Taste of Your Touch
Taylor
When I see Zac advancing on me, my initial reaction is to brace myself for impact, but I know this time he isn’t going to punch me. Still, it’s a shock to feel his lips against mine, and even more of a shock that they feel exactly like I remember. I’ve repeated the events of that night so many times in my mind until they almost didn’t seem real anymore, but the second I feel that strange mixture of soft and rough touching my lips, it all comes flooding back like never before.
The second that the shock wears off and I remember to move, Zac pulls back and stares at me, eyes wide and full of a mixture of confusion and surprise. He almost seems afraid, or… nervous, I suppose. Hesitantly, he asks, “Is… is this okay?”
“Yeah,” I reply softly, then clear my throat and repeat the word more confidently. “Yeah, it’s… more than okay. I don’t really have a word for what it is, but it is so much more than okay.”
He gives me a smile that makes me feel weak in the knees. It doesn’t spread all the way across his face, but it’s genuine. Without another word, he leans in and presses his lips to mine again. Instinctively, without thinking about what I’m doing, I part my lips for him, and that’s it. His hesitance is gone, and he’s kissing me with fervor, exploring my mouth as if he’d never been there before.
He pulls me closer, a hand finding its way into my hair. His hand full of my hair, not quite pulling but still gripping it firmly, he lets out an oddly joyful moan. I can’t deny that I feel the same way, even though I can’t remember ever enjoying having my hair played with as much as I do right now.
Pulling back from the kiss, but still holding tightly onto my hair, he says, “I always liked your hair longer.”
“Yeah? You did?” I ask, my cheeks heating up a little. It’s strange to suddenly feel self conscious about my looks, even when he’s complimenting me, because I know I don’t look as good right now as I once did. I’ve always taken pride in my appearance, and felt good about it. I could say that I don’t know when or how that changed, but it would be a lie.
“Yeah,” Zac replies, nodding. He looks down for a moment, still stroking my hair. “I wanted to punch those label guys who told you to cut it.”
I nudge his chin up, forcing him to meet my eyes. “And I wanted to be brave enough to leave my hair the way it was and tell them to get bent like somebody I know did.”
Zac
I chuckle as I remember the look on the record exec’s face, wide-eyed at the nerve of a fifteen year old kid telling him where to stick his ‘focus group’. It would’ve been worth it just for that, but the shocked grin on Tay’s face made it that much better. It wasn’t often he looked at me like that, like I was worth something, but I lived for the times he did. It was the same way when he came to me at night; as frustrated as it always left me, during those brief moments I felt like I really meant something to him. Like he wanted me just as badly as I wanted him.
Looking at him now, trying to accept that he really had, and still does, I feel the thrill I used to. His blue eyes are shining with a mischievous gleam, but for once there’s no edge to it; before, when he’d look at me, it was like a cat eyeing a mouse caught in a trap. But now, he looks at me like an equal, like someone he needs, and not something to play with. It hits me like an emotional wave, but the pull is deeper, more base and primal. The thought that he needs me, that his body craves mine, feeds the fire I’ve tried to suppress for so long.
I’ve waited long enough, and so has he. Without another word I pull his face closer to mine, kissing him deeply. I bury my fingers deeper in his hair, my other arm wrapping tightly around his waist. I don’t want to be too rough, especially after what I put him through, so I’m trying to hold back. But the heat is taking over, clouding my mind, and it’s all I can do to stay in control. I lean Taylor back, moving his hair aside to kiss his neck. His skin is soft, just as I remember, and I take my time exploring with teeth and tongue.
I look up at Tay, hoping I’m not going too far or too fast, but his grin tells me I’m doing fine. I get back to it, letting my hands slide down the sides of his chest, fingers sneaking under his shirt. His body is cool to the touch, as usual for him, and it feels almost too good, like ice on a sunburn. I need to taste him there too, and so a second later I’m dropping to my knees. A quick glance up gives me all the reassurance I need, and I push the fabric of his shirt out of the way. At first I lean my cheek against his silky skin, but I need more than that.
Staring up at him, I dart my tongue out at the thin line of hair peeking out from the waist of his… my jeans. The thought of him in my pants makes me smirk, but it also drives my mind to dirty places. My eyes follow the path his body has laid out for me, taking in every curve, every rise and fall. I run my hands up and down his thighs, feeling them tense beneath my touch. My fingers make their way to the button, slowly undoing it and the zipper that follows. I catch his eyes again and I see the same hunger I know is reflected in my own.
Taylor
I can do nothing more than stare down at Zac in awe. This is not the same boy who used me three years ago. This Zac is hesitant, seeking my approval as he wraps his hand loosely around my rapidly hardening dick. I smile at him and run my fingers through his hair, hoping that will assure him he’s doing fine. I’m already speechless, so I have no words of encouragement for him.
That little action seems to be enough. Zac’s eyelashes flutter as he leans down and places the softest kiss on the head of my dick. Even that minuscule, nearly imperceptible touch is enough to make me moan. Zac stares up at me as he opens his mouth and slides it down my length, inch after inch disappearing into the incredible heat of his mouth. He’s still a little hesitant, and I have to wonder how many times he’s done this–if he’s done this to anyone else.
A very depraved part of me hopes that he hasn’t. I like being the only person he has been with like this, even if I can’t say the same about him. I like the idea that there’s no one else he wants quite this much. I hope he knows I feel the same.
As he works his mouth up and down on my dick, he seems to gain confidence. His left hand finds my balls, cupping them gently. He couldn’t possibly know how much I love that. Then again, perhaps he does. I’ve always had a theory that sexual chemistry isn’t something that can be learned. You either have it or you don’t, and if you don’t, the relationship is probably doomed. I wish I had learned that years ago. It might have stopped me from wondering why no one was ever enough for me and I couldn’t stop kissing my brother… my gorgeous brother, who’s tongue is now making its way to my balls.
“Oh god…” I moan as Zac plants little kisses and tentative licks over one of the most sensitive parts of my body.
I watch him intently, silently praying his tongue will go lower. He must hear my prayers, because he shifts positions some and finally lets his tongue land on the part of me no other man–or woman–has touched for three years. His dark eyes glance up at me for approval, and I give it in the form of an eager nod. The tip of his tongue slips inside me, and my head falls back against the couch. It’s unbelievable how even the slightest touch from Zac can completely undo me. I rake my hand through his hair again, hoping to encourage him to go even further.
He does. His tongue slides in and out of me, mimicking what I wish his dick was doing. A finger slips in to join it, meeting surprisingly little resistance from my body. After a moment, he removes his tongue entirely, but I don’t even mind anymore. A second finger makes me forget about his tongue entirely, filling me and stretching me–not too much, but just enough to burn. It’s a burn I used to relish, and one that I haven’t felt for so, so long. I had almost forgotten how much I needed this… how much I needed him.
And I need more.