Kissing Practice - Exchange Student Part 7

It started with a dumb question. Or maybe not dumb. Just Ren. We were lying in bed again. Clothes on this time. Kind of. I was in briefs.

It started with a dumb question.

Or maybe not dumb. Just Ren.

We were lying in bed again. Clothes on this time. Kind of. I was in briefs. He had one of his loose shirts on and nothing underneath — which was basically the same as being naked.

We’d been watching TikToks for an hour, laughing at stupid slang, pointing out hot guys and then pretending we weren’t, until the screen dimmed and the room got quiet.

Ren rolled onto his side, his fingers tracing little circles on my stomach.

“Nate,” he whispered. “Can we practice… kissing?”

I turned to look at him.

His lips were parted, eyes soft. Serious.

I nodded.

No teasing. No smirk. Just yes.

He leaned in and kissed me.

It was soft at first. Careful. He tilted his head awkwardly like he’d overthought it, but I slid my hand to the back of his neck and deepened it. We fell into rhythm. Wet mouths, slow breaths, tongue teasing tongue.

Then he pulled back. Barely. Just enough to whisper:

“Can I show you… how I do it back home?”

My whole body tensed. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

He sat up and peeled his shirt off. No underwear. His skin glowing in the dark.

I did the same.

Then he straddled me.

Not grinding — not yet. Just placing his hips on mine. Lying flat against me.

His body was warm. Familiar.

And then he started moving.

That slow, steady dry-hump motion. His hips grinding against mine, bare skin on bare skin, dicks trapped and throbbing between our stomachs. It was how I’d first heard him that night, moaning into his pillow, thinking he was dreaming.

But now?

Now it was intentional.

He kissed me as he moved. Lips hungry. Tongue insistent. Hands all over my chest.

I bucked up into him, and we both gasped.

Our cocks slid together, leaking, slick.

He pressed down harder. Rubbing. Rocking. Moaning.

Then, softly, between gasps:

“You like my hips on you?”

“Fuck—yeah.”

“You feel so big under me…”

I froze. Pulled back slightly, blinking.

“What the fuck—where’d you learn to talk like that?”

He bit his lip. Smiled.

“I learned… for you.”

And he kept going.

“You taste so good when I suck you…”

“I think about your cum when I rub…”

“I want to ride you. Someday. Want to feel it inside…”

My head was spinning.

I kissed him again, harder. We were rutting into each other now, sweat sticking, skin sliding. The bed creaked beneath us, our moans filling the dorm.

He pressed his forehead to mine, gasping:

“Please come with me…”

I did.

So did he.

Warm streaks of cum between our bodies. Breathing heavy. Shaking. Holding each other.

He didn’t move.

He curled up against my chest, legs tangled in mine, hand resting on my stomach.

We fell asleep like that.

No words.

No confusion.

Just home.