Chapter Twenty
“Shit, Gannett, what the fuck do you feed this dog? His breath smells like the breakroom at a sewage treatment facility.” I mutter, batting Twinkie away from my face.
For a little dog, he sure is a power-licker, with an affinity for faces.
With a huff, the sassy puppy hops off the bed, crossing the room to settle back into his own.
Christ, waking up feeling this well rested, this content, is still so foreign to me. Foreign, yet addicting as fuck. It feels… like everything I was supposed to have in this life, but denied myself for far too long.
Gannett rolls over in bed, nuzzling in close. “I dunno. Something the chick at the pet store said would be good. It’s fuckin’ expensive, that’s all I know…” he murmurs, yawning.
I grimace. “Yours doesn’t smell that much better…”
He smirks, his eyes still buttoned shut. “Well, that’s on you. You know what I had in my mouth last night. Same thing you had in yours. Each other’s d—”
“Dicks, yes. I’m well aware, Wee-Waters. I was there.”
“You weren’t calling me Wee-Waters last night. In fact, I believe you had a lot to say on the contrary regarding Blackbeard’s size.” Blindly, he flicks my nipple with his tongue as the hand he had splayed over my chest starts to caress its way down my body.
“What are you doing, Gannett? The girls could wake up any minute…”
That’s another thing that’s fuckin’ wild.
The amount of time I’ve spent with his kiddos over their school break.
Hell, Taryn busted me wearing magenta nail polish the other day, compliments of Tatiana, and also sporting a bruised cheek from the elbow I took from Terra—which she was overly-apologetic over—when we got into an epic tickle fight.
Gannett slips his hand between my thighs, brushing against my already hard dick, as he cups my balls.
“The bedroom door is locked, and I’m looking for my own Easter goodies…
” Gently, he rolls them, sending a bolt of arousal through me that causes me to groan.
“Found a couple of cream eggs,” he snarks.
I pull back, grimacing at him. “You do realize that when you say shit like that, it has the opposite effect as what I’m sure you’re intending, right?”
His palm coasts up my cock, and he gives it a little squeeze. “Yet here you are, hard as a rock.”
I sigh. “Because you’re touching it…” I pump some of the lotion he keeps on the nightstand onto my hand, roll onto my side to face him, and reach over to mirror his movements. He arches into me with a slight whimper as I make that first swipe up his shaft.
Over the last three weeks, we’ve been stealing little moments like this quite often.
Because of our work schedules, he’s often asleep by the time I make my way over here after closing up Portside.
And because he’s been more involved with the girls, he hasn’t had time to make it to the gym with me after he gets back from work.
When he finally has a chance to settle down, I’m over at the pub…
something I’m working on rectifying with Taryn.
My plan is to have a work schedule more akin to Gannett’s by the time the sale of the pub is official, and I can begin the process of taking things over at Forge Fitness.
“Faster, harder,” Gannett pleads before taking my mouth in a hungry kiss, and so I pick up the pace—a gesture which he reciprocates, using my pre-cum to help mitigate the friction. Suddenly, he pulls back. “Hey, do you think we could try something?”
I instantly blanche, worried that he’s going to want to go all the way. Something I’m not sure I’m ready for yet. I just… don’t want to get hurt again. This is all too new, and I know if I went there, only to be let down again, it would be a major setback in my progress.
He shakes his head, obviously noting my hesitation. “I’m not—I don’t know if either you or I are ready for ass plundering yet. I just, well…”
“Spit it out, Gannett…”
“Docking. Can we try it?”
I blink at him, confused. As enthralled as I am to see him ask to try new things, and not hold back on me because of my past, I’ve never heard of that. “What the hell is docking?”
He sits up, rolling me onto my back. “Can I just… show you?”
“I guess…”
Nudging my thighs apart, he kneels between them and grabs my dick with one hand, his own in the other.
He scooches forward, draws back on my foreskin, and presses us together, tip-to-tip.
With a smooth glide of his hand, he rolls my foreskin over both our heads, encapsulating his cock inside mine. I shudder at the sensation.
Wow—this feels fuckin’ phenomenal.
“This okay?” he checks in with me, and I nod.
Encircling my foreskin with his finger and thumb, he holds it in place, using it like a sleeve to fuck into. “Fuckin’ hell,” he huffs, pistoning his hips, sweat beading on his brow. “I could get addicted to this.”
Same… because holy fuckin’ shit. Where my ex would always make it seem as though being uncut should be something to be embarrassed about, Gannett is treating the novelty as if he’s found treasure in Atlantis.
He wasn’t kidding when he’d said he’d done some research; he’s really embraced his bisexuality.
The more pre-cum that surges between us, the harder it is for him to maintain his grip, so I replace his hands with mine, that way he can lean forward, bearing his weight on his arms. That move allows him to pump harder, his hip flexors rippling behind the power.
“Yes, that’s it, Gannett,” I growl, my eyes locking onto his as he pants above me.
“C-can’t make a mess,” he puffs, rutting away. “Let me know when you’re c-close.”
“I am now,” I admit, because, fuck… the foreign feeling of him being inside me is really doing a number on my ability to last.
“Me too,” he huffs, suddenly pulling away, spinning his entire body around until his dick is right above my mouth, and resting his body weight on his gloriously textured forearms. “Give me your cum, Gordy, please,” he whines.
Shit, and he is definitely a cum glutton, for sure.
As soon as I take his cock into my mouth, he groans.
“Fuuuuck, Gordy, yes!” he hisses, before dipping his head, and sucking me in.
He teases me with the movement of his tongue, letting the tip of my dick explore the inner sanctum of that magical mouth of his, his head bobbing up and down so hard it causes his mussed up morning hair to flutter.
I’m so enamored by watching him go to town down there, that I almost forget that I have work to do myself. I reach up and gently cup his balls, tugging at them as my cheeks hollow out, suctioning around his massive—Blackbeard.
“Mmmph!” he grunts, warning me he’s about to come, but I could already tell he was close the minute his ministrations began to falter. His body tightens up above me, his dick thickens, and his balls draw in.
I’m not sure whose orgasm hits first, or if it happens at the exact same moment, all I know is that as my mouth starts to fill, I’m pulsing into his, matching him with every hot spurt I manage to swallow.
After I’ve milked every last drop from him, swallowing the load he just gave me, he lifts off of me, spinning back around. With a devilish closed-lipped smirk, he hovers his face just above mine, his thumb tugging at my chin. With my mouth open, he kisses me, slowly feeding me my own release.
When we finally break the kiss, he winks at me. “Figured, just for once, I wouldn’t be such a greedy cumslut.”
Fuck, I simply cannot put into words just how thankful I am that he doesn’t treat me like I’m some sort of wounded animal when it comes to exploring each other sexually.
I don’t even know if he realizes the level of empowerment he bestows upon me by not treating me like I’m broken every time we get each other off.
Each time we do, I feel myself tearing off little chunks of my own heart, presenting them to him as an offering—a gesture of appreciation for somehow knowing just how carefully he’ll treat those pieces, until they rebond anew, with bits of him woven within.
“You’re something else, I tell you what,” I murmur softly, fully intending to haul him back down under the covers, tangle myself back up in him, and maybe get a little more sleep.
That plan is cut all too short, however, when the squeals of two little girls are heard. “Daddy! Daddy! Come look at our Easter baskets!”
Gannett groans, scrubbing his palm down over his face. “Guess that’s our cue to put some clothes on.” He sits up on the edge of the bed. “C’mon, Twink. Croot’ll go rustle you up some sewage, bubba.”
Outwardly, I roll my eyes. Inwardly, however?
The stone wall I have around my heart cracks a little more, knowing that he keeps assigning me little tasks like this to make sure I don’t slip back off to my cave of loneliness to wallow in my insecurities.
I know I don’t deserve him, but I’ll keep these moments guarded like the treasure they are for as long as I can…
It’s been a hell of a crazy Easter Sunday around Gannett’s remodeled apartment. I had only ever seen it once before, briefly, and that was in the aftermath of the smoke and sprinkler damage. Now that I’ve practically been living here, I’ve seen what a home he’s turned it into.
Pictures of him with one or both of the twins are on every wall.
There’s evidence that it’s clean, yet lived in, everywhere.
Toys—both dog and kid varieties—are scattered in various nooks and crannies.
Groceries that don’t quite fit in his over-stuffed pantry are out on the counter.
More of Tati and Terra’s crayon art decorates the fridge, rather than the fresh paint on the walls—though I do know that Gannett has discovered just what is so magical about Magic Erasers.