22. Nick
NICK
Sunlight pours through the blinds the next morning. In a few hours, I’m set to play a game of hockey, but the only way I’m getting out of this bed is via court order.
I’m nestled in Hank’s big arms, his broad, furry midsection warming my back. His cock is resting against my ass; mine is already hard as a cannon.
I pull the sheets up to my face and smell Hank on them. I am completely enveloped by him.
Last night’s a little fuzzy for me. I had more to drink than intended. But I remember the highlights. Making out with Hank. Calling him my boyfriend. Jerking each other off in this very bed. Feeling a deeper connection with another human than I’d ever experienced before.
When you find someone on your wavelength, it makes you realize how lonely you were before. How did I ever get through my busy life as a royal without Hank? Last night was the first time I didn’t feel like I was speaking in code.
I blink my eyes open and spot a trophy atop the dresser. I think we won that, too?
Fortunately, all that water I drank last night has minimized the hangover knocking around my head. It’s also made me desperate to urinate, a challenge when one is also at full mast.
I sneak out of bed, put on my boxer briefs, and creep into the bathroom. I wait for my erection to cool down so I can go to the bathroom.
Hank’s toiletries are tidily arranged around the bathroom sink. He has a toothbrush, a roll of toothpaste that’s been pressed flat in the middle, a comb, spring meadow-scented hand soap. Why is my heart swelling at his toiletries? Why is the sight of his toothbrush making me swoon?
Is this what falling in love feels like? Is it merely a low-grade obsession with every mundane detail of someone else’s life?
After I do my business, I exit the bathroom and find Hank sitting up, a sleepy smile on his lips, messy hair falling into his eyes. As I once overheard some American socialites say about Jonathan Bailey: damn, that man is a snack.
“Good morning,” he says with a half-awake growl.
“Good morning.”
“Someone’s in a good mood.” His eyes travel to my crotch, where my dick is pointing at him like an arrow. I cover it with my hands.
“Did you sleep well?” I ask.
“Oh yeah. I’m a little hungover, but not as bad as I was expecting.”
“Good call making us drink all that water.”
“You’re lucky you met me at forty-three and not twenty-three. Otherwise, we’d still be drinking.”
The thought of more alcohol makes my stomach turn.
“How’re you feeling?” he asks.
“Also doing well. Slight hangover, but nothing some ibuprofen can’t manage.” I keep drinking in the sight of him, his furry stomach hanging over the blanket. He holds himself with total confidence.
“You’re too far away.” Hank pats the empty space where I was lying. “I think he wants to get back in bed.”
Hank points at my erection, which refuses to abate in his presence. Embarrassment makes me cover it again.
I rejoin Hank in the warm bed, and he immediately pulls me to him for a morning kiss. Heat glistens in his eyes. I never want to leave this bed.
“Love kissing you,” I murmur.
“I see you’re back to your regular accent.” He kisses down my neck.
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t remember? You began speaking in a British-European-type accent.”
“I did that?” I laugh, then kiss him again while I think of an excuse. I get lost in the heat of Hank’s mouth, our tongues swirling around one another. “I was really drunk.”
“But not so drunk you don’t remember…” He motions between us.
“I definitely remember that. I remember this, too.” I grip his hardening cock, fat and heavy in my hand. Hank groans against my lips.
“You were so funny last night. You even said you were a crown prince.” Hank laughs against my lips.
“I’m a ridiculous drunk.” For a second, I think about telling him the truth. We’ve shared and bared so much already. I’ve never been so intimate with another person.
But I can’t do it. I’m too scared to open that can of worms. The truth will change everything. I want to stay cocooned with Hank in this moment.
Hank handles me with ease like his hockey stick, smoothing his hands down my back and turning me over so I’m lying on my back. He hovers over me.
“I don’t want to crush you,” he says. “I know I’m a bigger guy.”
“I want you to. I want to feel all of you.”
Hank lies right on top of me, smoothing hair away from my face. I spread my legs so he can rest in between them. His cock moves dangerously close to my opening. I remember that we have unused lube and condoms.
We kiss until my lips start to go numb. I caress his back and drift down to his big, hockey ass, round and firm like two large loafs of sourdough bread. I slide a finger in his crack.
“You’re a horny bastard.” He arches an eye at me, and I swear if he does that again, I’m going to come.
Hank’s gaze turns tender for a moment. Our eyes lock in, shutting out the world. The early sunlight gives them a honey glow.
“I’m so glad you came to Sourwood.” He gives me a soft kiss on the lips.
“Me, too.” I give him one back.
“Last night, we said we were boyfriends. I know we were drunk, but…do you still want to be my boyfriend?”
The earnestness quivering in his voice nearly breaks me. I worried I’d go my entire life without ever finding someone. I’ve never wanted anything more.
There’s just the problem of this one little lie between us. I swallow my shame down, not ready for the repercussions of telling him the truth. I want Hank to keep looking at me exactly the way he’s doing now. He wants to be with Nick from Baltimore, not Prince Nicholas.
“I do. Do you want to be mine?”
“Hell yeah.”
“Hank,” I cry out in utter relief, my soul lifting to such great heights. Our kisses turn heated, needy. He digs his fingers into the pale flesh of my thigh.
He moves lower, the air cold without him covering me. My dick aches for his imminent touch. He kisses down my stomach, through my pubic mound, until he licks a stripe up my ragingly hard cock.
He swirls his tongue around my head, lowering himself onto my dick. With his other hand, he reaches down to my opening and gently presses his thumb against the soft skin. For a man who’d only kissed one guy on New Year’s, he sure knows what he’s doing.
I watch his full face bob up and down on my dick. He licks his thumb and returns it to massage my hole. A lust-filled shudder racks my body from my hair to my toes.
“How is this?” he asks.
“Amazing,” I gasp out.
“I was worried it’d be difficult. It’s surprisingly easy. Much easier than going down on a woman.”
I let out a laugh. I silently scold myself, then think otherwise. It feels natural to share a laugh with Hank during sex.
He returns to stroking and sucking me. The light patches of scruff on his cheeks tingle against my inner thighs. I arch my back to get deeper in his mouth. Ecstasy washes over me as I hurtle toward climax.
“Hank, we have lube and condoms,” I say through heaving breaths.
He looks up, his mouth slicked with saliva, curious for me to finish that thought.
“If you keep going, I’m going to come. And I want to come with you inside me.”
Hank’s eyes bolt open with uncontrollable want, which is the same reaction I’m feeling to hearing my filthy request aloud.
“Holy shit. Yeah. Okay. Yeah, we can definitely do that.” He pushes himself off the bed and accidentally rolls smack onto the floor.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yep!” He hops up. “I will gladly fuck you until you come.”
Hank swipes the supplies from the nightstand. We didn’t use them last night, but we’re using them now.
“Wait—this is your first time, right? With a guy?” I ask him.
“Uh huh.” He turns red at the admission.
“Should there be more, I don’t know…pomp and circumstance?”
“The fact that I’m in my forties and only now having sex with a man deserves neither pomp nor circumstance. Best to get over the hump. Literally. And I want it to be with you.”
I sit up and kiss him deeply. I want everything to be with him.
Hank jumps onto the bed, making the mattress squeak. He throws my legs to my chest.
“Wait,” he says.
Wait isn’t something one wants to hear when their asshole is fully exposed.
“Something wrong?” I ask.
“No. I want to, uh, rim you. Are you okay with that?” He bites the corner of his lip, his thick eyebrows knitting together.
“Yes I am.”
“It’s something I’ve been curious about. And you have, well…a great ass.” Hank sinks down and flicks his tongue on my opening.
“Fuck.” I fist the comforter and emit a groan from the deepest part of my stomach.
His magic tongue slides around my hole as he slides a finger inside. Again, playing me like a brass instrument.
“Is this good?”
“Fuck! Don’t stop!”
He rubs circles on my ass cheek as his tongue and fingers to go work in coordinated fashion.
“God, you are so hot. My beautiful Nick.”
Two fingers enter me. The lust devours me whole, consuming me from the inside. I have never been this horny in my life.
“Is this—”
“Yes! It’s good! It’s really, really good!”
“Just checking.” He laughs, his hot breath tickling my hole.
“Don’t stop! Fuck, I love being gay!” I smack a hand over my face. Did I just say that?
Hank snorts a laugh, his hot breath making me shiver. I laugh, too, grateful to be doing this with Hank.
“You have a weird boyfriend,” I say.
“So do you.” He leans over and delivers me a quick kiss.
He coats my opening with lube. I hear him slide the condom on, then pour lube on his dick. My own dick twitches with anticipation. I imagine his thick cock sliding inside me. I loved how it felt in my mouth and in my hand. Now I’ll know how it feels in my ass.
“Let me know if this hurts. Please.”
“I will.”
He breaches my opening. I inhale a deep breath. It’s been a while since I had sex, so I’m expecting mild discomfort. I’m praying that it’s only a mild discomfort rather than an ache that makes us stop. The mild discomfort of walking in new shoes, and not the pain of getting a root canal.
Oh my God. I feel his thickness enter me, lighting up a whole motherboard of dormant sensations for me. I clench my eyes shut to grapple with all the newness.