Chapter Twelve
“Lock door,” Rick said, but before Max could do anything, Rick twirled Max around so he was closer to the middle of the room and used his longest tentacle to trigger the door lock.
“Competitive sex would distract from your annoyingness,” Rick suggested.
Rick did have a weird kink for racing for the orgasm, although orgasm might be the wrong word.
If Max won the race and gave Rick enough pleasure, a slit would open on his reproductive tentacle.
If Rick won, Max would be left boneless in a puddle of his own sweat and semen. It sounded gross, but it was pretty damn hot. Still, Max liked to win, so he always put in his best effort.
Max pulled a tentacle, but before he could put his full weight behind his efforts, his husband counterattacked by pressing the tip of his tentacle against Max’s hole.
If Max didn’t get his pants off, he would lose another pair.
Rick’s enthusiasm was dangerous to fabric.
Max popped his button and pushed his pants down.
Rick slid back a few inches and slowly rotated so that Max felt trapped in his gaze.
“I’m not the annoying one in this marriage, so I approve of anything that reduces your annoyingness, and pulling tentacles with you is the opposite of annoying.” Max toed off his shoes and let his pants pool around his ankles.
“My annoyingness is not of concern.” Rick caught Max’s wrist and pulled him toward the round couch in the middle of the room. “Your annoyingness, while greater, is also not of concern. Pleasure is of concern. Great concern.”
Max couldn’t argue with that. Even when his husband was absolutely infuriating, Max couldn’t care when they had sex. “Don’t let me get in the way of pleasure.”
“You will not,” Rick said. His tentacles wrapped around Max’s upper thighs.
Max pulled his shirt off and threw it in the general direction of his pants.
He grabbed a red-tipped tentacle and tugged hard enough to tease, bracing one hand on Rick’s collar where his tentacles attached to his head to give him more leverage. Rick gave a happy shimmy.
Sex might not solve problems, but it sure put them on hold. Max ran his hands along the length of the tentacle he had captured, and the finger tentacles along the underside caught at him. Rick shivered and leaned closer, his hat-less head resting against Max’s cheek.
“Is your leg pullable?” Rick asked. It took Max a second to even remember that his leg had been broken this morning.
“Very pullable, although that’s not my most pullable tentacle,” Max said, his voice rough.
“Your most atypical tentacle of length is my favorite to pull,” Rick said. At least he wasn’t complimenting Max on the smallness of his penis. That was the sort of thing that made a man go to therapy.
“You’ll be too weak and worn to pull any tentacle by the time I’m done with you.
” Max pulled on the tentacle he’d captured–hard then gentle then hard and hard and gentle and firm.
Each time he changed the force he used, sliding from one motion to another to avoid the jerking action Rick found annoying.
All Rick’s tentacles shivered. Max knew how to drive his husband wild.
Rick blew raspberries. “I will cause opening in reproductive tentacle before you can.” However, he couldn’t get control over his shivering.
Max was feeling pretty good about his chances.
He parked his ass on the couch and pulled Rick close.
His skin was warm and smooth, and tentacles slid all over him.
A tentacle slid across his lips, the tiny fingers along the underside teasing the sensitive skin.
A tentacle rubbed his neck. A tentacle caught his thigh in a firm grip.
A tentacle wiggled against his perineum.
How had Max ever survived before finding a husband with a dozen limbs?
“I believe I shall win,” Rick said with a rumble. He curled a small tentacle around Max’s cock and tightened his hold. Max groaned and arched his back, which opened enough space under him for a tentacle to slip in his ass.
Oh no. Max would not surrender that easily. Max sucked a tentacle tip into his mouth and worked it with more force than he would dare with another human. At the same time, he strained to pull a thick tentacle as hard as he could.
Rick’s tentacles tightened around Max’s thighs, forcing them apart. Max’s recently broken leg twinged, but before Max could say anything, Rick’s touch gentled, and tentacle fingers teased along his sides.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Rick offered.
“I’m not breakable.”
Rick shifted so the bottom of his head was against Max’s knee and he blew bubbles against him. “Recent evidence proves you are breakable.”
“You’ve never hurt me, and you never would,” Max said with confidence. “I don’t want you to be scared that you might.”
“I will be more thoughtful as I drive you wild. I will be for you the best a man can get.”
Max groaned. He was too horny to deal with Rick’s strange obsession with American television. The tentacle in his ass wiggled, and Max’s cock ached with need. “You cheat,” Max gasped and a shiver traveled across his skin like a live electrical current racing across the surface.
“I get pleasure from cheating on my husband,” Rick confirmed.
“With, not on.”
“I am on my husband.” Rick leaned his weight into Max, pinning him to the couch.
“I don’t have the brain cells to explain, but you would never cheat on me. You have sex on me.”
“Sex on you, sex in you, sex with you. I enjoy many prepositions of sex.”
Max lost the will to object to Rick’s abuse of the English language when a second tentacle pressed into his hole, stretching the muscle until he was lost in a delicious burn and he tried to thrust up. It was hard with tentacles grabbing every part of him.
Max dug his heels into the ground and pushed up, lifting Rick a few inches, but Rick took advantage of the room to set a pounding rhythm of thrusts into Max’s body. Oh fuck. Max was losing this round.
Max gasped for air and writhed as every nerve ending fired, He was hot and cold and shivering and sweating and swearing. He grabbed at any tentacle he could reach and threw his head back with a rough cry.
Beyond caring about their competition, Max came all over himself, cum splattering across his stomach and a few of Rick’s tentacles.
“I win!” Rick trumpeted while Max sucked down air in huge gulps. Rick lifted Max, shifting him to the couch while retrieving his own tentacles.
“I didn’t get your slit to open.” Max traced the almost invisible line on Rick’s reproductive tentacle. On the good side, Rick always loved to cuddle after they finished, and he was a champion cuddler.
“That’s because I’m grrrrreat!” Rick crowed in triumph. He liked that catchphrase entirely too much.
“And so modest,” Max added.
“Thank you for appreciating my great modesty.”
The sarcasm had gone right over Rick’s head.
Max ran a hand along the closest tentacle.
It was well-muscled and strong and warm as it curled around him.
Rick leaned against Max’s shoulder, careful to keep his eyes from touching him.
He didn’t understand why Max didn’t like to touch Rick’s eyes, but he was respectful to keep his tough eyeballs to himself.
Max reconsidered his plan to manipulate his husband. “I know something is bothering you,” he said slowly.
The tentacles that had been slowly tracing circles against Max’s skin stilled.
“I won’t keep asking you, but if you want to talk, I will listen and I will always love you.”
“I am sorry you have Hidden one husband and not Unbalanced one husband who would speak with you,” Rick said in a sad voice.
Max snorted. “When I was a kid, I thought I would find my soulmate–someone who would match me like a jigsaw puzzle piece. Our hopes and needs and fears, I mean. Jigsaw puzzles are these pictures where–”
“I am educated in the existence of jigsaw puzzle. I am not ignorant of planet of my favorite husband.”
“I’m your only husband.”
“Favorite only husband. And poor match with Unbalanced one jigsaw piece.”
Max took a deep breath. “That’s the thing.
.. I was wrong about finding a match. Humans don’t naturally fit together.
Dee told me she hid her fears about being deployed because she knew it would make her husband worry more.
I bet if he found that out, he’d be hurt.
It’s like we have all these jagged edges and if we get too close to another human being, we hurt them, even if we don’t want to.
I’ve hurt my parents even though I love them dearly.
I am hurting them now by not going home when I could.
I don’t have a perfect match out there. There’s no jigsaw puzzle piece to fit me.
” Max lost his train of thought. He didn’t even know what he was trying to say anymore.
“I do not mean to hurt Max Husband with my jagged edges on my jigsaw piece.”
“I don’t think you can love someone without hurting them sometimes,” Max confessed.
“I think I hurt you by pushing you to talk, and I will try to stop. Sometimes I feel like I can fix any problem if I understand it, and I love you so much that I want to fix things for you. But you have a right to privacy and to work through your problems the way you need to.”
Rick didn’t have an answer for that, and Max lay on the couch running his fingers up and down the closest tentacles. Maybe Rick wasn’t a matching jigsaw piece, but he was the other half of Max’s heart. And if they hurt each other sometimes, they would have to learn to be more careful.
“I am a bad son,” Rick said after a long, long silence.
“Sometimes I am, too,” Max said. Then he bit his tongue to avoid asking a million questions because Rick was kind and smart and wonderful.
If his parent didn’t appreciate that, Max was happy to spend a lifetime telling Rick how special he was and how stupid his parent was.
They lay tangled in each other until Max was dozing in Rick’s embrace.