I walked out of the shower with a towel loosely wrapped around my hips. Drops of water were running down my chest, my hair still wet. Max was sitting in the living room, scrolling through something on his phone, completely relaxed, a beer next to him on the table. The perfect moment to throw in another provocation.
“Max,” I said in a tone as casual as if I were asking about the weather. “Will you shave my butt? I can't reach it myself.”
His head shot up from his phone like a spring. At first, he looked at me in silence, as if he had to make sure he had heard correctly. Then he burst out laughing, shaking his head. “Dude, are you out of your fucking mind?!” he snorted.
I didn’t flinch. I leaned against the doorframe and shrugged. “What? You scared? It’s just an ass. And no one’s gonna see you anyway.” I deliberately tugged the towel a little higher, as if it were about to slip off.
“You’re fucked up,” he repeated, but this time not as confidently. I saw the way he glanced to the side, the way he let out a sigh of resignation.
“Can’t handle it?” I added provocatively, raising an eyebrow.
He sighed heavily, like someone fighting with himself. Finally, he said, “Okay, give me that trimmer.”
And that's when I noticed something that told me more than words ever could. He spoke reluctantly, but his eyes flashed differently. He bit his lip as he reached for his beer, as if to hide his embarrassment. His agreement seemed forced, but I already knew: he wasn't so reluctant after all.
“Perfect,” I thought, feeling my plan move to the next level.
I lay down on my stomach and let the towel slide to the floor. Without a hint of shame, I pushed my ass up, giving him full access. I heard Max swallow hard before turning on the trimmer. Its low hum filled the room, and a moment later I felt the cool touch of the blade gliding over my skin.
For the first few seconds, there was silence. He was breathing heavily, focused, as if he were actually doing something important. But I knew he wouldn't last long.
“You've got a nice ass...” he blurted out suddenly, in a low voice, as if talking to himself. “Seriously, so muscular, perfect.”
A smile came to my lips. I was about to say something, but he seemed startled by his own words and quickly added, “I need to squeeze, just to hold the skin.”
And he did. His hand clenched my buttock. Firmly, confidently, too long for a simple “hold.” Then he did it again, and again, each time pretending it was part of the trim, but I could feel he was starting to take pleasure in it.
My head was boiling over. “My plan is working. He’s getting pulled in deeper. Just yesterday he pretended it meant nothing, and now he’s got my ass in his hands and won’t let go.”
He moved the trimmer slower than necessary, his fingers gliding over my skin more often than the blade did. Every touch electrified me more and more. I clenched my fingers around the pillow just to keep from letting out a moan.
“Okay, that's enough,” I muttered, pretending to be indifferent, even though my heart was pounding like crazy. “Looks like you're done.”
I was about to get up when his hand stopped me. “Wait,” Max said. “Your skin will be irritated. You need lotion.”
I raised my eyebrows and turned my head slightly. “That wasn't part of the plan,” I thought, but I didn't protest. I lay there, waiting to see what he would come up with.
I heard him rummaging through the bathroom shelf, moving bottles around. “Don't you have any lotion?” he asked after a moment.
“I forgot to buy some,” I replied. “Let's just forget about it, it's no big deal.”
“Wait, wait...” he interrupted. “You have some gel here.”
“It's lube,” I said dryly, wanting to throw him off the scent.
There was silence, but only for a moment. “It's better than nothing,” he muttered. And before I could say anything, I heard the distinctive click of the tube.
“What are you...” I started, but stopped when I felt the cool, slippery gel being spread on my buttocks.
After the trimmer I never had any irritation anyway, so I knew it wasn’t about grooming, it was just an excuse to touch me.
I opened my eyes wider. Max's warm fingers rubbed the lube in slowly, thoroughly, as if he wanted to make sure that not a single inch of skin was missed. I was in shock, I felt like I had suddenly lost control.
“I was supposed to be the one provoking him,” pounded in my head. “And now he’s the one diving deeper and deeper into my game.”
My stomach muscles were tense, my cock was digging into the mattress, pulsing harder with every second. I was on the edge, and I knew Max knew it.
Max's fingers moved lower and lower. First, he rubbed the gel widely over my buttocks, then narrowed his movements, focusing closer to the center. I felt his fingertip slide back and forth along the crack, bolder and bolder, slower and slower. I held my breath so as not to betray how much it was turning me on.
Suddenly, I felt his finger stop right on my hole. A short press, as if he was testing the ground. And then, gently, uncertainly, but clearly, he slid the tip inside. My body trembled.
“Fuck...” slipped out of my mind, though I didn't say anything out loud.
And then I heard his half-whisper. Almost imperceptible, but clear enough to leave no doubt. “Oh yes... good.”
I turned my head sharply. “What did you say?” I asked, pretending I wasn't sure, even though I knew perfectly well.
Max straightened up, as if caught red-handed. “Nothing, nothing... just to myself,” he replied quickly, pulling his hand back slightly.
But I already knew everything. My cock was throbbing, hard as a rock, pressed against the mattress. One glance at Max was enough to see the same thing in him, the bulge in his pants leaving no doubt.
Max suddenly jumped up and rushed to the bathroom, the door slamming shut behind him. I was left with a smile on my face, because I knew exactly what he’d gone in there to do. Every move he made only confirmed it: he was starting to crack.
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