressure in it at all, just his mouth touching mine and staying there. His breath still had a minty taste. I lay there for a couple seconds with my hands where they were and my heart slamming into my ribs, and then I pushed back into it and opened my mouth.

He made a small gasp into me when I did that.

His hand came up and held the side of my jaw and he kissed me properly then, his tongue coming into my mouth. Kissing a guy was different from kissing a girl. The muscles in his jaw were firm under my palm when I put my hand on his face, soft stubble catching on my fingers, and I could feel the strength in his neck every time he pressed forward. He kissed like he was hungry for it. I got my hand around the back of his head into his short hair and pulled him harder onto my mouth.

The laughing upstairs came down again in a big burst, twelve women all at once, close enough overhead that I could hear a chair scrape.

He kept his mouth on mine and his hand slid off my jaw down to my throat and rested there, warm, and I kissed him during all the racket happening above our heads.

He pulled back an inch.

"Hey," he barely whispered.

"Hey."

We looked at each other for a second.

I shoved my shorts down without sitting up, working them past my hips with both thumbs, and got them to my ankles and kicked them off into the dark, past the bottom of the sleeping bag. My underwear went with them. I heard him doing his own next to me, the same shuffling, and then his bare leg came back over mine with nothing between us.

I was already hard. He was too, and it pressed against my hip when he got close again, hot. I could feel the upward curve I saw before, shoving into the crease where my leg met my balls.

Our hands crossed. He reached for me and I reached for him and our forearms bumped, and then we sorted it out, my hand around his thick base and his around mine, and we held each other and kissed like that for a while, gently stroking each other, both of us on our sides, hips angled together, shirts still on, everything below the waist bare. Our knuckles bumped between our stomachs.

The kissing turned wet and clumsy. Our noses kept knocking together. He would tilt his head one way and I would tilt the same way and we would collide, and he laughed once into my mouth, and I felt that laugh travel down his body into my hand.

I ran my fingernails up his back under his shirt, then down the ridge of his spine, past the small of his back where it dipped in, and then I grabbed onto his ass. I got a whole handful of it, firm and round, and it flexed under my palm every time his hips pushed forward into my other hand. I kept it there for a long time, squeezing, and he pushed back into my grip, grinding his cheek up into one hand and his dick into the other.

He pulled his mouth off mine and put it against my ear.

"Can you fuck me," he whispered.

I stopped squeezing. My whole hand just froze on his ass.

"I've never," I said.

"I know."

"Not even with a girl yet."

"I know," he said again, and his hand tightened on my dick.

I let it all happen as he slid out from under the blanket and got up on his hands and knees, crawling over the carpet toward the stairs, bare-assed in his t-shirt, his balls swinging under him in the strip of window light, right past Jax's head. Jax kept snoring. I heard the zipper on the bag, slowly, one tooth at a time, and then he came crawling back with the lube in his fist.

He got back under the blanket facing me and thumbed the cap open. That click was unbelievably loud in the dark.

He squeezed some onto his fingers and reached down and coated my dick with it, taking my mind back to when I stuck it into the fleshlight the first time. Cold at first, a couple long pulls that nearly finished me right there, and then he squeezed more out and reached back behind himself and worked it into his own hole with his own fingers. My mind raced as I watched him finger himself. It almost never occurred to me what it would look like for a guy to do that. 

I could feel his arm working against my stomach and I could hear his breathing change, and once his elbow jerked and hit me hard, making me flinch and giggle.

Then he pulled my arm over his ribs.

"Come here," he said.

I got close behind him, my chest against his back, my knees tucked in behind his knees, his shirt riding up between us. He reached back between his legs and got hold of me and put my head right up against himself, and then he pushed back.

The first push did nothing. He was tight and I was slippery and it just slid off to the side and down under his balls. He grabbed me again and held me there harder and pushed back again, and the head popped in.

I made a sound. It came out of me more boyish than I expected, and Rhys reached back and grabbed my jaw to keep me silent as he kept pushing.

He did not stop once he started, and I slid into him in one long, slow push, my hand reaching around to find a natural position holding him tight against me, and he grunted and took it and kept backing up until his ass was flush against my hips and there was no more of me to give him.

I was inside a person.

I had my dick all the way in a guy on my neighbor's basement floor and it was nothing like the toy. The toy was a tight tube of silicone ridges and everyone else's cum as lube. This was hot and soft and it gripped me everywhere at once, and it moved on its own, tightening around me every time he breathed out, like it was trying to pull me in deeper than I could go.

My arm locked around his chest and I shoved my face into the back of his neck. I was breathing his sweat and his hair and I could feel his heart pounding under a tight, male chest against my forearm, as fast as mine.

He started rocking. Small at first, pulling forward an inch and pushing back, and I felt myself slide almost out of him and then back to the hilt, and he did it again, and again, and my hips picked it up on their own without my brain having anything to do with it.

Rhys reached back and grabbed my ass with one hand and pulled me into him on every push.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Like that."

"Is it," I said into his neck. "Is that okay."

"Yeah."

I fucked him, and my hips figured out the thrusting on their own, some natural instinct taking over me. I had never done this motion with anything but my fist and occasionally a pillow or a blanket, and it turned out my body already knew what to do. The same rolling push I did into the fleshlight, except now there was a whole guy taking it, who breathed and moved and grabbed back.

I wanted it to last longer than the fleshlight did. This felt too good to blast off in ninety seconds again. So I moved slowly. 

I pulled back until just the head was still in him, held there, and rolled forward again until the curve of his ass met my hips with a soft, wet, warm slap, quiet enough that it didn't make us pause. Then again. His cheeks were warm against my stomach and my thighs and I could feel the shape of them flattening against me every time I bottomed out.

His shoulder blades pressed into my chest. I had my hand up under his shirt, flat on his chest, and I used it to hold him back onto me, my fingers spread over the hard muscle there, feeling it rise and fall. His heart was thumping against my palm. My other arm was under his neck and he had his head resting on it, his short hair scratching at my bicep every time he moved.

We shifted together, and every time I pushed all the way in, he let out a breath. A little grunt, short and low, pushed out of him by my hips more than anything he was doing on purpose, and I started timing myself to it. Push, grunt. Pull back, silence. Push, grunt. I could feel it in my palm too, his ribs jumping under my hand with each one.

And when I pulled back he held onto me. He clamped down and dragged on me the whole way out, so I felt every inch of the friction, hot and tight and pulling at my skin, and then when I pushed back in he loosened and took me and clamped again at the bottom. He was doing that on purpose. I could tell because he did it harder when I slowed down, squeezing me like he was trying to keep me from leaving.

I put my mouth against the back of his ear. I did not say anything. I just nibbled on him and breathed onto him and kept rolling into him, slowly, my hips finding the same beat over and over, the sleeping bag sliding a little under us with each push. My balls were already tight up against me and I had to think about the group of ladies upstairs to stop myself from finishing.

His hand came back and squeezed my thigh.

"I love it," he whispered.

That was when the warmth arrived along my back.

Somebody was on my sleeping bag behind me. He got down slowly, one knee first and then the length of his body pressed up against me, his chest against my shoulder blades and his arm over my ribs, and I knew it was Clark before he touched me anywhere else, because of the long, heavy weight pressed into the cheek of my ass.