In Too Deep by Alex Winters

In Too Deep (The Deep End 1)
Alex Winters
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2023 Alex Winters

“Mmmmmmmm…”

Quinn Hampton murmured drowsily, wriggling closer to the warm, dewy skin nestled against his own as if wriggling beneath a cozy comforter. He slowly opened his eyes, although his eyelids felt as lazy as the rest of his body, blinking at the early morning sun as it shined in through the bay window under which he lay.

Correction. Where they lay.

“Finally,” a familiar voice next to him said, warm breath washing against his throat as Quinn shivered with sudden, unquenchable desire.

Quinn turned his head atop a soft, puffy pillow to find Dash Thatcher lying beside him, sinewy body as long and lean and sexy as ever. “The hell?” he asked dreamily, still half-asleep and far from alarmed. “Personal space, much?”

Dash let out his warm, familiar chuckle, as sweet as the sultry breeze drifting through the open window above and the dewy look in his rich, brown eyes. “I don’t hear you complaining, baby,” he said before glancing down the length of Quinn’s bare torso. “I don’t see you complaining, either.”

“Damn!” Quinn marveled at his own erection, stiff and pointed straight up at the dilapidated roof of the family lake house. Then again, he shouldn’t have been so surprised. He always got hella horny whenever he drank; stiff, straining morning wood was his own personal version of a hangover.

“You finally noticed.” Dash nuzzled Quinn’s cheek as he inched closer, the king-size mattress squeaking in protest as their bodies synced like the ragged jigsaw puzzle they’d formed so often back in school.

“Finally? How long has it been like that?”

They lay on their backs in the middle of the big, comfy bed, side by side and hip to hip. Dash eased his ankle over Quinn’s as if to hold him in place. Quinn didn’t mind. Hell, he hadn’t felt this turned on in years.

Dash touched the tender flesh just below Quinn’s chest, the flat space above his newly fluttering belly. “Ten minutes, give or take.”

“You’ve been watching the whole time?” Quinn shivered as Dash moved his hand lower. His long fingers were more than familiar with his old friend’s skin and he knew just how to make Quinn squirm and sweat beneath his expert touch.

“I mean, it is kind of mesmerizing,” Dash teased, as he circled a single finger around Quinn’s belly button, making him quiver and wriggle anew as he gripped the sheets beneath him as if to keep from melting straight onto the floor.

“How long have you been up?” Quinn risked a glance at his old lover, spying Dash’s glance his way, the look as syrupy as his Southern twang.

“You know I can never sleep after a night of drinking,” he replied. “Especially with you, babe.”

Quinn grinned almost bashfully, recalling how they’d run into each other at the Quick Pik Shop downtown the night before, rushing to beat the clock and snatch up that last six-pack of beer before stores stopped selling them promptly at 2 AM. Quinn hadn’t just been surprised to see Dash back in town after three years apart, but elated! After a few minutes of nervous chitchat and harmless small talk while cashing out, it had only felt right to invite him back to the lake house for a beer or two and to, uh… catch up.

When a beer or two turned into the whole six-pack, it had only felt right to invite Dash to stay the night. Why risk driving home and getting a DUI on his first night back in town, right? Better to spend the night in the big king-size bed Quinn had dragged into the living room while the family lake house was being renovated instead.

Together, naturally.

Somehow, they’d managed to fall asleep without getting handsy, but Quinn didn’t feel like it was an accident that he’d woken up with a raging hard-on the first time he’d slept with Dash in years.

“What time is it?” he murmured, not really caring but not quite sure what else to say at such an awkward moment. Their handful of times together back in high school had always been rushed affairs; stolen kisses and frenzied hand jobs in questionably private spaces, neither of them having the luxury to linger the next morning in each other’s arms, naked and hard and hungry for more. To say that Quinn was nervous, suddenly, to find Dash in his bed, both of them hard as wrought iron, would have been a gross understatement.

Dash seemed to sense that Quinn was just making small talk and slid his hand lower to riffle through Quinn’s thick, untended pubic thatch. “Time for a trim, babe.” He twirled several tendrils of thin black hair around his fingers and tugged playfully as Quinn winced with the bittersweet sensation of being teased by someone he knew so well and, yet, hardly knew at all.

Quinn glanced sideways, nodding at Dash’s dirty blond hair, long and loose and straggling around his bare shoulders. “You’re one to talk,” he murmured just before Dash gripped the base of his straining cock as a slow smile crept across his lips.

“I think we’re done talking here, Quinn.” Dash squeezed gently as Quinn ground his bare ass helplessly into the lumpy mattress beneath them, using the leverage to push slightly deeper into Dash’s loving grip. “That is, unless you’d like me to narrate what I’m about to do to this pretty little prick of yours, hmmmmm?”

Dash chuckled lazily, little flutters of warm, sexy breath washing across the blush of Quinn’s throat as he watched, helplessly, as Dash glided his long, expert fingers up and down his swollen shaft. He moaned appreciatively, the white sheets falling away from his bare thighs as he spotted the plaid boxer shorts he’d worn to bed dangling precariously off one ankle.

Dash noticed too, while reaching the swollen tip of Quinn’s cock and clasping the puckered, sensitive flesh gathered just beneath. “Yeah, you kicked those off while you were tossing and turning in your sleep last night,” he explained before giving Quinn’s bare throat a soft, tender peck that sent shivers coursing through his skin.

“Must have been dreaming,” Quinn said as Dash expertly gathered the drizzles of precum dotting his spongy cock tip and used them to slather moisture back down the length of his smooth, compact shaft. Quinn knew he wasn’t the biggest dude in the locker room, but Dash had never complained about his diminutive size. Instead, he’d always seemed to enjoy the compactness of Quinn’s sturdy six inches, as if in contrast to his own banana cock.

“Dreaming about what, babe?” Dash murmured, slowly stroking Quinn’s morning wood as if they were still back in high school, meeting up for late night hookups in the woods, empty, ramshackle barns or, that one time, in the backseat of Dash’s car.

Quinn turned to find Dash peering over at him. “You, naturally.”

They kissed then, soft, wet lips growing full and loud in the quiet stillness of an early summer morning. Dash had always been a good kisser. He knew just when to part those full, ripe lips to slide in a tongue and when to hold back, caressing Quinn’s own tongue until Quinn begged for more and, just as quickly, got it.

They’d been down-low lovers, once upon a time. In a tiny town like Lost Lake, Tennessee, as conservative as it was Southern, they had had to be. Sneaking away when they could, late nights or early mornings, booty calls at 3 AM and hot, sticky hand jobs in deserted dugouts as the sun rose and gave their swollen knobs a golden sheen just before they burst all over each other, fluttering bellies drizzled in blasts of youthful jizz that both embarrassed and thrilled them in equal measure.

Dash kissed him breathless, stroking him lazily all the while, his touch as electric as it was patient, as if he, too, was remembering the hot, hectic times back in school with Quinn. As if Dash, too, was enjoying the luxury of lying next to each other in an actual bed, one they’d never had the good fortune to enjoy back in school where a single slipup would have brought their carefully closeted worlds crashing down all around them…