Rise Above This

After I closed the door to our room, I was pushed up against the door. Tom attached his lips to mine and ran his tongue along my bottom lip. Deciding to make him wait, I didn’t let him in.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and he placed his hands on my hips, pressing his against mine. I gasped, giving Tom an opportunity to practically shove his tongue down my throat.

We stayed like that for a minute when he broke the kiss and attached his lips to my neck. Again. His hand went under my shirt, my stomach muscles tensing up under his touch. His other hand was still on my hip, no space left between our bodies whatsoever.

He stopped his attack on my neck at pressed his lips to mine again before grabbing my hand and dragging me to one of the beds. We sat down and started kissing again when his hand went to my pants. Oh God. What is he doing?

I broke the kiss and said, “I’m not ready for that.”

He pecked my lips and said, “Don’t worry. We’re not going all the way. I’m just going to make you feel good.”

Nervous about what he meant, I nodded and kissed him again. His hand went back to my pants and he started rubbing me through my jeans. I broke the kiss and rested my head on Tom’s shoulder as he rubbed me though my jeans, moaning quietly so we didn’t attract unwanted attention.

After a bit, Tom stopped rubbing. Which earned a whine from me. “Don’t worry Billa,” he said, “I’m not stopping and leaving you like this.”

I nodded when he started undoing the button and zipper of my jeans. I shimmied out of the jeans (they’re tight enough as it is) and was left in my boxer briefs. I felt a blush rise to my cheeks as Tom grazed his hand over my crotch. “I have no idea what I’m doing, by the way,” Tom said, “I’m just going with what I would like someone to do to me.”

“Okay,” I said, my head still on his shoulder, when his hand went under my boxer briefs and around my aching length. I shuddered at his warm, calloused touch when he started moving his hand up and down, slowly at first. It was strange. It was like masturbating, but again not. Well, seeing as it’s not my hand jacking me off.

Quiet moans escaped past my lips as Tom picked up his pace. I guess he was getting used to it like I was. My hand slid under his shirt, manicured nails trailing down his stomach. “Does it feel good, Bill?” Tom asked.

All I could do was nod. Mainly because the only sound leaving my mouth was moan after moan. “Do you want it faster?” he asked.

I nodded again. His hand picked up the pace, causing me to bury my face in the crook of Tom’s neck. Hey, I had to muffle the loud moaning somehow.

After what felt like hours (although it was probably only a minute or two), I came in Tom’s hand. Embarrassment washed over me. He pulled his hand out and wiped it on the bed. “They can clean it later,” Tom said, “You look tired Billa. Let’s get some rest, okay?”

“You’re fault,” I yawned.

“Why?”

I looked from him to my lap and back to him. “Oh. That’s why you blame me,” he said smirking, “You know, you could have told me not to and I would have stopped.”

“Me? Tell you to stop? Psh. Not happening,” I said snuggling into him, “Felt too good.”

Tom smirked. “Good to hear,” he said before stripping down to nothing but his boxers and laying down. I couldn’t help but look at his body. You can tell he goes to the gym. Not often, but enough.

I threw my shirt off and laid next to him. My hand made little circles on his stomach, going lower ever so slowly. Tom had his eyes closed, enjoying the feeling on my nails grazing his stomach. My hand went lower all the way down to his boxers. I slipped my hand under and Tom whispered, “Billa, you don’t have to.”

I looked up at him and said, “I want to, though. I want to make you feel as good as I felt.”

And with that being said, I wrapped my hand around his length and started stroking it. Tom’s breath hitched up in his throat as my hand worked its way up and down his length. His quiet moans filled the room and he tangled his fingers in my hair. My name escaped his lips in the form of a moan. His back arched as I picked up my pace, his moans growing louder. My name left his lips again, louder than last time. I pressed my lips to his so he wouldn’t be as loud. I straddled him, causing him to sit up. My hand continued working its way up and down Tom’s hardened length and I attached my lips to his neck.

“Billa,” he softly moaned, “Baby, don’t stop.”

I ran my tongue over his neck, the piercing running along the vein in his neck. He rested on my hips, his grip tightening as my hand quickened its pace until he came. He buried his face in the crook of my neck so he wouldn’t awaken the others.

I pulled my hand out of his boxers and rested my forehead against his shoulder. His breathing was evening out and the grip on my hips loosened. I felt him press his lips to my shoulder and whisper, “Wow.”

I nodded and yawned. “I’m sleepy, Tomi,” I said.

“I bet,” he said, “Come on. Lay down with me.”

I nodded. He laid down and I laid next to him. “Hey Tomi?”

“Yeah, Billa?”

“I think tonight ended perfectly.”

“Yeah. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that to you. Make you feel like that and know that it was my doing,” he whispered.

I shuddered, but not in a bad way. “I love you, Tom.”

“I love you, too, Bill,” he said pulling me close to him.