Chapter 13
Iwill behave like the mature man I am when I get home. I will not stare at Everly’s ass when he walks in the door, and I will not touch my dick when he bends over.
I will not.
I refuse.
But it seems my eyeballs and hands are staging a revolt because they’re wandering to places they should not be going. It doesn’t help that Everly’s jeans are hanging down low and he’s not wearing underwear. His ass crack is showing, all sleek and smooth. I want to run my tongue up it.
“How was your day?” Everly asks, bending down to shuffle through his bag. He’s doing this on purpose. He’s giving me a long-drawn-out view of his ass. He knows exactly what’s going on with me right now.
I glance down at my cock and sigh, placing a throw pillow over my lap.
I will not lust.
“Fine,” I say and then ask, “Yours?”
“Meh, same. Saw my dad,” he tells me as he stands up and walks toward me. My dick pushes into the pillow with extreme force, wanting to burst through the stuffing.
“How was it?”
“Good,” he says, lowering himself down far too close to me. There is a whole couch and he sits right next to me. Honestly.
He leans back and spreads his arms out, placing one behind me. But that’s not what I’m focused on. I’m focused on his crotch. His dick.
It’s half hard.
At this rate, there’s a nine percent chance I will remain professional and mature.
“There is an entire couch, you know,” I grumble, and Everly turns toward me, his dirty-blond hair flopping onto his forehead. I have to dig my fingers into the pillow to keep from reaching out.
“Yeah, but I like it fine right here.”
I huff and then try to scoot over, but really can’t manage more than an inch. And when I do, he just spreads his legs wider and knocks into mine.
I’m set ablaze.
“Man,” he says, pulling up his shirt and scratching at his chest. It’s unfair really. He’s putting me in the most dire of situations. I start to sweat, my face and dick leaking. This is preposterous.
I am an adult. I have restraint.
“Do you mind if I jack off?” he asks, and my eyes nearly bug out of my head.
“What?” I ask, since I’m positive I’m hallucinating.
“I’ve had a long day and want to get off. Is that cool?”
Of course it’s not cool. It’s ridiculous. I will not have him pulling his dick out and masturbating in my living room.
“Fine. It’s fine.”
He grins and then reaches down, pulling his thick, veiny dick out, and starts to stroke it. I will not stare at it like a man in heat. I am mature.
“You can do it too, you know. Just two bros, jerking it after a long day.”
I scoff and press the pillow into my lap harder.
I’m not going to jerk off while he’s jerking off. That’s not what bros do.
Everly leans his head back and groans, his dick spurting a little precum. I tasted that. Had my mouth around it and drank from it like a fountain. This is obscene. This is indecent.
“Oh god, that feels good,” he says. “Just what I needed.”
I eye it and see that it probably does feel good. Much better than what I’m doing. Which is nothing.
“You should try it. Really will take the tension out of your neck and back,” Everly says, and I pull my lips between my teeth. That comment is silly. It does not do any such thing.
A low groan escapes him, and I reach between the pillow and my lap and give my dick a good squeeze.
I can see Everly watching me, his pupils blown out, his cheeks flushed red.
“Take it out,” he says, and I let out a gasp at the wanton demand. “Take it out and jerk it.”
“I am not a bro,” I grumble, but I’m already taking my cock out, throwing the pillow to the side and stroking it. Oh god. Yes. That feels divine. Like heaven. Like pie. Apple pie.
“Awesome,” Everly breathes, eyeing my dick. “Feels good huh?”
“Yes,” is all I can muster. I’m about to blow just from the scent of him. This is unheard of.
“Wish you could suck my dick again. Lick my hole. Felt really good,” he says on a moan and then arches his hips up, fucking into his fist. “But I know we’re gonna be professional, so I’ll just relive it in my brain instead.”
Sounds like a grand idea, and very reasonable.
We stroke our cocks, skin on skin until we’re both breathing heavily, our chests heaving.
He leans toward me, our faces turned toward one another, and our lips brush, just a taste, a fluke. And then with a grunt, Everly comes, shooting cum across his chest. The sight and smell push me over the edge. I join him, releasing into my hand with his name on my lips.
“Hell yes,” Everly says and then closes his eyes, pulling his shirt off and wiping himself up. He doesn’t even wash his hands. I should not take the shirt he’s offering me and clean myself up, but I do. I wipe up the mess I made all over my hands and groin and then continue to sit there, trying like hell to keep my composure. But it’s hard when he’s leaning into me, his head landing on my shoulder.
This is a terrible idea.
And yet, I do nothing to stop it.
I’m mostly not surviving this. It’s incredible how hot Everly is and how he flaunts it without even trying. I’m currently sitting at dinner with Lee, trying to not get a boner while he prattles on about the ribbon dance which is happening next weekend.
God help me. I don’t want to fling a ribbon around any more than I want to stop jerking off with Everly.
I shift in my seat, trying like hell to keep my focus, but finding it very hard. Everything reminds me of Everly. That peach painting that’s hanging on the wall to my left, it reminds me of his butt.
And the cucumber that woman is eating on the patio is reminiscent of his dick.
And good God, even the beige wallpaper is making me think of his flawless skin, more golden than anything, smooth and rippled with muscles.
I shift in my seat, my dick hard now.
“Why are you squirming in your seat? Does your butt itch?” Lee asks, and I frown at him.
“My butt does not itch.”
“Are you sure? Do you wash it good? Sometimes men forget to do that. I’ve been known to.”
“Lee, absolutely not. I am not talking to you about butt holes while you eat meatloaf.”
He grins at me and takes an obscenely big bite of it. “I thought you were a fan of meat.”
I let out a horrified laugh and then toss a napkin at him.
“Wipe your face, old man. You have ketchup on your chin.”
He doesn’t wipe it up, just lets it sit.
God, this man is going to be the death of me.
Him and Everly.
“So, how’s your love life?” he asks me. “LoveJoy showed up the other day with another man on his arm. When I asked him what happened to you, he said you ditched him on your date.”
“I did not ditch him. I wandered off. He was too busy with jock-man to even pay any attention to me.”
Lee grins at me, the glob of ketchup jiggling on his chin. “Ah, who did you wander off with?”
“Someone.” When he arches an eyebrow at me, I roll my eyes. “Someone that’s none of your business.”
His eyes twinkle. “Well, let me know if you want to meet my grandson. He’s quite the catch.”
“I think I’ve had enough of the dating scene,” I say, and Lee takes another large mouthful. The ketchup slips a little further down his chin.
“Let me know when you change your mind.”
I won’t. I already have enough temptation to last me until my dying day. It’s one of the reasons I’m out with Lee at his favorite diner and not back at home. Because I know that if I go back, I’m going to sit on that sofa and jack my dick. Right next to Everly’s. Our lips brushing, me fighting and losing the battle to remain professional.
I really need to stop.
It’s been a week and I haven’t been able to say no to him. Every evening, I tell my body to go to my room, but I end up sitting on the couch, pretending to watch TV until he gets home.
Then when he arrives, he lowers himself down next to me, smelling like soap after a shower, or like sweat after a long day out, and he pulls that fat cock out and fucks it with his fist.
And I can’t help but join in.
I really don’t want him feeling left out.
I’d hate for him to feel uncomfortable in my space. I told him to make himself at home.
He has.
“I won’t change my mind. I’m going to stay single.”
“You make a sad single man, Silas. You’re lonely.”
I am, and I didn’t quite realize how much until Everly moved in with me. It’s been nice having him around, even if our schedules are a little out of sync. But it’s nice to come home to him. I look forward to it.
Last night he even made me dinner.
It melted my cold, dark heart a little.
“Yeah, and what about you? Any love prospects?”
He shrugs, that deviant glint in his eyes. “Do you really want to know?”
I stare at that ketchup and shake my head. I really don’t. I’m sure it’s something that will make my stomach turn.
“Actually, I’d rather not, Lee.”
He chuckles and then proceeds to talk about ribbon dance choreography, and I just sit there nodding, my dick once more perking up at the thought of Everly.
By the time I get back home, he’s on the couch, his hand down his pants, his eyes on the door. Almost like he was waiting for me to come home.
Oh, who am I kidding? He was so waiting for me to come home.
“Hey,” he says, his voice lower than normal. “You’re late.”
“I was meeting with a friend.”
His hand stops moving, and he sits up slightly. “A platonic friend?”
“Yes,” I say as I strip my coat off and move toward him. He relaxes and spreads his legs out.
I take a seat right next to him, our thighs pressed together as I work my pants open. My dick is already hard and ready. Everly holds the lube out for me, and I let him squirt some in my palm. It’s a really nice brand, the kind that glides down dicks really smoothly.
I can feel his gaze on me, and I work my hand faster, basking in the feel of his admiration. He likes what he sees. I know he does. He always thanks me afterward.
I feel like a motherfucking king.
My eyes fall to his cock, and I watch as it leaks, precum beading on the tip before he swipes it away with his thumb. I want to engulf it with my mouth, but I don’t. Of course not. This is professional.
The utmost.
“Oh fuck,” he grunts as he arches his hips up. I can imagine so many things in this moment. I can imagine that I’m fucking into him and he’s driven wild by the slide of my dick in his hole. Or that he’s pushing that cock into me and losing all control from being strangled by my tight, willing ass.
Somehow I end up moving. I’m suddenly on top of him, pushing him back and straddling his legs.
His eyes darken, his lips parting in a groan.
“Fuck yes.”
Our dicks touch as we stroke them, working ourselves to release.
“I thought you wanted to keep it professional?” he says, and I nod, trying like to hell to be reasonable.
“I will. I will. This is so professional,” I pant, and he nods.
“It is. I think kissing is professional too,” he whimpers, and I agree. I missed him all goddamn day. I’ve been waiting for this. What’s a little kiss? What does it matter what we do at home?
It doesn’t, a little voice whispers in the back of my mind, and I let go, pushing my mouth to his. He groans as my tongue sweeps into him, tangling with his tongue, tasting him.
“I’m coming,” he sighs, pulling away from me slightly and then lets out a sweet groan, “Silas.”
It’s my name on his lips that has my hand working faster and as soon as he explodes, I topple over the edge as well, ruining my shirt in the process. I really need to remove it before sitting down. Perhaps, we should just sit naked from now on. Less laundry, and really, it’s saving the environment.
“Fuck, that’s a lot of cum,” Everly says, looking at my limp dick resting against his.
“Yeah. Was saving it up all damn day,” I say, causing him to snort.
“Yeah. Me too.”
He winks at me, and my cheeks flush. He leans forward and kisses me softly, making me whimper against his lips.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” he says gently, and I nod.
“You do too.”
We stare at each other, deeply. Our eyes never leaving the other’s, but then I hear the neighbor’s car start loudly, and it breaks us out of our stupor.
“So, um,” Everly says clearing his throat. “What’s the plan? Did you already have dinner?” he asks.
I reach over for some tissues, an industrial-sized box I picked up last week. I hand him one and he starts to wipe himself up.
“I already ate.”
“Bummer. Is it okay if I have one of your frozen dinners?” he asks, looking almost shy.
“You can have anything you’d like,” I tell him and then stand up, pulling my shirt off, making Everly’s eyes fall to my chest.
“Anything?” he asks suggestively.
My hand flexes near my side. Good God, he makes it hard.
Makes me hard.
“Anything,” I say and then tilt my head toward the hallway. “I’m going to go shower.”
He nods and stands up, his dick still out of his jeans, looking delicious. I need to shower stat. Before I do something ridiculous.
Like fall to my knees.
I’ve been doing so well. I’ve been so professional.
I’ve been like seven percent professional.
“See you tomorrow?” I ask, and he nods.
“Tomorrow.”
And as I walk away, I can feel his eyes on me, and tomorrow feels like eons away.
I don’t know when I changed my mind about being professional, but sometime in the middle of the following week, I snap. Maybe it’s the fact that the nightly jerk-off sessions with Everly have worn me down. Or maybe it’s because I hear him every morning getting off in the shower.
He makes no effort to be quiet about it. He moans my name like it’s a sin.
I stand outside the door and get off too.
Like the pervert I’ve become.
But I think what really pushed me over the edge was Wednesday, my birthday. I’ve told no one about it, but still, I pout the entire day because I’ve received no calls. Not even a text message. Even my sister forgot about it. Not that I expect her to remember. She has her own life, and we were never big on birthdays growing up. She’s not to blame.
Lee doesn’t mention it either, but then again, how could he? He doesn’t know.
I just like to feel sorry for myself, it seems.
I’m thirty-six now, one more year closer to death.
When I arrive back to my place that night, I plan to sulk about and drink a gallon of wine and wait for Everly to return. Maybe I’ll tell him, and he can help me celebrate. Maybe he’ll let me smear him with cake and lick it off him.
What’s the point of professionalism when I’m going to die anyways?
What’s the point of living if I never live?
I’m contemplating my entire life. Growing older does this to a person. It makes you wonder what the hell you’ve been doing all your life. I got my doctorate at a young age, got a great job, and yet here I am…single. My best friend is a ninety-two-year-old dude. And I have no love life.
I’m unhappy.
Fuck, I just want to be happy.
“I can be happy,” I grumble to myself as I enter my place. I drop the keys into the small ceramic bowl, and when I flick my gaze up, I see Everly. He’s naked, wearing only a jock strap, and standing in the middle of the living room, a chocolate cupcake in his hand.
A fucking present if I ever saw one.
I just stare at him, my eyes watering slightly at the sentiment.
How did he know? How the fuck did he know?
He must register the shock on my face because he smiles and says, “I went through your mail. It told me it was your birthday,” he explains and then shrugs, his nipples puckering the closer I get.
“You didn’t have to do this,” I say as he pulls out a lighter and lights the single pink candle.
“I did.”
He starts to sing “Happy Birthday” and fuck me, he has a nice voice. It’s low, husky. Makes my dick perk up.
Oh, who am I kidding? It was hard earlier. All day really. Just thinking of him.
When he’s done, the song trailing off, he grins at me. “Make a wish, Silas.”
He holds the chocolate cupcake out to me, and I pause, letting everything filter through my mind.
I wish that I wasn’t lonely anymore.
I wish that I could fuck Everly.
I wish I could hold him as we sleep.
That’s too many wishes, I think as I blow the candle out. Only one needs to come true. But as I watch the smoke slither up between us, our eyes lock.
I can have whatever I want. I don’t need a wish to make it come true.
I can make it come true.
Motherfucking me.
The realization settles within me as Everly leads me over to a kitchen chair, lowering me into it.
“I’m going to feed this to you,” he says softly as he crouches down before me. I watch as his skin shimmers golden in the dim light, watch as his fingers break part of the cupcake off and he holds it up to my mouth.
“I know that this isn’t professional?—”
“Fuck professional,” I interrupt as I lean forward and pull that piece of cake between my lips. My tongue snakes around his fingers, and I watch as his blue eyes are eclipsed by black.
His breathing grows stuttered.
“Yeah. Fuck yeah. Fuck professional,” he whispers back as he breaks off more cake and feeds it to me. I eat it all, letting him smear it across my lips, watching as his gaze darkens with each lick and bite. When I’m done, he leans forward, our breath intermingling as he kisses me clean, licking and lapping at my lips, sucking the bottom one into his mouth and making me groan.
When he pulls away, his lips red, he meets my gaze once more.
“Are you sure about his?” he asks, and I nod.
I want this too much. I want to make my own wishes come true.
I want to stop fighting it so hard.
For once in my life, I want to let myself be happy.
“Yeah.”
He stands up and leans down once more, his face near mine, his lips sliding to the shell of my ear. “Then I’m going to give you a little birthday present.”
I let out a shaky breath and watch as he fiddles with his phone. Music starts to blare from the speakers, slow and sensual, and I watch as he starts to roll his hips.
“Oh god,” I moan as I reach down and grab on to my dick as he starts to give me a lap dance.
“You can touch. There are no rules here. This is for you. Just for you.”
I reach out and without even questioning it, let my hands skate across his skin. His shoulders, his pecs, and down to his abdomen. Oh fuck. He feels so good, warm, strong.
Mine.
As the music plays through his phone, I continue touching, my fingers raking across him as he continues to grind against me, making me slowly lose my mind.
The heel of his palm drags down my dick, and I arch up into his touch.
“That’s right. You’re hard for me, aren’t you, Dr. Sinclair?”
I groan as I bring him back down for another kiss. We move like this for a minute until he pulls away and glances down at my dick.
“Take it out, show me what I do to you,” he says as he turns around and starts to cant his hips back and forth against my lap.
I do as he says, pulling my cock and balls out, my pants halfway down my thighs. He wets his lips, and I feel a spurt of precum slide from my slit just from the sight of it.
“Yes. So hot. You’re so hot.”
“So are you.”
His eyes twinkle and he bites his bottom lip.
“Wanna see something?”
“Yes.”
He widens his legs and bends over fully, giving me a glimpse of his ass so close to my face. It’s then that I notice his wet crack, lube trickling out of him. Oh fuck.
Fuck.
He’s wet for me. Prepped.
Without thinking, I drag my fingers up him, swirling my fingertip around his hole before pushing it inside. It squelches as I enter him, showing me just how much he put inside himself. For this moment.
For me.
“Were you going to fuck me, Mr. Winslow?” I ask, my voice low, feeling the slutty professor make an appearance.
He lets out a shaky exhale.
“I was hoping you’d let me,” he groans as I continue to fuck my finger in and out of him. I turn my wrist and crook my finger making him whimper.
“What about being professional?” I tease, and he moans as he starts to fuck himself back on my hand.
“You’ve been driving me crazy. Living with you. It’s too much. I couldn’t take it anymore. This was my Hail Mary, Silas.”
I push a second finger into him and watch as he grinds against it. He wants it. He wants it so bad.
“It’s Dr. Sinclair,” I say darkly.
“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Yes. I’m sorry. I…” he’s trembling as I press against his prostate, making him cry out.
“It’s fine. Mr. Winslow,” I let his name hang between us as he continues to fuck back against my hand. The sight of it, the feel of his tight hole strangling my fingers only makes me hornier.
“Turn around,” I say gruffly. “And give me my birthday present.”
My fingers slip from him, and he does as I ask, straddling my hips. I slot my bare cock at his hole and he lets out a long exhale, sinking down on it. Doesn’t even hesitate, just falls onto it.
The sensation of finally being inside of him makes me groan. Deep and feral as he takes me all the way inside, impaling himself on me.
Then he just sits there, his fingers clutching my shoulders, his forehead meeting mine.
“You feel so good inside of me,” he whispers.
“You feel good too. So fucking perfect.”
My hands move down to grab on to his ass, and I arch my hips up a little, making him gasp.
“Oh shit. Oh fuck.”
“Language,” I say, and he shakes his head, swallowing.
“Please. Please. Fuck me, Dr. Sinclair,” he begs and then kisses me, a rough, wild kiss that forces my hips up once more. My fingers dig into his ass as he rides me, the two of us working in tandem as we move. I hear the slap of his body against mine, his ass hitting my thighs as his hands slide into my hair, digging into my scalp.
We’re reduced to grunting, whining messes, eating each other’s faces as we fuck. He rides my dick so good.
Hands down, this is the best sex I’ve ever had.
I knew it would be. That’s probably why I resisted him for so long. I knew that as soon as I was inside of him, or he was inside of me, I’d be ruined.
For anyone else.
I only want him.
“Touch me. Touch me. I’m not going to last,” Everly groans, and I reach between us, fisting his cock. He’s grunting and moaning, his body starting to shake, his orgasm starting to crest. And I’m not much better. It’s a miracle that I’ve lasted this long. Some divine intervention wanted to grant me a birthday wish.
One I didn’t even think to wish for.
“Oh fuck! Fuck,” he cries out, and I feel his cock pulse in my hand. His cum jets out and coats my shirt. His hole clenches around my dick, and I can’t resist. I empty inside of him, my thrusts growing frantic until we’re finally done.
Satiated.
For the time being, at least.
“Happy fucking birthday, Silas,” he says as he kisses me sweetly.
We don’t break apart for a while, my dick still inside of him as we lazily make out. This is the best birthday present. This, right here. I could die a happy man tonight.
We make out for so long, neither of us rushing to part from the other, that I grow hard once more. As I fill out in his ass, he trembles against me, whispering that he can take it again. That he’s not too sore.
That he’s been waiting for this all his life.
So I give it to him again.
And again.
Happy birthday to me.