9/26/98
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"Are you sure...? I mean... I'm not going to hurt you, am I?"

"What are you, some kind of wuss? C'mon, man! Do it."

"All right... I just... I haven't -done- this, very much, before. It's not like I know what I'm doing- Ow. That hurt!" He sat up, rubbing at the back of his leg, bewilderment and pain mingling on his face.

"Sorry... I didn't mean to. I just wanted you to hurry -up-!" Contrite, fingers trailing over the spot where moments before they'd landed a little slap. "Could you do it -now-, please...?" Whining, needy, bit demanding... Fingers slide along the strong thigh, trailing off the knee and wandering back to the owner of the hand's own stomach.

"Oh... Well..." A small sigh, head bending to cover the last bits of his hesitation, fingers moving to tickle and tease and to be followed by his mouth...

He wasn't going to. He could do this, he could. There wasn't a chance that he would- Actually, he rather thought he was... Yes. He gags, coughs, and shoves himself into an upright position, all the while feeling ashamed and foolish, the heat of a blush spreading warmly up his neck. "Sorry, sorry..."

"You really -haven't- done this before, have you?" The wry voice does hold a bit of sympathy among the annoyance.

"No. I'm... I don't think I can...try again." He refuses to meet the older man's eyes, suddenly wishing with all his might that he was anywhere else, doing almost anything else.