Epilogue
I gently smooth the cream into his back and arse. He moans lazily, thrusting his bum up as I caress over the inflamed skin, then run my nails over it.
“Daaaady.”
The name is music to my ears. “What do you want, little one?”
I trail between his cheeks and tap his hole. He’s slick with my cum, but the dirty boy wants more.
He turns his head to face me, his body stretched out on the mattress, his legs parted. “You. I want you.”
“Such a greedy boy. I’m not sure we have time.”
We do, but I want him to beg. “And you’re sore.”
“Never too sore.”
“Open your legs some more.”
He splits them wide and cants his hips so his arse sticks up too. I drop the cream and spread his cheeks wide. “You’re already dripping. I’ll have to plug you if you want more.”
“God, yes.”
He groans.
I won’t need much lube, but I still slick up my cock. “Hold yourself open. Good boy. Now stay like this.”
I easily slip inside him and fuck him with long lazy strokes. I know the tempo will drive him crazy. He squeezes me hard, clenching my cock to make the drag so much tighter. I shift my legs outside his, push his legs together, and grip his arse.
“Oh god, yes. More,”
he chants, and soon I’m coming again. My fingers clutching his cheeks probably add more bruises as I fill him. I lean over him and press kisses to his back and shoulders. “Such a dirty little boy for Daddy.”
Thirty minutes later, we’re in a cab heading for the registry office and a wedding. Our wedding. Spencer has asked Nate to be his best man. Their relationship has gone from strength to strength. They work together at the LGBTQ centre, both of them qualifying as counsellors and therapists. Something I’m immensely proud of.
Charlotte is a lot of hard work, but we made it. She and Spencer get along. They’ll never be best friends, not like he and Nate are, but it’s enough for us.
We reach our destination, and I take Spencer’s hand. “Ready to do this, boy?”
Accepting Carl’s proposal was the easiest decision of my life, even if I was surprised by him asking. I hadn’t given marriage much thought, apart from thinking that Carl probably isn’t keen to repeat it. We’d simply never talked about it.
As we’re pronounced husbands, I can’t believe I ever thought I’d be okay with only ever being his partner. Not now I’m his husband. His kiss is sweet, but not chaste or quick. I swoon in his arms as our friends and family clap and cheer.
Who would have thought that a chance hook-up at the Pride festival would turn into this?
Into love.
Into marriage.
And a happily ever after.
The End