Chapter 15
“I don’t think this is a good idea, Ez.”
“You’re doubting my expertise?” He looks up from the small enema bottle he’s holding and glares at me. “Typical. I thought we were past this, Johnny? I thought we were done fighting each other.”
“I ain’t fighting with you, I just don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at you the same, once this is over.”
“Oh, please. That’s the biggest batch of balderdash I’ve ever heard,” he spits back, lubing the bottle’s long plastic tip with KY Jelly.
“The fuck is a balderdash?”
“Your mom is a balderdash.”
I just blink at him, because I don’t think she is. “My mom’s a farmer.”
He rolls his eyes. “Lie on the floor, roll on your side and spread your cheeks.” I clench my jaw and shake my head, because I don’t give a fuck what he says about me needing to be squeaky clean for Bubba.
What he’s suggesting ain’t happening. He ain’t putting that tube up my asshole and pumping me full of water like one of his damn cum balloons.
“Dammit, Jonathan. We’ve talked about this. ”
“The fuck we did! As soon as we got here, you grabbed me by the wrist and dragged my ass in the bathroom, kicking and screaming.”
“And now I’m going to get your ass squeaky clean-ing.” He bites the inside of his cheek and groans. “Ugh. Shut up. I know it wasn’t a good rhyme.”
“It wasn’t any type of rhyme. That word don’t go there. The sentence don’t even make sense.”
“Oh, because you’re an author all of a sudden?
Did you write the Great American Novel while we weren’t looking?
” He flings his hands in the air, sending a glob of KY Jelly flying out of one hand, and a large squirt of enema solution out the other, kicking his foot back for emphasis, but the fucker just ends up banging the cabinet and making the trailer rattle like thunder.
Gayest fuckin’ thunderstorm ever. “Prepping isn’t necessary, but would you rather Bubba pull out and have a mess to clean up? ”
“What kind of mess?”
“It’s an asshole. You know what comes out of it.”
Fuck. For some reason, that didn’t even cross my mind.
Cleaning my hole with an enema isn’t anything I’ve put much thought into, but now that Ezra’s explained the alternative, it makes all the sense in the world.
Bubba would never shame me for having an accident, but I would be embarassed as fuck, and I don’t know how long it would take me to be able to look either of them in the eye again.
“Fine. But you ain’t staying in here when it’s time.”
“I have no desire to watch you go to the bathroom.”
I arch an eyebrow at him. “You sure about that, Scat Boy?”
His eyes bulge. “I swear to fucking God. If you even think of changing my nickname to Scat Boy, I’ll burn you alive. I’m serious. Please don’t make that a thing. It makes me feel physically ill.”
I stroke his cheek, because he’s really fuckin’ cute this way. “Don’t worry. I like calling you Little Dick too much to change it now.”
He breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank God for that.” He motions for me to get on my knees, so I do, and he follows along, kneeling behind me.
His lips land lightly on my shoulder, and when I look back, he’s staring down at my ass.
“I’ll never get over this view.” His hand brushes against my cheek, and I shiver against him, earning a whispered, “Good boy.” When he spreads my cheeks, a cool blast of air conditioning hits my exposed hole, making me shudder. “Fuck.”
“What?”
He drags a finger across my hole, and I have to bite back the urge to moan. “It’s beautiful.”
“You really think so?”
“Yeah. Can I take a picture of it?”
I groan. “Do you have to?”
“Well, I suppose I don’t have to do anything, but I want to.”
“Why?”
“So I can jack off to it while you and Bubba are at work. I’ll need to get a picture of Bubba’s too. Spank bank material for days. Months, even.”
My breath catches in my chest. He wants to jack off while he looks at me.
It shouldn’t be so surprising, but it still takes me by surprise in the best way possible.
I give him a nod, and he reaches for his phone on the bathroom counter.
He pulls my cheek open a little wider, and his flash goes off, lighting up my darkest place.
“Have you done that before?” I ask him.
“Done what?”
“Jacked off while you think about me?” I know he jerks off thinking of Bubba, and I’m pretty sure he’s done it to me, too, but I want to hear it. I want to know he wants me just as much as I want him. “Because I have. I’ve thought about you a lot.”
“You have?” he asks, his voice small.
“More times than I care to admit.”
“Did you ever bust your load while you were watching me on OnlyFans?”
“No. I wanted to. God, Ez, sometimes I got so fuckin’ hard, it felt like it would break the fuck off. Because of you. Because of that pretty little cock of yours.”
“Jesus, Johnny,” he breathes, looking awestruck.
I twist my hips, showing him my big fuckin’ dick, grabbing onto the shaft and shaking that shit right at him.
“You’ve made this motherfucker throb so many times, Little Dick.
You’ve almost made me come without even touching it.
I don’t stroke it while I watch you, though. No matter how bad I want to.”
“Why?”
“It would be crossing a line. I already crossed so many of them, I couldn’t cross that one too. At first, I just wanted to find dirt on you. I wasn’t doing it for a thrill. I don’t want you to think of me as a creep.”
“I don’t. I wouldn’t.”
“I thought of you. Once I started feeling these feelings, I didn’t want to stop. I never came while I was looking at you, but I’ve busted the biggest loads of my life thinking about you.”
Color spreads through his cheeks, and he can’t keep the smile off his face.
He must be embarrassed, because he looks away from me, staring down at my ass.
“I’ve shot a few loads thinking about you too.
I’ve thought about your butt a lot.” He leans down and kisses each cheek.
“I thought about kissing it. Touching it. Slipping my fingers inside.” Slowly, he kisses his way up my spine, his mouth touching each knot, breath ghosting across my skin.
His lips touch my ear. “I’ve thought about fucking you, Johnny.
I’ve never fucked a man before because I was scared if I asked, someone might laugh at me and tell me I have no business pounding hungry holes. ”
I look over my shoulder at him. “Because you’ve got such a small dick?”
“Y–yeah,” he stutters, surprised by my bluntness. “Yeah. Because it’s small.” He leans a little closer, his lips connecting with my earlobe, and he takes it into his mouth, twirling his tongue around it. “I know it’s not as big as Bubba’s, but will you let me put it in you anyway?”
“Yeah. Yeah, baby. You can put it in me. I want you to.” The tip of the bottle touches my hole, startling me, but Ez is right here, just when I need him most, squeezing my shoulder.
Telling me everything is going to be okay.
Asking me to be his big, brave boy and take a deep breath.
I take the breath he’s asked me to, then I take the hand he has on my shoulder and guide it over my heart, letting him feel how fast it’s racing.
For him. His lips press gently against my shoulder, and everything else fades away.
His mouth lingers longer than it should, but that’s okay.
He can keep it there all day if he wants. “I’m scared, Ez.”
“I know,” he says softly. “You only lose your anal virginity once. I was a nervous wreck when I bottomed for the first time.” I look over my shoulder, because I know what Ezra had to do to survive on his own.
He don’t talk about it much, but he talks about it some, and each time, there’s this far-away look in his eyes that tells me I’m better off not pressing the subject.
I want to, though. I want to crack Ezra Edwards open like a history book and learn all his hidden parts.
The good, the bad, and the ugly. One day he’ll trust me with his truth.
Until then, I’ll settle for the scraps he provides.
“Okay, I’m going to push the water in. It’ll be uncomfortable, but it won’t hurt. ”
“Will you stay with me? Until it’s time for me to do the other part?”
“I’ll stay until you ask me to go,” he promises.
Once he’s filled me as full as I can get, he motions for me to rest on my side.
The sensation of fullness is strong, and there’s no denying it.
Ezra knows, because he’s even more gentle with me now than he was before.
He pulls the nozzle out of my hole, and lies beside me, stretching out on the floor, hooking an arm around my waist, holding me right against his chest the way I spoon him while we sleep sometimes.
It’s nice being held by someone so much smaller.
I love when Bubba cradles me, because it makes me feel protected.
With Ezra, it’s like he needs someone to hold onto just as much as I do.
Ezra rubs my stomach in these small, circular motions that make the hair on my arms stand on end, and making the sensation of fullness more bearable. “You don’t have to be scared. I’m going to be right there with you the whole time. I’ll hold your hand if you want me to.”
That’s exactly what I want. I want his hand in mine so fuckin’ bad.
“Are you going to clean yourself out once I’m done?”
“I did it this morning. I like to wash myself out once a week. A few years ago, I had a sugar daddy who turned me onto weekly colonics. Sadly, he shattered my heart—”
“I’ll kill him,” I growl.
Ezra kisses my neck. “Thank you, guard dog. He shattered my heart by dying, but I appreciate the devotion.”
I look back at him. “I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head. “Thank you. He was a good man. Most of them weren’t. Anyway, I liked feeling clean so regularly, so after he was gone and I couldn’t afford the sessions, I just started using these bad boys every week. Today happened to be the lucky day. Huzzah!”
“Huzzah? The fuck’s that mean?”