Chapter 22
Joey
It’s early evening when we finally bring our bags over to the guest house. Although house in a generous term. The space is all one room apart from the bathroom, which is sectioned off. The rest of it is open, a bed at the back right and a small kitchenette along the left. Near the front door is a two-seater couch.
It’s cozy but still plenty of room for two people for the weekend. Best of all, it’s private.
I flick the blinds closed on the windows that face the main house before heading Brad’s way.
“ Dude ,” he says, looking inside the small fridge. “Is that iced coffee?”
I might have told my mom about Brad’s caffeine habit. I’m not surprised she had some coffee waiting for him, nor am I surprised by the three bags of high-quality beans on the countertop.
“Look at— Oh . Hello there,” Brad says.
“Hi,” I reply, gently closing the fridge door and backing Brad up against the wall. Surprise and excitement spark in his eyes. It’s the last thing I see before my mouth is on his.
Brad groans, hands fisting in my shirt to pull me closer. There’s a quick, “Mhm, good,” and then his lips are back on mine, all chaotic energy and the boundless enthusiasm Brad seems to carry on his person at all times. There’s simply no resisting him, never has been, so I don’t even try. I meet his movements in kind, our hands tugging, lips battling, fingers and tongues demanding more. When I palm Brad’s cock through his jeans, he jolts and then sags against the wall, words mumbled against my mouth like yes, that, please .
I pull back, and Brad makes a noise of displeasure. But then I’m dropping to my knees, and his eyes flare wide.
“Oh my God,” he whispers. “Are you gonna…”
“I’m gonna,” I tell him, flicking the button on his jeans and dragging down the zipper. Brad pulls in breath after breath as I slide his pants down his legs. His lips look starkly red, his eyes so light they’re nearly clear, and I catalogue every inch of him, filing the mental image away for later as I tug his briefs to the floor.
“Oh God,” he says again.
I take his cock in hand, marveling at him here before me. How open he is. How unafraid in the face of things that truly matter. How, for a while, I thought I’d never get this. I thought it was a fantasy and nothing more.
Yet now…
Now, Brad is here with me. In this with me. He took a leap, allowing me to catch him, and there aren’t enough ways to express to him what that means to me.
“Thank you,” I tell him before wrapping my lips around the end of his cock.
His shuddering breath is music to my ears, the feel of him on my tongue heaven. He’s the perfect thickness to worship for hours without tiring, but I don’t think he’ll last that long. Even so, I start now, slipping my lips to the base of him, holding him in my throat reverently, meeting his gaze so he can see there’s no hurry in mine.
“Fuck, Joey,” he all but whispers. “Look at you. Your mouth is around my dick. Holy fuck.”
I hum, encouraging the rambling I’ve come to love—hell, I loved it from the first moment—and slowly drag my lips up toward the tip of his cock.
“Ah, God,” he says, his hands flat against the wall, his chest shaking with his breaths. “No right to feel that good. Holy shit.”
I suck on his cockhead for a moment before angling his dick out of the way and going for his balls. There’s a thunk I suspect is Brad’s head hitting the wall as I tongue one, swiping at it before running my fingers along the backside, helping lift his sac for better access. When I pull a ball into my mouth, Brad groans. Loudly.
“ Oh fuck . Your tongue. That’s really good. That’s—Jesus!”
I smirk as I manage to get his entire sac in my mouth. I run my thumb along the tip of his dick as I suck him gently, tongue rubbing the undersides of his balls.
“Double balling,” he breathes, making me choke on a laugh. He groans in response, his entire body feeling as if it’s vibrating. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Joey .”
I let his sac pop free, rolling his balls in my palm as I lift my head enough to lick up the length of his cock. “Yeah, bub.”
He looks down at me, pupils blown. “I…don’t have a conversation point. That wasn’t, like, hey, Joey ? It was just Joey , ‘God, yes, man, your mouth is a genius and I like the way you look on your knees.’”
“All that in four letters?” I murmur, tonguing the bead of precum at the tip of his dick.
“ Hah .”
I snort, taking him into my mouth again. Brad’s hips hitch forward, his hand hovering in the air for a moment as he makes an “eh?” sound I think is a question. I nod around him, and his fingers sink into my hair, his other hand still flat on the wall like he’s bracing himself.
“Your mouth is a treasure,” he gasps. “Pure gold. Fuck , you’re sexy. Holy shit. I’m gonna come.”
I pull off of him, stroking his spit-slicked shaft with my fist. “Where do you wanna unload?”
“What? I don’t fucking know, dude! You can’t expect me to make decisions right now.”
I huff, licking around his head, and he groans.
“Mouth?” he says. “No, face. Abs? Fuck . Mouth.”
I drop lower, tonguing his sac again, pulling each ball into my mouth one at a time as Brad’s grip tightens in my hair.
“ Joey ,” he groans, the sound a plea.
Easing upwards, I swallow his cock to the root. Brad cries out, practically humping my face as his orgasm draws near. Keeping my eyes on his, my own watering, I press my fingers back behind his balls, lightly brushing his hole. He sucks in a breath but doesn’t squirm away, so I rub more firmly with the tips of two fingers, and Brad comes down my throat with a hoarse, surprised shout.
He bows over me, both hands in my hair now, his cock swelling and releasing against my tongue. I continue sucking, keeping my fingers where they are, moving my hand just enough for the heel of my palm to massage his sac. He looks wrecked, his hair in disarray, his face gorgeously flushed and his mouth parted as he gasps for breath.
When his tension unwinds and he mutters, “Fuck, holy fuck,” I ease away, grabbing his hip to help keep him steady and using the neck of my shirt to wipe the spit and cum off my face. A second later, there’s a soft tap against the bottom of my chin.
I look up to find Brad staring right at me.
“Sorry,” he says. “Just…needed to see your face.”
I manage to keep my fuck inside. But only barely.
“Here,” Brad says, holding out his hand. I let him tug me to my feet. “So, uh. That was, uh… Yeah.”
My lips twitch. “Yeah?”
“Big fat yeah. Fifteen out of ten on the blowie. Like, pretty sure I lost consciousness for a second there. What, uh…what do you want?” he asks, tugging me closer. His fingers drift up under the hem of my shirt, seeking my stomach like a homing missile. “I mean, I could totally blow you, dude, but it’s not going to be as elegant as that.”
“Could I…”
I hesitate, but Brad gives my stomach a poke. “No, tell me.”
“Could I fuck your thighs?” I ask, knowing it’s the closest I’m going to get to fucking Brad the way I want right now. I’d be inside of him in a heartbeat if I thought he was ready, but we’re not there yet. And that’s fine.
He doesn’t look unhappy with the request. If anything, he looks intrigued. “What, uh… How would we do that?”
Taking his jaw in my hand, I angle his face toward mine. His breath catches, and I close the distance between us, kissing him thoroughly, knowing he’s tasting himself on my tongue. The thought is thrilling.
Breaking away, I tell him, “Turn around.”
There’s another intake of breath, and then Brad twists, kicking his pants and briefs off his foot as he spins to face the wall. I get my own pants down enough for my cock to spring free, and then I spit in my palm. Brad looks back at me as I wet my cock, a soft curse leaving his lips.
Stepping close, I press my lips to his cheek and guide my dick between his thighs. “Okay?” I check.
“Yeah,” he breathes.
“Close your legs.”
He does, stepping so his feet are pressed together, his palms flat against the wall. I interlace the fingers of our right hands together, bracing my left just below his stomach.
“You’re gorgeous,” I tell him, punching my hips. He gasps, and I repeat the motion, relishing the sound he makes. “You’re good. And kind. And so fucking sexy it kills me sometimes.”
“ Joey .”
“I want you all the time,” I admit, the sound of my hips slapping Brad’s ass and the feel of his thighs around my dick turning my control into a tenuous thing. “All the time. And I’ll never take more than you want to give me. But I’d take everything if you let me.”
Brad’s fingers tighten against mine, and he turns his head. “Take what you need. I trust you, Joey.”
The noise I let out is pained. Brad doesn’t object when I move my arm up around his chest, pressing him into the wall as I rut against him harder. I hold him to me, my nose at the back of his neck, everything in me riding a razor’s edge as I battle not to lose myself. But there’s no stopping it. I know I’m already lost.
I clamp my teeth down on Brad’s shoulder as I come, my hips pressed to his ass, my cum coating the insides of his thighs as I jerk against him. It’s so much, and not enough—not ever enough—and I don’t know how to tell him he’s ruined me. That I’d take a lifetime of holding him in my arms while my cum dripped down his legs over ever feeling another’s touch. I don’t want them. Any of them.
It’s not logical. To know that so soon. To be so utterly sure of it.
But love, well… I don’t think it’s an emotion that’s ever been ruled by logic or reason.
I don’t move. Not right away. I keep my arm around Brad’s chest in an approximation of a hug, my lips pressed to his shoulder. Our hands are still intertwined, the sound of our breaths mingling in the otherwise quiet room.
“One… Two… Three…” I say between breaths.
Brad huffs a laugh, face still turned toward me. “Four… Five…”
“Six,” I finish, bringing my nose up to his hair, breathing in his subtle ocean scent. It’s even better than this place, and I let it settle in my lungs, infiltrate me fully.
“You, uh…you’re not letting go,” Brad says quietly.
“No,” I agree.
He hums, shifting just enough for my cock to slip from between his thighs. A curious sort of “huh” follows. “I’ve, uh, never had someone make such a mess of me before.”
“Don’t like it?”
“No, no,” he says. “It’s not that. I just feel…wet? It’s kinda hot.”
I press a kiss to the shell of his ear. “Does that mean I can come on you again?”
“On me. In me, maybe.”
I grunt.
“I mean, we’ve already talked test results,” he goes on. “We’re not fucking anyone else. It’d be kinda hot to know your cum is in my ass. For you to know. For me to know you know.”
“Yeah,” I manage weakly.
“Would that… I mean, it’s not like either of us could get pregnant, so would it be a big deal? To skip the condoms?”
I let out a slow, slow breath. “It’s a matter of comfort level and trust,” I tell him seriously. “Some people don’t like that. And a lot of sexually active queer men wouldn’t consider it unless they trust the other person implicitly. Generally, that translates to a long-term relationship.”
“Oh,” he says, the one syllable sad.
“But I trust you, bub,” I continue quickly, pulling back enough to turn him my way. I resist dropping my gaze to his half-naked body, instead keeping my eyes on his as I frame his neck with my palms. “I trust you. And I’d enjoy it. So if you want me to fuck you bare…or if you want to fuck me bare, I’m game.”
He swallows somewhat roughly. “I’m curious about it.”
“Me fucking you,” I guess.
He nods. “That felt good.”
“Which part?” I ask, pulling my pants up to grab some paper towel.
“Um… You touching me. And…you behind me like that. I, uh…” He lets out a breath. “You have this way of making me feel small? Not in a bad way. In a good way, as if you’re curling around me like a protective bubble. And that’s new for me. To be the one being…taken care of? None of my girlfriends in the past took that more…assertive role. And I know being manly has nothing to do with who’s doing the dicking. Like, roles in the bedroom don’t define a person any which way. It’s just…”
I wait as Brad collects his thoughts, using the opportunity to wipe up the mess between his legs now that I’ve done a cursory clean of myself. He gives me a quick thanks, not bashful in the least.
“Here’s the thing,” he finally says. “I know I’ll enjoy fucking you. It’s a given. But I’m fairly certain you fucking me is going to rearrange my world a little. And I guess I’m kinda looking forward to that.”
My heart thumps painfully as I get to my feet. I step close to Brad, unable to keep my distance, unable to stop myself from brushing his hair back and cupping his face in my palms. “I’ll make it so good for you,” I promise.
He lets out an incredulous laugh. “See? That. That’s what I’m talking about. All you have to do is say a few words, and I’m gone. How do you do that? How do you make me want you so much?”
“You must kinda like me,” I tease, using his words from earlier.
He snorts, his hands on my hips pulling me closer. “Joey-roo, my dude, like is not a strong enough word for you.”
My inhale is shaky, but Brad goes on.
“I’m a little bit obsessed, to be honest. It’s embarrassing. And ho , hello, is that Greg again? Thought he went to sleep.”
“He must have a thing for beautiful men being open and honest,” I tell him, stroking his cheek with my thumb.
“Is that what we’re calling filterless now?” he asks, forehead wrinkled. “I mean, I’m not opposed. It’s just— Oh . Do that again.”
I oblige, running my lips along his neck, my stubble bristling his skin.
“Fuck,” he mutters, hands tightening on my hips. “You’re just…full of…benefits, aren’t you?”
His breathlessness has me smiling. “Loads. Why don’t we get in the shower, and I’ll show you the benefit of having an extra pair of hands around?”
“Yeah, yep. I like your hands. And— holy shit . You’re carrying me. Like, I’m just up in the air right now as if that’s a perfectly normal thing for a guy my size.”
I smile against Brad’s neck, his arms and legs wrapped around me tight like a clingy koala. His briefs dangle from his foot for a moment before dropping to the floor, the paper towel I used to clean us up long forgotten. I’ll take care of it later.
Right now, I have an inquisitive, kind-hearted man in my arms, and I have every intention of showing him that obsession he mentioned?
It goes both ways.