He muttered something wholly unintelligible and pulled off my shoes. Did Adam have some kind of a foot fetish? Ah, no-he'd just wanted to get my jeans and underwear off. Very sensible, I thought fuzzily as he swung a leg over my now naked thighs to straddle me, kneeling.
Adam unbuttoned my shirt with infinite care. I struggled up to a sitting position so I could get it off, but he pushed me down again. "Leave it on," he said gruffly.
Okay, so he had a fetish for Sherlock shirts. I could understand that. I lay back down again, wondering vaguely how he'd look in a stripy sweater. Scruffy, I decided, but also cuddly. Matt, on the other hand, would look absolutely adorable … And oh, God, Adam's teeth were biting at my nipple. My hands didn't seem to belong to me any more-they were roaming independently over Adam's shoulders, Adam's hair, and any other bits of Adam they could reach. My cock, meanwhile, was rutting helplessly into Adam's stomach.
It was all so intense it was vaguely terrifying.
"Y' like that?" Adam asked, pulling off my swollen nipple and climbing off to one side of me. "Roll over."
I stared at him for a moment, then did as I was asked. Adam grabbed my hips and pulled at them, and I ended up on all fours. "Put y'r head on the cushion."
It felt vaguely like I was doing some kind of X-rated yoga, all these different positions, but in this matter, at least, I trusted Adam. Even though I felt a bit ridiculous with my arse in the air like that. Were any grey hairs showing? I hoped not.
"Y'r gonna love this," Adam said. And oh, God, I could feel his hot breath on my arse. He grabbed a buttock in each large hand, pulled them apart, and bloody hell, his tongue was running up and down my crack. I made a sound I would have sworn up until then was humanly impossible, a cross between a wolf howling and fingernails on a blackboard. His teeth nipped at my arse cheeks, and then that serpentine tongue of his stabbed at my entrance, prodding and teasing. My legs were trembling so much I thought any moment now I'd collapse into a twitching heap.
The tongue action stopped. "Wanna fuck you. That all right?"
There was a reason we shouldn't do this. I was almost positive there was. But for the life of me, I couldn't, right now, recall what it was. "All right," I agreed dreamily. I heard ripping sounds behind me; the snap of a condom; then felt the cool drizzle of something oily down my crack.
Adam's blunt cockhead pressed against my arsehole, and instinctively I pushed back, trying to draw him inside me. For a moment, I thought I was succeeding-then he gave a strangled cry and the pressure was gone in a waft of cold air on my arse. I twisted to look over my shoulder. "Adam? Are you-oh, bloody hell. Bad cat! Bad cat!"
Adam's face was twisted in pain and consternation, and there was a cat hanging off his back. By its claws. Thin trickles of blood had already formed beneath them. I scrambled over, grabbed Wolverine around his hefty, furry middle and hoiked him away. Adam bellowed as the claws tore through his skin one last time.
"Adam? Adam! Are you okay? God, I can't believe he did that! Bad cat!" I scolded my furry burden before dumping him on the floor none too gently. Adam was moaning softly, blood now dripping onto the carpet from his lacerated back. "God, let's get these cleaned up. Are you going to need a tetanus jab?"
His eyes still screwed up, Adam shook his head and grunted something indecipherable. I took it to mean he'd had one recently. I ran into the kitchen, my now thoroughly limp cock dangling sadly between my legs, and ransacked the cupboards for the first aid kit I was sure I'd seen there a few days ago. "Where the bloody hell-got you!"
Several handfuls of antiseptic wipes later, it was quite clear the mood had irredeemably altered. Wolverine was curled up on the computer keyboard looking smug, and Adam kept casting him anxious glances. He'd also put his trousers back on. I could hardly blame him-I wouldn't want my delicate bits dangling in front of a cat with maiming on his mind either.
To tell the truth, I wasn't sure if I was relieved or sorry. Both, really. Although part of me was glad I hadn't popped my gay cherry with a bloke I knew I didn't love, another part of me was banging the walls and shouting in frustration, We were so bloody close!
Or had I popped my cherry? I wasn't sure how it worked for gay sex. Okay, so there hadn't been any penetration-not by Adam's cock, anyway-but did that really work as a definition of actual sex? Because if so, did that mean lesbians were lifelong virgins? I didn't actually know any lesbians, but I was fairly sure they'd be none too happy at the idea of their sexually active status being dependent on a bloke's bits.
"I'm so sorry about that," I told Adam for the umpteenth time as I pulled on my own trousers. "I don't know what would make him attack you like that-unless maybe he thought you were some kind of rival encroaching on his territory?"