All American Boys

29. Gardens of Gomorrah

All American Boys

Chapter 29: Gardens of Gomorrah

Cyril slung me over his back, his strong arms supporting my thighs as he piggybacked me upstairs. He was a football player after all. I could smell his shampoo as his soft hair brushed against my face.

When we reached his bedroom, he gently placed me down on his fluffy bed.

"You want anything in particular?" my boyfriend asked, as he walked over to the records player placed on the sideboard.

I just craned my neck to look at his vinyl collection arranged neatly on the shelf beside it. It seemed extensive, but I wasn't going to go over there to check it out. Truth be told, I couldn't be bothered too much. But it was nice that he asked.

"I'm fine with whatever," I told him.

My boyfriend seemed to take his time picking out the music from the rows of records, but eventually he settled on one. Lou Reed. A safe choice I guess

I was about to take off my shirt, when he nearly sprinted to the other end of the room where the cabinets were.

"Wait!" he called out as he flung the door open, looking for something. "Not just yet."

He was fretting, and it was rather obvious. It was kinda cute, if I was being really honest. I couldn't blame him. After all, I was the one who had told him our first time had to be special, and for me to suddenly call in the middle of the night and now suddenly we were about to do it? If I were the poor boy I would be nervous too.

Taking out a few red candles he placed a couple of them by the bedside, while he scattered a few others across the room. Like a bee buzzing from flower to flower, he lit the candles up one by one and soon the entire room was filled by the faint scent of roses.

"So," he turned around, flashing me a smirk as he unbuttoned his shirt. "What did you have in mind?"

His voice was low and flirtatious, but I could tell that it was all a farce to hide how nervous he was. It was his first time with me after all. As well as his first time with a guy.

He slipped shirt off, revealing his toned torso and his well-trained chest. He had a small silver crucifix necklace, the cross resting over his heart. He never took it off.

"You know," I said, maintaining eye contact as he approached, getting nearer to me with every step. "I was thinking we could start with some kissing. . . some cuddling."

Cyril still maintained his aura of confidence as he neared me, but that pretence soon broke the moment our lips met. He had gently pushed me down against the bed and pulled my shirt off, before moving for my lips. As we kissed, I felt him being more unsure of himself, compared to our more passionate kisses earlier downstairs.

"Who am I kidding," he sighed after we finally let go. "I don't know what I'm doing."

"Why?" I asked, as the both of us sat back up. "I think you did pretty okay."

"Yeah," Cyril sighed. "Pretty okay."

"Well, I didn't mean it in a bad way," I tried to comfort him, putting a hand on his bare shoulder.

"I've did it with girls before but with you. . ." he muttered as he fidgeted with his fingers. "It's different. I mean, the other day at the party I thought it would be easy but now that I've given some thought into it. . . It's kinda frightening."

The young man trailed off with a nervous chuckle.

I supposed Cyril wanted me to take the lead, but I wouldn't complain. In fact, if I were to be honest, I was a bit afraid of the fact that he wanted to top me. I mean, if that was what he wanted, but I've always been more dominant. Besides, I was somewhat used to Isaac whimpering helplessly underneath me. It had certainly been a while since I felt that carnal desire stirring within, as I pinned the boy down. I missed that feeling.