CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
D mitri
Oskar’s mouth forms a perfect O of surprise, and I can’t resist kissing him. He can’t show me his mouth and not expect me to want to delve in there. No way.
He sweeps his arms around my neck, his arms tight, reminding me that he’s not a soft female. His body might be on the smaller end, but everything is compact firm muscle, and I feel safe in the tight grip of his hands.
I’ve been fucked.
I’ll always be a man who’s been fucked.
I smile at the ceiling, as if Oskar has drawn a happy face over my soul.
“Is important question,” I tell Oskar.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Lots of options.”
“I like the option where I can see your face.” I shrug. “Is good face. Works out for me. You have a good face too.”
And then I’m cupping my hands around his face, feeling his high cheekbones, and watching his blue eyes glitter. “If I could find a way to stay, I would.”
“I know.”
“For you,” I tell him.
“Don’t worry about my job,” he assures me. “I-I don’t care about it. It was worth it for me. Besides, I’m going to go to graduate school. It will be a few years until I’m back in the workforce”
I pull him toward me and ruffle his belly, my fingers playing along his narrow waist.
I don’t say anything.
I want him to be right.
With the internet, I’m not sure he is, but I know he knows that too.
My heart swells with wonder at this marvelous man who has become the center of my world.
He is amazing.
Utterly amazing.
He stares at me, and my world consists of the most gorgeous shade of blue and black irises and white sclera. How come no one lauds that color combination? It should be on every item of clothes, every furniture piece, everything.
But then I look at his blonde hair and his clear skin, lightly freckled, the dots visible only at a close distance like this and the pink of his cheeks and the deeper pink of his lips and I know that I am wrong.
“You’re smiling,” he says.
“Of course. You’re in my arms.”
He giggles and snuggles closer. Every moment with him feels precious now.
My cock stretches toward him, heat pulsing through my organ. It pokes into his stomach, and his lashes flutter when he feels it, and he moves closer to it.
“Careful. I might come before I’m inside you,” I warn.
He scrambles up, and I regret my words. Then he grabs another condom. I wait for him to hand it to me, like we’ve done before, but instead he tears the wrapper.
My eyes must widen, and maybe my jaw does a bit of dropping, because he says, “I can unwrap things.”
“My baby is so clever,” I say.
“Your baby went to Harvard,” he reminds me, and I grin because he’s acknowledging that he’s my baby.
He removes the condom, then places it on my shaft. I look down, but he’s applied it correctly, leaving the tip loose for the come that I know will come pouring out of me when I’m thrusting inside him.
Then he takes the lube and squirts some on his palm.
I cough noisily. “Excuse me. I can do that.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“I want your bottom up,” I say in my sternest voice.
“Seriously?”
“You gave me ideas, Oskar.” I shake my head, keeping my voice still strict.
His cock jerks.
“Someone’s into this,” I say.
“Maybe.”
“Can’t keep secrets about what you like when you have a cock like that.” I pat beside me on the bed, and in the next moment, he flips around, straddles my chest, then points that sweet ass straight into my face.
“Fuck.” I stare at his two globes. “You are so fucking beautiful, baby.”
I stretch his globes.
“That first night you moved in with me I should have stripped you naked and stared at your ass all night.”
His cock jerks, bobbing against my stomach.
“See, no secrets.”
He gives a weak laugh. I lube up my hand, then lube up his cock. I place his hand on it, then move his hand up and down. “Keep on jerking yourself, baby. I’m going to take care of you.”
Then I spread his cheeks and eye his hole.
It’s gorgeous and dark pink.
No one has seen this. I see parts of him that no one else in the world ever has. I am so incredibly lucky.
My heartbeat quickens, and I grab his cheeks with each hand, loving the feeling of his warm flesh. I squeeze his cheeks. If I ever thought I would miss boobs, this is a hell of a replacement.
I mean, women have asses too, but I’ve never paid them much attention.
So I considered myself pretty sexually adventurous.
I’ve had a lot of sex.
I mean, professional athletes tend to have a lot of sex, and I’ve always been on the high end.
Why have conversations in bars when you can be thrusting in and out of someone? My English wasn’t great when I arrived, it’s still not great, because hockey fills my days, not listening to lectures or something that uses words. I preferred inviting a woman to my bed and pretending that I wasn’t that alone. Pretending that I wasn’t on the other side of the world from everything that I knew. Pretending that I was utterly awesome.
The wondrous glances women shot me helped with the latter.
There was never a woman I wanted to spend more time with. I guess that makes me an F-boy, but I’m pretty sure they knew what they were getting into. Now I’m less certain. How could an act that feels so intimate and special with Oskar have ever been something that was almost routine with others?
The point is, I never rimmed anyone before. I never got rimmed. And if any of the women had strap-ons tucked with their bright silicon toys, they never told me.
I’m doing things with Oskar that I never did with anyone before.
I gaze again at Oskar’s puckered, wrinkled hole, then I lean toward it and lick it.
Oskar’s moan is instantaneous. He practically flies from my arms, tumbling onto my legs and toppling off the bed. I grab hold of his hips and bring him closer to me.
“Is good,” I say.
“So good,” Oskar says.
I lick him again.
And again.
And again.
I want to memorize his taste, his musky scent, the way he feels in my arms, and the soft moans that he emits. I want to memorize everything.