Puppy Love

Part 15

Shawn pushed through his front door at around ten in the morning, giddy as he recounted the few events he could remember from the previous night. He had taken you to the Cameron House to get a feel for the atmosphere but consumed a couple too many and his memory was left fuzzy. If he was correct, he could recount something along the lines of calling Geoff, commenting on your 'juicy' thighs, and passing out on your bed.

His head was pounding, but it had been worth it.

Aware that you had classes, he insisted on making you breakfast and getting out of your hair as quickly as possible. As much as he wanted to stay and keep you company, and maybe even give you some extra lovin', he knew it would be best to give you your space.

This called for some alone-time on his part, too.

Geoff immediately curled up in the corner of the messy living room, stretching out her furry legs and drifting into a light sleep. Shawn took a breath, unsure if he was about to throw up or pass out when he decided it would probably be good to have a hot shower. For the hangover, really. And other activities.

He set his phone and keys on the kitchen counter as he made a beeline for his bedroom, stripping down on the way. First came off his black t-shirt, followed by his socks and black skinny jeans. Shawn pulled a towel from the rack and looked himself over in the bathroom mirror, heart fluttering at the sight of the hickies strewn across his chest and down his abdomen from nights before. Never in his life had he been so passionate about a lover, considering they hadn't even had sex yet.

He peeled his grey Under Armour boxer briefs down his thighs and cranked the shower knob counterclockwise, feeling the stream of water with his hand until it reached the right temperature.

A huff of air escaped his chest as he stepped into the glass compartment, water droplets coating his soft skin and waking him up from his fuzzy state.

He was no longer concerned with the hangover now that he had noticed her love marks in the mirror. He leaned forward, examining his firm middle and admiring the soft pink ovals in random places. One on his hip, another on his side. Different shades of magenta strewn across his chest. A deep purple one was nestled in his inner thigh, pulling a giggle from his windpipe as he remembered the sloppy blowjob he received after eating you out twice a couple of days prior.

His lip was still healing from Greg's violent antics, but the temporary tattoos of your affection peppered over his skin made up for it.

His fingers mindlessly traced down his body as he touched each one, trying his best to remember when exactly you'd left it there. Some were from two days before, some a week old. All were lovely. He thought back to snuggling you naked, lightly grazing your slick folds with his firm tip. He wanted you so bad, and you felt so soft and ready.

It was inevitable: he was hard.

A smirk stretched across Shawn's cheeks as he gripped the base of his swollen shaft, laughing to himself at the realization that he hadn't done this in a while. He hadn't needed to, really. He had you.

He thanked his lucky stars for blessing him with a girlfriend as his satisfactory touch began to pleasure his hard cock, knowing damn well that you could do better.

His head tilted back, soaking his curls and slicking his hair against his scalp as his face fell into the stream of droplets. He began pumping, squeezing, and twisting. It was all too much. He was too eager, too consumed by the thoughts of your eyes and your lips and your pretty little pussy to contain himself.

A deep groan escaped his pink lips as he leaned against the tile wall, squeezing his balls with his left hand as his tattooed one jacked off his hardened length.