Come down my throat like a good boy #2
“We are not done.” He grabs the other stool and drags it close, plopping down with a groan.
“Easy, old man,” I tease.
“Forty-five ain’t old.” He stares at me like really fucking stares me down. I hate when he does this. He has this intense but non-threatening look he gives that just turns you inside out, I swear. “Just tell me, quit bein’ a girl about it.”
I wave a finger over my breasts. “I am a girl and fine. Just… don’t say anything, okay?”
He clucks his tongue. “You think you gotta say that to me? I ain’t gonna go play telephone to Miller.”
I shake my head. “I know that, dummy. I meant keep your mouth shut as I tell you.”
He nods. “Fine.”
Glancing at the small window in the door, I don’t see Miller or Beau in the small area I do have eyes on, so I turn to Atti. Taking a breath, smoothing my palms up and down my thighs, I dive right in.
“We have an arrangement. I help him with his confidence with women; he helps me get my skills up to par as a mechanic for the apprentice exam. ”
Atticus raises a finger, stained with work.
“No questions,” I say to him, moving on with the story while I still have the damn confidence.
I can’t believe I fell in love. “So we’ve been swapping…
skills … for a few weeks now. Spending extra time together.
” I stop there because it’s clear where this is going, and Atticus might get under my skin, but he’s not going to force me to say it.
He blinks, eyes wide.
“You know,” I say.
“Yeah,” he breathes, “I do. But you need to say the words, Laney. And not for me, but for you.”
I shake my head. “Why do I need to say it out loud for me? Enlighten me, granddad.”
He narrows his eyes to slits. “I’ll let that slide due to your condition.”
“My condition?”
His grin is slow and treacherous, and I know I’m not going to like his response. “Panty-twist-itis.” He leans in, bringing his big annoying grin with him. “Miller’s the cure.”
When he pulls away, I shake my head, ready to argue, but he holds his finger up to me this time. “When you admit to someone else out loud that you’re in love, your mindset shifts.”
I swallow hard at his words because I am in love, and so is Atticus. If what he’s saying is true, maybe I’m not ready for a mindset shift. I’m stuck in some weird, beautiful, and torturous limbo as I am now, but taking action and change of any kind can be utterly terrifying.
“Why do I want a mindset shift?” I ask, my voice a crawling whisper.
He shrugs. “To really live.”
I look over my shoulder and out the window again. This time, like some cruel twist of fate where Atticus can witness it, Miller is there–and looking at me. He lifts a hand, a broad smile immediately enveloping his face.
My chest swells. A fire closes in around my heart. My throat constricts. I lift my hand and smile back.
I turn to face Atticus. “I’m in love with Miller.”
He smiles. “I knew that.”
I flop down on my chair. “Fuck.”
Atti leans close and whispers, “have you… done that?”
I shake my head. “Not yet.”
He pats my back as he rises. “Now let it marinate. You said it out loud. Shit’s gonna shift in your head; you watch.”
Before I can say fuck off or even thank you, he’s gone. I spend the rest of the workday with my EarPods in, a steamy male-male book taking the edge off my worried feelings.
With one sock on and the other between my gripping hands, my phone dings. Leaning over the screen as I put on the last sock, I read the message from Miller.
Miller
Just got home. Come over whenever. I’ll leave the front open in case I’m in the shower.
After work tonight, Miller and I were alone at Kings, where he showed me how to change a brake light, using my own car as an example.
Then, we walked through changing spark plugs together, and he even made a few notes in the margin of my The Mechanics Bible as he did.
I got giddy with excitement, knowing immediately that I’d photocopy the page and add it to his notebook, the one I was doctoring to give back to him as a gift .
Though no one was there but us, he was extremely professional. He grinned when I attempted to flirt but leaned in once, right away, and said, “this is your dream, so I’m taking it as seriously as I take my own.”
That meant a lot coming from a guy who walked away from his known existence to chase the unknown, betting on something he wasn’t sure existed. I’m so happy he found his freedom and that our paths have crossed.
I don’t want to imagine my life where I’m walking a path that doesn’t lead to him.
Now I'm showered and heading over. Art and Mara have given me shit endlessly about not making it home until morning. They knew where I was–I didn’t lie. They didn’t mind. Honestly, I think Art might be in love with Miller, too.
Mom stayed quiet but nabbed my wrist tonight when I came home from work and headed straight for the shower.
“Tell him I said thank you for the Christmas lights.” She lowered her voice, and her eyes went soft around the edges.
“Art’s been a little… blue lately. Doing something with someone who treated him as a capable equal was really good for him.
” She smiled softly. “So please pass him my thank yous.” Then she pulled me into her and hugged me tightly.
Pulling away, her softness had been replaced with a broad smile.
“Tell him he’s on the Christmas cookie list this year! ”
I grab my phone and type out a quick text.
Be over in fifteen.
My heart thumps like an idiot when the three dots dance.
:-*
Wow. Now a kissing emoji is making me horny. And kinda wet, if I’m being honest. Because I’m thinking of him and how he kisses me. How he kissed my nipple before he sucked it into his mouth, making my vision blur and my toes curl.
Grabbing my bag, I rush down the hall and scoop my coat off the back of the couch. With a pat to Mara’s head as she sits engrossed in her game of Animal Crossing on her Nintendo Switch, I breeze past mom and Art with a simple, “see you when I get home.”
“Tomorrow, then?” Mom asks, with no snark, as if she’s perfectly fine with me staying over at Miller’s. I’d like to think it’s her trust in me, but if it is, I’m definitely breaking it. Maybe it’s as much that she knows and likes Miller and likes him for me.
“Maybe,” I say, hoping that it’s definitely. But who knows? That happened organically last night. It was an intense orgasm for him, probably the most ever. He needed aftercare. He wanted to hold me. I think he needed me to hold him.
But tonight, I have different plans for us, and who knows what the aftercare will look like.
After I’m in my car and the heat is blasting, I take my phone out and scroll through our last messages, my cheeks burning. The way I want him has me thinking… crazy fucking things right now.
Like… I want to fuck him. Tonight.
But no. That’s jumping into a future that doesn’t belong to me. The warm spot between my thighs aches as I sit behind the wheel, staring at the first light I’ve stopped at. The intersection is dead. Not a car in sight. The singular light that hangs from a wire above the intersection flickers.
Red. Off. Red. Off. Red. Off.
Pulse. Pulse. Pulse .
My clit pulses right along with that red light, burning bright, then dipping into a moment of despair before seizing my whole body again in another red hot flash.
God, I need to touch myself. I am so horny for Miller that if I were to grind the center seam of my jeans even a little with these thin panties I’m wearing, and with how swollen my pussy is right now, I’d probably orgasm in under a minute.
His kissy face emoji had me thinking of his lips pressed to my clit, sending shocks of electricity down my legs. Would he moan as he kissed my pussy, or would he stay silent but eat me in long, deep strokes of his tongue? My cunt literally aches at the fantasy.
Red. Off. Red. Off. Pulse. Pulse.
I look down at my lap, where my thighs are flexing and releasing involuntarily as my pussy clenches, milking the invisible cock she wishes was filling her.
I can’t go over there like this. I’ll grind his thigh like a horny dog and cum in my panties right there.
Peering around the dark intersection once more before checking my mirrors, I pop open the button of my jeans and let my hand slide down my belly, delving under my clothes.
“ Ohh god ,” I drag out on a long, breathy moan as I sweep two of my fingers through my pussy, finding it swollen and slick. My body is literally preparing itself to be fucked by him. My panties are coated from how badly I want him pumping his cock and his load deep inside me.
I tug my tank top down, exposing my bare breast. The street light falls over me, casting light on my nipple. With my thumb and forefinger, I pinch it hard as I strum two fingers over my clit, hard and fast.
“Oh god, Miller,” I moan into my car, tipping my head back into the headrest. My pussy is so wet that I can hear my fingers spreading my lips open over the noise of the car heater.
“Touch me, Miller,” I moan, spreading my fingers further apart, making my clit cold and achy.
With my other hand, I squeeze my breast, rolling and pinching my nipples, imagining my fingers are his lips and teeth.
“Baby,” I pant, groggily peering around the intersection before checking my mirrors again. Thankfully, as my orgasm barrels through me, I’m still alone.
I stroke my clit through my orgasm, imagining his tongue writing the alphabet in my pussy, making me scream every fucking night.
“Yes, baby, yes,” I say as the tail end of it curls my toes, the very last heavy pulse making me shudder.
Shoulders sloping, I take a large breath and fumble with the window to crack it and let in some air.
I take my fingers from my pussy and hold them in the street light, finding them sticky.
Reaching into the glovebox, I find a package of Wet Ones and quickly tug one out, rolling my hands in the wipe. I can’t believe I just fingered myself in my car in public.