Chapter 11
TD
Kimball drops me off out the front of the funeral parlor, and we're both still riding the post-game high. Sorry, did I say post-game high? I meant post-win high.
Admittedly, our opponents were in even worse shape than us, but a win's a win, and it's just the thing everyone needed to gain some much-needed confidence and will hopefully build some momentum for the rest of the season.
"Will you be in later?" he asks, and I nod.
"Yep. I'll come in after lunch to upload the film and start breaking it down. I'll see you in a few?"
"Sounds good. I want to get back to Bean, so I won't come up. Say hi to Tex for me."
I smile. "I will."
If all goes well, I'll be doing a lot more than that. I grab my duffel bag, and once Kimball drives away, race up the stairs like there’s a scout with a stopwatch waiting at the top. The visual of Tex getting off in front of me from our video call two nights ago is seared into my memory.
But I'm hungry for the real thing. No more screens, only flesh I can touch for myself.
I open the door, and Tex is at the kitchen counter, sipping coffee and reading the newspaper.
"Didn't think your generation still did that?" I tease.
"What?" He lifts his mug, frowning. "Drink coffee?"
"No. Read the newspaper."
He grins. "My generation does everything."
"I know. I saw some of it two nights ago." I stride across the floor. Tex shoots to his feet. My hands find his waist; his, the sides of my face. "That was so fucking hot."
A pink blush covers the tops of his ears. "It was wild," he agrees.
And then we kiss, the line between fantasy and reality drifting away with the press of our lips.
He moans, just like he did last night, and we ravish each other.
I become lost in him—his taste, his scent, the way his hands find me like he’s been waiting forever.
I don't know what any of this means, but I'm not thinking about the implications right now, because right now, all I want is—"Your room or mine? "
"Mine. I've got the queen," he replies.
"Good thinking."
He walks backward toward his room since I'm not willing or able to stop kissing him, undressing each other as we go. A few seconds later, we're fumbling into his room, down to our underwear and socks.
He pulls back and looks down. "Are you—are you wearing a jock strap?"
"I am."
He grabs my face and kisses me hard. "That is so fucking hot. I'm an ass man." His hands land on my cheeks, and then he fucking growls. "And it's slightly hairy. Have I died and gone to heaven?"
I chuckle then pause. "Wait. Does this mean—"
"Don't worry. I'm a bottom. One hundred percent. I just like eating ass… If that's okay?"
Can't say I've ever had someone eat my ass before, but there's something about the longing way Tex is looking at me that makes me want to do this with him.
"Of course."
His smile could light up Antarctica in the middle of winter. "Awesome."
We keep kissing as he guides me toward the bed. I sit down on the edge, and he drops to his knees, massaging my growing bulge before dipping down and taking me into his mouth through the material.
My head falls back, but I quickly snap it forward again, mesmerized by the movement below. Tex draws the jock pouch to the side and frees my cock, his mouth widening as the full length is revealed. "Holy shit," he mutters.
I stroke the side of his hair. "You like?"
He wets his lips. "No. I love."
And he spends the next ten minutes showing me just how much, lavishing my cock with attention and care, using his mouth and hands. "Would you, uh, mind lying down on the bed and lifting your legs in the air, please?"
"Sure."
I shuffle back, lie down, and hook my arms under my legs to keep them up. I don't have any expectations about what to expect but then—"Whoa!"
I peer down the left side of my body. Tex cocks his head, grinning. "You like?"
I shake my head. "No. I love."
"Good. Lie back, relax, and let me do my thing."
I do just that, lost for words as pleasure unlike anything I've ever experienced before washes over me. How is he able to do that? I close my eyes and surrender to the bliss, the sounds of Tex hungrily munching on my hole filling the room.
He adjusts how he's sitting, putting his mouth on double duty as he alternates between my ass and my cock, and I'm so aroused I could come any second now.
And it's much, much, much too soon for that.
I pull him off me, eager to repay the favor. "On your back," I instruct.
When he flips over, I keep his legs suspended with one hand and go to town on his ass. Now that I know firsthand how fucking good it feels, it spurs me on to fully make out with his tight pink hole. When I graze my stubble over it, his whole body shudders.
"Soooo good," he moans.
I keep going, sticking my whole face down there until I'm glazed in my own saliva and the manly scent of his most private area.
I spit on his hole a few times and begin easing my fingers into it. He's so tight at first that I worry he won't be able to take me, but after a few minutes of slowly building up, one finger at a time, his body relaxes.
I notice his hand moving, and a moment later, a bottle of lube appears.
"Multitasking," I observe with a grin. "I like it."
"Need you inside me now," he pleads, and the neediness in his voice makes me even harder.
"What about rubbers?" I ask.
He shakes his head. "I'm on PrEP."
"I haven't been with anyone since—" He looks at me and gives a small nod, letting me know he knows what I'm saying without me having to say it.
"Then we're all clear," he says, beaming with that incredible smile of his, and, man, I need to take a photo of that for when I'm old and senile.
I place his calves against the front of my shoulders and guide my dick toward his entrance. "Gonna go slow," I assure him.
He nods, his eyes brimming with so much trust it takes my breath away. I'd forgotten how it feels to be seen as worthy of someone's trust. I'm not going to disappoint him.
So, moving as slow as I can, I ease into him, inch by careful, measured inch so as not to hurt him. His breathing comes in short, sharp pants, and his hands reach out, bracing my sides.
"You okay?" I ask when I finally bottom out.
"Whoaaaaa. This is intense."
"Too much."
He grimaces, and I'm about to start pulling back when he says, "Just…enough. It's…it's…perfect."
I give him some time to adjust, and when he starts rocking against me his eyes flutter open, and his lips stretch out into a beautiful smile. "You're inside me."
I smile. "I know."
"This feels incredible."
"It does."
He reaches up and brushes his fingers over my cheek. "You're incredible, TD."
A lump swells at the base of my throat. I've had people think the worst of me for so long it's nice to receive a genuine compliment like that.
"Thaddeus Delbert."
His whole face bunches up in startled confusion, and he shakes his head. "Huh?"
"That's what TD stands for."
"Oh." He processes it for a moment. "Ohhhh."
"Please forget you ever heard that."
"If you want that to happen," he says, a cheeky grin curving his mouth. "You're going to have to fuck me so hard I don't remember."