He blinked. I saw a flash of something behind all that glorious brown. Uncertainty? Fear? Or was I simply projecting? “I can drive without the shorts on, Paul.”
I let go of his hand. I let go of his d**k. I untangled myself and hopped up. “Done. Let’s go.” I reached down and pulled him up. He was my height. We were eye to eye. Only, my eyes were staring down. I reached below with my index finger, pulled on the elastic, and peeked inside. The groan repeated. The good kind again. “I’m surprised you fell like you did, Omar. Seems like you have a built-in kickstand.”
He kissed me again. And again. And again. Because good things travel in threes. Or twos. Namely him and me. Which is what we were doing not fifteen minutes later. In a model of car I’d never heard of, with a driver wearing no sh
