mutual masturbation with travis at a sleepover WHATTTTT who said that
WHAAAAAT i mean……
cuddling on your bed and chatting casually. he vents about his dad pissing him off and you talk about who is fighting with who on the soccer team.
laying your head in his lap and letting travis play with your hair, maybe even pressing a playful kiss to his jean-clad thigh when he says something particularly sweet. pretending not to notice the obvious tent under your head.
the cassette playing a faint song in the background as you adjust, laying next to each other in the bed. you face one another, still fully clothed, content to talk the night away. the longer you ramble the more he seems to fidget, not as subtle as he thinks.
so you give in and poke his leg with your foot. he thinks it’s innocent at first before it rides higher, prodding at his jeans. travis goes red and tries to mutter some cute little apology.
you’ve both decided to save your first time for later, for something special. so travis says not to worry about it, that it’s just his stupid body.
but he can still get off without having sex, right? it would be cruel to leave the poor boy like this all night.
and with some encouraging words travis will bashfully give in, pulling his cock free from his jeans. it’s already leaking slightly just from the teasing, giving a gentle throb in the exposed air.
you watch dutifully as he strokes himself, slow and languid. travis doesn’t want to embarrass himself and finish too quickly, especially with the way you seem so focused, eyes lidded as you commit the moment to memory: filing away the grip of his hand, the bulge of his veins, the exact pace he likes.
“are you..” travis stammers, unsure how to say this without being crude. “did you want to..?”
and you easily catch on, realising travis wants to see you touch yourself. it’s an easy compliance to make, shoving your hand into your pyjama pants. his eyes are glued to every reaction, watching intently at the faces you make as you lay side by side getting off.
