It's not even that surprising, given Carmen's ability to get himself worked up over nothing. Richie blinks slowly at him, trying to summon his brain cells back from the soup of oxytocin and other feelgood chemicals that has replaced his higher functioning.
Richie doesn't have this problem -- though he's also ridiculously turned on -- because he's forty five and rounding the curve on having to use those little blue pills, so he feels kind of old, but not really in a bad way. It's still a compliment to get his cousin so close to nutting just from making out. That's pretty great.
He rolls over a bit to look around the bedroom and spots the new pump bottle of lube, unwrapped from its plastic, sitting helpfully within reach on top of a stack of cookbooks that's serving as a nightstand. Without letting go of Carmy, he reaches out an arm to snag it and brings it onto the bed. Outside, the rain rattles against the window; the light is dim and cool. Thunder coughs overhead.
"Roll over, jerkwad. Put your back against me." Nudging Carmy into place as the little spoon, Richie dispenses himself some of the thick lube. It smells nice and feels silky, not like the crappy stuff he's used before with girls. He hitches himself up along Carmy's back, pushing his free arm underneath him so he can sling it on a diagonal down his chest, like a seatbelt. Snugging his own hard dick into the curve of Carmy's ass, where he plans to spend the rest of the evening.
He reaches around and slicks his lubed up hand over Carmy's achingly hard cock, a long slow series of squeezes like he's milking him, rolling his palm over the head like he's seen women do in porn.
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"What?" Understanding slowly dawns. "Oh, yeah, okay."
Richie doesn't have this problem -- though he's also ridiculously turned on -- because he's forty five and rounding the curve on having to use those little blue pills, so he feels kind of old, but not really in a bad way. It's still a compliment to get his cousin so close to nutting just from making out. That's pretty great.
He rolls over a bit to look around the bedroom and spots the new pump bottle of lube, unwrapped from its plastic, sitting helpfully within reach on top of a stack of cookbooks that's serving as a nightstand. Without letting go of Carmy, he reaches out an arm to snag it and brings it onto the bed. Outside, the rain rattles against the window; the light is dim and cool. Thunder coughs overhead.
"Roll over, jerkwad. Put your back against me." Nudging Carmy into place as the little spoon, Richie dispenses himself some of the thick lube. It smells nice and feels silky, not like the crappy stuff he's used before with girls. He hitches himself up along Carmy's back, pushing his free arm underneath him so he can sling it on a diagonal down his chest, like a seatbelt. Snugging his own hard dick into the curve of Carmy's ass, where he plans to spend the rest of the evening.
He reaches around and slicks his lubed up hand over Carmy's achingly hard cock, a long slow series of squeezes like he's milking him, rolling his palm over the head like he's seen women do in porn.
"How's that? That okay?"