He presses his lips to mine again, moving his hand up my back to my neck, and lifts his other hand to occupy the spot on my back. “Ness,” he sighs against my lips, then shifts to pepper kisses on my neck. Finally, he pulls back. “My room?”
My heart beats faster in anticipation of another of my firsts going to him. “Okay,” I whisper.
The alcohol seems to be kicking in, and Theo leans heavily on me, using me as a support as well as a guide. “Wanted you f-for ages, Ness,” he slurs heavily, as I drag him into the elevator. The party is in full force in the living room, and I know we won’t be missed.
This is not a conversation I want to have while half-carrying him to his room. “Mmhmm,” I vocalise in response.
Finally, I manage to pull him into his bedroom, and lock the door behind us. Suddenly, I’m pressed up against the wall. “Love you, N-Ness,” Theo mumbles, running his lips over every piece of exposed skin on my upper body.
Gently, I extricate myself from his grip and lead him to the bed. “C’mon, let’s get you in bed, ‘kay?”
He sits heavily on the edge of the bed, gripping my waist and letting the cane thump to the floor. I unbutton his shirt wordlessly. I’ve done this task nearly every day for the past twelve years, as well as done up his shirt in the mornings, and I’ve witnessed the metamorphosis from a pale, skinny chest to the tanned, well-defined masculinity he has now. Somehow, this time feels different. Much, much more intimate. I tug the sleeves off his arms, and as he pulls off his white undershirt, I kneel to undo his shoelaces. Sliding his custom loafers off, I glance up at Theo. His eyes are hooded, and he leans back on his arms to watch me. “W-Want you.” His nearly incoherent statement goes directly to my pussy, and I suck in a gasp, biting my lip.
He moves back carefully, and sits against the headboard. I lift his legs onto the bed and slip a pillow under his bent knees to support his contracted legs. Straddling him, I place my hands on his chest. Our friendship has always been intimate, but now we’re crossing the line. This is it. No turning back to best-friend status now. Nervously, I shift off of him and undo his fly, then slide his pants and boxers off, revealing his AFO braces.
I unzip my dress on my own, knowing that it could take hours for him to get a good grip on the little zip, in the state that he’s in. Slowly, I let it slide down my body, revealing my lacy white bra and underwear. He moans, palming himself as he watches me strip. Flushing, I shimmy out of my simple lingerie in similar fashion, then sit on the edge of the bed, next to his legs. Slowly, reverently, I unstrap the orthosis on his right leg, peeling the long sock off. Underneath, his thigh tapers off into calf that somewhat lacks muscle tone. The same goes for his left leg, as I remove its plastic and steel support.
“C’mere.” I obey the command, and straddle his hips again. Lowering my lips to his, I slip my tongue into his mouth, twisting one hand into the soft curls at the nape of his neck. One hand latches onto his nipples, teasing them into rock-solid mounds of flesh, caressing and nipping until his moans are accompanied by heavy panting. His hands, marked with rough calluses from his hobby of dragon-boating, glide across my skin, tracing patterns on my back and hips. His fingers jerk and twitch, digging gently into my flesh in an unpredictable, erratic rhythm, strangely erotic.
I pull away. “I want a bath."