The Muse's Undoing

I shrug. Seems safe enough. Comparatively speaking.

“Yeah. Sure,” he says.

I blink in surprise.

“You called me uptight earlier.”

“I called you a lot of things,” I murmur.

“Let’s go jerk off then.”

“Fine. Let’s go.”

We work ourselves out of each other’s arms and off the couch.

I expect us to separate. Sit on opposite sides of the amphitheater or something, but he sits next to me when I find a spot next to a couple getting each other off in plain view. I figure it’ll give me more fodder than the relatively tame feather action at center stage.

I give Fischer a look as he unbuckles his belt, and half his mouth lifts in a devious grin.

How the fuck did we talk ourselves into this? If we aren’t already, we’ll be bonded for life after this.

13

FISCHER

It feels like a dare. A way to prove I’m not uptight. I’m buzzed, but far from drunk, and Gavin’s spanking demo got me at least as horny as Matthew is. I was dangerously close to humping his leg on the couch just to manage my need for friction, so this is safer territory regardless of the fact that our thighs are still touching, but only because he manspreads like he’s a foot taller than he actually is.

“Is this your first buddy jerk?” I ask Matthew.

“Yeah.”

It’s not mine, but what happened in the dorm room, stays in the dorm room. I smirk. “You’re not going soft on me are you?”

His stormy gaze narrows. “No.” Like he needs to prove the point, he undoes his pants and pulls out his cock. I glance briefly at it before meeting his eyes. I got a good enough look to know he’s packing, but that’s not news. Back when he was living with me, he’d pop a boner while he was sleeping from time to time, and when he was spooning me, I got the sense he was bigger than the average guy, but it’s still thicker than I pictured. Like it should be on a guy with more muscle.

As for mine, I figure it suits me. I’m six feet, a hundred and eighty pounds. My cock is proportionate. Not camboy huge but nothing to be ashamed of. And God knows, Matthew’s seen it more than his fair share of times, so it’s no big reveal when I whip it out. He doesn’t even check it out.

The steps of the amphitheater are padded and deep, plenty of room to lounge back or lie down with a partner. Matthew leans on an elbow and takes his thick length in hand, eyes trained on the woman being tickled in the pussy with a feather. We have a good view of her trembling thighs and her heaving breasts as she gets close again.

“You need lube?” Matthew asks.

“You have some?”

“Sure.”

He digs in his pocket and pulls out two packets.

Handy.

I rip mine open with my teeth and squeeze it onto my cock, slicking myself up with a squelching sound. “Mmm…” It feels so good, I give myself a few more slow strokes as I lean back with Matthew to get more comfortable.

“You planning to take your time, or…?”

I glance over at his hand, which is moving faster than mine, twisting his grip and handling himself roughly. I use a lighter touch, bouncing my length in my hand. “Is it a race?”

“You should get your nut out. Play with it.”

“I think I know how to masturbate,” I assure him.