by Quinn Ward
I found Peter curled up at one end of the couch, a plate of reheated pad thai on the table in front of him. “I hope you like it. I wasn’t sure if the place was any good, but they delivered, so I took a chance. I didn’t mind it, but I don’t have the same palate you do. You’re probably used to a lot better food than this.”
I bent down, bracing his cheeks against my palms, and kissed him to shut him up. He could’ve made me a peanut butter sandwich and it would’ve been the best meal I’d had in recent memory simply because he put the effort into taking care of me. “It’s perfect.”
I stretched out at the other end of the couch, tucking my feet behind Peter when he sat forward. A sharp stab of pain shot from my hip down to my toes and I tensed.
“You okay?” He shifted around some more, pulled my feet out from behind him, placed them in his lap, and started massaging my tense muscles. “Freddie, you’ve got to take care of yourself. If you’re on your feet all the time, you should get a massage every once in a while.”
“No time.” Between Marino’s and Sophia, there was no such thing as Freddie time now that we were on our own. Asking Mama to watch Sophia while I pampered myself didn’t feel right.
But asking Mama to keep her overnight so you could get laid was okay? My inner voice chastised.
“You need to make time,” he scolded me.
“It’d probably be really shitty to say I could make time every night if you were here, huh?” There I went, thinking about a future with Peter again. This was why I shouldn’t be trusted with relationships; it was too easy for me to confuse the slightest spark of attraction for a raging inferno, and by the time I realized the flame had gone out, it was too late.
“I definitely wouldn’t mind ending the days like this while I’m around,” he responded. I moaned when Peter hit a particularly tender area on my calf.
Eating wasn’t easy when I flinched every few seconds as he tried to work the knots out of my muscles. The place he’d ordered from was one of my favorites, but it turned out their food wasn’t nearly as good reheated. Finally, I gave up on trying to eat and rested my head against the back of the couch. I had almost drifted off to sleep when my eyes sprang open. I was not about to waste tonight with Peter.
“I should get to bed. If you want, you’re more than welcome to join me,” I offered, not wanting to seem presumptuous.
“Only if you’re sure, Freddie,” he responded, his tone serious. “We don’t have to do anything if you’re too tired.”
“Fuck that,” I argued. “We have the house to ourselves. Sure, it might be moving things a bit too fast, but you’ll soon realize what a luxury this is. I’m not sleeping with you across the hall when we could get started on my education.”
“Ooh, does that make me the teacher and you my misbehaving student?” he teased.
I stood, holding out a hand to help him off the couch. When he made it to his feet, I yanked him so his chest was plastered against mine. “I’m pretty sure you’re the one who wants to be punished, not me.”
Peter squirmed and his dick pressed against my thigh. I couldn’t help but wonder what he was wearing under his thin sleep pants. With any luck, it was something lacy. Or maybe satin like the day I discovered his secret. Fuck, now I was the one getting painfully hard, but I was commando under my shorts which meant there was nothing to restrain my arousal. Peter looked down, then cupped my dick in his hand. “Seems a shame to waste this. And it definitely doesn’t feel like I’m pushing you to do anything you’re not ready for.”
“Please, don’t keep me waiting,” I begged, dragging him up the stairs to my room. I paused before opening the door, trying to talk myself out of what I was about to do. Spending the night with Peter would break down so many of the walls I’d built around my life. I would no longer be able to lie to myself, saying I wasn’t bi, I just knew a good looking man when I saw one. I could tell myself this was just a fling or an experiment, but Peter was the first boy who’d made me question my sexuality, and now he was an unfairly gorgeous man.
I made my way through the dark bedroom, turning on the small lamp next to the bed. Even that little bit of light left me feeling exposed.
“Strip,” I ordered, barely recognizing the commanding tone of my voice. Peter’s breath hitched, but he instantly reached for his waistband, pushing the fabric over his slender hips. And holy fuck me up a flag pole, the sight of Peter in nothing but a pair of skimpy briefs and a simple white undershirt had me ready to bust a nut without even touching myself. My hands itched to feel the deep red lace. My mouth watered as I caught a peek at his erection through the delicate pattern. They might look like women’s underwear, but the way they hugged his sac, they were definitely made for a man.
“You like? I didn’t have much to choose from, but I thought you’d appreciate them.” Peter lifted his arms over his head and spun around slowly. My hands shook as I reached out, giving into the urge to explore Peter’s body. I drew him over to the bed, guiding him to the mattress. He grabbed my dick, giving it a firm squeeze that was more erotic than it should’ve been. “I’m going to take this as a yes.”
“Absolutely,” I confirmed. When Peter tried pulling down my gym shorts, I swatted his hand away. I didn’t want to rush this, and if he curled his fingers around my shaft, it wasn’t going to take long before I exploded.
I sat on the edge of the mattress, positioning him between my legs. His dick formed a thick ridge testing the strength of the fabric. I leaned forward, resting my forehead against his hip. His masculine scent was a stark contrast to the delicate lace.
“Want to taste you,” I admitted. I stared up at him, running my tongue over my bottom lip.
“My body is yours,” he told me, not realizing what effect that would have on me. God, how I wished he were truly mine. But he wasn’t, and there was no time tonight for somber thoughts.
Instead of pulling down the lace briefs to free his cock, I closed my mouth over the fabric, trailing my tongue along his length. When I sucked at the tip, Peter let out a low moan as he started gently canting his hips back and forth.
“Yeah baby, like that,” he praised me. “Fuck, if your mouth is that good teasing me, I can’t wait to shove my dick down your throat.”
I reached up, pulling the lace to the side far enough that his balls were exposed. I held them in my hands for a moment, taking in the smooth skin there. It was unexpected, but also oddly perfect that he groomed down there. Made the whole package that much more erotic. I paused, willing my nerves to settle before sucking one nut into my mouth. Peter’s hands fisted my hair and he took control of the encounter. “Just like that, Freddie. Fuck, your mouth is nirvana. Suck it harder.”
And so, I did. Peter widened his stance, allowing me to reach between his legs and tug at the back of his underwear as I pressed a finger into his crack. He moaned louder now, his body trying to figure out which pleasure to chase. I wanted to do more, go further, but I was new to all this and didn’t know what he’d like.
“Stop thinking so much,” he told me, yanking my mouth away from his balls. He shoved me back on the bed and crawled on top of me. “I promise, there’s nothing you’ll do I haven’t done before.”
“That’s sort of the whole problem.” I cringed when I realized that admission had slipped past my lips.
Peter pinned me to the bed, holding my arms over my head as he bent down to kiss me. He ground his cock against my stomach, and I pushed him lower, wanting the friction against my own aching dick. “Whatever you’ve thought about doing while you jerk off, that’s what I want you to do. Just because I have more experience than you doesn’t mean I won’t have fun. That’s the kick-ass thing about sex; as long as everyone gets off, there aren’t many ways to do it wrong.”
“Will you tell me what you like?” When I fantasized about being with a man, I’d always pictured myself with someone smaller than me, but that didn’t mean they bowed to my desires. What I craved was a man who wasn’t afraid to tell me what
got him going because there was little I wanted more than to see him come apart at the seams knowing I was the one who brought him pleasure. “If you could ask me to do anything to you, what would it be.”
“Oh honey, even if we had the rest of our lives, I’m pretty sure we’d never get to the end of that list,” he whispered as he nibbled his way down my neck. “You have to remember, I have a huge head start on you, and that means I’ve had a lot more time to get creative.”
“You’re not helping,” I told him, feeling incredibly self-conscious.
Peter sat upright, staring down at me as he placed a hand over my heart. “You don’t get it, do you?” I shook my head because I was obviously missing what he was trying to say. “Just being here with you is my fantasy come to life. Sure, I’ve had more sex than you have, but I was always ashamed of the fact that when I jerked off, it was always to thoughts of you. My attraction to you is how I realized I was gay. And I hated myself for it, knowing that you’d eventually find out and you’d hate me for it.”
Fuck. I really wish we’d talked about all this years ago. It would’ve spared both of us so much heartache and self-loathing.
“So the simple fact that I’m here and you’re with me is enough.” He leaned back, shoving his hand into my shorts. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m dying to feel this thick cock stretching me out, but we have time to build up to that. Tonight, I want to give you one thing you’ve always wanted but never had.”
“I want to taste you.” As I paused, Peter shimmied up my chest. “I want to know what it’s like to feel you come in my mouth.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Peter lifted himself up onto his knees, pulling down the lace far enough his dick sprang free. He shifted things around so the fabric cradled his balls, leaving him exposed. He curled a hand around his shaft, running the leaking tip across my lips. I stuck out my tongue, wanting to taste him. He gasped when I made contact with his slit for the first time.
I opened my mouth and sucked him in, digging my fingers into his hips, forcing him deeper into my mouth. I gagged and he tried to pull out. I shook my head, determined to get used to the feeling. This was what I wanted. It didn’t take long before Peter took the hint and started fucking my face. He leaned forward, steadying himself against the headboard as he thrust in, holding himself a second or two before pulling back.
I didn’t want him taking it easy on me. I wanted to choke on him. Wanted to know that he’d take care of me, making sure I didn’t pass out from lack of oxygen. It was something I’d seen once in a video online, and I’d become fascinated with why it turned me on so much, but knew it was something I could only explore with a man I trusted with my life. And Peter was at the top of that list.
The next time he pushed himself to the back of my throat, I swallowed hard, digging my fingers harder into his hips, hoping he’d get what I was trying to tell him. He stared down at me, pupils blown, and ran his fingers through my hair. “You’re fucking gorgeous. You like choking on me?”
I nodded the little bit I could in this position, looking back at him, hoping he could see the message conveyed in my eyes.
He pulled out and I gasped for air. “Fuck, you really are perfect for me.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but it still made me preen a bit to hear.
“Move to your side. We will be revisiting this, but right now, I want to taste you, too. No reason you should get to have all the fun.” Peter slid off of me, directing me to roll on my side. He pushed my shorts down and I kicked them off. “Damn, look at that thing. You are so fucking me the next time we have the house to ourselves.”
I loved how easily Peter talked about future plans, but when he did, it was easier for me to forget there wasn’t really a future for us.
That depressing thought was banished from my mind as Peter kissed the tip of my cock. It was the briefest touch, tender and erotic at the same time. I followed his lead, taking as much of him as he took of me, our movements more languid this time. He rubbed my balls and he blew me, allowing his middle finger to drag over my taint. I tensed, worried he was going to go further.
I’d fingered myself a few times, but it wasn’t something that turned me on. That was part of why it’d been so easy to convince myself I was just confused about being bi; if I really liked men, I figured that’d include liking to be penetrated.
“Relax, I’m just playing. I know you’re not ready for that yet. But if you’re curious, I’m a slut for ass play. Fucking love it. You want me to shoot down your throat, that’s the quickest way to get me there.”
Noted. I pulled off his dick, sucking on two of my own fingers. Before the next time we fooled around, one of us needed to make a trip to the store, because even with my digits slick with spit, I worried about hurting him.
Peter bent one knee, making it easier for me to reach between his legs as I started sucking him again. The vibration of him moaning around my cock sent a shiver up my spine. I pressed into him, cautiously at first, daring to go deeper with each thrust. Soon, Peter was fucking my hand and my mouth in tandem. His moans grew more heated and he sucked harder. He begged me for more, and I added a second finger beside the first.
“Deeper,” he demanded, throwing his head back, and I pushed as deep as I could. “Fuck yes, just like that… crook your fingers a bit.” He spit into his palm and started jerking me off as he continued telling me exactly how to pound into him with my fingers. His ass clenched a split second before he barked out a warning and came in my mouth.
Cum dribbled past my lips as Peter convulsed through the aftershocks of his orgasm. He turned himself on the bed, kissing me like he was trying to lick as much of his own cum as possible out of my mouth. Fuck, even that was hot.
“Would it be wrong if I told you I want to see you make yourself come?” he asked when we finally came up for air.
“Why would it be?”
He kissed his way along my collarbone before resting his head on my chest. “Because you just gave me the best orgasm I’ve had in recent memory and now I’m asking you to take care of yourself. Call me selfish, but I really want to see it. Thought about spying on you so many times, wondering what you looked like when you came, how you got yourself off.”
As he continued relaying this voyeuristic fantasy, I gave him exactly what he wanted. He ran his fingers through the dark hair on my chest, pausing to trace soft circles around my nipples.
Only when he buried his face in my armpit did I have a moment of hesitation. “Fuck, you smell good.” And then he licked me. I’m not sure why that was so bizarre when he’d just had my dick in his mouth and he’d shot a load in mine, but the way he teased my pit with his tongue was a new and odd sensation.
“Don’t stop, Freddie.” He placed a hand over the top of mine and started guiding my hand up and down my dick. He pressed against my fingers, tightening our grip, and increased the pace. It didn’t take long until my back arched and my breath hitched as I coated both of our hands with my release.
The downside of sex for me was that it was better than any sleeping pill on the market. Before I’d even come down from the high, I drifted off to sleep, waking to the feel of a wet washcloth against my stomach.
“Don’t want that to dry and be a mess in the morning,” Peter said, answering my unasked question.
He tossed the washcloth into the bathroom and curled up next to me in the bed. I’d expected to have another restless night, but instead, I slept like the dead with Peter safely in my arms.
8
Peter
Freddie and I settled into a domestic routine after the first week I was there. I’d wake god-awful early so I could sneak downstairs and get started on breakfast, which had the added benefit of keeping Sophia from seeing me sleeping in her daddy’s bed and asking too many questions. If Freddie worked the dayshift, they’d leave soon after, leaving me to the household chores. Freddie still argued that it wasn’t my job to clean up after them, and I’d counter it was clean or pay
rent. That usually shut him up in a hurry.
Night shifts were where it got tricky. Half the time, she’d whine when it was time for them to leave, begging us to let her stay home with me. So far, Freddie had convinced her to see her Nonna, but I could tell it was wearing on all of them.
Freddie grumbled when his phone rang. “Hey Carlos, what’s up… yeah… sh—crud… I’ll have to run Sophia to Mama’s, but I’ll get there as quick as I can.”
He hung up and tossed his phone towards the couch. “Everything okay?”
“No. One of the prep cooks is a bumbling idiot who makes Matteo look calm and collected, which is why we try to only use him as a runner. But apparently we’re short-staffed, so Carlos had him helping make the soups, and the jackass wasn’t watching where he was going,” Freddie explained as he rummaged through the clean clothes I had planned on folding once he left for work. “He managed to crash into Carlos and now both of them have some pretty nasty burns. I’m three cooks down for the day and lunch rush will start about the time I drop Sophia off at Mama’s.”
I pulled Freddie aside, not wanting to undermine him in front of Sophia, given her obsession with wanting to stay home. “Why not let her stay here and give your mama a night off?”
“Because I don’t want to get her out of her routine,” he replied sharply.
“It’s not going to kill her to stay home. Besides, your mama’s been complaining that she doesn’t know what’s going on at the restaurant since she started watching Sophia more often.” He snorted back a laugh. I understood there was an added bonus to her watching Sophia, meaning she wasn’t sticking her nose in, trying to tell the boys how to run the family restaurant, but they didn’t see how adrift she was. That restaurant had been her life for nearly thirty years. “Come on, just let Soph stay here with me tonight. It’ll make the women in your life happy.”
“That’s dirty, man.”
“Yep, but it worked, didn’t it?” I admitted gleefully.
