13. Walker #2
He’d planned to take them to school to toss out during an assembly, but they broke in his backpack on the school bus.
The bus had to be evacuated. The kids thought it was hilarious, but the bus driver and Arnaud’s parents, not so much.
We all laughed heartily, so maybe we were just boys at heart still?
I wasn’t sure, but I was sure that this small band of misfits was quickly becoming something very important to me.
As was Finn. How I was going to leave them when I went back to Broadway, I had no clue…
“Hey, stop picking up,” I called to Finn that night as he puttered around my apartment gathering up empty white boxes and water bottles.
“Come sit down here with me.” I patted the sofa.
He glanced around the messy living room, his hands filled with cartons.
“Come. Sit. I need a few kisses. Let Harper clean that up when she gets home.”
“That is so sexist,” Finn gasped, but he placed the takeout containers back on the coffee table before sitting down on me as opposed to the couch. A move that I was very much agreeable with.
“It’s also funny because Harper is a bigger slob than I could ever hope to be,” I informed him as my hands came to rest on his sides. “We’ll bicker over who has to clean the place this weekend, then we’ll just make a fast push through and call it good.”
“As long as someone cleans,” he said as his fingers threaded into my hair. His sweet little ass rested on my thighs. If I moved him up just an inch or two, his groin would be tight to my belly.
“Someone will. Eventually.” I nestled him closer and captured his mouth.
He opened quickly, eager for the kiss, his tongue curling around mine.
My grip tightened, keeping him in place as our cocks began to thicken.
“God, you feel good in my arms,” I panted when the kiss broke.
He nipped at my lower lip and got wiggly.
The rub of his dick against mine made me hiss in pleasure.
He wriggled around like a worm, sucking on my neck as he pulled at my shirt. I was fully into this bossy side of him, so I lifted my arms. Up and off my shirt went. The shy art teacher now looked down at my chest with a hunger that made him bold.
“You have a lot of hair,” he whispered as his thumbs flicked over my nipples, sending a jolt of 220-current to my balls. “I love that. Can I rub my face on you?”
“You can do whatever you want to me.” That got me a lusty smile. He began a slow slither to the floor, pausing to bury his nose into the dark curls on my chest. He sucked my nipples loudly, nibbled a path down to my joggers, and then lifted molten hazel eyes to me. “May I suck your cock?”
“Yeah, please.” What else did you say when the world’s sexiest man asked to gobble your prick?
I might not be the brightest bulb in the chandelier, but I wasn’t stupid either.
He freed my dick with a gentle tug of the strings holding my pants on my hips.
He wet his lips when he saw it, the head slick with precum and dark purple. “Like what you see?”
“Gorgeous.” I may have blushed. Yeah, I had a nice dick.
Not the biggest in the world but girthy enough to give anyone who sat on it a wild ride.
He placed his tongue on the underside and licked down to the root before laving a sloppy path back to my slit.
After that, he stretched his lips over the head.
Goddamn, he looked good with my dick in his mouth. Stuff of dreams.
“Oh shit,” I moaned, head falling back to the sofa when he took me down his throat.
The man knew how to fellate. I grabbed the throw pillows from the sofa.
Two ugly yellow things that Harper had picked up at a thrift shop over by the Seneca Park Zoo last week and squeezed them instead of his head.
I wasn’t a fan of people grabbing my head when I went down on them, so I liked to repay the favor.
His tongue swirled around my cockhead, over and over, as his hands massaged my thighs.
My balls were tight in no time. I really did not want to blow a nut so quickly, but it had been months since I’d gotten off with someone other than Patty Palm. “Finn… I’m so close… ”
He hummed around my dick, and that was all it took.
My balls tightened, and my ass left the sofa cushion.
His fingers bit into my thighs as he took every drop that pulsed out of me.
My back arched while my feet tried to find purchase on the carpet.
Winded as if I had done a bag skate with a hippo on my shoulders, I lay there spread out like a soggy noodle as he gave a few licks to clean the spunk from my dick.
Somehow, I managed to get my head up enough to look down at him: brown-green eyes glowing, chin shiny with spittle, and his lips dark red.
He wiped those glossy lips with the back of his hand. “You are so beautiful,” he said, his voice hoarse from having my cock down his throat. At that, something clicked inside my head. A lock that opened up a creaky door to a dismal, dank closet packed full of terrible crap.
“Men aren’t beautiful. Why do you say such stupid shit?
” It fell out of me with such speed it took us both aback.
Finn, resting on his heels, stared at me in shock.
Shit. Fuck . “Don’t say that kind of shit.
” I tucked my cock away and got up, moving awkwardly to clear his head with my leg, then I fumbled to my feet, my legs weak from that workout this morning.
“Walker… ” I shook my head. Fucking hell. Why did this shit pop out of my damn mouth at the worst fucking times? What the fuck was wrong with me?! I thunked my brow with the heel of my hand.
“I need some air.” I ripped my coat off the rack and was out the door before he was even properly on his feet.
The elevator was too slow. I bolted to the stairs and, then, out a side door, the wind off Lake Ontario greeting me like the wild banshee that she could be in the winter.
It nearly knocked me back into the complex, but I forged on, shoulder into the wind, nose running, eyes watering, wretched things bubbling inside my head.
Bad things. Things that I did not want to subject a kind, loving man like Finn to.
I walked and walked. Bitter cold gusts pushed against me until I reached the Rochester Harbor, where the Genesee River flowed into the great lake.
Commercial boats with rows of lights could be seen reflected on the lake’s choppy surface.
I turned my face into the wind to look at the marina, where hundreds of recreational boats could be found in warmer weather.
Most were off the lake now since the water did freeze.
There was no ice yet, so the big boats were all business as usual.
Hands in my pockets, I shivered as the light from the Charlotte-Genesee lighthouse helped to guide ships into the harbor. My phone lay on the end table, so it was just me and the spirits of the rumored ghost ships that sailed the great lake.
Finn would be worried. Maybe I should tell him.
Just spill all the shitty deets about my past. Tell him I was beaten as a child and let him decide if he was able to date a man with such a fucked-up head.
Or, and this was probably the best thing for all, I should just let him find someone who wasn’t a grade A basket case.
It would be for the best. For him, not for me obviously, but for him.
He was too good to be loving a man who was such a piece of shit.
I stood there for so long my feet and fingers had grown numb, and the first subtle shades of dawn were pinkening the sky.
Limping home, I crept into my place, seeing Harper’s coat on the rack, and Finn gone.
My cell lay dead on the end table. I plugged it in to charge, numb inside and out, and read over the dozen texts from Finn.
Each one filled with concern, apologies, and so much caring that I wanted to weep, but men didn’t cry. I fired off one reply to him.
Walker: I’m a fuckup. Can we meet tomorrow after school 2 talk? If U don’t want to I understand. ~ W
I dragged myself into the shower. There I stood under the hot flow until the stream began to cool, and then I made my way to bed.
I lay there and watched the sun fully rise, my toes still cold, and came to the conclusion that I needed to tell Finn the truth about my past. He had earned that at the very least. Truthfully, he had earned way more, but it was all I had to give him.