Three weeks into our relationship, Buddy and I were nearly inseparable. We hadn't spent a single night apart, and had taken to storing overnight things in our cars so we could keep it spontaneous. For the past week I'd been staying in his bedroom every night, as my shithole apartment building had developed a particularly bad pest problem, and between that and my barely-functioning refrigerator, obnoxious neighbours, and assorted other plagues, I was dreading going back there at all. This weekend they were spraying for bed bugs, so I couldn't go back if I wanted to.
Bernie had gotten accustomed to me hanging around, even if he still acted overprotective of the boy who was like a son to him. I could tell he was really starting to like me. If nothing else, I was putting plenty of smiles on Buddy's face, and that was worth a great deal to the gruff mechanic.
I woke up warm and happy in Buddy's bed. The little guy was curled up almost in a fetal position with his back against my front. I nuzzled his hair and breathed in the scent of him. He always smelled so clean.
"Richard," he mumbled, stirring. His voice was husky with sleep. "I was... d-dreaming of you."
"It came true." I wrapped an arm around his slender middle and pulled him closer to me. "I'm right here."
"Mm. I love you."
I grinned into his wild red hair. I would never get tired of hearing these words from him. "Love you too, button."
Button. As in cute-as-a, or possibly his irresistible button nose. Maybe it was a stupid nickname, one I might have facepalmed at if I hadn't been absurdly in love, but it seemed to work. It made him smile every time.
He wriggled his little butt, grinding it against my stiffened rod and making me gasp. We were both in our underwear and nothing else.
"He-hello, morning wood," he giggled.
"Tease," I quipped, playfully biting his neck and making him laugh harder. "Why don't we see what you've got going this fine morning?"
I slid one hand down his flat belly and beneath the waistband of his underpants. I found him nice and hard, and deliciously warm. His cock, small enough to fit within my fist but very stiff and excited, was a tactile delight. As I squeezed him, he whimpered in the familiar way I had come to adore. I enjoyed holding him like a joystick, with my thumb over the deep scarlet tip that strained out of its foreskin, and fondled him sleepily until I could feel the slick wetness of precum at the slit.
"Somebody likes it," I whispered, placing my lips right against the edge of his ear in the way I had learned made him tremble and break out in goosebumps.
"Ohhh..."
"Do you want me to keep going?"
Buddy's bum pressed back against my stiff bulge again, so firmly and deliberately that I groaned and gave a little thrust against him. I'd been cautious thus far of being too pushy—we hadn't yet gone beyond handjobs and blowjobs, and Buddy was a particularly sensitive, timorous little guy. I couldn't forget how Bernie had compared him to a squirrel, and just as if I were trying to feed a squirrel in the park, I knew that I had to be patient and let him come to me rather than risk scaring him off with big movements.
Still, Buddy also had a great big horny beast hiding somewhere inside him, and every time that beast showed itself a little was a delight to me.
"You know exactly what you're doing to me, you adorable monster," I snarled between kisses along his ear and neck that made him shiver. "Don't grind against me if you don't want to be humped."
I listened to his rapid breaths. I could practically feel him internally processing my playful warning. After a few moments, he reached one small hand back and gripped my thigh, and then jerked his little ass back hard against my stiff rod, drawing a deep grunt from me.
"Oh! You're pushing your luck, little man," I said in my best Soup Nazi accent. We'd watched the legendary episode of "Seinfeld" last night on Bernie's couch, and laughed our asses off.
Buddy laughed again at my impression, but proved to be undeterred. He started teasing me continuously with his cute behind, rolling his hips in saucy little strokes against my hard-on. He wanted it—he wanted me to hump him, and good.
"Oh... oh... you've been warned," I said huskily, and rolled him onto his front. I straddled his narrow hips and let my shaft settle against his crack. I watched his hands grab the pillow and bunch handfuls of it in his tense fists. He peeked back over his shoulder. His riotously freckled cheeks were especially ruddy.
"Is this okay?" I whispered, always careful with him, even in the heat of teasing play.
"Go!" he urged, wiggling his bottom.
I grinned widely. He was so cute and so sexy when he was desperately horny like this. I pressed firmly against his bum and started slowly rubbing up and down, pleasuring my cock exquisitely with his tempting cleft. For a few minutes the only sounds were our heavy breathing and the occasional subtle creak of his mattress springs.
"Uhhn... underwear... off," he moaned into his pillow.
"Are you serious?" I gasped. "Mine, yours?"
"Both!"
"Seriously?"
"Richard! Now!" he huffed.
I growled with pleasure. There was my beast. I rolled off of him long enough to shed my boxers and liberate him of his, and then I spread his round little cheeks wide and nestled my cock between them.
"Mmmm," we moaned in unison. He'd never let me do this before, and it had my heart thumping crazily.
"How's that feel?" I whispered, thrusting a little.
"Oh g-g-good!" he stammered.
