“So if you wanna level up quick,” he said casually, like we hadn’t just shared the weirdest shower moment of my life, “you gotta work on grip control. I could feel his eyes on me, burning a hole through my quivering body. On the contrary, I was pretty sure I would be leaking pre-cum at any moment. Open, exposed, no curtains, no privacy. wrestling,” I said, still dazed, pretending to focus on his advice while my brain was stuck replaying the last five minutes like a glitchy highlight reel. I wanted to protest, to stop him, but my body betrayed me, arching into his touch, craving more. I picked the most inconspicuous spot I could find, hoping to disappear into the tile. But his thumb pressed at an angle, right against my hole, that made my knees buckle slightly. I continued soaping up my arm pits and chest and willing my boner to disappear. I was hyper-aware of every inch of his hands as they pressed against my body, the heat of his skin, the rough texture of his palms, the skilled pressuring of his fingers. “Colt,” I
