We Shouldn’t Do This

A few seconds later he began rubbing his butt up against my thigh and caressing my lower leg with his feet. And when I rolled over and started spooning him and running my cold hands up and down his torso, he didn’t flinch away. I heard him exhale. Not only had he taken off his shoes before slipping into bed, way before the movie even began, he had also taken off his shirt and jeans. Meanwhile fully clothed I laid, even though you know how much I hate sleeping with my socks on.

Andrew exhaled again, and I started fingering the elastic on his boxer briefs and getting down close to his crotch. But then I stopped. He noticed I stopped. And I turned over and closed my eyes — tired, drunk and stoned. But then he rolled over and got so close to me that I could feel him breathing on my cheek as he poked my hips with his knees. And when I turned my head to look at him, waiting for an explanation, he didn’t look away. So I kissed him, and he kissed me back briefly, softly, before he closed his mouth, recoiled back gently and said, ‘We shouldn’t do this.’ 

Excerpt, Confessions of a Boy Toy

Oscar Raymundo
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