Until You

by TJ Klune

  But he understood what I meant. He always did. “Good.” He leaned forward and kissed me sweetly, and I might have whimpered a little into it, but hey. I was allowed. He pulled away and said, “Because in a little over three weeks, I’m going to marry the hell out of you.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Okay?”

  I shrugged because it really was as simple as that. “Okay.”

  “Good,” he said, looking relieved. “Thank God we got that out of the way. Now you might want to hold on to something because it’s time for sex face.”

  “I might want to hold on to what because of what!”

  But he was already on his knees in front of me, hands at the front of my slacks, palming my dick roughly. The sound I made at that point would not have been out of place during a rigorous mating between sea elephants. The back of my head hit the door with a loud thump.

  “What are you doing!” I whisper-shouted down at him.

  He shrugged. “I was gonna suck your dick a little bit.”

  “We’re at our place of business. There are people standing right outside the door.”

  “Better be quiet, then.”

  “You know that’s not possible. I can’t—and now you’re unbuckling my belt. Why are you unbuckling my belt?”

  He frowned up at me, licking his lips. “If you don’t know why, I must be doing this wrong. I’m trying to get at your penis. I can’t suck you off through your pants.” Then he looked forward, straight at my crotch. “Or can I?”

  And then he leaned forward, mouthing at my cock through my slacks. I was not proud of the squeak I made at the sight of him, mouth wide, the wet heat pressed against me. He scraped his teeth against the outline of my dick. I didn’t know what to do with my hands because I most certainly didn’t want to urge him on, but I really didn’t think he should stop, so I ended up putting them over my mouth as I attempted to keep all the noise at a minimum.

  “Yeah,” he said, sitting back, lips a little swollen. “I could totally do that. We’re gonna need to try that at home.”

  I glared down at him, hoping that it came off as we shouldn’t be doing this here, you bastard, and did I tell you to stop? Get back on that!

  Apparently, Vince Taylor was fluent in the Glares of Paul, because his hands came back up and unclasped my slacks, then pulled down the zipper as neat as you please.

  Now let’s be honest here: erections are ridiculous things. When men are aroused, it’s plainly evident, and there’s really nothing we can do about that. So there I stood in the supply closet at work, my penis out there and practically screaming, I FIND THIS VERY GOOD, PLEASE LOVE ME LONG TIME, and there wasn’t a single thing I could do about it.

  Well, there was. And there was also something Vince could be doing, but once he got my underwear hitched below my balls, he just sat there, staring up at me, a flushed look on his face.

  I dropped my hands and tried a different glare.

  Nothing doing.

  “Come on,” I said, thrusting my hips forward a little bit. “Do it.”

  He licked his lips.

  “Just a little bit,” I said. I leaned forward, aware of how ridiculous it was when my dick hit his cheek. “Come on. It’s right there.”

  He bit his bottom lip unfairly.

  “Vince,” I said plainly. “My penis is ready for consumption.”

  He squinted up at me.

  I sighed.

  “You know what I want,” he said, voice rough.

  And yeah, I did. If there was one thing I’d learned over the last couple of years, it was that Vince Taylor is a cock hound. He loved sucking dick. He could go for hours if I’d been able to last. And he always looked slightly disappointed when I couldn’t. I felt bad. Well. As bad as I could after having my brain sucked out through my dick.

  And while he usually topped, he liked to be manhandled a little bit while giving head. I found that I had little problem with that.

  It was heady, this feeling. I could doubt myself until the cows came home, but in a moment like this, when the man I loved was on his knees, waiting for me to fuck his face, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit powerful.

  So I did what any good person would do.

  I gripped my dick, smacked it against his face a few times, and told him to open his mouth.

  He did, because he was good like that.

  I fed him my cock, the heat of his mouth and the twist of his tongue causing my eyes to roll back in my head. He kept his hands in his lap, letting me control everything, trusting me to do it right. The thrusts of my hips were shallow at first, even though he really did have little to no gag reflex, something that he was quite proud of.

  And it was while I was deepening the thrusts, while I was getting really into that, no longer caring that I was doing this at work where we could get caught (nay! I told myself; maybe I wanted to get caught), that someone knocked on the door behind me.

  I froze.

  And since Vince was the absolute worst, he kept right on going, not waiting for me to move, instead working my cock over with his mouth, letting it pop obscenely from out between his lips, spit trailing down his chin, his cheeks blotchy, eyes dilated. He leaned forward and licked the underside until he got to my cockhead, which he sucked back into his mouth, cheeks hollowing.

  “Holy crispy corn,” I managed to say.

  The knock came again.

  “Who is it?” I said, sounding rather shriekish.

  “Um, it’s Mildred?” came the voice through the door.

  “There’s someone there,” I hissed down at Vince, who had a mouthful of Paul Auster.

  He didn’t seem like he minded. If anything, he redoubled his efforts, now using his hands, one tugging on my balls, the other rubbing up and down my spit-slicked shaft.

  He was a thing of evil, and I only had myself to blame.

  “Mildred!” I shouted. I then had to bite into the fleshy palm of my hand when Vince took me deep into his throat, nose pressed against my pubes, throat working around me. His eyes were watering, but he didn’t back off, breathing shallowly. He pulled back slowly, lips stretched wide.

  “Wow,” I breathed. “You are so fucking—Mildred! What do you want!”

  “I, um. Need a highlighter? For my—Paul, are you okay? It sounds like someone is slaughtering chickens in there. I know because my grandfather was a chicken farmer.”

  I yelped as Vince groaned around my dick. “No! No chickens! What the fuck, Mildred! Of course no one is slaughtering chickens. This is an insurance company, not the mind-scarring hell you grew up in.”

  “Right,” she said, as she tried the doorknob. “Paul, the door is locked.”

  Vince grinned up at me as my cock slid across his cheek when he went for my balls.

  “It’s locked because I get shy when I have to take inventory,” I blurted. “Oh sweat balls, yeah, right there. Oh fuck, baby, that’s—I mean, oh. God. Yes! I just love filling out this order invoice for the office. Oh, we need more paper clips. Damn, that’s so good. I’m gonna get those damn paperclips all over your face, you don’t even know.”

  “Excuse me?” Mildred asked.

  “Sorry, sorry! I just like… taking stock. Of things. You know how it is!”

  “Do you need any help in there? I also like taking stock. I’m really good at—”

  “Holy shit,” I groaned as he deep-throated me again. “Yeah, you get it. You just fucking get it.”

  “Thank you,” Mildred said through the door. “I do get it, don’t I? Oh, and thank you for telling me about the card! It was so thoughtful of you to ruin the surprise, especially since I don’t do well with surprises. I really liked how you just signed your name without even writing any other message. That was very… sweet.”

  “So sweet,” I said to Vince, grabbing the sides of his head, fingers digging into his scalp. His skin was flushed and he was nodding at me, letting me know what he wanted.

  So I just skull-fucked the shit out of him.r />
  “It was,” Mildred said. “And the cheesecake looks good.”

  “Damn good,” I grunted, feeling my dick hit the back of his throat. “Looks so good.”

  “It really does. I’m supposed to be on a diet, but it’s my birthday. I think I’m allowed to cheat.”

  “Gonna go in your mouth,” I warned Vince. “You’re gonna need to swallow it all.”

  “Oh,” Mildred said. “Don’t you worry about that! I’m perfectly capable of eating every last bite. It’s why I’m on a diet to begin with! You know, it’s a funny story, actually. Cheesecake happens to be my favorite food, so that’s why we have it today!”

  “Oh, I’m just gonna make you take it,” I moaned. “Take all of it, okay?” He tapped my thigh to let me know he was good to go.

  Mildred laughed. “You won’t have to make me take anything. You might even need to make me stop!”

  “Don’t stop. Holy shit, don’t stop.”

  “Oh well,” she said. “I suppose you’re right. I mean, if we don’t have the things that make us happy, what do we really have? Thank you, Paul. I think I needed to hear that today of all days.”

  “You ready to eat it?” I said roughly to Vince. “Gonna eat it all?”

  He nodded, cheeks wet.

  “So ready,” Mildred said. “Maybe I will eat it all. Oh, that’s so terrible of me, but it’s my cake, isn’t it? So what if my doctor said I’m one gram of sugar away from being diabetic and losing my foot. It’s my birthday.”

  “Yesssssss,” I said as I came in Vince’s mouth. “Oh fuck, yesssss. Do it, fucking do it.”

  His throat worked around me as he swallowed like a champ, only the smallest amount dribbling out around my dick and onto his chin.

  “Yes!” Mildred said. “I will do it. In fact, I’m going to go do it right now! Best. Birthday. Ever.”

  “Fuck,” I panted out, my dick sliding from Vince’s mouth. He looked wrecked, face wet, lips swollen. I leaned down and kissed him deeply, tasting myself on his tongue. He melted into the kiss, whining into my mouth.

  And so I did what any good fiancé would do: I unsnapped his slacks, reached in his underwear, gripped his dick, and jerked him off while he groaned against my tongue. It didn’t take long before he came, making a mess of his underwear and my hand.

  It took a few moments of us breathing heavily against each other, his forehead pressed against mine, eyes closed.

  Finally, he said, “I’m going to marry you, Paul Auster. I’m going to marry you and we’re going to live happily for the rest of our lives. You’re all I could ever want.”

  I sighed, not even trying to keep the smile off my face. “You’re so weird,” I muttered.

  He grinned at me as he opened his eyes. “Back at ya.” Then he grimaced. “Wow, coming in your pants does not feel good when it’s over. I’m gonna have to lose the underwear.”

  Because that was knowledge I needed. Knowing that Vince would be walking around the office commando for the rest of the day was going to make this the worst day ever.

  Vince chuckled.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked, pulling my hand out of his underwear, trying not to get jizz on his slacks.

  “It’s Wednesday,” he said.

  “Yeah?” I looked around, trying to find something to wipe my hand off on. There was nothing, so I shrugged and wiped it on the carpet.

  “Hump day,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at me. “And we just humped.”

  I stared at him.

  “Well, we did,” he said, pouting attractively.

  “I’m not even going to touch that one.”

  “Ha! Because you already did.”

  “Jesus fucking Christ.”

  And I absolutely stared at him when he undid his suspenders and dropped his slacks so he could step out of his underwear. I was a good fiancé, and I wanted to make sure he didn’t trip himself and fall. It had nothing to do with ogling his junk at all. Why, that would just be creepy.

  “You want to hold my underwear in your pocket for the rest of the day?” he asked me as he zipped his slacks back up while I did the same. “You can if you want.”

  I sputtered loudly at him.

  “Awesome,” he said, reaching over and shoving his jizzy underwear in my pocket before I could stop him. “Whoa, freeballing is hardcore. It’s like my bean and weenies are just all out and about.” He moved his hips a little. “I might have to do this more often.” He leered at me. He looked like a devious puppy. “All of the things more often.”

  “I have no idea what just happened,” I said to no one in particular.

  He grabbed me by the front of my shirt and pulled me in for another kiss. “I showed you one of the many, many reasons why I can’t wait to marry you,” he said against my lips. “It’s real, Paul. It’ll always be real.”

  And if I swooned a little at that, I don’t know that I could be blamed.

  And then came the furious banging on the door. “Paul,” Sandy hissed. “Paul!”

  Making sure we were both decent, I turned around and unlocked the door, pulling it open. Sandy stood on the other side, hand raised in a fist to knock again. “What?” I snapped at him.

  “What did you say to—holy shit it smells like porn.” His eyes widened. “I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” He glanced over my shoulder, and if it were possible, his eyes got even bigger. He looked like an anime princess. “Vince looks destroyed. What the hell did you do?”

  I shrugged, acting like the badass I was. “Gave him the ol’ what for.”

  “He has my come-soaked underwear in his pocket because we’re kinky bitches,” Vince said proudly.

  Even Sandy squeaked at that.

  “You told me to do this,” I reminded Sandy, not really surprised that my life had come to this point.

  “I never thought you actually would. I can’t even—no, I don’t want to even think about it. I’m still not over the incestual sex dream I had, and this is just adding to it. No, I came here for a reason.”

  “And that would be?”

  He was staring at Vince’s crotch. “Really not wearing any underwear?”

  Vince smiled. “When I move, it feels like I’m helicoptering my penis.”

  “This is nobody’s fault but my own,” I muttered.

  “How nice for you,” Sandy said.

  “Hey!” I barked. “Stop staring at his dick. You have your own homo jock.”

  “Right,” Sandy said, shaking his head as if he was trying to snap himself out of it. “Mildred. What did you say to Mildred?”

  “Why?” I asked. I looked over his shoulder to see people rushing by the storeroom. “And where is everybody going?”

  “That’s what I came here to tell you,” Sandy said. “She’s in there practically bathing in her cheesecake. I was trying to heat up my tea, and she came in the kitchen and told me it was her birthday and that you said she could do what she wanted, and she just face-planted right into the cake. Now she’s rubbing it all over herself and laughing and I think the cops are being called. And an ambulance, because diabetes is a very real and serious issue that must be controlled by proper medical professionals and medications.”

  “Huh,” I said. “So, I’m feeling sick. Probably should take the rest of the day off so I don’t infect anyone else.”

  “Oh,” Sandy said. “Me too. Cough. Cough cough. Ow. My scrotum.”

  We stared at Vince.

  He gave me a goofy grin. “I don’t know what we’re doing, but I’m just gonna roll with it because that’s what we do.”

  “God,” I said fiercely. “I love you so much.”

  “Back at you.”

  And I didn’t have a lot of doubts after that.

  Chapter Two: Daddy’s Got Some News

  March 5, 2016

  T-Minus 21 Days

  “WE’RE HEADING out,” Vince said, hands on the back of my chair as he leaned down and pressed his nose behind my ear. “Probably won’t be back for a few
hours.”

  “Sandy’s going to be a pain in your ass, just so you know,” I murmured, turning my face until my lips brushed his. “It’s embedded into his DNA to want to control the situation.”

  “Nah,” he said. “I got this. I just let him do whatever he wants and smile and nod and no one loses a testicle.”

  “Well played. I’ve taught you well. Also, I wish I’d thought about that when we went last week.”

  “God,” Kori Ellis said from her spot on the couch. “Between you two muttering sweet nothings to each other over there and Darren and Sandy practicing dentistry with their tongues in the kitchen, I am finding myself more disgusted than usual. I need to find someone who can be single and bitter with me so we can mock the shit out of all of you.”

  Vince turned and grinned at her. “You want me to come lay on top of you to make you feel better?”

  She glared at him. “That will not make me feel better.”

  He took a step toward her. “It makes Paul feel better when I lay on top of him.”

  “This much is true,” I said, frowning down at the paper in front of me filled with my chicken scratch. “It’s all about the smothering.”

  “I don’t want to be smothered by you, you beefy fuck,” Kori said. “You stay right there.”

  “Gonna lay on you,” Vince threatened.

  “Paul! Control your man-bitch.”

  “Eh,” I said. “Sometimes I let him do what he wants.”

  “Those are my favorite times,” Vince said.

  “Vince—”

  And then there was high-pitched shrieking, cursing, creative threats involving feet in asses, begrudging acceptance, and finally, silence.

  I called it the Five Stages of Loving Vince.

  I swiveled in my chair to see Kori lying flat on her back on the couch, homework scattered on the floor, Vince stretched out on top of her, his considerable bulk trapping her.

  “Shh,” Vince was saying, reaching up blindly to pet Kori’s face. “Shh.”

  “What the fuck,” Kori muttered but made no move to push him off. “Why are you the way you are?”

  “I am pretty special,” Vince agreed. “Paul tells me that all the time.”