19. Adam
NINETEEN
Adam
Adam
I considered staying. Standing watch in the hallway or sleeping in my truck outside, but I couldn’t do that. It wasn’t my place, even if I wanted it to be. And I did want it. I craved a place beside Casey. I was starving for him.
Instead of guarding his apartment like a watchdog, I went back to my hotel for a cold shower.
Not even the icy water could dull my erection.
Just being near him and smelling his pheromones made me so hard, I could barely think.
I had to have him again. And again. Over and over.
No amount of time would be enough to slake this lust. I knew it the instant our lips touched.
This was no mere hunger. This was something else.
Something deeper. Untouchable. Uncontrollable.
Taking my cock in hand, I stroked myself form base to tip, roughly thrusting into my closed fist. My blood ran hot at the memory of him underneath me…
His soft mewls in my ear. His ass tightening around me just as he tipped over the edge.
He could never keep his eyes open when he came for me, my pretty Casey.
With every orgasm, his cock shooting between our bodies in that surge of bliss, the less coherent he became, until he was babbling out his pleasure for me.
The only words that slipped out were begging for more, or a soft whimper of my name.
Fucking him until the only thing left was my name on his lips, fuck, I wanted him here with me.
I needed him. My hand moved faster, stroking, sliding along my wet cock, the memory of his tight hole surging through my limbs.
It should be me in his bed. No one else.
He should wake up every morning with my cock in his ass.
He was so good at taking me. I’d make sure he knew just how good he was at taking every inch of my cock.
Grunting, I braced against the shower wall, my arm trembling as it held me upright. That’s it. I couldn’t hold it back. His scent. His body. His cock. And that sweet, wet ass. It was all mine.
With a deep, shuddering growl, my cock jerked in my hand and I came in thick ropes of cum, my thighs trembling with every rush of pleasure.
My cum shot onto the tiles and faucet, dripping down into the tub.
Wasted. My cum should be inside Casey, where it belonged.
Fuck, it had been so long since I came that hard.
I could control every orgasm, choosing when and where I came, but picturing Casey beneath me, his wet hole shuddering in climax, it was almost impossible to maintain that control.
My cock was still rock hard when I put on a robe and sat down on my hotel bed.
One orgasm was never enough for me. The wall I’d kept up for the past twenty years, the one that kept my libido tightly suppressed, had come crashing down in a single moment.
Now it was a raging forest fire, untamable and unstoppable.
I still had some measure of cognizance, enough to ignore my throbbing erection as I threw off my robe and got under the blankets before turning out the lights.
The pillow beside me looked so empty. Before, I used to think of Laura when I saw the empty space in my bed.
And now, after just two nights with him, I thought of Casey.
I had to keep it together, or this would end quicker than it started, and I didn’t want that.
It was torture trying to sleep after leaving a drunken Casey under someone else’s care, even my own son, but I managed to sleep just enough that I didn’t feel like drifting off every two seconds.
At a reasonable-ish hour, I got up, got dressed, and drove back to Casey’s apartment.
Something was bothering him, otherwise why would he have drunk so much?
He kept talking about how cute and sexy I was, and how much he wanted my lips on his lips, all at the risk of someone overhearing us outside the bar.
His friends knew I wasn’t Marshall. Something had to be wrong if he was willing to risk being exposed like that.
If Marshall was already at work, I could check on Casey without being seen. It probably would’ve been smarter to check my son’s schedule first, under the guise of eating breakfast together or something, but it didn’t even cross my mind until I knocked on the door and Marshall answered.
Damn it.
His eyebrows raised in surprise. “Dad. You’re still in town? Thought you were only staying for the weekend.”
My eyes darted over his shoulder and I tried to take a very non-obvious sniff of the air. Casey’s scent was there, but I couldn’t tell if it was residual from out here. “I uhh…” Make up something. Anything. “I haven’t finished what I came here for.” Close enough to the truth.
Marshall’s eyes narrowed, his hand firmly gripping the front door as if he was seconds away from slamming it in my face. “Oh, and what was that? Trying to poke into my life like you suddenly care?”
Harsh. He was angry. Still. Even though I was the one who should be upset over what happened.
“Marshall. Please. I’m not here to fight.
You’re right. I haven’t been the best at keeping up with your life.
I figured you wouldn’t want to talk, but that’s no excuse.
I should’ve reached out either way.” The tension in his shoulders eased, but he still had a slight glare in his eyes when he stepped back to let me inside.
“You resent me. I understand. I deserve it for making you feel pressured, even if it wasn’t my intent. ”
I could almost see the buffering circle above his head as he struggled to process what I’d said.
I was not only in his home, I was making amends.
Even before I met Casey, I wanted to fix things with my youngest son.
What I was doing behind his back was worse than what he pulled on me, though.
Maybe that knowledge was motivating me to finally clear the air between us.
Trying to focus on something other than where Casey was, I glanced around their apartment.
The furniture was a cluster of matching pieces and ones that didn’t look anything alike.
The random items didn’t feel like Marshall’s preference.
They had a warmth to them, something he never liked for his bedroom growing up.
A brown leather recliner, one chair at the dining table made of rustic wood, and an old brass lamp with an old-fashioned shade on it.
Amongst the clean lines and rustic feel, there were fake plants placed here and there in every room.
A big plastic Bird of Paradise in the corner.
A few hanging pots here and there with fake African Violets and Orchids.
And a lovely arrangement of plastic Lilies on the dining table.
Even though the plants were fake, they were nice quality and almost looked real.
My home had real plants, ones I carefully maintained to make them thrive.
I liked the thought of Marshall missing the green from home.
“Those yours?” I asked, gesturing towards the cluster of fake cactus plants beside the television.
“Nah,” he answered, a grin pulling at his lips. “Casey likes plants, but he can’t keep them alive. He brought a bunch of fake ones with him when we moved in together. He said it makes the space more cheerful.”
So they were all Casey’s. His curiosity about my sunroom made sense now. Did he like the plants in my home? He should have something real. Fake plants were beautiful too, but there was nothing like the smell of fresh soil, and the sweet scent of leaves.
“It does.” Clearing my throat, I pretended to be fascinated by the fake cactus collection. The little plastic flowers were colorful, cascading in shades of yellow, pink, and red. “Is he still passed out after last night? I know I would be.”
“He’s fine.”
Damn it. That wasn’t good enough. But he might suspect something if I kept pressing.
Before I could invite them both to breakfast, anything to see Casey with my own eyes to make sure he was okay, my phone buzzed with a phone call.
“Hey, Pops!” David’s voice came through the speaker as soon as I clicked accept. “You still at Marshall’s place?”
Glancing at him, I tapped the speaker button and tilted the phone towards my son so he could see who was on the line. “Yep. I was about to ask what he’s doing for breakfast.”
“I have work,” Marshall said.
David’s voice chimed in at the same moment. “He has work, Dad.” I rolled my eyes. Of course, they were teaming up on me. “How about dinner?”
And just like that, my plans for the day were decided for me, and Marshall practically shoved me out of the door on his way to work. I gave their apartment door one last look before following my son to the elevator.