Chapter 12 #2
“I’m screwing this up so bad. Jos hates my job. I don’t know, maybe he hates me—” I broke off because there was Jos, standing in the doorway.
He stared at me, then pivoted and slammed his way out the door. I ran after him, but he jumped on his bike without his helmet and ignored me when I called his name. Standing on the pedals, pumping hard, Jos disappeared down the road.
“Well, fuck.”
Callum said, “Yeah,” at my shoulder. “Do you think he saw us? You know, together?”
I tried to focus on Callum’s worries, not my own.
“Nothing to see. It was just a hug.” Other than that moment of weakness when I took comfort with my nose against Callum’s skin.
Would Jos have made anything of that? Was that why he ran off?
I didn’t think so. “I was losing it. You were being a friend. I don’t think that would add up to gay to him. ”
“I hope not.”
“He’s not homophobic. But he does want me to quit my job.”
Together, we peered down the road, till Callum took a long breath and nudged my shoulder. “He’ll be back. Two hours till dinnertime. Let him work off whatever he’s feeling.”
“I guess.”
“And hey.” He nudged me harder. “It means we’re alone in the house, at least for a bit. Wanna join me for a shower?”
“I… Yes.” The thought of hot water and a hotter man, and just feeling, not thinking, made me able to take a deeper breath. “Yeah, sounds great.”
Callum grinned. “Come on, then. Your shower or your other shower?”
I laughed. “Main bathroom.” The other showers were small, except maybe the one in Dad’s suite, which I wouldn’t think about, at all. “Let me grab clean clothes and I’ll meet you there.”
When I eased the bathroom door open a few minutes later, the air was already steamy.
Water pounded down behind the glass, darkening Callum’s hair to chestnut and running in streams over his muscled back and that ass.
He glanced over his shoulder at me and grinned.
I set my clothes on the counter and made sure the door was locked, then slid the glass panel open and stepped into the tub.
Callum made room, letting me have the water, and scooped a handful of lather from his chest onto mine. “Here, get clean.” He went on soaping himself, and I watched his hands, mesmerized by the froth catching in the darkened hair on his pecs and under his arms.
After a moment, he paused, cupped my face in soapy hands, and kissed me. Faint salt lingered on his upper lip, and his tongue was hot and demanding. I opened my mouth, and he drove deep. A fiery ache welled up inside me, my groin tight, my asshole clenching with need.
“Fuck me,” I muttered. “Please fuck me.”
He kissed me again and moved his hands to my ass cheeks, digging in with his fingers. I whined and leaned into him, relishing the hot press of his cock along my hip. Then my foot slipped and I had to grab his arms.
He laughed against my mouth. “I want in that ass, but not bad enough to risk a bathroom sex injury. You got a bed?”
I only hesitated a moment. My room was fairly isolated. Even if Jos came home quickly, he might not hear anything. Odds were, he was gone for a while, and God, I want. “Sure. My room.”
“Get clean and lead the way.”
It felt illicit, yet oddly freeing and hot as hell, to lead Callum, wrapped in just a towel with his clothes in hand, down the hall and up the stairs to my room. Our damp feet padded on the treads. I forgot to warn him about the bad one, and the step groaned under his weight.
Callum laughed. “Might mark that one, so I don’t trigger the walk-of-shame alarm in the future.”
I liked the idea of a future where we might do this again. With everything going wrong, Callum was something going very right. Taking two steps down past him, I scratched at the ugly wallpaper at the level of the bad step until I had a one-inch patch picked off at eye level. “There.”
He looked at me, his head cocked. “That seems a bit destructive.”
I didn’t tell him I was ready to burn the world down, if he would just fuck me so I didn’t have to think. “Come on.”
My bed sat neatly made, thank goodness, the habits of a lifetime with a military dad deeply ingrained.
I closed and locked the door behind us, and dropped my towel.
My dormer windows let in late-afternoon sunshine, but unless someone was perched in the maple tree, no spectators could see us up here.
Callum set his clothes on the chair and tossed his towel away, and I was glad I hadn’t pulled any curtains.
The sun gilded his pale, smooth skin and caught copper lights out of the mat of curls on his chest and groin.
His erection had softened during our stair climb, but now, under my gaze, his cock filled slowly, rising hard and thick.
“Tell me you have stuff,” he said, staring at my own dick that was responding almost as fast.
“Of course. Be prepared. I was a Scout. Not that they were big on gay sex ed.” I pulled open the drawer of my nightstand where toys and supplies lived, set the bottle of lube out on top, and tossed a couple of condoms beside it. “How do you want me?”
“Bottom’s choice,” Callum offered.
I thought about lying on my back so I could see his face, but that felt dangerous. We were fuck-buddies and he was going to rail my ass so I didn’t think about anything. Staring into his eyes wouldn’t be good for my thinking-too-much problem. “Hands and knees, then.”
“A classic.” He came to me and cupped my head, kissed me hard, then waved at the bed. “Assume the position.”
I yanked the covers down because that bedspread had been Grandma’s, but the sheets would wash. Or towels. I spread mine over the sheet, then moved onto the mattress, hands and knees planted. I wanted to get messy and filthy and be made to come all over the place. “Go for it.”
“How romantic.”
“We’re not romantic,” I reminded him.
“I know. It was a joke.” He came to my side, bent and kissed me, then climbed onto the bed behind me. I felt his long fingers on my ass, kneading, then spreading me. “Hell, yeah. Been thinking about this.”
“How long?”
He gave an odd laugh, so I said, “What?”
“I never told you, but I had a major crush on you in high school.”
“Seriously?” I craned over my shoulder to look at him. “You must’ve been what, fourteen?”
“Something like that.” He bent and sucked hard on my shoulder, till I imagined there’d be a hickey.
“’Course, I didn’t know enough to dream about getting my cock in this pretty ass.
” He gave my ass cheek a sharp smack that stung, then heated, and I moaned.
“Yeah. More like kissing you behind the bushes, jerking off together if I was thinking big. Lack of imagination.”
I laughed, because he’d done that bushes kiss now, but when he ran a finger down my crack, my laughter turned to a gasp.
“Right here.” He rubbed a dry fingertip over my hole. “Gonna fuck you good.”
The lube bottle clicked, and then a slippery wet finger pressed into me. I sighed and relaxed to take the intrusion, my ass sensitive and eager after so long. “Yeah. Do it.”
Callum pushed deeper, then pulled out and came back with two fingers.
Clearly not his first time. He found my prostate quickly, rubbing and tapping, dragging grunts and moans from me.
My dick was already iron-hard and dripping.
I rocked back onto his hand, silently asking for more.
He chuckled, low and filthy, and spread those long fingers, stretching me.
By the time he was done with prep, I was ready to beg, if my words hadn’t vanished in a whirl of need and hunger that kept me gasping and squirming.
Callum wiped his fingers on the towel, then I heard the slurp as he slicked his condom up.
He gripped my hip with one hand and his big, blunt cockhead pressed against me, sending prickling heat through my ass.
I breathed and bore down and took him in. It’d been a long time, too long. So good. I sank into the perfect, stretchy, achy fullness as Callum worked me open, rocking his hips against me, pushing ever deeper. I felt the tickle as his pubes brushed my ass and we groaned together.
“God, yeah.” Callum eased back, then slid home with enough force to make me grunt.
“Hard,” I begged. “Make me feel it.”
He didn’t ask if I was sure, just took hold of my hips in both hands and began fucking me, slow and deep and powerfully, each pull back a sparking drag inside me, each thrust an aching impact that stole my breath.
I arched under him, chasing more, chasing harder.
Sweat dripped down my nose and I panted, my mouth open, my eyes squeezed shut.
“Yeah, good, so good.” Callum paused, deep in me, and I whined.
“Shh, like this. Sit back on me.” He eased me up and into his lap, my legs straddled wide across his incredible thighs, his big dick impaling me.
“Can you come like this?” He moved a hand to my cock, stroking me dry while I whimpered and panted, writhing on him, grinding down against him.
“Or.” He fumbled, then his hand came back wet and slick with lube. “Better, yeah.”
The slurping squelch of his big hand pumping my dick echoed over my panting breaths.
My cock was on fire, my balls so hard they wanted to burst, my ass full, my prostate sparking under the pressure.
He flexed, driving up inside of me in short thrusts as he jacked me. Then he bit the side of my neck.
I screamed and came, climax exploding out of me in a white-hot release. Cum spurted between his fingers. My whole body shook so hard I almost fell over. Only Callum’s sudden grab, his arm an iron bar around my chest, kept me upright.
Callum muttered, “Fuck! I need… I need…”
“Go for it,” I gasped, still blind and shaking. Whatever he needed was fine.
He shoved me face down, then blanketed my back, sliding my knee up and driving back inside me. A few fast, hard shoves of his dick deeper in me than ever, then he groaned against my ear. I shivered, aftershocks racking me, as he slumped, pinning me to the bed with his weight.
In the sweaty aftermath, with my breath dry in my throat and my pulse still beating till I could feel each throb, the rest of the world didn’t exist. I was a lump of wrung-out, fading-sparkler, man-flesh, his heavy body sinking me into the mattress.
The smell of sweat and spunk filled my nose, the terrycloth cushioned my cheek.
I didn’t need to move. I didn’t need to think. I could just be.
Eventually, Callum murmured, “Fuck, yeah,” against my neck. He shifted and his weight came off my back. I could breathe easier, but I missed that immobilizing warmth. Then Callum reached down, and I felt his fingers brush my hole, no doubt holding the condom before he eased out of me.
The loss of him stung, but I didn’t make a sound.
It was nothing, a pinprick, to my blissed-out body.
I breathed through the tug and twinge and the ache that followed.
Part of the game. More than worth it, to feel like I was caught in warm syrup, every muscle so relaxed I couldn’t move if I wanted to.
The echoes of pleasure slowly faded, but I was happy.
Callum shifted around, cool air hitting my back and chest as he moved. Then he stretched out at my side.
I cracked one eye open and looked at him. His blue eyes were surprisingly close, peering at me.
“Good?” he asked.
I laughed at the absurdity of that question, then when his eyes clouded, I managed to move a finger to boop his nose. Affection welled inside me. “You know it was. You made me scream.”
He nipped at my fingertip, then rolled on his back, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m glad. That was, yeah, real good.” He brushed his hair off his damp forehead. “Although I feel like I need another shower.”
“Can if you want to.” I gestured toward the small en-suite bathroom. “The shower won’t fit two of us, but it’s yours.”
“Okay.” He lay still for a moment, then crunched to sit up, his abs rippling. “I should get moving. Might not shower, but I will wash up.”
“Go for it.” I would’ve liked to have lain there longer, clinging to the afterglow, but Callum was probably right. Jos might come home, and I needed to do laundry before I went onto night shifts, and there was no reason to hang about in bed in the middle of the afternoon.
Still, I let my cooked-noodle muscles have another few minutes, while Callum disappeared into the bathroom and the water ran in the sink. He came out fully dressed, and tossed me a wet facecloth. That was thoughtful, although the mess on my chest and ass would take more than one cloth to tame.
Callum paused by the bed, looking down at me.
“So.” He seemed a bit at a loss for words.
“Yeah. I’ll, uh, go downstairs and do stuff.
” He turned away, unlocked the door and slipped through, closing it behind him.
I heard his feet on the stairs, heard a hitch but no wooden groan so he’d stepped over the bad tread. Then he was gone.
Laundry waits for no man, especially with a kid in the house, but still I lay there, longer than I should’ve, my eyes closed and my face in the pillows, trying to recapture that moment of perfect contentment.