Recap: After their first fuck together, Greg had been a little distant from Alex. Not in a cold or strange way, but in the sense that he didn’t push for anything intimate again. Instead, he had been kinder, softer, treating Alex with a quiet patience that only made things more complicated.
For Alex, that restraint didn’t ease the tension. If anything, his attraction to Greg grew sharper. Every casual touch, every quiet moment they shared outside of work left Alex restless and craving more. The feelings he had tried so hard to suppress now burned stronger than ever, until finally he decided he couldn’t keep it inside any longer. Late one night, nerves twisting in his stomach, he left his room and walked straight to Greg’s door, ready to face what he wanted.
I stood outside his door for longer than I’d ever admit, heart beating so hard I thought it might wake him before I even knocked. The hall was quiet, the faint hum of the city outside muffled by the thick walls of the apartment. My bare feet shifted against the floor, restless, my hand hovering near the doorframe, unsure if I should just walk away.
But I couldn’t.
The tension had been eating me alive since that night. Since he’d pressed inside me for the first time. Since my boss had taken my virginity like it was the most natural thing in the world. And then the days that followed…normal days, workdays, grocery runs, quick dinners where Greg acted like nothing had changed at all. Like he could sit across the table from me shirtless, or drive me to work with his cologne filling the car, or bump my shoulder in the kitchen without his cock ever having been inside me.
It was driving me insane.
I finally knocked. Quiet, hesitant.
“Yeah?” His voice rumbled through the door, casual, like always.
I pushed it open slowly. Greg was lying on the bed, propped against the headboard, shirtless as usual, the blanket loose around his waist. His phone screen glowed against his chest, his hand scrolling lazily, one arm bent behind his head. His muscles caught the lamplight, every shadow deepening his chest, his abs, the trail of hair disappearing beneath the blanket.
He looked up, surprised but not bothered. “Hey. What’s up, Alex?”
I swallowed, suddenly aware of how dry my throat was. I stepped inside, shutting the door behind me, and moved toward the bed. My hands were clammy. My cock was already half-hard, just from the sight of him stretched out like that, broad and relaxed in my sheets.
“I… uh.” My voice cracked. I cleared my throat. “I wanted to talk.”
He shifted slightly, sliding his phone onto the nightstand. He patted the space beside him, scooting over. “Come.. sit down.”
I climbed onto the mattress, sitting cross-legged beside him, but leaving a careful space. His body heat reached me anyway.
Silence stretched. I stared at my hands, then at the blanket, then at his chest, and quickly back down.
Greg tilted his head. “Alright. What’s on your mind?”
I hesitated, the words pressing at the back of my throat, sharp and restless, but refusing to come out. My fingers twisted in the blanket at my side, pulling the fabric tight. I could feel him looking at me, waiting, and the pressure only made my chest tighter.
Finally, I let it spill, voice small and shaky. “Since that night…” I stopped, my lips parting like the rest of the sentence had been stolen out of me. I stared down at my hands, picking at the skin around my thumb, trying again. “Since we… since we slept together.” My cheeks burned at how blunt it sounded. “Did I mess things up between us?”
The words tumbled out fast, clumsy, and then just hung there, heavy in the air. I bit down on my lip, wishing I could shove them back into my mouth.
Greg didn’t answer right away. The silence stretched, loud in my ears. I imagined him shifting uncomfortably, searching for a way to tell me it was a mistake. My stomach twisted.
I risked a glance at him, then looked away just as quick. He was still, his eyes steady on me, unreadable. That only made my nerves worse.
“I mean,” I rushed on, filling the quiet, “you’ve been different. Quieter. I don’t know. I just keep thinking maybe you regret it. Or maybe you’re trying to pretend it didn’t happen.” My throat was tight, each word scraping its way out. “And I… I don’t know if I should’ve done it. If I crossed some line I can’t uncross.”
My voice cracked at the end, and I hated how fragile I sounded.
Greg leaned back slightly against the headboard, rubbing his jaw, like he was buying himself time. His silence felt like confirmation of my worst fears, and I rushed to soften the blow before he could say it out loud.
“It’s okay if you do regret it,” I added quickly, my words overlapping themselves. “I mean, I get it. You’ve never… with a guy before. You just got divorced… the thing with your ex…wife..You were curious…. It probably shouldn’t have happened.”
The more I spoke, the more pathetic I felt, like I was begging him not to throw me away even as I handed him all the reasons to do it. My chest ached.
Finally, he let out a low breath, almost like a laugh, shaking his head slightly.
“No,” he said simply. His voice was calm, sure. “You didn’t mess anything up.”
That stopped me cold.
I looked at him, really looked this time. His expression wasn’t hard or closed off like I’d braced for. It was softer than I’d expected, his eyes steady, almost careful.
“It’s just—” he broke the silence again, rubbing at his jaw, thoughtful, searching for words. “I’m not acting weird because I regret it.” He paused, his gaze flicking to mine and then holding it, something heavier settling in his eyes. “I’m acting weird because I can’t stop thinking about it. And it’s fucking with my head.”
My chest tightened. His words hit harder than I expected.
“You… can’t stop thinking about it?” I asked, voice small.
He nodded slowly, eyes never leaving mine. “Yeah. Every time I sit next to you. Every time you walk by. I keep remembering how you sounded, how you felt. It’s like my brain won’t shut the fuck up about it.”
I swallowed hard, my cock throbbing against the fabric of my shorts. The air between us felt heavy, thick with things unsaid.
“I want it again Mr Lawson,” I admitted, voice breaking. “Badly.”
The second it was out, I regretted how desperate it sounded. But Greg didn’t laugh. He didn’t make it a joke.
Instead, he leaned in to kiss me.
The kiss was slow..His lips pressed against mine, firm and warm, his hand cupping the side of my neck, thumb brushing the corner of my jaw. My eyes fluttered shut, and I kissed him back, hungry but careful, tasting him, feeling the heat of his chest as he leaned closer.
It felt different. More dangerous, more real.
I gasped softly into his mouth when his hand slid down my side, gripping my waist, tugging me closer. My knee bumped his thigh, then I was straddling him without even thinking, my body moving like it knew what it wanted before my brain could catch up.
His hands roamed my back, my hips, gripping tight, pulling me flush against him. His cock was hard beneath the blanket, pressing into me through the thin barrier of our clothes. I rocked against it, unable to stop myself, a groan slipping from my lips.
Greg’s mouth broke from mine just long enough to mutter, low and rough, “Fuck.., Alex…” before his lips crashed back onto mine, deeper, hungrier.
I was grinding on him now, shameless, my cock straining in my shorts, the friction making my head spin. His hands gripped my ass through the fabric, squeezing hard, making me moan into his mouth.
When his lips finally left mine, they trailed along my jaw, down my neck, sucking lightly, leaving heat in their wake. I tilted my head back, gasping, my fingers tangling in his hair.
“Greg…” I whispered, desperate.
He leaned back against the headboard, chest heaving, his eyes dark as they raked over me. His cock throbbed beneath the blanket, the outline impossible to ignore. He smirked, but there was tension behind it, a restraint.
“You’re needy as fuck Alex,” he said, voice low, almost amused.
My face flushed, but I didn’t deny it. Couldn’t.
He reached under the blanket, tugged it down, and there it was..his cock straining against his shorts, thick and hard, the head wet with precum, the outline pressing against the fabric. My eyes locked on it, my lips parting.
Greg chuckled softly. “Yeah, thought so. You can’t stop staring, can you?”
I shook my head, breath shaky.
“All yours,” he said, tugging me closer.
Our mouths crashed together again, wet and hungry, and as we kissed, his hand slid down between us, palming me through my shorts. I groaned, bucking into his grip, my cock aching, desperate.
I reached for him too, hand trembling as I grabbed the thick length straining in his shorts. Even through the fabric it felt hot, heavy. I squeezed, and he groaned into my mouth, hips jerking.
We fumbled then, frantic, tugging at each other’s waistbands until our cocks were free, hard and throbbing against each other, sliding slick with precum.
“Fuck…” Greg groaned, his forehead resting against mine as we stroked each other, hands moving fast, wet sounds filling the room.
I ground against him, cock to cock, the friction making me dizzy. His grip was firm, practiced, and every stroke pulled a cry from my lips. My hand worked him just as desperately, marveling at how big he was, how hot, how the veins bulged under my palm.
“Look at you,” he muttered, voice rough, eyes locked on mine. “Grinding on me like you can’t get enough. You love this, don’t you?”
“Yes I do, Mr. Lawson,” I gasped, my voice breaking, my hips moving helplessly against his.
He chuckled, low and dark, and pressed his lips to mine again, swallowing my moans as we worked each other faster, harder. The bed creaked beneath us, the air hot with sweat and the smell of sex.
I was so close, my body trembling, my cock leaking between us.
Greg pulled back just slightly, eyes on mine, and muttered, almost to himself, “Fuck… I actually like this more than I should.”
The words sent a shock through me, hotter than anything else, and I knew we were standing on a cliff’s edge, ready to fall again.
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