Mine

Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT

Marshall

“H ow are you settling in?” John asks when we meet for lunch. I considered asking him to go to JT’s restaurant but decided against it. It isn’t my place to get into the middle of their relationship. John and I have too much history between us, for me to suddenly start meddling in his relationship with his son. Not only that, but no matter how appreciative JT was to see me there a month ago, that doesn’t mean showing up with John would be a good idea. Would JT assume John only went because of me?

“I’m settling in just fine,” I reply.

“Do you like the people you work with? Gotten to know any of them? You have a habit of losing yourself in work and not much else. You should meet friends, Marsh…just as long as none of them take my place.”

I chuckle. I can’t say he’s wrong, and he mentions these things only because he cares so much. It’s not as if I’m a loner or a total introvert. I’ve had friends. I go do things, but probably not as much as most people, and letting people in is difficult for me. Surface relationships and having random people to go out with works much better for me than trying to build what I have with John with anyone else.

I open my mouth to reply, but then I think about CravingMore and stop myself. What would John think if I told him that not only have I been spending my evenings talking to a twenty-five-year-old sub online, but that I look forward to it more than anything I can remember in a long time? That I don’t know what he looks like or the sound of his voice or the color of his eyes, but I enjoy flirting with him, teasing him, snagging quiet pieces of who he is from the conversations we have.

Somehow, I don’t think that’s what John is talking about. “No one could ever take your place, John. You’re my brother.”

“That’s how you better answer.” He winks. “But you still need other friends. I want you to love being home. I want you to be happy.”

It’s such a John thing to say. He does want people’s happiness. He cares about others, almost too much sometimes. What he doesn’t get is that our ideas of happiness aren’t always the same as his. That doesn’t mean we’ve failed or are lonely or doing something wrong. We’re all built differently. And he’s not a bad person, just one who doesn’t know how or where to direct the love he feels for those in his life.

“I’m happy,” I tell him, but I leave out the part that I’m intrigued by a man who is barely older than his son. It shouldn’t matter, but I’m not sure how John would react to that. Hell, I don’t know how I feel about it myself.

“Good. That’s the most important thing. I know I can come across as difficult sometimes. I don’t try to be. I just…”

“I know,” I assure him.

“Callie always tells me I need to stop trying to fix everyone’s lives. I appreciate that you understand me. It’s like I always have to be focused on something.”

I’ve seen that throughout our whole lives, and while it’s not always easy to deal with, I respect that quality in him. “Hey, remember that time you had to make the perfect bottle rocket in science and set your kitchen on fire?”

John barks out a laugh. “Oh God. My mom was going to kill me. You calmed her down by reminding her it was all in the name of getting an A.”

“That was nice of me,” I tease.

“God, I’m lucky to have you.”

Our conversation continues with simpler topics after that—some work they want to do around the house, colors Callie wants to paint, their work and day-to-day lives. She’s a teacher, so she’s off for the summer, and this is the time they work on the house. We’re almost finished eating when I can’t stop myself from asking, “How’s JT?” Something about that barbecue, coupled with going to his restaurant, has kept him in my thoughts more than usual.

“He’s doing the same. Hasn’t been around as much. I just…don’t know how to reach him sometimes.”

I frown. “You don’t have to reach him. You just have to be there for him, support him and make sure he knows you love him.”

“He knows that. God, he has to know that. He’s our whole world. And I know it seems like I’m hard on him sometimes, but…you wouldn’t get it. You don’t have kids. I want what’s best for him.”

His statement lands wrong in my chest, even if in some ways he’s right. “That doesn’t mean I don’t understand you want what’s best for your son. But I guess I think he’s the one who knows what’s best for him, and even if he doesn’t, he’ll learn. He’s a good man.”

John nods. “Yeah, he is. It’s just…we’re so different. I want to understand him, but I don’t. He’s been given so many opportunities in life that other people fight for. His lacrosse talent, loving parents, the fact that he’s never gone without, that even if he couldn’t have gotten a scholarship for college, we could have paid for it. I feel like he’s throwing it all away and one day he’ll regret it.”

I nod, unsure how to get through to him. “You could be right. He might regret it, and he might have thrown away a lot of opportunities, but he might not regret it either. You raised a son who knows who he is and is proud of who he is. He’s determined. Just like you, only in different ways.”

He bristles slightly. “I’m proud of my son, Marsh. I’ll always be on his side.” There’s a slight edge to his voice he didn’t have a moment before, which is what I worried about. I don’t want to go too far.

“I know. Ignore me. You’re right. You know JT better than I do, and what do I know about being a father?”

Now he gives me an almost sad smile, not doing a good job at hiding the fact that he feels bad for me, like I’m missing something. “But you’re a hell of an uncle, and I’m so damn glad JT has you in his corner too.”

I shift in my seat. It’s not as if he’s never said before that I’m basically an uncle to JT, but it’s not something that’s truly been a thing. I’m always just Marsh to JT—his dad’s best friend. I don’t know why I’m even thinking about that anyway.

We finish our lunch and go our separate ways. Half a day of work left until tonight, when I’ll again meet a young man online who is more intriguing to me than he should be.

*

CravingMore: Do you ever feel like no matter what you do, it’s the wrong thing? Or like what feels right to you is disappointing to the people you care about, but if you change for them, then you’re not being true to yourself?

I stare at the screen, surprised by the question. Sure, CravingMore and I have talked about all sorts of things, but he’s never asked a question like this, and I’m not sure where it came from.

FulfillingDominance: Are you okay?

CravingMore: Yeah, just a lot on my mind.

FulfillingDominance: Who do you feel you let down?

CravingMore: I’d rather not say. Is that okay, Sir?

I smile, which is ridiculous. I don’t understand why I’m even doing it. Because he called me Sir and asked permission? That’s my thing. It’s always been my thing, and it’s never made me smile simply seeing it on a screen before.

FulfillingDominance: Yes, it’s okay. And I think disappointment is a part of life—both feeling disappointed and others feeling it in us. What matters is the why and how you deal with it. Being true to yourself is always the most important thing. Is this about being a sub?

I wait on pins and needles. Is he going to decide this is something he doesn’t want? Though I don’t believe that’s true at all. Despite never having met him, I sense how much CravingMore wants this, needs this, that it’s a part of who he is, the way it’s part of who I am. It could be that’s how he feels he’s letting someone down.

FulfillingDominance: There is someone in my life who doesn’t understand, and it’s a topic we haven’t discussed in years. I know it made them look at me differently, and that hurt, but I couldn’t deny who I am, and I damn sure know there’s nothing wrong with it. The truth is, other people don’t have to understand us, they just have to give us the freedom to be who we are and love us regardless.

CravingMore: Jesus, I just got goose bumps reading that. It’s not about my sexuality or being a sub, but I can relate all the same. And I can definitely say that this person with other expectations from me would probably be disgusted if they knew that sometimes I ache with the need to completely let go…to give control to someone else to fuck me and hurt me and order me around as they please.

My cock twitches beneath my boxer briefs, sweat beading on my brow. I want to be that for him in a way I’m not sure I’ve ever wanted with anyone else. I don’t understand the draw, the connection, but it’s palpable and making me yearn.

CravingMore: Sir? he asks when I don’t reply for a few minutes.

FulfillingDominance: I’m here, boy. Trying to remind myself that I should focus on making sure you know that being true to yourself is the most important thing, and that nothing you want is a reason to be disgusted with you, but I’m getting distracted by my cock.

CravingMore: Yes, that, please. Can we focus on that? Sir, can we focus on your cock? I want to meet you…to serve you. I crave being your good boy.

An electrical current of want shoots through me. It’s been a long time, too fucking long. I can’t put my finger on why I’m putting this off with him, why I haven’t met with him yet, because I know I will. My desire for him is too strong, the things he says make me too curious. I want to take him apart, make him cry and put him back together over and over and over again.

Part of me fears that if we meet, it won’t feel the same as it does here. That I’ll lose this part of my nights that I’ve come to look forward to so much over the last month. That he’ll feel too young for me or I’ll be too old for him, which is absurd. These aren’t possibilities I’ve ever worried about before. In the grand scheme of things, I don’t even know this man, so I don’t understand why it matters.

But I want him. There’s no denying it.

FulfillingDominance: Do you have a dildo?

I imagine a smile on his face when he reads my question. Does one side of his mouth kick up higher than the other? Does he have dimples? I’m dying to see him, even though I won’t do that. Even if we move forward online, I won’t allow him to show his face.

CravingMore: Yes, Sir.

FulfillingDominance: I want you to do exactly as I say. Can you do that for me? Can you follow my orders precisely?

My blood heats simply from my typing those words.

CravingMore: Yes. I promise. I’ll be good.

FulfillingDominance: I know you will. First, I want you to switch over to your phone. I know you said you have the app on there. Take off your clothes for me and send me a photo of your hole. Don’t get your face in it, just your hole. That’s all I need from you tonight, and all you need is to give me what I want.

CravingMore: Yes, Sir. I can do that.

FulfillingDominance: Not yet.

FulfillingDominance: After I see my hole—because when we’re in a scene, it belongs to me—I want you to get your dildo and lube. Take a second photo with the dildo in my hole. Once you send me that, you have eight minutes to fuck yourself with it and get yourself off. I want a photo of your load on your stomach when you’re finished. If you can do that in eight minutes, I’ll plan a date for us to meet.

CravingMore: Jesus, yes. God yes. I want that. I’m ready.

My pulse quickens unexpectedly, like this is new and unfamiliar to me. This reaction he inspires is both confusing and intoxicating. I can’t stop wanting more.

FulfillingDominance: Okay. Begin.

I set my laptop aside and tug off my underwear. My dick is hard and throbbing, pulsing with need as I grab the lube from the drawer. Once I’m slicked up, I start to stroke myself, eyes glued to the screen, waiting for the first photo to come through.

My cock pulses when it does, his pale cheeks spread to show the tight, pink ring between them. There’s a light dusting of hair in his crack, and as sexy as that may be, one day I’ll shave it for him.

FulfillingDominance: Good boy.

A minute later the next photo comes through, the phone angled so I can’t see anything but his ass propped up on the pillow, hole stuffed and stretched with a dildo. A shiver runs the length of me, my dick pulsing in my hand.

FulfillingDominance: I can’t wait to fuck you. I will the first time we meet. Maybe I’ll fuck you in the bathroom of a restaurant or coffeehouse where we meet…but that’s only if you hurry and make yourself come.

I quicken my strokes on my aching erection, eyes never leaving the screen, waiting for more. CravingMore doesn’t respond, obeying me and only doing as I say.

I wish I could see him, wish I could hear the sounds he’s making or Sir on his lips. What does his voice sound like? What does that tight, pink hole taste like? I want to know it all.

The minutes tick by as I stroke my cock and tease my balls. At seven minutes and thirty seconds the final photo comes through of his softening cock in a nest of dark hair, his cum on his belly.

CravingMore: Did I do good, Sir?

I let loose, giving in to the pressure inside me, not fighting the orgasm that’s been teasing me, thick ribbons of cum landing in the dark hair on my stomach and chest.

I look at his pretty picture, at his cock and empty balls, both of which are smaller than mine.

I pluck my phone from the nightstand, take a photo, and log in to the app, sending him the proof of what he did to me.

FulfillingDominance: You were a very good boy. Next time you’ll be here to lick it up.

Somehow, I know he’s smiling.