CHAPTER 32 #2
It was a relief that Johnny was so nonchalant about it.
Most people weren’t. Before he changed his mind, Victor fumbled his way off the couch and practically sprinted into his bedroom to find the box jokingly labeled “BOX OF DICKS”.
He naturally chose his prosthetic because he spent way too much money on the thing not to use it now, though he didn’t really want to spend the time filling it up with fake jizz, so they’d have to fuck without that.
Victor had spent so much money on it for all its realistic features and appearance, but when it came down the moment to use it, all Victor wanted was something simple and foolproof.
The thing had a harness that fit nicely under briefs, but in Victor’s hurry, it didn’t go on easily. When he pushed the vibration button on the remote, he realized the thing wasn’t charged. Oh, just perfect.
“Erectile dysfunction,” he said aloud, then laughed. At least he couldn’t go limp, so if he couldn’t get off, Johnny certainly could. Just as Victor had readied himself and headed for the bedroom door, there was Johnny, standing in the threshold.
“Your mama ever told you not to make a woman wait?” Johnny joked, then looked down at Victor’s crotch. “Holy shit. That looks real.”
“That’s the point.”
“Can I touch it?”
“Knock yourself out.”
Johnny sidled up to him and reached out a hand to fondle Victor’s dick. “Damn. You woulda fooled me if you pulled this out and stuck it in me.” His gaze darted up to meet Victor’s. “Couldn’t pick somethin’ smaller, could ya?”
“If you only want a few inches, I think I have something smaller.”
“Nope. We’ll make this work.” Johnny yanked off his shirt and jeans in a series of hurried, fluid motions that left him naked.
There was a huge bruise across the side of his thigh that explained the limp, and Victor would have expressed sympathy if he weren’t desperate to fuck Johnny at the moment.
He didn’t want to give Johnny any reason to change his mind, and judging by the way Johnny hopped up onto the bed, that wasn’t going to be a problem.
Johnny wanted this, maybe even more than Victor did.
“Just be forewarned, I haven’t done this in a while. ”
“No worries.” Victor reached into his end table and pulled out a big bottle of lube. “We can go slow.”
Johnny eyed the lube for a second before sighing and flopping onto his back. “I’m impatient.”
Victor chuckled, climbing up onto the bed and straddling Johnny’s hips so that their cocks sat side by side.
The visual of Victor’s cock on Johnny’s stomach had Victor thinking of how deep seven inches was, which made his whole body feel hot and achy.
They’d go slow, and maybe Johnny couldn’t take all of him, but at some point he would, and it gave Victor something to look forward to.
Victor poured a generous amount of lube onto his hand, then grabbed both of their cocks to rub together. Johnny stroked Victor’s dick like he forgot that Victor couldn’t feel it. Victor would have liked that vibrator right now. For now, he’d just have to enjoy the visual.
Keeping one hand on Johnny’s length, Victor slid the other under Johnny’s balls and pushed a finger inside of him.
Johnny didn’t have much of a reaction until Victor found his prostate, which he proceeded to tease with two fingers.
Johnny clamped one of his hands over his mouth to keep himself from shamelessly moaning, so Victor released his dick to grasp Johnny’s wrist and yanked it down to the bed.
He bent down and gave Johnny a hard, toothy kiss that had Johnny wriggling underneath him.
“I want to hear you,” Victor murmured as he pulled away.
“Fuck, Vic. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Victor couldn’t keep himself from smirking a little before straightening and taking hold of Johnny’s dick again, stroking him slow while he slid another finger inside.
Maybe it had been a while, but Johnny was relaxed and turned on enough that that he didn’t seem to have much trouble with three fingers.
So Victor grabbed Johnny under each knee and shoved his legs up so that he had enough space to put his cock at his entrance.
“You ready?” Victor asked.
“Put that damn thing in,” Johnny grumbled.
Victor laughed, then complied. “Goddamn,” Johnny whined, body tensing as Victor slid the head inside.
Victor slowly jerked him off, to give him something else to focus on.
He went very slowly, paying close attention to Johnny’s voice and body, because seven inches was no joke.
Victor could have bought a smaller one but…
well, if you got to choose, why not go big?
The men he’d fucked over the years never complained.
Victor took his time, treasuring every moan and twist Johnny gave him.
At long last he was seated fully inside, and even if he didn’t have the vibrating function or the fluids, the sight of it was enough to take Victor close to the edge.
By now Johnny had a hand under each knee, keeping himself spread and accessible so that Victor could focus on fucking him good and deep.
Switching positions shouldn’t have felt that different from what they usually did, but there was something deeply validating and empowering about fucking sounds of out of this man that Victor had never heard before.
Johnny was tougher than Victor would ever be, but he trusted Victor with this vulnerability, and Victor was determined to make it the best decision he’d ever made.
As he felt Johnny nearing his peak, Victor used the hand not on Johnny’s cock to grasp the base of Johnny’s neck, applying just enough pressure to make its presence clear.
In response, Johnny came with a throaty shout, his grip under his knees turning his knuckles white.
Victor fucked him through it, only stopping when Johnny went limp and sucked in wet gasps of air.
When he pulled out, he unstrapped the harness and tossed it aside, desperate to find his own completion.
He was about to take care of it himself, but Johnny swallowed a few times and said, “Just sit on my face.”
Normally Victor may have argued or joked, but he was too horny to fight him on it.
So he climbed his way up Johnny’s body and framed Johnny’s head with both thighs.
Moments later, Johnny’s mouth was on Victor’s swollen cock (the real one), Johnny’s hands clutching the small of Victor’s waist to control the angle and pace.
His mouth wasn’t as eager or energized as usual, but Victor didn’t need much.
Maybe Victor’s fist was too tight in Johnny’s hair, or maybe his thrusting was too forceful, but Johnny’s muffled moaning seemed about as enthusiastic as ever.
Minutes later, Victor was coming so hard he nearly blacked out.
Thankfully he didn’t; he rolled off Johnny without suffocating him and they laid there panting in tandem, awash in serotonin.
“Well,” Victor muttered after a few minutes of silence, “was it as good for you as it was for me?”
Johnny snorted, then started laughing. “It was alright.”
Victor sat up and rolled over onto Johnny, running his hands over his hair before leaning down to kiss him. “I really liked fucking you.”
“Now I’m really gonna be sore tomorrow.”
“Better stay in bed all day then.” Victor giggled, kissing him again. “Wish we could stay in bed together, just fucking and talking and doing whatever else.”
“That sounds nice.” Johnny grasped a piece of Victor’s hair that had fallen over his forehead and pushed it aside.
Then his hand fell against Victor’s cheek, his thumb running over the beard fuzz on Victor’s upper lip.
His smile faded before he pulled Victor’s forehead against his.
“Been a while since I’ve felt this way about someone. ”
Victor’s heart stuttered before leaping forward. “Me, too.”
Johnny’s eyes met his, and Victor saw the love there, plain as day—hard to hide much in eyes that blue. But after a moment of silence, he sighed and sat up, forcing Victor to pull away.
“Mind if I stay the night?” Johnny asked, scratching his stomach.
“Of course not.”
Johnny nodded, and the moment was over.
* * *
Victor woke with a start in the shadows of the early morning. When he reached over to find Johnny, he found that side of the bed empty.
“Johnny?” Victor hissed. There was no response, so Victor reached out to turn on his bedside lamp.
As he squinted in the sudden light flooding the room, his suspicion was confirmed—Johnny’s side of the bed was empty.
Piper and Bailey were standing by the closed door and staring at it, which meant Johnny had probably left through it.
Victor got out of bed and headed down the aisle into the main living space. Once he was in the kitchen, he saw a pair of headlights glowing from the yard.
“?Qué mierda?” Victor muttered to himself before shoving his feet into a pair of boots and stepping out onto the porch.
Johnny’s truck wasn’t going anywhere, but the engine was idling.
So Victor descended the porch steps and walked down the driveway, hoping to God nothing bad had happened.
When he reached the cab of the truck, he saw Johnny’s head buried in arms perched on the steering wheel.
“What’s going on?” Victor asked through the open window, which startled Johnny into alertness. He blinked and turned to Victor.
“Oh. Sorry, I—I didn’t think you were up.”
“What are you doing?”
Johnny stared out the windshield for a full ten seconds of silence before sighing. “Just sittin’ and thinkin’.”
“In a running truck?”
Johnny didn’t reply, but Victor could sense his guilt and shame a mile away. Johnny was never that subtle.
“What is this about?” Victor asked.
“Wanted to get a drink,” Johnny said sheepishly. “But I guess it’s too late for anythin’ to be open.”
“Are you serious?”
Johnny nodded, rolling his lips together.
“It’s three in the morning,” Victor said.
“Yeah.”
“Aren’t you sober?”
“Yeah.”
More silence.