Chapter 15 #2
I sigh heavily and take a drink of my beer for fortification before I open my texts to Tucker. I’ve finally changed his name in my phone from T puppy guy, which seemed a bit childish after I started jerking off to him regularly.
Sebastian: Hey, hope it’s not too late to message. I’m sorry it’s been a while. I’ve been busy with practice and Enzo and stuff.
I read back over the message I sent and cringe. That’s not even halfway true, and I need to own my part in this.
Sebastian: Actually, I was staying away because I didn't know what to say to you or what our friendship looked like after finding out you’re gay.
It feels like something has changed, and I think it’s me.
I have a lot of questions. If you’re open to it, I’d love to talk and learn more about this side of you.
At least I was more honest in that message, even if I didn't mention how I’ve fantasized about him. I swallow another gulp of my beer as the minutes pass before my phone vibrates.
Tucker: Good to hear from you, and of course, we can talk anytime.
I’m happy to answer any questions you have.
This changes nothing between us. I can be friends with men without wanting anything from them sexually, so don’t worry about that.
I’m still here for you, my place is still open for you anytime you need it, and Enzo can play with the dogs whenever he wants.
Oh, wow, he just came right out and said what I was dancing around like a fucking child.
He’s obviously the more emotionally mature of the two of us, or he’s used to having these conversations, whereas I’ve never even considered the implications.
And I guess that rules out his wanting to do any of my dirty fantasies after all.
I sigh in resignation as I type out a reply.
Sebastian: Thank you, that means a lot to me. I hope you don't mind, I have a huge favor to ask, and I feel like the world’s biggest asshole for coming to you with it.
My phone rings with an incoming call from Tucker, and I hesitantly pick up. “Hello?”
“Just ask it already, Sebastian,” he says in his slow, quiet way that shows no sign of anger, and instantly puts me at ease.
I sigh into the phone, feeling like a bigger asshole because he sounds almost hopeful, and I’m about to ask him for a favor. “Enzo told his school he was bringing the Hydras’ puppy for show and tell tomorrow.”
“Hmm,” he hums with a slight chuckle. “That might be a bit tough.”
“No kidding.” I choke out on a laugh. “I asked McKenna if it would be possible to get him, but she said he’s in a training session and unavailable.”
“That’s correct. It’s an intensive first round. I sent him to a puppy handler in Buford for a few weeks. They specialize in crowd work and what the Hydras will need. He’ll be back soon and on a regular schedule here.”
“That’s what McKenna mentioned. What the fuck am I supposed to do? I can’t tell my kid he can’t have a dog for class when he’s already committed. I’ve been trying to teach him about follow-through. This is a prime example of not living up to your word if he doesn’t make it happen.”
“You’re in quite the pickle,” Tucker says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “If only you knew someone who had a bunch of puppies and could help.”
I groan, realizing how easy this could be. “Would it be possible to borrow another puppy for him to share? I can’t believe he springs this shit on me at bedtime out of the blue, and I’m left scrambling.” I rub my eyes as the heaviness of the situation settles on me.
“Yes, Sebastian. Send me the address of the school and the time. I’ll be there. Don't even worry about it.”
“Fuck, thank you! I could kiss you right now, I’m so happy,” I say quickly.
There’s an awkward silence on the phone after that, and I realize what I said.
“Oh, shit, sorry, is that unacceptable, and I shouldn’t say that kind of thing?
” I ask quickly. “I can do better, I swear. I just need to know the rules.” I chug the rest of my beer and feel the heat in my belly from the shots radiating out to my limbs, making me loose and more relaxed than I should be.
Which could be why I said the stupid thing in the first place.
Tucker clears his throat. “Maybe don't say that unless you actually want to kiss me, because it makes me think about it a little too much, and I’m trying to be a good friend here.”
So, he thinks about kissing me? What else does he think about?
“I probably shouldn’t tell you the body wash I got makes me think of you, then?” I ask, my voice scratchy as I share a bit of the truth. My cheeks heat with the idea that he could want to know more, and I might have to tell him. Do I want him to know? What would that even do for us?
“Depends on how you’re thinking about me, I guess,” he says slowly, the words taking on the thicker drawl I only notice when he’s emotional, or maybe it’s turned on.
It’s hard to decipher the context of our previous interactions and compare them to the present now that we’re both aware of his orientation.
“It’s not fit for polite company to hear,” I tell him, not sure how to approach this. I’m walking a fine line here, and I don't know what my endgame is.
“I never said I was polite,” he rumbles, the deep sound sending a shiver down my spine and making my cock take notice. It’s perking up, and I’m not even in the shower with the body wash as an excuse. It’s just Tucker’s voice and the idea of telling him how I’ve thought of him that’s doing it now.
That short reply is all it takes to push me over the edge.
I want to explore whatever these impulses are and see where they go, despite being so far out of my comfort zone, I need an entirely new map.
For some reason, I know if it spins out of my control, Tucker is the person who would be the safest to attempt this with and would be there to steer me back if I get lost.
“It’s the same scent as your beard products. From the same line,” I say, letting my voice drop low and slow, turning this into a story when it’s just an obscene sex fantasy I’ve had multiple times.
“I know it. I use the same one,” he says, voice matching my tone and cadence, without any hesitation. Okay, so he’s meeting me here without any reservations. It gives me the confidence to continue.
“The first time it made me think of you was last weekend, before I came over and stayed the night. I was in the shower, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders, but when I opened the bottle, all I could think of was smelling your beard, and then I was thinking of you and nothing else.”
“H-how were you thinking of me?” he asks with a shake to his voice that is so not like him. I wonder if he’s trembling.
“It was the first time my cock decided to get hard in months, and it was you I had on my mind. Your body wash on my skin. Your beard under my hand. You on your knees for me,” I manage to rasp out finally as I struggle to breathe through the anticipation and weight of this moment.
My armpits are sweating, and my heart is racing as I tread into unfamiliar territory.
Not only have I not spoken to someone like this in years, but it’s a man on the other end of the phone, and I like it.
He curses under his breath. “Sebastian,” he growls, warning clear in his tone when he’s able to speak again. “Don’t say another word unless you want me thinking of doing whatever it is you imagined.”
I shiver again at the command in his tone and realize why the dogs all do exactly what he says. He’s someone you obey without question.
“And if I want that?” I ask, barely recognizing my voice as the words leave my mouth.
Do I want that? My cock sure as fuck does. It’s pressing against the fabric of my gym shorts, begging to be let out of the confines of my boxer briefs.
He groans, the sound making my dick jump. “You’re a walking temptation, you know that?”
I smile at the sound of need in his voice and rub my palm over my trapped cock. “You want to know more, don't you?”
“Fuck yes,” he growls.
“Say please,” I demand, not sure why I’m toying with him.
“Please, Big Daddy,” he begs, voice low and needy, unlike anything I’ve heard from him before.
Holy shit, that does it. I put the phone on speaker, setting it on the pillow next to my head. I slide my shorts and boxers down, letting my cock spring out and hit my stomach so I can stroke it while I talk to him.
“Yeah, that’s it, beg for it, baby,” I groan, eager to share so I can hear him beg for more. “That first time, you were on your knees for me in the shower. You sucked my cock and took my balls in your mouth while you jacked me off with those big, rough hands.”
“Oh, fuuuuck,” he rasps. His breathing is heavy through the phone. It gives me the desire to continue in more detail.
“Your beard tickled, and your lips were soft. Goddamn, you knew exactly what I needed to have my knees shaking and having to hold on to you to keep from falling over. I came so hard and long I thought I was going to pass out,” I say in the same unrecognizable voice that is getting off on telling him about the fantasies he starred in.
I hear his breathing and the groan he lets out. “The first time?” he finally asks, sounding breathless and intrigued.
“Are you jacking off, Country Boy?” I ask, stroking myself harder, needing more punishment for wanting him to.
“How can I not when you sound like that and you’re saying those words,” he growls.
He lets out a needy sigh. “I swear I wasn't going to take it here. I could have kept us where it was safe. But if you want to tell me your fantasies and know I’m imagining your hand on my cock right now, who am I to object?”
“So you like it? You want more?” I ask, hearing the eagerness in my tone, knowing he’s getting off on this.
“Hell yes, I do. Are your hands busy over there, Big Daddy?”