We were sitting on either side of his couch watching Yellowstone while hella stoned. At some point I stretched my body like a golden cat in the afternoon sun and my cold soles touched his thigh.

“Oh my god,” he said in horror, “let me warm you up!”

He took one cold foot and pressed it between his palms. The other foot he held between his thighs. His erection was sandwiched in there as well.

He started massaging my feet and I found myself surrendering to his touch.

Several sighs of pleasure later, he asked, “Do you wanna take this upstairs?”

“It depends,” I said playfully, “what’s gonna happen if I follow you up there?”

That night I learned he’s bad at dirty talk. But maybe a week or so later he told me that he’d like to try, but I’d have to take the lead.

“Okay,” I said with a crooked smile.

The next time I saw him was lesson 101.

We smoked and enjoyed each other’s company downstairs. Then when he reached under the blanket to start massaging my feet I knew it was time.

He tilted his head in the direction of his room and I nodded, grabbing my purse and following him.

He opened the door to let me in and I turned on a light for us. Then laid my purse on the bed and turned back to face him. He was getting shy, I could tell. I could see his little mind spinning, wondering what I’d do next.

“You don’t really have to have anything planned. Just say what’s on your mind. Say what you’re about to do before you do it. Say how it feels or what you want more of. Say how long you’ve waited or how excited you are.”

“I wanna kiss you,” he said, and I could taste his gaze on my lips.

“I wanna watch you touch yourself,” I eyed him mischievously.

He didn’t hesitate. His hand dipped into his basketball shorts and came back out with his beautiful cock.

“Is this what you want?” He asked, his breath catching in his throat.

“That’s exactly what I want.”

I watched him in trance, my eyes fixated on the way his fist moved up and down the length of his lust, the goosebumps on his skin, the way he shivered and seemed so lost in sensation.

I couldn’t get enough. I sat on his bed, spread my legs, and touched myself through my little black shorts and panties.

“Tell me what you wanna do to me.”

“I want” he exhaled sharply. “I want my hands where your hands are.”

“Be more specific.”

Breathlessly, he said, “I wanna play with your…”

“My what, baby?”

He walked closer to the bed, hovering over me. I lifted my leg, my cold foot making contact with his warm chest, and stopped him in his tracks.

He grabbed on to the leg, running one hand over it as the other hand worked his cock.

“What would you do if I hadn’t stopped you just now?”

“I would kiss you, all over, I’d kiss you—

Your lips, your neck, your shoulders. I’d bury my tongue between your thighs until you begged me to stop.”

“Good boy,” I said, “come show me.”