Bonus Chapter 2
Peter
My favourite part of the day was at night.
A total juxtaposition, but one I could easily explain.
During the day, I could mostly switch my persona off.
I was just a dentist in scrubs, and everything else simply slid off the surface.
I still got questioning looks. Some people were taken aback when they realised I was actually still good old boring Peter Fenton.
Others had known me for years and simply shrugged.
At night? I had to get myself together and actually be…me. Not the simplest of tasks because I’d suppressed who I was for a really long time.
I was also terribly out of practice with everything that came with being in a relationship with another person. I wasn’t brave anymore. I didn’t just…ugh.
“Hey,” he said softly. “You’re disappearing into your head again.”
“Big day.” I sighed.
Truth. Huge day. And I might just have made a complete tit out of myself, again.
“You did good,” he reassured me, pressing his chest to mine. Naked.
This was my favourite thing. Lying in bed, lights on low. Him in my arms.
Oliver. My little shit.
God, he was a little shit. The stuff he got up to, setting up a proper Saturday football league.
The way he hung out with the boys, the things he made me do, and next week I was apparently going to sit in with Dr Wilkes and be part of Oliver’s therapy session.
I wasn’t sure I was ready to deal with that.
He was back at work, just a few hours a day, which I had been a little nervous about, but now I didn’t think it had been a bad idea at all. Things had settled down and were…really good. I liked having him at home in the evenings. I revelled in knowing he’d be there, and that I didn’t have to…
I was still so angry, and I couldn’t quite make peace with that. I was angry at myself, angry at Mary, angry at the world and angry that nobody at the time had sat me down and given me a good stern telling-off. Because I had needed it back then. I still needed it now.
I had so much unresolved trauma; he was right about that. Things that triggered me badly. Things that perhaps one day I would overcome.
“Your speech today was epic,” he said quietly, just as much in his own head as I was. “The Q&A after was really fun too. I enjoyed it, and I’m not even a dentist.”
Peace. Calm. Just the two of us in a hotel room. The British Dentistry Convention. How my life had changed. And how, in a way? It had gone full circle. “You are so passionate when you speak. You should probably put yourself up for hire. Offer your services as a public speaker.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Was it…helpful? Getting all that off your chest?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I just wanted to…undo certain things and make them right. Just for me. In my head, kind of.”
“Like, how?”
“I never brought Mary with me for these things.” I shuffled on the bed. Holding him tighter. “I was always on my own, meeting other people’s partners at the social in the evening, and feeling like…”
“A spare part?”
“Yeah. I was married to this brilliant woman, and I mean. I couldn’t bring her because she was always working. And if I had, it would have become a spectacle. It wasn’t the done thing.”
“And?”
“Then…that year when I was…involved.”
“You don’t have to tell me.”
“I brought him. Hid him at the hotel, told him not to… It was shitty, really shitty.”
“I would have killed you.”
“He wanted to, trust me. I was so frightened. I was a mess, and he was fucking angry.”
“Understandable. I know.”
“I have learnt a lot since. I’m still growing into who I am. But at the time? I was so full of guilt and anger and blaming everyone and everything around me.”
“Well, your speech today was definitely growth. Practical recycling, saving the industry one day at a time?”
“That was…the idea.”
“Instead you kind of…”
“Went off track.”
“A little. Perhaps you slipped into talking about respect for your fellow human being. Dignity in the workplace. Recognition not equating to seeing fellow humans shag on TV. How everyday kindness can change people’s lives.
How to teach yourself to become a better human being.
I liked that part about introducing your partner, with normal words.
Not making anything dramatic, because it’s not. ”
“Sorry about pointing you out.”
“Wasn’t bad. People clapped.”
“Completely destroyed the point I was trying to make.”
“True, but you did get a standing ovation at the end. And your final words were beautiful. We all need to know what it feels like to love. But we also need to be loved.”
“It’s true, though?”
“It is.”
We had these conversations. Naked. It was heady how much I loved him in those moments. When his fingers would trace the outline of my arms. Down my chest. Comb through all that chest hair, draw lazy circles around my nipples.
“You’ve changed me,” he said quietly. “You’ve taught me so many things about myself. You should take credit for that too.”
“That is all you.”
“No. You’ve shown me that I am…lovable. That I have worth. That has been huge for me. Sounds stupid, but I needed someone to teach me that.”
Now he made me emotional, and unable to speak.
Instead I just watched him. Stroked his hair.
Held him. He was handsome. Sexy. Gorgeous and…
and my fingers would just do their own thing.
Squeeze his bum. I loved his arse. Just a handful each side, but they were firm, leading into thighs to die for.
The human form. Touching him was my favourite pastime.
“If I touch you, do you promise not to freeze up?” he asked.
I was aware of how I behaved on occasion. When things looked like they would cross that line. I would have lied if I hadn’t admitted I was nervous.
I nodded. I would forever struggle with saying no to him because when he smiled at me, I would give him anything he wanted. No questions asked. But also? I wanted him. I wanted him so badly. More than anything I had ever wanted in my life.
Patience. I had it. But also? Patience?
His fingers were stroking up and down my length under the covers. I was hard, of course I was. I usually chubbed up the minute he got into bed with me, and then he would ignore it and pretend it wasn’t there.
Sometimes, he would touch me, and I would feel guilty for even trying to pressurise him into a situation he wasn’t ready for, so yes, I would freeze up in shame and laugh it off and…in the name of total disclosure?
My balls were so blue that I thought I might actually die. Not a medical situation that would ever occur. People did not die from blue balls, but I hadn’t given myself…relief. Because it felt wrong. Because I wanted…
Fuck.
“Peter,” he said, surprisingly sternly. “You can get off, if you want to. I don’t mind. I’ll…give you a hand…if that’s okay.”
I thought I squeaked out some stupid noises.
“I think it would be…fine,” he whispered, like he was trying to talk himself into something he wasn’t ready for. And I was not having…
I never got to finish that sentence because he’d ripped the covers off and exposed me. Lying there with my…assets on display. My very…chubbed-up asset. And he was staring at it.
“I’m just going to do it because I really want to,” he said, sounding more confident to my terrified gasps. Because he was…doing…
His mouth was in my pubes. My bushy bits.
Small kissing noises as he moved around and my dick jerked and I was trying to sit myself up but couldn’t, since my hands were slipping on the silky hotel sheets we were splayed out on.
Stupid mattresses. Flat sheets. Nothing to keep me grounded and in place, and now I was trying to shift my hips further up the bed as he just sank onto his stomach.
His mouth…on my dick. Not new. Been here before, but this time it was him and my heart was in my throat. His hand landed heavily on my stomach, pressing down, like he was trying to hold me in place.
Keep me calm. Fuck.
Here was his mouth. His eyes closed as he slowly came up. Mouth hanging slack as he let…
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Yes. Okay.
He was laughing, right down there, his face painted with my cum. Wetness all over his cheeks as he howled, tears running down his face.
All of it.
“Oh, Peter.” He grinned. “How long have you been holding that load in?”
“Months,” I gritted out. Well. I was smiling. Him. Oh God. What had I done?
“I don’t think we’re going to have a problem.
” He laughed, jumping off the bed and then delivering another round of hysterical laughter over by the bathroom, inspecting himself in the mirror.
Him. Naked. His face a picture as he wiped himself down with a towel.
Then came over and wiped down my stomach.
Yes. There was stuff there too, and I was just lying there on my back like the fool I was.
“A problem?” I managed to get out.
“We’re not going to have a problem with sex. I mean…look at you.”
“I…got a little overexcited.”
“Yes, and I didn’t even get to suck you properly.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t you dare apologise.” He was still smiling, looking…happy. So very, very happy.
“You’re just…irresistible. And very, very…hot.”
“I know.” He winked and then sat himself back down next to me. His hand stroking up and down my chest again. “Now that we crossed that hurdle…do you think you have…more in you? Can you get hard again?”
“I’m old,” I said, before I could stop myself.
“You’re not. You’re also horny.”
Couldn’t deny that, especially since he now had my dick in a firm grip. Slow movements that were making me…react. I did…probably…most definitely…have more in me.
“If I…”
He was biting his bottom lip, and for a small moment, I just stared at him. Took him in. All that he was. That smooth chest. Long arms. His gorgeous cock framed by neatly trimmed darkness. He was just perfection. So handsome. Everything I wanted.