by V. L. Locey
“Let’s lose the pants.” I sucked hard on his neck as I played with his cock, the hard shaft fitting perfectly in the palm of my hand. “Yeah, we got to get rid of our pants,” I snarled then yanked my hand out of his shorts. I sat back on my heels and pulled his pants down. He lifted his ass up. His eyes hooded, his tongue darting out to wet his kiss-swollen lips. I got one leg off then the other, threw the pants over my head, and shucked my shorts as well. The next time I moved over him, there was more skin-to-skin contact.
“Please touch me,” he huffed, taking my hand and leading it to the hard bulge in his black boxer briefs. I dropped my head, my cheek resting against his, and pushed my hand into his briefs again. He arched up, his fingers locked on my wrist, and he made a sound that was a steamy combination of a moan and a mewl. A deep, throaty mating sound that sliced apart any kind of control I was trying to maintain. I covered his mouth with mine and began working his cock. He pumped into my hand as he grabbed at my shoulders and arms, his grip strong and bruising as he came so hard and so quickly it shocked me. The warm wetness coated my hand, giving me more slip and slide to continue jerking. Bran…ah man, he was beautiful under me as he found his release.
“You’re so pretty,” I said then bit down on his lower lip, just enough to make him whimper a bit. His dick continued to pulse and kick. I milked him until he was dry and breathless, his chest working like a bellows. I brought my hand to my mouth, gaze locked with his, and I sucked my index finger clean as I began rocking into him, jamming my cock into his hip bone, the sensation combined with the sweet taste of his spunk on my tongue made my nuts tighten up.
“Come on me,” he gasped then tried to pull down my briefs. One ass cheek was bared. I raised myself up, gave him room, and then let my hips settle back down. “Come on me. All over me.”
I did as he wanted. Face buried in his shoulder I blew apart, coating his hip. He clung to me tightly, whispering soft little things, touching me along the nape of my neck and my ears, gentle touches and words that enhanced the orgasm tenfold. I’d never experienced anything like it…the loving and soft way he stroked my flesh or spoke my name. Each whispered endearment brought on another shudder and spurt.
When it was over, finally, I melted into the bed, half of me dropping onto him, half resting on the mattress. My brow rested on his bicep. His left hand raked through my hair, lifting the damp hot pink strands from my forehead with soft tugs.
“Holy shit,” I panted then slithered off him, easing myself to the bed while trying to keep my brow on his arm. He moved to his side and placed a kiss to my shoulder, right above the blue rose on my upper bicep. “Christ, I love hot frot.”
“That was incredible. Perfect. Just perfect.” He continued kissing my shoulder then moved up my neck to my ear which made me snigger and snort. “Thank you.”
“Mm.” I rolled to face him. Fuck he was magnificent in this muted bedroom lighting with the lingering effects of passion still on his face. Soft and relaxed, his eyes glowing, his lips puffy and pink. “Don’t ever thank me for pleasing you. It’s a greedy gift, you know? I give you pleasure because it brings me pleasure.” I pressed my mouth to his. “You in a hurry to go?”
“Are you in a hurry for me to leave?”
“Nope.” I pushed my fingers into his hair, enjoying the crisp feel of it. I moved over him, nudging him to his back, my weight settling on him as my nails slid over his scalp. “I’m all about keeping you here as long as I can.”
His reply was to cradle my ass with his hands and lift his mouth to mine. Lucky me. I got to keep him in my bed all night—and wring another orgasm out of him—for most of it. I woke up around five forty-five needing to piss and rolled over to find the other side of the bed empty. Touching the soft dip in the mattress, I could feel body heat trapped in the wrinkled sheets. So he’d not been up for too long. I kicked off the covers, took off my dirty underwear, found a clean pair in the dresser, and went in search of Bran. He was silhouetted by a creeping dawn that was turning the sky a color similar to my hair.
He looked over his shoulder when I stepped up behind him. I wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing my pelvis into his high, tight ass. Pity he’d pulled on his underwear. I’d have liked to have had nothing but one thin layer of cotton between my cock and his rump. None would be better. I’d not gotten his ass yet. I’d been tender and kind last night, but fuck did I want it. I claimed a kiss then rested my chin on his bare shoulder, my eyes slipping closed as I held him.
“I woke up ten minutes ago to this odd sound,” he said, his words vibrating from him into me we were that close. It was delicious having him pressed so tightly to me. “Like a rapid-fire gun, a sort of crazed rapping. You were snoring. I tried to go back to sleep but the tapping didn’t stop so I pulled on my pants and came to investigate. There are two seagulls on your patio demanding to be let in. Should I?”
I sniggered. “That’s Gilbert and Gottfried. They’re my buddies but they have to stay outside. They shit on everything.”
My right hand began to slide downward. He didn’t stop my wandering fingers. “You’ve named them Gilbert and Gottfried?”
“Listen to them and tell me that those names don’t fit.”
I reached out with my left hand and rapped the glass. The two gulls began screeching and head bobbing as they walked over my patio table, dropping gull packages as they went.
“Okay, yes, I see why they’re named that,” he replied with warm humor.
I wiggled my fingers under the elastic band of his underwear. His cock was stirring to life. I took his semi-hard dick in my hand and began stroking it into hardness.
“I need to tell you something,” he said while I feasted on his neck. “Last night…God, Nate, oh God I just…I can’t think.”
“Think later. Feel now.” He was fully erect now, his length hot and hard, ready for sex. “I want you…”
Didn’t matter I’d had him twice last night, I wanted him again. His cock in my mouth, mine in his, my fingers pumping in and out of his ass as he filled my mouth with spunk. Or even better, him on his back, his legs on my shoulders, my dick buried in his tight, hot hole.
“Nate, I…this is, God it’s so…” He began to stiffen in my arms. “Please, I can’t do anything more with you until I get this off my chest. It woke me up…the guilt.”
I stopped pawing the man and simply held him, one arm around his middle, the other fisted around his prick. I was not letting go of that fat cock unless he made me.
“Okay, talk then.” My lips hovered beside his ear. His shoulders drew upward. I nudged the right one down with my chin. “Just say it and we’ll get back to messing around.”
His exhalation was large. “Last night,” he began then faltered for a moment. I rubbed his flat stomach, a sign for him to go on and that all was well. “Last night I didn’t want you in my bed because it was the same bed that I shared with Jim and taking you into our special space felt wrong and dirty, and I’m sorry I did that because…” he drew in some air, which was good because he might have passed out otherwise, “…I care for you. A lot. I’m just so…ugh, what is wrong with me?! I have this beautiful young man craving me, and I push him away time and again!”
His head fell forward, his brow connecting with the sliding door. The gulls flapped down to the patio and began rapping on the glass again. Pushy bastards.
“Okay, first off, I’m right here behind you. You feel me?” I squeezed hard, his middle and his cock. He groaned and nodded. “Right, so all that pushing doesn’t seem to be working now does it?”
“No, I guess not but I…” I pressed a soft kiss to his neck, right under his ear. Rough bristles rubbed against my lips, new whiskers. God, I loved the feel of new whiskers against my lips. Or anywhere else. “I can’t get over it…the loss. I should have by now. It’s been two years.”
“Bran, man, cut yourself some slack. I’d say you’re doing pretty good. You’re standing here nearly naked with your dick in my hand.” I g
ave the meaty cock a shake. “You came to my bed last night. It takes time to grieve. There’s no right or wrong way.”
“Maybe I should go back to grief counseling…” His brow left the glass, and his weight settled back onto me. I was happy to feel him easing back into my arms. I dropped his cock and pulled my hand free of his briefs, my fingers digging into his hip bone. “I just needed to tell you that so that you knew where I was. I want to be with you…be intimate with you…I just don’t know if I can—”
“Then we do it here until you feel ready to move onto things in your house. Seriously, I am in awe of how far you’ve come since we met.”
“You’re hard to resist,” he whispered, reaching back to card his fingers into my hair. “Thank you for being so understanding. Last night was…it was not what I expected and yet it was exactly what I expected. I’m not making any sense.” He tugged on my hair, pulling my mouth to his. The over-the-shoulder kiss was loud and sloppy but frigging perfect.
“God you make me nuts.” I ground my cock into his ass, my grip on his hips tightening. “Someday maybe you can sell that bed and get a new one. We’ll break it in, make it ours. How does that sound?”
“Yes, I think…yes that sounds good.” He began to soften in my arms, the tension leaving his muscles. Taking him back to bed was my top priority, but he had other plans. Like work. And showering and going home to change. I hated letting him go but life called. I walked him to the front door ten minutes and four stale slices of bread fed to pushy gulls later.
“I’m not scheduled until tomorrow so I’ll see you then.” My hand curled around his neck. I slanted my mouth over his, licking in deep before letting him go. “Unless you want to come over tonight and hang out?”
“I’m beginning to think that you’re hanging out and my hanging out mean different things. Let me check on my aunt and uncle and see what the day holds. Can I call you later?”
“Text me, sure. I’ll be on the ice today then class and group later.”
“I’m proud of you for sticking with your meetings and classes.” He stole a soft kiss then slipped out into the hall, my neighbors across the hall talking as they got ready to leave for work seeping through their front door.
“Got no choice. The judge who sentenced me is…” One sleek eyebrow climbed up his forehead. “A real sweetheart of a guy.”
“Even I’d not go that far.” He chuckled, ran the backs of his fingers along the owl on my stomach and began moving away. “I’ll text and come over.”
“You want to lick my owl, don’t you?” I asked, tugging on the top of my underwear to let him see the clump of dark pubic hair. His gaze drifted downward. My neighbor opened her door. I jerked my shorts up, eyes round, and danced to the side to hide behind my door.
“Nice ink,” the slim brunette said with a wink. Her roommate gave me an eye roll then stalked off with her nose in the air.
“And on that note…” Bran laughed. “I’m going to get to work. I’m already late.”
“Yeah, later. Oh, wait.” I ran out into the hall and kissed him into the wall then released him so he could ride down with the girls across the hall. “Text me. Tonight. Come lick my owl.”
He stammered and blushed as the girls yelled at him to get moving. He ran for the elevator, stepped inside, and then spun to look at me as the doors slid shut. I padded back into my apartment, giggling at the look of sheer horror on Bran’s face as the doors closed and my neighbors began chattering at him like a couple of hungry seagulls.
Chapter Nine
Bran came back that night. He licked my owl and every other bit of ink not hidden in my briefs. The man had a serious hard-on for tattoo work and the men who had them. He came over every night for two weeks, sometimes bringing food, sometimes not. The Blue Button Café became “our place” if you can fucking imagine. We even called it that. “Meet you at seven at our place?” or “I’ll grab some chili dogs and tots at our place and bring them up”. How gummy bear cute was that? I’d have gagged had it been some other couple.
We’d not gone past grinding and jerking each other off yet, and tat tonguing, of course. He was really oral, which boded well for me in the future. I liked how mouthy he was in bed, licking and tasting my body as he made soft, hot noises. I’d never had a lover spend so much time tasting and suckling. It turned me right the hell on so I vowed I’d return the favor and get my tongue into some sexy sweet spots on his body. Maybe tonight after the Pony game. Right now, it was all hockey, and I was fucking loving it. Sure, my soul craved the ice. My heart screamed in need of skates and speed but standing behind the kids as they played was good enough. Okay, not really even close. I was enjoying this summer league though and passing on my knowledge to young players. I’d never thought of volunteering during my summers off.
Partying had been my main objective. Looking back at my choices through sober eyes, maybe I would have been better served volunteering.
“Tommy, buddy, look here.” I held the white board under Tommy’s freckled nose. “You’re supposed to read the other players out there, right?” The kid nodded, winded and sweaty. He’d just come back to the bench after giving up the puck right in front of our net. Thank goodness Trisha, our goalie, had been on her toes or we’d be behind a goal. “When your winger takes the puck behind the net, you have to read the play that might happen, not get caught up puck watching.”
“But I don’t know what he’s going to do until he does it, so I have to watch the puck,” Tommy argued as the next line rolled over the boards.
“How long have you been playing hockey, Tom?”
“A year.”
Ah. “Okay, bud, well just do your best to try to focus on the coming play.”
“Okay, Nate,” he said but I knew he had no clue as to what I was hoping to see from him.
How did one define hockey sense? Maybe it was just the honing of a player’s skills over years and years of being on the ice. It came with maturity for sure. From being exposed to the same plays over and over until you could “read” the other men and know what they were going to do nine times out of ten. Tommy was maybe fourteen and had been at this a year. When I was fourteen, I’d been playing hockey for close to ten years so my hockey sense was much more mature than Tommy’s. Hockey had been my saving grace for so many years. It was the one place I could forget the bad parts of my life and just be Nate Zinkan, hockey player, not Nate Zinkan, the kid who drove his mother off and caused his father to try to kill himself.
“Nate, did you see that?” I grinned at the young guy with the bright smile as he threw a leg over the boards. I’d not seen whatever it had been. I’d been back in the past. “That was the spin-o-rama move like you made on Peterson in the last game to win the Calder Cup!”
Fuck. I wished I’d seen this kid—whose name I was blanking on—pull off a sweet move like that.
“You keep making those kinds of moves, Nate will be looking for a new job, Shaun,” Coach shouted down the bench. Shaun. Yes. One of two Shaun’s on the team. One was white the other black, both were rugged kids with lots of potential. Names always gave me trouble.
Shaun slapped Shaun’s hand. I patted both Shaun’s helmets and tried to focus on the game. It was almost over so my meeting was next. Maybe that was why I was so distracted. The past few weeks they’d been doing some really heavy talking, and it was just a matter of time before I was expected to participate in some meaningful manner. Nodding and grunting weren’t going to cut it for much longer. I’d get called out or something, and my lack of participation would be reported to Mort and I’d be sent to jail or be given a lecture or who the fuck knew. Maybe Mort would glower at me more at the Labor Day cookout.
We pulled a win out of our butts, barely squeaking through the final three minutes. Our defense was problematic, aside from Jane who had future Olympic women’s team written all over her. As the team filed into the locker room, I fist-bumped each player and complimented them on the win.
“This is utter bulls
hit,” Will said as I waved him in.
“Keeps the clenched ones happy,” I replied. He was muttering when he entered the dressing room. I did a bit of meandering, talking to cool parents, rink admins, stopping to grab a lemonade at the concession stand. Then, as had become routine, I waited at the front door and rapped fists with every player as they left. After all the Ponies were gone, I went back to the ice to enjoy the adult league who had scheduled ice time after the kids. Finally, knowing I couldn’t dick around any longer, I left the cool air and glittery ice and stepped outside. The heat slapped me in the face like a wet blanket.
I rode in the back of the bus, quietly texting a few of my teammates then Bran. He was doing some shopping at Destiny USA and asked if I could meet him there at the hibachi restaurant after my meeting. I loved that idea, mainly because it was the first time we’d be out in public as a couple on a dinner date. Nights at my place or grabbing chili dogs and tots at the Blue Button didn’t count as dates in my book. Going where people would see us, that was a proclamation and one that I was ready to make. Seemed Bran was testing the waters as well. The lingering gloom I’d been carting around with me today lifted, and I walked into my meeting feeling pretty good about life. That lasted exactly ten minutes.
Ten fucking minutes.
Barron opened up things with a prayer which I usually ignored, and then he took aim at me.
“Let’s make tonight a rewind night. Instead of starting with Colton and ending with Nate, let’s move around the circle in reverse. Nate, why don’t you tell us how your past week has been?”
Fucking Barron. God, I hated that dude. “It was good.”
