Sex in C Major
Chapter 44

"Let's see how many thrusts it takes before those clamps come off."

Stefan closed his eyes-and surrendered. 16

When Stefan woke, he was warm.

His skin felt scrubbed smooth and clean. There was watery sunlight trickling through a crack in the curtains and leaking over the bed in thin streaks. A heat at his back, a pair of knees tucked up behind his own and the soft press of a half-hard cock against his arse, spoke of where he was and why.

And the body at his back was awake.

There was a hand on his breast. And the fingers were tugging at his nipple, rolling it and massaging the slowly hardening nub.

Stefan tensed.

His breast felt full and heavy in the callused palm that held it. The movement of the nipple, being jerked almost like coaxing a cock to hardness, was making the entire mass rock softly. It rolled and moved, like a fluid tumour on the front of his body, and the pleasurable sensation was washed away by the sudden and intense shame.

He couldn't like that. He couldn't.

And yet-oh, it felt so nice, too. Little bursts of pleasure were sinking into Stefan's skin and slowly rousing his dick from its sleep. He could feel arousal beginning to build, hot and wet, as a nail began to lightly pinch at the hard tit.

But-

God, no, no-no-no, he couldn't-

The wave of self-loathing rose up in the back of his throat like bile. And he must have pushed or made a noise, for the hand moved away, smoothing down his naked stomach, and then Daz was pushing up and leaning over him with a frown.

"What's the matter?"

"II"

The hand on his stomach was soothing. But he was lying crumpled and naked under Daz's arm, his breasts just just flopping around like he was a woman, betraying him, and he couldn't like that, not if he wanted to be a man, not if he wanted rid of them someday.

"I don't like my breasts being touched," he whispered in a half-truthful, half-false rush.

Daz blinked.

Then frowned.

"Stefan."

It was a chiding tone.

"I'm sorry. I just "

"What are you sorry for?"

"I know you like them..."

"Then, wrong sorry. You should be sorry because you didn't tell me. I thought you liked it. You seemed to like it in the shower the other day. And last night."

"I" He had. He did. But-"No."

"Then I'm sorry, and I won't do it again," Daz said evenly-then pinched at Stefan's hip. "But I'm not a mind-reader. You have to tell me if you don't like something."

Stefan felt a flush creeping up his neck. "It's stupid."

"Why?"

Stefan huffed. "Everyone likes that. You like them."

"Doesn't matter if I like them if you don't."

"I c

I guess..."

"As for stupid, I've heard weirder than not liking your nipples being played with."

Daz crashed back to the mattress, apparently uninterested in a punishment. Hesitantly, Stefan turned over to face him, tugging the sheets up to cover his breasts.

"Like what?" he asked.

Daz smirked, and put a finger over Stefan's mouth in a 'ssh' gesture.

"Promise not to tell?"

Stefan nodded.

"Really promise? He'll throw a paddy if he replaces out I told you."

"Promise."

"Yannis hates getting blown."

"Really?"

"Yup."

"As in-hates, hates?"

"Yep."

"Because he's-you know? Not into sex?"

"Don't think so," Daz said, shrugging. "He's not anti sex, you know, he will let me sometimes. He's just not interested. But I tried to blow him once and wow, you'd have thought I'd tried to fuck him with a knife. Fastest 'go fuck yourself' response ever."

"He really doesn't like it?"

"Hates it. I didn't even get my lips on it before he clocked me and told me to go fuck my hand if I wanted to get some."

"But everybody likes-oh," Stefan said, and frowned when Daz smirked. "That was low."

"But true."

"It is true, then?"

"Oh yeah. He does hate it. Just seemed pretty apt for your not-liking-nipples crisis."

Stefan chewed on his lip, toying with the sheets. Daz didn't seem to be in a masterful mood, and Stefan suddenly wanted to know the other side of him. Not Sir, but...Daz.

"Is there anything weird about what you don't like?"

"Mm, not really," Daz said thoughtfully. "I mean, there's stuff I'm not really into, you know, but nothing that would be considered crazy not to like, I suppose. Well, maybe kissing. I don't not like it, I just don't really get it." "Don't you kiss Yannis much?"

"Nah, mutual sense of who cares," Daz said, and stretched.

Stefan's gaze dropped, against his will, to the flex of chest muscles.