Baby steps ∽『boy ✮ boy -EDITED

Eighteenth 👣-edited

      The rest of the night passed peacefully. Ryder and I ate sandwiches and played video games and afterwards we started watching TV series. My dad came in sometimes during the night and told us that the guest room was ready for Ryder, but we both fell asleep during our movie party so my bed was still the place where we both woke up in the morning. It was quite a surprise I could sleep at all due to being restless about the discussion I overheard between Ryder and Ivy. I didn't want the possibility that Ryder might have a girlfriend to irk me so much because it meant I was jealous and still liked Ryder, but I couldn't help myself. Fortunately the next morning my heart felt less heavy and once I set my eyes on a peacefully sleeping Ryder I decided only staying by his side as his friend was good enough for me. It wasn't like I had to see him being lovey dovey with his girlfriend every moment of the day and night.

This was what I said, but a few days after we returned from Kathy I felt like I would go insane. First of all, Ryder was texting Ivy at least three times a day. He didn't spend as much time in front of his phone as before but he still had to text or call her. Secondly, papa and I were not on talking terms. He tried to rise the white flag a few times, but I wouldn't shut my cernyx (war trumpet) down yet. Lastly, my nights were hunted by images of Greg. Sometimes he would appear alone, other times he would be accompanied by Simon and rarely young Ryder would appear in my nightmares too.

Not everything was bad though. I started spending more time with Ryder, playing board or video games, helping him cook and even tutoring him. I actually loved our tutoring lessons because what was yummier than having a boy sprawled on your bed with a pen hanging between his plump lips and moaning your name?... like right now:

"Mmm, Carter... it hurts... I don't wanna do this anymore... Please, you're going to hurt me if you're going any deeper...Carter...Take it out!"

"Ryder..." I slid my wet finger deeper in the boy's ear, "I will bully the shit out of you if you keep being distracted. I know my face is stunning, but it won't get you a scholarship, these worksheets will, so stop staring at me and do your work."

"I wasn't staring at you, dumbo!" The boy grumbled, pulling my finger away before proceeding to rub his ear and those gorgeous, muscular hips I kept on pinching for the last two hours since we started our tutoring class. He sat up and started moving his books around, spreading his papers on a pillow and placing his pen behind his ear. Now he was lying on his stomach, his legs being lifted up in the air and his upper body supported on his elbows. His hair was messy from all of the ruffling I've practiced on it while his shirt was slightly lifted above his waist, revealing a small part of his chocolate pigmented skin.

"How do you say tough in French?"

I looked up at Ryder, realizing he was staring at me curiously. I redirected my attention back on the worksheets.

"The French word for tough is "dur"."

"How about fierce?"

"Well, for fierce is "féroce". Même si je pense que "mignon" te va mieux (Even if I think "cute" suits you better)."

Ryder stared at me with wide eyes, his lips slightly parted in amazement.

"I don't know what you just said, but it sounded hot."

"Je sais! (I know)"

Turning his attention back to his papers, Ryder tangled his legs together and began moving them up and down in the air. I stared at them for a while before my gaze lifted upwards...to his ass.

To be honest, Ryder had one hella cute bubble butt. It looked squishy and soft and bouncy, and all I wanted to do at the moment was to bend over, knead it, burry my face and hide myself from the world and my problems in it. I was a kinky mother trucker, I know.