Chapter 11

“Lube,” I murmur. “It’s been awhile.”

He rummages in the drawer of the bedside cupboard where he unloaded our stuff when we arrived. I can hear him uncapping the bottle, the quiet pop of a stray bubble at the nozzle. Then his cool, lubricated finger presses gently into the crease of my buttocks. I chuckle.

“Dan?” He sounds wary.

“Tickles,” I say. “Go on.” When his finger eases into me, I concentrate on that feeling and nothing more. I know it’s Aaron’s touch, and I know that touch will never deliberately hurt me. I let my body relax and my nerves absorb the movement inside me. He stretches me gently, almost reverently, and occasionally he brushes against that spot inside me that’s known very little action for so many months. It sends shivers down my spine and sets up a deep, anticipatory ache inside my groin. I slide my hand along my swelling cock, marvelling at its sensitivity, marvelling at Aaron’s effect on me.