Firsts and Lasts
The next morning the heat was already waiting.
I woke up sore in a way that felt new and good, like my body remembered him even before my brain caught up. Mom and Dad were both gone again. The house sat quiet except for the box fans and the faint scrape of a ladder outside.
I pulled on a pair of shorts and nothing else and went out the side door.
Nathan was already on the north side of the house, finishing the last stretch of trim. Same tank top, same short shorts, same tan and light hair catching the sun. He looked up when he heard the door and something easy moved across his face.
“Morning.”
“Morning.” I walked over, still a little shy and a lot more sure of myself than yesterday. “You almost done?”
“Last of it.” He dipped the brush, dragged it along the edge of the window. “I’ll come in when I finish this side. That okay?”
“Yeah.” I stood there a second longer than I needed to, watching the way his arms flexed. “I want to suck your dick.”
The words came out plainer than I meant. Nathan’s brush paused. He looked at me over his shoulder, blue eyes catching the light, and a slow breath left him.
“Alright,” he said quietly. “Let me get this done.”
I went back inside and waited.
It didn’t take long. The back door opened, then closed. Nathan’s boots came off in the kitchen. When he found me in the hallway he was already pulling the tank top over his head. Sweat shone on his chest and stomach. The smell of him hit me again—paint, sunscreen, skin, heat.
“Come here,” he said.
We ended up in my room with the door shut and the window still open from yesterday. Nathan sat on the edge of the bed and drew me between his knees. His hands settled on my hips.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
He unbuttoned his shorts and pushed them down enough to get his cock out. It was already thickening, heavy and warm in the afternoon air, a bead of wetness at the slit. I went to my knees because it felt like the right place to be.
“Take your time,” Nathan said. His voice stayed low. “Use your hand at the base. Watch your teeth. Breathe through your nose when you go down.”
I wrapped my fingers around him. He was thicker than me, hotter, the skin velvety over the firmness underneath. I leaned in and licked the head first. Salt. Skin. A faint bitterness that made my stomach tighten. The smell of him was stronger this close—sweat, musk, the dark hair at the root of his cock. Nathan’s hand came to the back of my head, not pushing, just there.
I took him into my mouth the way he’d taken me yesterday—slow, testing. The weight of him on my tongue was more than I expected. I had to remember to breathe. When I went too far I gagged once, pulled off, spit shining on my lip, and he just stroked my hair.
“That’s it. You’re doing fine. Wet it more. Use your tongue on the underside.”
I did. I licked a long stripe from the base to the head, then took him again, hollowing my cheeks the way I thought I was supposed to. The wet sound of it filled the quiet room. My jaw started to ache. I used my hand the way he said, stroking what I couldn’t take, twisting a little on the upstroke. Nathan’s breathing changed. His thighs tensed under my palms.
“Fuck, Noah… just like that. You can go slower. Let me feel your mouth.”
I stayed with it, spit running down his shaft onto my fist. Every time I looked up his blue eyes were on me. I took him as deep as I could and held there, breathing through my nose, until my eyes watered. When I finally pulled off, a thin string of spit connected my lip to the head of him. Nathan looked wrecked in the best way.
He stood, lifted me up, and kissed me deep, tasting himself in my mouth.
“You’re sexy like this,” I said against his lips, because it was true and I needed him to hear it. “The way you look at me. Your body. All of it.”
Something flickered through his face. He kissed me again, harder, then turned me toward the bed.
“Lie down. On your stomach first.”
I did. He hooked my shorts and underwear down and off. The air moved over my ass and the backs of my thighs. Nathan’s hands spread me open, thumbs pressing into the muscle. I felt his breath before I felt his mouth.
The first lick made my whole body jerk. Hot, wet, deliberate. He dragged his tongue over my hole in a slow stripe, then again, firmer, then the point of it pressed in. The sound was filthy and close. I grabbed the sheets and pushed back into his face without meaning to. He made a low approving noise and kept going—broad licks, then sucking, then the wet push of his tongue inside me. One hand reached under me to stroke my cock while his mouth stayed right where it was. I was leaking onto the sheets, making sounds I couldn’t swallow.
“Nathan—”
He didn’t stop. He ate me until my thighs were shaking and I was grinding back on his tongue. When he finally lifted his head, his mouth was wet, chin shining. He kissed the small of my back.
I rolled over, breathing hard. “Can I—can I do that to you?”
Nathan’s eyes went darker. He nodded, stripped the rest of the way, and lay back on the bed. I settled between his legs. His hole was tight and pink, framed by dark hair, already a little slick from sweat. I leaned in.
I started careful. A single slow lick, tasting salt and skin, then another. The hair around his hole brushed my mouth. I was clumsy at first, unsure how much pressure to use, listening for every sound he made.
“That’s it,” Nathan said, voice already rough. “Just like that. You’re doing so good.”
The praise loosened something in me. I licked him again, firmer, then stayed there and really went at it—getting sloppy, spit wetting the hair around his hole, my tongue pushing in the way his had. I sucked, licked, pressed my face closer. His ass clenched under my mouth. I could smell him everywhere.
“Fuck, Noah—yes. Don’t stop. Your mouth feels incredible.”
I didn’t stop. I ate him until my jaw ached and his thighs were trembling and his cock was leaking a clear string onto his stomach. Nathan’s hand stayed in my hair, not forcing, just holding on, praising me in broken pieces every time I got messier.
“Just like that. God, you’re a natural. Keep going.”
That was when he reached down and tugged me up.
“You want to learn how to top?” His voice was wrecked. “I can take it. I’ve done this more than you have. If you want to go harder, or faster, that’s okay with me. Just—always check in with whoever you’re with. You stay kind. That’s the only rule.”
“Yeah. I want to.”
Nathan pulled me over him. Missionary. His legs opened around my hips. He slicked my cock with lube, then himself, and guided me to his hole.
The first press stole my breath. Heat. Tightness. The way his body gave and then held. I sank in slow, watching his face the whole time.
“You good?” I asked, because he’d told me to.
“Yeah.” He exhaled, then smiled a little. “Keep going. You can give me more.”
I did. Inch by inch until I was buried in him. His hole clenched around me, hot and wet and almost too much. The hair on his ass brushed the base of my cock every time I shifted. I stayed still for a second just to feel it.
“Fuck,” I whispered. “You’re so tight. And hot. I can feel you squeezing me. I love how wet it feels.”
“That’s it.” Nathan’s hands were on my ass, not rushing me. “Move when you’re ready.”
I started slow. The slide of it was unlike anything from yesterday—being the one inside, feeling him take me. His body gripped and released. Every thrust dragged that wet heat along my cock. I could hear how slick we were. I could see the way his stomach tensed, the dark trail of hair, the flush on his chest.
“Harder if you want,” he said after a while. “I’m okay. Just don’t forget to look at me.”
I looked at him. Then I gave him more. Deeper. A little faster. The bed creaked. Sweat ran down my spine and dripped onto his skin. His hole kept clenching, milking me, and the warm wet feeling of it made my head drop to his shoulder.
“You’re so sexy,” I got out. “The way you take it. The way you look when I’m in you.”
Nathan groaned and pulled me down into a kiss.
When we shifted, it was him who moved us. He rolled us so I was on my back and swung a leg over my hips. Cowboy. He reached back, lined me up, and sank down onto my cock in one long, controlled drop.
The angle was different. Deeper. I could see everything—his thighs, his chest, the way his cock bounced as he started to ride me. He took me the way he wanted, rising and falling, using me. I held his hips and thrust up to meet him.
“Still good?” I asked.
“Yeah.” His voice was wrecked. “You feel so fucking good. Don’t stop.”
We found a rhythm. Harder now. His ass slapped down against me. The wet sound was loud in the room. I stroked his cock the way he’d stroked mine yesterday, firm, matching the way he rode. His hole kept fluttering and gripping, that same hot tightness, the hair at the base of him brushing me on every downstroke.
Nathan leaned down, almost folding over me, still rolling his hips, still bucking onto my cock. The kiss he gave me was open and wet. His armpit was right there—damp, dark with hair, the smell of him sharp and clean and filthy at the same time. I turned my face into it without thinking, breathed him in, then licked.
Nathan’s whole body reacted. A broken sound left his throat. I felt his cock twitch hard in my fist.
I did it again, slower, tasting salt and skin. He shuddered on top of me and rode me deeper.
He grabbed my chin, tipped my face up, and kissed me firm—possessive, hungry.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he said against my mouth. “The way you do that. The way you look under me. Don’t stop.”
I didn’t. I licked his pit again while he fucked himself on my cock, while I stroked him in time with every drop of his hips. The heat of his hole, the wet clutch of it, the brush of his hair, the taste of his sweat—it was all too much.
“Nathan—”
“I’ve got you. Come whenever you need to. I’m close.”
He rode me through it, deeper, a little rougher, still watching my face. When I came it tore through me—spilling up into him, pulsing, my hips jerking off the bed. Nathan’s hole clenched hard around me as he followed, coming over my fist and onto my stomach in thick stripes, a low broken sound leaving his throat.
He stayed on me afterward, breathing hard, my cock still inside him while it softened. Then he eased off carefully and collapsed beside me.
We lay there in the heat, sweaty, sticky, the fans doing almost nothing. Nathan’s hand found the back of my neck and stayed there. I could feel his heartbeat against my shoulder. The room smelled like sex and paint and summer.
“You did good,” he said after a while. “First time topping too.”
I laughed, wrecked and quiet. “You made it easy.”
He kissed my temple, then the corner of my mouth. His fingers traced slow circles on my back. Neither of us rushed to get up. I listened to him breathe. He asked if I needed water. I said I was fine. He asked again anyway, the same way he had yesterday, like checking in was just how he was built.
“I’m glad it was you,” I said into his chest.
Nathan’s arm tightened around me. “Me too.”
We stayed like that until the light in the room had shifted and the last of the afternoon started to go.
The last of the trim was done by late afternoon. I walked him out to the truck.
We stood there in the driveway, the sun lower, the house looking finished behind us. Nathan put his arms around me. I put mine around him. The hug was deep and tight and lasted longer than a friendly one should have. When we pulled back he kissed me—nice, on the mouth, not hungry, just real.
“Take care of yourself at school,” he said.
“I will.” My throat felt tight. “Thank you. For… all of it.”
“Thank you.” He meant it. I could hear it.
There was a second where neither of us moved. A small hesitation, like there was more that wouldn’t get said. Then he got in the truck, started it, and lifted a hand as he pulled away.
I stood in the driveway until he was gone.
I still think about those two evenings.
I’ve had wilder nights since then. Faster. Dirtier. Things that would have made eighteen-year-old me blush until I couldn’t see straight. But I’ve never had another man handle me the way Nathan did—careful without being precious, hungry without being careless, present the whole time. The heat, the paint smell, the way he looked at me when he said he’d go slow. The way he let me learn him the next day.
It set the bar. I’ve spent the years since measuring other men against it, and most of them don’t come close. I don’t regret that it was only those two days. I’m just glad it was him.
