by Wyatt King
“No,” he says, stopping me with that hard look and simple command. “Let me get a good look first.”
He moves away from his desk for the first time since I’ve started undressing and takes a step toward me.
And then another step.
He’s so close now, and my cock is straining toward him—like it’s asking him to touch it, begging for release.
He reaches out and traces a line down my chest and abs with a touch so gentle it instantly gives me goosebumps all over my body.
“So sweet,” he murmurs. “So beautiful.” He looks directly into my eyes. “And all mine now. Right, Dusty?”
“Yes, sir,” I say, the words coming easily for me. I don’t even need to think about it, it just feels right.
It feels like what I’ve been missing.
I’m his.
Easy.
Done.
“That’s right,” he says, a faint smile crossing his lips. “Now I want you to get on your knees.”
Again, I don’t hesitate. I drop down to my knees and look up at him, waiting on my next order. I don’t normally take orders this well—in fact, my dad always says I’m too rebellious for my own good—but this is different. I’ve never had anyone boss me around like this before, and it’s hot as hell.
As if on cue, my cock throbs again, and I absently reach for it as I wait for Garrick to tell me what I need to do next. I don’t have to wait long.
“Stop,” he says, shaking his head. “You don’t touch yourself until I give you permission. Understand?”
“But I—” I stop myself, dropping my hand to my side and hoping that he can see the pleading look in my eyes. My cock is so hard it hurts, and now all I want to do is touch it—especially after being told I can’t.
“No arguing,” he says. “This is what you wanted, remember? Someone to tell you what to do… someone to take care of you… remember, Dusty?”
I nod. That is what I want. But now I want other things, too.
I want him to touch me.
I want to touch myself.
I want to come.
“Yes, sir,” I say, sighing heavily. “I do want this—want you.”
“Come closer,” he says, smiling again. “And I’ll give you what you want.”
He palms his thick cock through his pants, and the bulge looks impossibly huge now that I’m at eye level with it.
I scoot forward on my knees, grateful for the plush rug underneath me. He stops me when my nose is just a few inches away from his crotch.
“Have you ever sucked a man’s cock before, Dusty?”
I nod.
“Ever been fucked?”
My cheeks are on fire as I shake my head. “No, sir,” I mumble. “Not yet.”
“Good,” he says. “I’m going to be your first. That’s exactly how it should be. I’ll teach you everything you need to know… but not today. Today, you’re going to make me feel good. Understand?”
I nod again. “Yes, sir.”
“Good boy. Take my cock out and suck it. Now.”
I hurry to do as I’ve been told, unfastening his belt and making quick work of the thin material that’s keeping me from my prize.
I tug his pants and boxers down around his knees, gasping as his long, thick cock bobs into view. I might not have a lot of experience with guys, but I’ve seen a lot of porn, and the cock in front of me is more impressive than anything I’ve ever seen.
“That’s right,” his voice is low and gravelly. “Get those pretty lips around the head.”
I let my tongue trail across the tip first, tasting the clear, salty precum that has pooled there.
“Does that taste good, boy?” he asks.
“Yes, sir,” I say, too distracted by the cock in front of me to even bother looking up at him again. “So good. So big…”
“Suck it now,” he urges, thrusting a little until the head of his cock is brushing against my lips. “Slow and deep, until it hits the back of your throat.”
I open my mouth as wide as I can, but I don’t even get the first half of his cock down my throat before I start gagging. He doesn’t pull out, though. Instead, he grabs my head and holds me in place.
“Hold still,” he says, his tone sharp enough to cut through my rising panic. “Just relax and get used to it. Relax, Dusty.” He pauses, easing back just a little as he relaxes his grip on my head. “That’s it. Take your time. I’m going to come all over that pretty face soon enough.”
My own cock jumps at his words, and I do my best to follow his instructions.
Relax.
Go slowly.
Take it deep.
A low moan escapes his lips, and I feel a surge of pride that I’m actually doing it—I’m making him feel good, giving him exactly what he wants, making him happy.
I’m tempted to reach down and start stroking myself, but I know he’ll catch me, and I don’t want to disappoint him.
“Go ahead,” he says, doing that crazy thing where he knows exactly what I need—almost before I can even think of it myself. “Stroke that beautiful cock. But don’t come until I give you permission.”
I’m so turned on that I can feel the orgasm building inside of me as soon as I wrap my hand around my straining cock. It’s going to be practically impossible not to come soon, especially now that I’m stroking myself.
“That feels so good, Dusty,” he groans. “Are you feeling good, too, beautiful?”
I can’t speak with my mouth full of his cock, so I do my best to nod and moan, hoping that will be good enough.
He’s looking down at me so intently, his eyes full of heat and desire that I almost forget how badly I want to come.
Almost.
“Fuck, your mouth feels so good,” he says. “So fucking hot. I don’t know how long I can hold off, Dusty. Are you going to be a good boy and come with me when I tell you to?”
Oh, hell yes.
I nod and moan again. I’m already so close. Coming on command won’t be the problem—the problem will be holding it in and edging until he gives me permission.
“You’re so eager,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper now as he closes his eyes. “So perfect. And we shouldn’t be doing this right now, but fuck there’s no way in hell I’m going to stop…”
He’s thrusting harder now, and I struggle to keep up. My jaw hurts, and I can barely breathe as he presses hard against the back of my throat, but it’s so, so worth it when he tightens his grip on my head and opens his eyes again to look at me.
“Are you ready, Dusty?” he asks, then curses and slams into the back of my throat again without waiting for a response. “Oh, fuck, I’m coming—ah—come for me beautiful… come for me now, Dusty…”
He pulls out of my mouth and I close my eyes as the first hot jets streak across my face. I open my mouth, moaning and flicking my tongue across my lips to taste the salty liquid.
Even without his command to come, it would have been enough to push me over the edge, and I call out his name as my own orgasm washes over me.
“Oh my God… Garrick… oh God…”
I’ve never come so hard before in my life, and for a moment my vision blurs. I collapse against his thighs, but he’s got me, he’s supporting me.
He pulls me up, naked and panting and wobbly as a newborn colt. “That’s my good boy,” he says, pulling me close and letting his hands wander slowly up and down my back. “So good… so perfect.”
I’m aware that I’m smiling as I come back to my senses. It feels so good to be here with him that I don’t want to move, don’t even want to get dressed.
“Mr. Ward, there’s a Mr. Harper here to see you—I’m sorry but he’s very insistent, and—”
The voice of Garrick’s assistant snaps me back to reality in a flash, and I fall back away from him, scrambling to pick my discarded clothes up off the floor as he hurriedly tucks himself back into his pants.
“Have him wait just a moment, Gloria,” Garrick replies. “I�
��m just, ah, finishing up here. I’ll be right—”
His office door starts to open before he can finish speaking. Everything is a blur, but it also feels like it’s happening in slow motion at the same time. All I know is I heard Gloria say my dad’s name, and I can hear my dad’s voice now as the door opens just a few feet behind me.
I’m still naked, still scrambling to get my underwear on, but I can tell by the shocked look on Garrick’s face and the terrible weight in my own stomach that it’s too late.
The surprised, strangled noise that comes from behind me only confirms it.
“What the fuck? Dusty? Garrick? What the—”
I’ve never heard so much emotion in my dad’s voice. There’s anger and shock, pain and confusion, and plenty of disbelief.
I freeze, too scared to even turn around and face him, but Garrick springs into action, crossing the distance between us and blocking me with his body as he tries to cut my dad off.
“Brian, I can explain. Let’s take a little walk, okay?” Garrick’s voice is somehow remarkably calm, as if he’s talking about a meeting or some sort of everyday business. As if I’m not standing right behind him, struggling to get dressed while my dad watches. “Let’s just step out here and—”
My dad doesn’t say another word, and I wish I had the guts to turn around and see what’s happening, but I’m terrified and praying that this will all just end somehow.
Like… now.
And then it does.
The door closes—well, slams—and then it’s just me and Garrick again, alone in his office.
“Please tell me that didn’t just happen,” I say, finally exhaling a breath that I didn’t even realize I’d been holding in. “Oh my God. Oh my God. That… that didn’t just happen.”
“You’re going to need to finish getting dressed,” Garrick says, simply.
“What’s going to happen?” I ask, finally turning to face Garrick.
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen that look on your dad’s face before.”
My mouth is dry and I blink back tears as I realize I’ve still got Garrick’s come streaked across my face.
Oh.
My.
God.
My dad just walked in and saw me naked—saw me like this. There’s no mistaking what was going on here. There’s no excuse I can think of that might possibly save me.
And even though it feels like Garrick should have a solution—or at least that he should be saying something—he doesn’t.
“I should go,” I say, even though that’s the last thing I want to do.
Garrick only nods.
“Can I call you later?” I ask, swiping at the tears that I can’t hold back any longer. “I mean… if things… you know…”
He nods again. “I’ll help however I can, Dusty. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let this happen.”
There isn’t any comfort for me in his words, or in his apology. I wanted it to happen. I begged for it.
I just didn’t realize it was going to bring my whole world crashing down.
3
Garrick
I’m not sure how I’ve made it through the day without going crazy. I’ve been on edge ever since Dusty left my office.
I grunt as I grip the steering wheel and make the sharp turn into my neighborhood. On edge really doesn’t even come close to describing how I’m feeling right now.
Over the edge is probably more accurate.
In the space of a few seconds, I had lost one of my biggest clients—and oldest friends—and had managed to fuck up Dusty’s life in the process.
If self-inflicted crises were an Olympic sport, I would have definitely taken home the gold medal today.
And what, exactly, am I going to do about it?
“I don’t fucking know,” I mumble out loud, pressing the button to open my garage door as my house comes into view.
I sit there in the dark garage for a full five minutes after I’ve turned off the ignition. Should I have driven over to Brian’s house after work instead? I can’t even imagine the conversation that had to have happened when Dusty made it home from the office.
What could I possibly say to either of them right now that would help?
If anything, seeing me face to face again would probably only make things worse. I sigh heavily as I finally get out of my car and walk inside my house. The thought that I’m not actively making things worse for Dusty or Brian isn’t really any consolation, but it’s all I have right now.
I take my phone out of my pocket, just like I’ve done a hundred other times today, wondering if I should ignore my gut instinct and call.
But I’ve already ignored my gut once today—when it told me to send Dusty on his way first thing this morning—and well, look how that’s turned out.
And anyway, which one of them would I call?
Brian, the man I’ve known for twenty years? The solid client and business partner I’ve shared success and drinks and life with?
Or his son, Dusty? The beautiful young man with the innocent eyes and a mouth like warm velvet, who seems to get off on pleasing me?
Fuck.
Fuck.
I sink down onto the plush sofa in my living room and pick up the remote, but don’t even bother turning on the TV. There’s nothing on that will distract me from the mess I’ve made today.
A drink would probably help.
Maybe.
For a little while.
Or I’ll just end up getting drunk and doing something really stupid. Like telling Dusty I want to see him again.
I close my eyes and toss the remote across the couch, then shove a hand back through my hair. What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck have I done?
And how the fuck am I going to fix it?
So many questions, and I can’t seem to find answers to any of them.
Every possible option I have right now feels pointless. I can’t talk to Brian or Dusty. I can’t throw money at the problem. I can’t drink it away—though I’m leaning more and more toward trying, at least for tonight.
I open my eyes and stand up, needing to take some kind of action—even if it is just to go pour myself a drink—but the doorbell stops me in my tracks.
This is it.
Brian has come over now to say all the things he was too shocked to put into words earlier today. He’s probably going to throw some punches, and I’m going to have to fight the man I’ve been friends with for half my life.
My feet are carrying me toward the door, even though fighting—or even arguing—with Brian is really the last thing I want to do.
But I’m not going to try and hide from him. I knew this might happen when I started fooling around with Dusty. Well, not this, exactly, but I knew it could get ugly.
Still, I made the decision. I called the shots.
And now, I’ll face whatever the consequences are head-on, just like I’ve always done.
I get to the door and take a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever is about to happen, bracing to take a punch, if that’s what’s waiting for me on the other side.
“Look, I just want to say—” I’ve already started speaking as I open the door, but then my words fail me as my mouth falls open.
The man standing on the other side of my door isn’t my hulking, angry former friend.
It’s his son.
Dusty.
“I’m sorry, Garrick.” The first words out of his mouth break my heart. “This is all my fault and I don’t even know how any of it happened, but—”
He takes a deep, shuddering breath and I pull him close, cutting him off as he buries his face in my chest.
“None of this is your fault,” I whisper, nudging the door closed behind him. My poor Dusty. He trusted me, and I let him down. Never again. I ease back just enough to look him in the eye. “Listen to me, okay? None of this is your fault. I should have done things differently—I’m sorry that I was too…” Horny. Greedy. Selfish. Needy. “Too distracted to realiz
e that at the time. What’s wrong? What happened after you left? Tell me, so I can fix it.”
Now that the initial surprise over seeing Dusty on my doorstep has passed, I can get a good look at him. He looks just as wrecked as he was earlier today, eyes puffy and red with fresh tears streaming down his face.
I hate that I’ve caused this, but I will fix it.
Somehow.
“I went home. I tried to—” Dusty closes his eyes and sniffles, his whole body trembling. “I tried to explain, tried to reason with him. But he wouldn’t listen. He wouldn’t stop yelling. For hours and hours, we’ve just gone back and forth, yelling and slamming doors and crying, then yelling some more…”
I reach out to brush away a tear that’s rolling down his cheek and then plant a kiss on his forehead. I’m not surprised by anything he’s telling me—or rather, I’m sort of surprised that it wasn’t worse.
“It’s going to be okay,” I say, though I’m not sure how yet. “We’ll talk to him again. I’ll go there with you if you think it’ll help. Or maybe I can talk to him one on one.”
“No,” He shakes his head and the word comes out with so much force that I can feel my eyes go wide. “Please don’t go, especially not by yourself. I-I don’t know what he might do. He kicked me out—he said he can’t be held responsible for what might happen if I try to go back. He—” Dusty shudders again, then swallows hard. “He said he’s ashamed of me, that he doesn’t want to see me again.”
For the second time in as many minutes, I’m stunned speechless.
Maybe I was wrong.
Maybe it’s even worse than I thought.
Brian and Dusty have never really been close—at least, not from the outside looking in—but for Brian to disown his only son?
I honestly didn’t think it would come to this.
A flash of anger hits me at the thought that Brian could be so cold. Yes, what he walked in on was no doubt shocking. Yes, I’m sure he’s going through a whole range of emotions as a parent and as a friend that I may not fully understand.
