14. Anders
FOURTEEN
ANDERS
The moment Henry walks into the garage and out of view, I regret allowing him to come to work at all today.
He can’t drive, I could have turned off the alarm and still been in bed with him right now.
I could have him spread out beneath me, my dick fucking his perfect ass.
We could spend the day taking turns sucking each other off, but instead he’s hidden at work and beyond my reach for the next eleven hours.
Frustrated, I turn my car around and race off toward home, angry with myself for allowing him to have a job and for not locking him naked in my house where I could gorge myself on him and keep him needy and ready for me twenty-four hours a day.
Except even thinking that in my head makes me feel like a psycho. He isn’t my prisoner, and even though I might want to, I can’t isolate him just because the idea of anyone else having his attention makes me feel furious.
By the time I get home, I’ve narrowed my racing thoughts from locking him in a cage so I don’t have to share him to just dirty, sweaty fantasies. I imagine all the things I plan to do to him, all the ways I’m going to fuck him, and all the things I’m going to buy him.
He’s dressed in the clothes I bought him today. A pair of navy-blue slacks that hug his tiny, pert ass in the most delicious way, and a soft pale blue button-down with a knit sweater over the top.
Honestly, I’d love to see him in fitted jeans and a shirt tight enough to show off his narrow waist and flat stomach. But I’d rather buy him things he’ll be comfortable in, and the new stuff I got him is similar to the style of clothes I’m used to seeing him wear.
I didn’t choose his outfit for him this morning, but I did get us both matching pairs of white Calvin Klein briefs from the dresser.
After I pulled on my own pair, I crouched at his feet and helped him slip his pair up his legs, making sure that his semi-hard cock was positioned comfortably inside the cotton.
Seeing him in tight white briefs made my own cock weep, and if it wasn’t for my determination not to imprison him, he would probably still be impaled on my cock instead of starting his day at the garage right now.
Throwing my front door open, I stomp into my house, then slam it shut behind me. Curling my fist around my hard dick through my pants, I try to decide if I need to rub one out or if I want to save all of my cum to fuck it all into my boy later tonight.
Deciding I’d rather see my cream dripping out of his hole than in my fist, I inhale a sharp breath, then let it out slowly, loosening my grip on my dick and forcing my fingers to hang loose at my sides.
It takes me more than a dozen exhales, but eventually I feel calm enough to move, and I walk into the kitchen and pour myself a cup of coffee. Filling a mug, I add creamer, then take a seat on the couch, turning on the TV.
I decide to watch the same cop comedy show Henry chose the first time I brought him here, but just like then, the show doesn’t capture my attention, and instead I find myself scrolling through a sex toy website, picking out things for Henry.
I add several plugs to the basket, trying and failing not to imagine how he’d look with them peeking out between his cheeks.
I’ve never been with a guy who had quite as much of a sex drive as Henry seems to be discovering. I don’t know if that’s because sex and sexual intimacy are so new to him, but I wasn’t expecting him to be quite as excitable as he is.
I know he enjoyed his introduction to anal sex last night, and I’m more than looking forward to fucking him again.
But my need for sexual control has been heightened by Henry’s seemingly unending sexual desire, and I plan to introduce him to a little edging and some withheld gratification so he doesn’t expect to regularly get to come six or seven times a night.
Alongside the plugs, I select a cock ring and a couple of dildos to use on him. I know I’ll need to ease him into new sexual experiences, but I have a feeling that Henry and I are more sexually compatible than I could ever have hoped for.
By the time nine a.m. rolls around, I’m on edge and missing my Kitten.
I’ve never experienced this overwhelming need for another person before.
In my past relationships, I’ve never hoarded my partner’s time, and I was more than happy to spend time apart, with friends and family.
Even with Gabe, I never had a problem with him going out with his friends or doing things without me.
All I asked was that we have open communication.
Looking back, him being away from me must have bothered me more than I realized, because he said I stifled him and made him feel bad for wanting to see his friends.
Although I don’t ever remember feeling that way.
With Henry, I know I’m going to have to be on my guard not to oppress him. He’s only been at work for two hours, and I already want to call and text him to check he’s okay and remind him that he doesn’t get to touch himself, no matter how horny he’s feeling.
I should let him go home alone tonight, but I only have one more day off and then I’m on shift for four days. I refuse to allow him any space when our time together is so limited.
After adding some more bottles of lube and a vibrating prostate massager that I can control from an app on my cell to the sex toy basket, I check out, paying extra for rush delivery in the hopes that I might be able to use some of the new toys on him before I have to leave for work.
When I check the time, I huff, frustrated that it’s only nine thirty a.m. Glancing out of the window, I decide to mow my grass, hoping that some physical chores will help the time pass quicker.
They don’t.
I mow my yard, then Danny’s, and then Oz’s. Just when I’m considering doing the entire row of houses, Oz’s front door opens and he steps outside.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he asks.
“I’m mowing,” I growl, feeling like it’s pretty obvious what I’m doing, considering I’m pushing a lawnmower.
“I see that. Why are you mowing my grass?”
“Because I was doing mine, then I saw yours and Danny’s was getting long, so I decided to be a good neighbor and do it for you,” I snap.
Oz blinks, like he wants to snap back at me, then stops. “Do you know what’s going on with Danny and Parker?” he asks, shocking me with the sudden change of subject.
I shrug. “He likes her, she likes him, they’re both being stubborn.”
“He should just knock her up and marry her, it worked for me,” Oz says, like it’s the obvious answer to Danny and Parker’s stupidity.
“I’m not sure if forcing the girl to marry him, if that’s not what she wants, is the best idea,” I growl petulantly, even though I know that despite their past, Oz and his wife Etta are blissfully happy.
“Do you have something to say?” Oz growls, taking a step toward me, his face a mask of anger.
“No,” I sigh, scrubbing at my face with my hands.
“Etta and I love each other, we’re very happily fucking married. She’s having my baby.”
“I know,” I say, softening my tone. “I’m a little frustrated. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be taking it out on you. My bad, bro. Where is Etta? Is she still having bad morning sickness?”
“She’s at work,” Oz snarls, his expression clearly showing his distaste at his wife’s decision to go to work today.
I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from commiserating with him and telling him that I completely understand his anger and frustration. This is the perfect time to tell him about Henry. I could tell him that my boy being away from me feels like I’m being punished.
But I don’t say anything, and I honestly don’t know why. I know this man. I know he won’t care that I’m bi. I know he won’t care that I’ve fallen for a man, but I still stay quiet, not sure how to explain that I’ve kept part of myself hidden the entire time we’ve known each other.
Instead, I suggest we host an intervention for Danny and accompany Oz as he knocks on Danny’s door. When the conversation turns to Oz and Etta again and his frustration about her going to work, I can’t help smiling to myself.
“She’s pregnant. She doesn’t need to work. I can take care of my wife,” Oz growls.
“Caveman much.” I chuckle, wondering if this is how I sound to Henry.
“You wait till you find your woman, then tell me you like her working,” Oz snarks.
When my gaze clashes with Danny’s he raises an eyebrow tauntingly at me.
Sighing, I swallow thickly. “Or man,” I say, looking pointedly at Danny, before I turn and face Oz again.
“Fine, you wait till you find your man or woman, then you can decide if you still think I’m being a caveman,” Oz says without blinking at the suggestion that I might be interested in finding a man.
“And if it was a man?” I ask, needing to make sure he understands what I’m saying.
“Then it was a man,” he says with a shrug. “You’ll still be a caveman over him, just you wait.”
“Have you spoken to Henry?” Danny asks me with a smirk.
“Who’s Henry?” Oz asks, looking at me expectantly.
“He’s a temp working in the office at the garage,” Danny tells him before I can answer.
It dawns on me that I haven’t actually told anyone about Henry and me being together.
Danny knows that he’s mine, so do Penn and Beau, but I haven’t introduced him to my friends as my boy.
I haven’t walked down the street holding his hand and showing the world that he’s taken.
So far, I’ve kept our relationship hidden from the people who are important to me, and I don’t know why.
“He yours?” Oz asks me bluntly, and I form the word yes, but instead I tell him about the age gap and the reasons why we shouldn’t be together. I don’t say that he’s mine, and I don’t tell them that we’ve spent the last two nights sleeping cuddled in each other’s arms. I don’t say a word.