Okay, something people seem to forget is that just because I’m horny or obsessed over a guy...and just because that guy is kissing the shit out of me...and just because I’m enjoying the shit out of him doing it...I’ll get all stupid. Blind. Or maybe a better way of putting that would be, unable to pay attention to reality.
Which is really insulting.
I mean, yeah...Niko’s kisses were the epitome of perfection, and him molding his body against mine was breathtaking in so many fucking ways...except for this one weird little issue.
No hint of his dick pressing against me.
He wasn’t hard.
Not erect.
My dick’s as solid as a John Holmes dildo, raging in my briefs and really obnoxiously so...but he’s got nothing. To the extent I’m beginning to wonder if he’s trans.
Of course, I knew better, all the research I’d done on him.
But that wasn’t the only thing bothering me.
The sliding glass doors to the yard are still open, and you don’t let something like those stay open overnight. You’ll wind up with some homeless person sleeping on your couch or, as once happened to me, taking a dump on your coffee table while zonked out of his mind.
So I tried to move him back so I could shift around to close it, saying, “C’mon, Niko, lemme lock the front...”
But he grabbed my wrists and held my hands over my head while crushing me against the wall, pinning me. Shutting my words off.
That’s when I chuckled, “Niko, come on, I...I need to close the door.”
He silenced me with another kiss.
Which was beginning to piss me off. So I yanked my hands away and pushed at him but he had braced himself against me by propping his legs at an angle and barely moved...and that’s when I noticed...
Ben and Liam entering at the sliding glass door.
Looking sneaky.
And holding rope.
Bam, inner wildcat took over. I kneed Niko in the balls...and it turned out he does have them. And a dick. Because he howled and dropped and I scampered back into the kitchen, where I grabbed a knife, and held it in my best serial killer way. Which stopped the boys at the kitchen door.
“All right, boys,” I growled, “who’s going to explain this?”
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