Out for the Holidays: An Out Novella

by Cara Dee

  He turned forty.

  “We shouldn’t have asked.” I shook my head.

  Henry sighed. “He does like those twenty-five-year-olds.”

  The following day, I found myself pacing restlessly in front of the coffee table while Henry was out running errands. I checked the time every twenty seconds, and the TV was showing the local weather. It was horrid out there, yet he’d insisted. Okay, we couldn’t very well let the dogs go without food, but the other errand…

  I wanted it, I didn’t want it, I was curious, I was a little freaked out.

  This was what happened when you were tipsy on Christmas cocktails. You had the most bizarre ideas. I bit my thumbnail anxiously, before I finally saw the headlights of Henry’s Jeep piercing through the heavy snowfall.

  I sent off a quick text to Dominic.

  Okay, he’s back.

  He was as fast with his response.

  Lemme know if Adrian and I should try it.

  I tossed the phone on the couch as the garage doors closed below us, and I waited by the door until I heard him walk up the stairs. Then I ripped the door open and hauled him inside.

  “Did it work?” I helped him shed his coat, and I flinched at the snowflakes that rolled off his shoulders. “Did you get it?”

  “I got it,” he chuckled.

  “This is crazy, right?” I followed him into the kitchen where he stowed away the kibble.

  “Well, I wasn’t planning on trying them for another ten years, but…”

  But, yeah. We were gonna try Viagra together.

  “I fear I wasn’t convincing enough,” he added. “The doctor would only prescribe me a few single-packets.” He retrieved three little packets and placed them on the counter.

  I leaned over them and stared as if they were going to put on a show.

  I could blame Henry for this. He’d spiked the drinks, and then we’d somehow started talking about porn, and I mentioned having read that porn stars took extra stimulants sometimes. And I was a curious guy, okay?

  “Let’s do it,” I said.

  Ten minutes later, we were seated on the couch with glasses of water and each holding up a little blue pill, eyeing them suspiciously.

  “How long do they last?” I asked.

  “Up to five hours.” He pinched the pill between his fingers and sniffed at it. “It’s likely it’ll last longer for me because your metabolism is faster.”

  “Interesting. Should I get the fly swatter to ward off your advances when I’m over it?”

  A corner of his mouth twisted up. “We’ve established your safeword by now.”

  I nodded. “Safeword, safeword, my fiancé’s priapism is trying to fuck me, safeword!”

  “You have to say that exact sentence. In that order. Otherwise, I won’t stop.”

  I chuckled, eyeing the pill one more time. Here we go. Fuck like there’s no tomorrow. I chased down the pill with two gulps of water, and Henry followed suit.

  Now we wait.

  I drummed my fingers along my leg. “When will we know?”

  “The doctor said it usually works after about half an hour, but never without some sort of stimulation.”

  Leaning back against the cushions, I crooked a finger at him. “C’mere, my beast. Let me stimulate you.”

  I loved sex.

  I admit, the first round on the couch was over embarrassingly quickly, but the recovery time was fucking amazing. We just had to think sexy thoughts and make out for the arousal to come roaring back.

  “How do you want me?” I walked backward to our bed and pushed down my sweats.

  He unzipped his jeans and watched me as I got on the bed. “Socks too, dear. We’re not animals.”

  “You didn’t have a problem with them when you bent me over the couch ten minutes ago.”

  “That’s entirely different, and I didn’t have your feet in my face. Off with them, now.”

  “Yes, Daddy.” I rolled my eyes and slipped off my supercomfy wool socks. “Forgive my sock sins.”

  His mouth twitched. “You’re mixing two kinks there.”

  I bit my lip as the images of confessing my filthy sins to Henry flooded my mind, and I rose to my knees on the bed. My cock continued to throb, and Henry stepped closer and gently wrapped his fingers around me.

  I looked down, staring at the way he stroked me. Ghosting touches, frustratingly so.

  “Fuck me,” I breathed. I thrust into his hold. The blood surged, and it was bordering on uncomfortable. “Please? I need it.”

  He hummed and joined me on the bed, getting comfortable on his back, and he reached for the lube. “Come here and sit on my cock.”

  The heat exploded within, and I cursed.

  He wanted me with my back to him, so I hiked a leg over his upper body and straddled his thighs. Next, he asked if I could reach the remote at the foot of the bed.

  “I had to watch something while you were in LA,” he murmured.

  I pushed play on the DVD while he slicked up his cock. No use in fingering me first. I was already wet and ready from our last round, and I hoped this wouldn’t be over as quickly. The flat screen lit up with the last time we filmed ourselves fucking.

  “Sink down on me,” he commanded huskily.

  With my hands planted on his knees, I inched back until the head of his cock rubbed against my ass. Raising myself up slightly, I angled us better and then took him inside inch by inch. I moaned under my breath and gripped my dick tightly. He filled me so perfectly, stretching my ass to the max.

  “Goddamn, I love your cock,” I blurted breathlessly. “I feel so full.” I eased forward, then backward harder. “Ungh. If you were my priest, I’d tell you anything.”

  He grunted then sucked in a breath, his hands coming to my hips. “We can always pretend. Go on and confess your sins to your Father.”

  “Oh God,” I mumbled. My face flushed, and I caught a glance at the TV where Henry was fucking me roughly into the mattress. “I think…I think about being taken against my will, F-Father. I fantasize about you—fucking me at night, shushing me, saying you can’t get enough of your baby boy’s little ass.”

  “Go on, son,” he whispered raggedly.

  Fueled by my fantasies and the unmistakable lust in his voice, I fucked myself on Henry’s cock harder and faster.

  “You keep a hand over my mouth because it’s a secret.” I bit out a groan and took him all the way in, and I rolled my hips.

  He gripped my hips tighter and pushed into me. “Will you be begging me to stop?”

  I nodded and swallowed dryly. It was the fantasy of him shushing me that drove me crazy. “Shh, just take me, son.” I’d pretend to fight him, and he would groan lustfully in my ear and fondle my cock. “I can’t help myself when you parade that sweet little ass around. I have to take it, make it mine, fill it with my come until you can’t take another drop.”

  I was too horny and needy to care about my embarrassment, so I managed to get the thoughts out in between groans, gasps, and thrusts.

  Henry’s reaction to my confession was to push me onto all fours and shove his cock so hard inside me that all the air in my lungs left me in a whoosh. Standing on one leg and with one foot planted on the mattress, his fingers digging painfully into my hips, he fucked me so he brushed against my prostate on most passes.

  “Fuck!”

  “Push back on me, baby boy,” he ordered. “I need you to push back.”

  The pain and pleasure zinged through me, creating a whirlwind of urgency. I pushed back on every painful thrust, my body’s aches irrelevant. My brain was screaming at me to get more, more, more, and the arousal kept assaulting me.

  Henry groaned. “Harder.”

  That word, along with “faster,” became the theme. I lost count of the positions we tried, how long we were at it, and it was impossible to measure how desperately we needed to get off.

  At one point, I almost started crying. The bliss mingled with aggravation, because I couldn’t. Fuckin
g. Get. There.

  I stroked myself quickly and shut my eyes. The sound of skin slapping increased as we struggled to sate our needs. My orgasm finally started approaching, but it felt different. I didn’t know how or why.

  “Henry,” I gritted out. Strung tight and flushed all over, I did everything I could to make it go faster. “Make me come.” I whimpered in between gasps. “Oh God, I gotta come.”

  He growled a curse and pulled out. “Get on your back,” he snapped. “Fuck.” He blew out a breath as I scrambled into position, and he looked as frustrated as I felt. “If we die today, I want my headstone to make it clear it was your fault, you cock-hungry little slut.”

  “I accept that.” I spread my legs for him and pulled him down for a hard, messy kiss. At the same time, he rammed his cock inside me, and I winced and cried out hoarsely at the pain. Yet…it pushed me closer to my climax. A long moan escaped me, and I began jacking my dick again. “Fuck me—just take me,” I pleaded. “I’m almost there.”

  “Me too.” He pounded in and out of me and grabbed my throat in a light chokehold. “Oh hell, darling.”

  “How strong are those motherfucking pills?” I panted.

  “Hundred milligrams.”

  “A hundred—!” My eyes flew open wide. I didn’t know squat about dosage, but it sounded like a lot!

  “Shh, the slut talks too much.”

  He shushed me.

  The fire spread in my veins, and the orgasm crashed down on me without warning. Clenching around him as tightly as I could, I took all the cock he gave me and felt ropes of come landing on my stomach and chest. But it was wrong, it was fucking wrong, it was so wrong. The desire didn’t lessen as it normally would.

  Henry bit out another growl and started coming too.

  Meanwhile, I let out a choked cry ’cause I had to have more.

  Think unsexy thoughts, think unsexy thoughts. I wasn’t gonna lose my erection unless I quit thinking about him tearing into me. Filling me. Marking me. Kissing me.

  “Motherfucking…what the…” Henry was panting and peering down between us, and I instinctively shifted my hips to bring him deeper. “You’re joking with this. I can’t—Jesus Christ.”

  “More,” I complained. “Move.”

  He shuddered and shot me a heated glare. “You’ll be the death of me, Zachary.”

  “You need more too, don’t you?”

  He swallowed and nodded once, then pulled out. “Get in the shower. I have an idea.”

  Dragging my exhausted self off the bed and into the bathroom, I flinched and stroked my chafing cock. Lustful thoughts, like rubbing come into my skin, were as effective as fighting a fire with gasoline. Hell, even my arm was sore. Could I even jerk myself with my left? I wasn’t a superhero, man. Or, you know, left-handed.

  The feeling of Henry’s release seeping out of my asshole didn’t exactly stop the blood flow to my cock.

  I turned the water on cold and hissed, stepping under the spray. One forearm landed on the tiles, and I rested my forehead there. Another hiss slipped through clenched teeth because the chilled water sluiced between my ass cheeks and across my hypersensitive skin. Unfortunately, it felt amazing too. The cold water drops tickled and caressed, and I groaned and rolled my eyes at my own whorishness. Great. I was getting turned on by water.

  Henry appeared in the door, and he was ripping into some kind of packaging. “I was going to give you this for Christmas.” It looked like a travel mug or one of those plastic tumblers, except… Oh.

  “Is that a Fleshjack?” Yeah, there was no way I’d kill my hard-on. “I love you so much right now.”

  Henry smiled faintly and joined me in the shower. “It has a shower mount.” He handed me the fuck device, the crystal-clear tumbler with a silicone butthole, and I stuck a finger into the hole. Oh, that was gonna feel so damn good.

  “I’m naming it Captain Ass Tumbler,” I declared. While Henry fastened the suction cup to the wall, I tested the toy, pushing my dick inside. “Jesus, I’m never using my hand again.” It was tight, ribbed for my pleasure, and seriously fantastic. “Hello, my second favorite lover.”

  “Here we go.” Henry robbed me of the pleasure when he took the Fleshjack from me, though only to attach it to the shower mount. “I fuck you, you fuck this.” The authority in his voice drew me in like nothing else.

  “Yes, Daddy.” I stole a kiss to silence his chuckle before he got behind me, and I planted my hands on the wall. My cock nudged the silicone, and I inched forward slowly to let the shivers run through me. “Holy fuck. I need your cock.”

  “I’m going to film this one day. We could add some role-play…” He pressed a kiss to my shoulder, licking off the water beating down on us, and guided his thick cock to my ass. “Does Daddy’s little baby need more lube?”

  I moaned at his dirty talk like the whore I was.

  “Fair enough.” He caught me off guard when he rammed into me, and it sent me flying forward, effectively burying my cock in the mounted toy. “The sounds you make, darling boy.”

  I whimpered. The plastic sleeve of the toy was clear and see-through, so I could see my cock penetrating the tight silicone. Combined with Henry taking my ass, it made me spiral out of control.

  The fuckfest continued.

  “No, you stay over there!” I let out a pitiful moan and buried my face in the couch cushion. “Henry, I’m dying.”

  “I have to rub some aloe—”

  “No,” I grated. “Don’t you get it? I’ll get hard again, and then I’ll die.”

  We were on the fourth hour. Supposedly, Viagra stopped working after five. I’d be the judge of that. Either way, four hours of fucking was completely insane, and I wasn’t having sex again, ever—for a few days.

  Henry sighed impatiently and gently pulled down my pajama bottoms. “You’re red, sweetheart. Let me make you feel better.”

  “Bastard,” I whispered into the cushion. “I want to kick you in the jingle balls for this.”

  He chuckled warmly, and then I had cold lotion rubbed into my ass. Thank fuck my dick didn’t respond with more than a few lazy twitches.

  “Need I remind you this was your idea?” he asked. “Thanks to you, I can barely walk, and my doctor thinks I have erectile dysfunction.”

  “You said he probably didn’t believe you,” I grumbled. We were so flushing the third single-pack we’d gotten. “Mmm, keep going.”

  He was fingering me lightly with an aloe-coated pinkie.

  I was a fan.

  Henry snorted and withdrew his finger, then readjusted my PJ bottoms. “Slut. Let me make you dinner instead.”

  “Bangers and mash seem very appropriate,” I noted.

  “I was thinking rump roast, actually.”

  I giggled like a girl. “Don’t forget to wash your hands!”

  By the time the kitchen and living room smelled like food again, I was ready to try sitting up. I winced and bitched but managed to find an angle that didn’t feel like being fucked by a knife.

  “God…” My head lolled back, and little Lady jumped up on the couch for a snuggle. “Yeah, comfort Daddy.”

  Henry came over to serve me a glass of Coke, crushed cherries, and ice. Because he was the best. “There’s a splash of rum in there.”

  “Yum.” I leaned forward with a grunt and took a sip. “Perfect—” My phone buzzed on the table. “Can’t. Reach.”

  “My poor cripple.” He looked at me in amusement and handed me my phone. “Dinner should be ready in twenty.”

  “I don’t deserve you,” I sighed contentedly.

  Lady licked my cheek.

  Then I frowned as I read the text from Ty.

  I don’t want to alarm you guys, but Mattie just dropped out of college and went on tour with a rock band. That’s all.

  Chapter 10

  Philadelphia Is Not In Washington

  “You really couldn’t find anything?” I paced the living room floor, listening to Martin prattling on about everyone
he’d called in order to find out who Mattie was running off with.

  Henry was on the phone too.

  “Ty is calling the numbers he has,” Martin replied. “So far, we only have the city.”

  I looked over to Henry as he covered the mouthpiece on his phone. “We can get on the red-eye if we leave now. Should I book the tickets?”

  Ugh. I clenched my jaw, then sighed heavily. Hadn’t Mexico been enough? Now we were going all across the country to track down my brother who stupidly wouldn’t answer the phone.

  “Yeah, might as well.” I slumped down on the couch and gripped my hair, ignoring the pain in my ass. “Okay, we’re booking flights. Can you keep asking around, Martin?”

  “Try to stop me,” he retorted. “My boy’s alone out there in the wild, Zach.”

  I grinned faintly and drummed my fingers along my mouth. “Has anyone ever called you a drama queen?”

  “Not that I recall,” he answered thoughtfully. “Bring Mattie home, you hear? I’ll call you if I find out anything new.”

  “Okay. Later, hon.” I ended the call and looked up at Henry. “Remember when we said we weren’t gonna leave Washington in December? That was funny.”

  Henry smiled ruefully. “Too good to be true, that’s what it was. Let’s go pack. We have to leave in ten minutes.”

  I followed him up the stairs, reluctant as fuck, and once in the bedroom, I hauled out our rollaboard luggage while he called the pet sitter. She was gonna get a raise, I reckoned. We didn’t even know exactly when we’d be home again.

  “This is so unlike my brother,” I muttered to myself. Entering our closet, I grabbed tees, a couple button-downs, jeans, and slacks for us. Henry had underwear, socks, and toiletries covered. “Seriously, dropped out? Completely?”

  Ty’s initial text had obviously made him the recipient of all our questions, but he didn’t know much. He could tell us that Mattie had started hanging out with musicians a while back, and apparently, my brother took an interest in the drums. I remembered him mentioning it before Mexico, though none of that explained why he’d up and leave everything to go on a tour. People didn’t just do that. Additionally, you didn’t pick up an instrument and master it in a few months.