by Avery Aster
“No.” He exhaled, lifted his legs, arching his ass and welcoming everything his Dom intended.
“Let me fist you.” Miguel’s chin rose in confidence.
Slowly, he nodded in agreement. He was ready. He wanted to trust him. It was time.
“Rough sex is your favorite. You enjoy acting resistant. Sí?”
Again, he nodded. “Who knew?”
“You play the part. Tell me to stop all you want.” He wrapped his hand around Blake’s neck and applied pressure as if to choke him. “I’m going to give you a safe word.” He leaned down taking his mouth with a savage intensity.
“No tape over my mouth?” Tension around his neck grew tighter.
“We’ve gotta talk our way through the fisting.”
“Okay.” This was going to be extreme.
“Eyes focused on me. I’ll guide you.”
“What’s my word?” Blake sat up.
“Your safe word is MLD.” Eyes squinted, a muscle in his jaw twitched.
“Not funny. But I get it.” He wasn’t going to shout his ex-husband’s acronym for Missy Limp Dick during his euphoric inauguration. Damn, Mig, you’re good! You’re pushing my body and my emotional buttons all at the same time.
Resuming the position between his legs, Miguel sat on the stool. He slid his fingers into Blake’s ass. “Three fingers, bebé. You’re doing good. Deep inhale for me.” He pushed in more. “Four fingers.” He stood, rolling his shoulders back. Massaging Blake’s inner thighs with his free hand, he encouraged, “Doing great.”
Fuck. “Feels…like I’m split in half.”
“Love your ass.” Miguel held onto his nuts with his free hand and pushed his fisting hand into his asshole.
“Make me come. For Christ’s sake, let me come.”
He felt Miguel’s fingers slide deeper. Intense pressure built. His asshole was in ecstasy. “Give me more.” He smiled up at his Dom. “Get your fist in there, Mig.”
Gramercy
“Ladies,” Danita called them back up. “Dr. Kenzik will see you now.”
For the first time since finding the DNA letter, Lex felt better. She knew this happened for a good reason. A blessing after all their parents had put them through, the verbal abuse, the drugs, and neglect—sisterhood was a gift.
“Ready?”
“As ever.” Dry-eyed, Taddy seemed relieved they’d talked moments before.
Dr. Kenzik greeted them as they came into the room. Paper in hand, his face didn’t reveal their test results one way or another. He must do this every day. Just not with Easton girls.
“Miss Brill.” Dr. Kenzik turned his attention to Lex. “Miss Easton. The results showed that you two are…an exact match.” He handed them each a paper.
“Oh! My!” Taddy shrieked happily.
“I get this is the news you were hoping to hear?” Dr. Kenzik put his hand out to congratulate Taddy.
“You mean we’re sisters?” Lex said. Overwhelmed, she gulped hard as hot tears slipped down her face. Happy ones and yet, she felt so confused. At the first idea of them being sisters she’d been sick to her stomach over it. But since they were indeed related, she was angry at her father.
“Yes, I hope this helps.” Dr. Kenzik extended a handshake. “I’ll leave you two to talk. Danita will meet you up front with your bill. Take your time.”
Taddy inhaled and wiped her eyes. “You okay?”
“Why do you think our parents never said anything?” She felt like such a fool. “I don’t know what to say. Are you glad you know?”
“Ummm…yes and no. I’m relieved and yet perplexed as to why Eddie never went to get retested.”
“Drugs, probably. Dad hated going to the doctor’s office. He hated to be sober. Anything like this appointment would’ve forced him to dry out for a few days.”
“Eddie was so selfish.”
“He was an addict, Taddy.” It had taken Lex years to come to terms with what her father was, but she did. “Look on the bright side.”
“What’s that?”
“You won’t have to share the Eddie Easton estate with me,” Taddy joked.
“Right. Dad died bankrupt. There isn’t one. He signed his music rights away, too.” Lex tried to laugh with her. She couldn’t. “The only thing you’re getting out of this is knowing I’m your half-sister.”
“That’s more than I could’ve ever asked for. Well…I’d suggest we go get a few drinks with Vive to celebrate, but you can’t have a cocktail for like seven more months and Vive needs to quit booze altogether.”
“Thanks for reminding me.” Lex realized, with all the drama going on, that she was already so blessed with friends and family. Now, there was another baby growing inside her. “I don’t know what I’m going to say to Mom.” And how would she tell her fiancé? “Massimo must think my family is crazy.”
“Yes, I’m sure he does.” She put her arms around her. “DNA or not, you’re still my sister. We don’t need GeneLynx to tell us who our real family is.”
“I love you, Taddy. I love you so much.”
“That’s the first time you’ve ever said…you loved me.” She smiled.
“It is not.”
“Darling, it is. The only person who has ever said they loved me is Warner.”
“I didn’t say in love with you.” She laughed, though her mind raced for a second. Maybe her bestie was right. “Are you trying to make me feel worse?”
“No, darling. But if it got you to finally wake up and count your stars and say you loved me, I’d go through this GeneLynx test again.”
“You would?”
“Sure. I love you more than anything. You may be a pain in the ass, but I can’t imagine my life without my best friend.”
“You mean your sister. I’m upgrading my BFF status.”
She paid the bill, put Taddy in the SUV, and headed home to be with Massimo and her son.
East Village
His Dom tugged at his ball sac with one hand and plunged in his ass with the other. His right hand pushed in further and with each millimeter inside his ass, Miguel’s smile broadened.
You get off on being in control over my body. You want to own me.
With a tug at his cock, Blake started to jack off. He found it helped relax his ass. “Intense. So tight.” He reached down, grabbing onto the string to tug at his nipples. “Fuck!” he shouted and pulled harder to prevent himself from a panic. He let go from the emotional resistance. “Take me.”
“I’m in mid-hand, bueno.” Miguel’s thumb massaged the scrotum, dancing a fire around his G-spot. “Let’s do breathing exercises together. Relax more.”
“Can’t. This is as good as it’s gonna get.” He felt his ass cheeks tighten.
His Dom frowned. Any hope to avoid a panic was waning.
“Blake,” he called to him in a tranquil voice. “Trust me. I’ll make this your best experience yet.” His hand pushed in further. “On three, I want you to clamp your asshole around my hand and hold it for ten seconds. Ready?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Uno, dos, tres.”
Blake’s ass filled with pressure. His ass cheeks tightened.
“Ocho more seconds.”
He screamed. “Shit. My ass is closing.”
“Look at me.”
Miguel’s controlling words with his hypnotic stare possessed him into further submission.
“Release. You did it, ten seconds.” He grinned.
Taking a deep breath in then out, Blake released the constricted muscles in his asshole. The second he gave way, Miguel slid in further, deeper. Blake held on to the string between his nipples and shouted, “Fuck!” I can’t take it anymore.
“Let me in.” Miguel wedged his wide hand in further.
He felt as if he’d been sawed in half.
“I love you how you’re giving yourself to me, bebé.”
In a flash, he experienced the full fist, causing his body to tremble. The fine hairs on his chest stood on end. “
You’re in!” he screamed.
“I’m in.”
Letting the nipple clamps go, he held on to the table’s edge, arching his back. “Mig.”
His Dom hoisted himself up onto the bench under his legs. “I love your body.” He moved his fist in and out of his ass with care. His other hand jacked the cock.
“I’m going to come.” He pressed down with his feet and arched his legs as he pushed into his back.
“Come for me, bebé.” With his free hand, Miguel pumped his cock with feverish intent.
Raw with desire, eager to orgasm, he hadn’t cum in four days. It was time. “Ohhhh,” he trembled, starting with his toes, sending a spiral up his back. The first squirt came with a liberating, giddy laugh. A second, larger pump ejaculated up high, reaching his shoulders.
“Bebé’s a shooter.”
“Yeah, fucking jack me harder.” He rolled his eyes, seeing black. Heaven.
Miguel tugged down, yanking his cock with one final thrust, sending him into ultimate release. Hot liquid singed his chest as it rained.
“Mágico.” He retracted his fist from Blake’s ass.
He shook, too tongue-tied to speak. He’d given up control. He gave in to his senses. He’d allowed himself to be stripped of his defenses, weak to his Dom’s touch.
I did it.
Sudden coolness washed over him as his body separated from Miguel’s. His ass felt as if it had been dipped in ice and set on fire. It was a heady mix.
His Dom cheered him on. “The best.” He licked Blake’s release into his mouth.
He noted he didn’t swallow, but stuck his covered-in-white tongue out at him. Piggie. Lapping up his second release then third, Miguel’s mouth cheeks were full. He tried to sit up as his best friend pushed his legs back into his chest, ass out.
Miguel spat a wad into his hole. “Using your cum for lube,” he chimed.
Bigger pig. The cum pelted down his ass, ready for his friend’s cock.
Standing, Miguel wiped his lips with his forearm. “It’s my turn to come.” Pulling his body to the edge of the table, Miguel hoisted himself on top. He rested between Blake’s legs, up over his stomach. He pulled out a condom and sheathed his dick. Slowly, his cock started to penetrate him. “I’ve been waiting to fuck you since the day I met you,” he whispered in his ear.
Guilt consumed him. A flashback to the brick on his back and the weight of what Miguel had carried for the last ten years.
Miguel lowered his face, resting his lips upon his in a kiss then slid his tongue in with one powerful push. Their mouths danced.
He repositioned himself beneath his friend’s weighted frame, trying to get comfortable. You can do this. It’s just sex. Miguel will be fine.
He couldn’t.
He wouldn’t.
“Enough squirming, bebé. Let me get my cock inside.” He held on to Blake’s hips, ready to penetrate all the way. Staring into his eyes, Miguel appeared drunk by the passion. “I love you, Mr. Morgan.” His kisses were weak, confused. He pulled his head back again, waiting for a response. “I always have.”
I can’t. “I love you, too.” He must end this. “My love for you is why we must stop now.”
Reacting as if Blake teased, he nodded dismissively. “Prisoner, I’m releasing you from your captivity. You may be my boyfriend now. Not my sex slave.” His dark eyebrows rose, posing the question, waiting for his response.
It was the first time he’d ever seen his friend appear so vulnerable.
Boyfriend? For gay Heaven’s sake…no fucking way. “What?”
“I’m in love with you. I want you to be mine. Forever.” Miguel moved his groin in closer. “I want us to be together.” He pushed his cock into Blake’s ass.
“Ahhh…” He held on to Miguel’s shoulders, ready to be impaled. So tempting, being with someone he trusted, who loved him, who he’d have great sex with. Be best friends with—an ideal relationship.
But what if his friend changed his mind as his ex-husband had and went against his word? Riddled with relationship fear, he couldn’t go through that again.
“M-L-D,” he affirmed and attempted to push Miguel away from him.
Miguel’s cock disengaged. His movie star smile faded, brows furrowed, and shoulders dropped. Pulling his body back, he asked, “What?” He kept his arms over Blake, pinning him down for an answer.
“I can’t be in a relationship. I don’t want—”
Eyes glazing over, Miguel said, “You’re selfish. You love yourself too much to allow anyone to love you back.” He pushed his body down further. “That’s why you picked Diego over me. You knew all along he wasn’t your true love. Diego couldn’t hurt you. You were safe with him as long as he did what you wanted.”
Oh, Diego hurt me all right. Like I never expected. “You don’t understand.” Do not do this to us, Mig.
“Can’t risk getting hurt?” His arms and legs enclosed Blake’s body.
Miguel wouldn’t let him go without an answer.
“Not exactly,” he grunted. He never imagined himself emotionally unavailable. When his friend posed the question, he became conscious of the possibility.
“What then?” He blinked. Drops of sweat clung to his forehead.
“I need time to think, to process this.”
“You’ve had ten years.”
He raked the Latin’s chest with his fingers, hoping the conversation wouldn’t get worse. “I assumed a crush, or a fuck. Never love. Not this.”
“Now you know.” Miguel cupped his hands around Blake’s face. Leaning in, he gave him a kiss on the forehead then on the left cheek. He crossed over and pressed his lips against his face’s right side.
He felt as if the oxygen in the room was burned up by the fire between them. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m over your apologies. Give me an answer.” Miguel kissed his chin. “Right now.” He planted a final kiss on Blake’s lips. Eyes open, he stared down at him.
Too intense. Too much. You’ll destroy me if I agree to this. Blake pushed his friend’s mouth to the side. “I can’t.” He needed Miguel off him.
“Can’t give me an answer?” Tears dropped from his shadowed eyes. “Or can’t be in a relationship with me?”
“Both.”
I’m so confused. How did this get so messy?
Defeat eclipsed Miguel’s body. His skin was so tight you could bounce a silver dollar off his chest. Standing without acknowledging Blake, he grabbed his trench coat, covering his leather attire. He picked up the toolbox.
“Don’t leave, please…” He sat up off the bench and ran toward the door.
Miguel didn’t face him. “Find someone else to finish your Seven Desires.” A repugnant tone laced his voice as he muttered over his shoulder, “Fuck you, Blake.” With that, he stormed out.
After sitting there for a few minutes collecting his thoughts, and his things, Blake slipped his pants and shirt back on, ashamed he’d let the week go as far as it did. He knew better. Nothing good could come from sex, casual or committed. It wasn’t worth ruining his friendship. It had already ruined his marriage and Diego’s life.
Out on the sidewalk, he rubbed his tender wrists. The night’s damp air made him feel even more alone than he’d already felt on the inside.
A text came through to his phone. Morgan, stay in Chelsea. I’ll messenger your shit to your doorman later. Take care, Santana.
‘Take care’? That was worse than ‘eat shit’ or ‘drop dead’.
He’d be safe at his Chelsea penthouse. Diego hadn’t been there earlier when he’d stopped by. Maybe a night alone would help him clear his mind and think. Everything seemed to be compounding and getting worse. First Diego threatened to kill him, then Lex canceled her wedding, and it looked like he’d just lost his best friend.
I wanted to be punished for picking the wrong guy, but not this. You don’t understand what Diego did…
Just marry me already
“When a girl is in love you can see
it in her smile, like me with Masi. When a boy is in love you can see it in his eyes, like Masi with me. When two boys are in love with each other, they both can’t see shit, like Miguel and Blake.”—Lex Easton, mom, wife, fashionista.
Cagney & Lacey
Midtown West
In the limo, Miguel exchanged his leather gear for jeans and a t-shirt. At the suggestion of Madam Queen Dick Dupree, he went to the only place in town he could have a drink and let out his frustration while wearing his leather ensemble.
The Eagle.
Divey and dark, The Eagle was situated in the West Twenties. Close to the gay neighborhood of Chelsea but set away from the main avenues, it made sense why guys went there to be…mischievous. At least they were that night. As he walked into the bathroom to piss, he noticed a guy taking a leak down another dude’s throat. He laughed, thinking about his and Blake’s shower together.
Thirsty, he went to the bar and ordered a Corona with lime. The DJ spun a heavy metal classic. Birdie Easton’s Lucifer’s Mistress, “Take me, take me tonight, take me now…”
“Miggy.” A familiar voice called out over his shoulder as he took a seat.
He turned to see Gillian Neeson, the guy he’d dated the previous summer. “Hola, Gil,” he greeted, admiring his rust-colored hair and light skin. Freckles spattered across the bridge of his nose, the ones he’d given nicknames to, appeared to have darkened since the last time they’d been together.
Gillian tried to kiss him but he turned his face, planting his lips on his cheek. He took the stool next to him.
He didn’t like that. He didn’t ask for company. He wasn’t up for small talk, either, especially when Gillian’s hand grazed against Miguel’s leg.
“True or false—”
“I’d rather play truth or dare.”
“Ha.” Gillian laughed, making himself comfortable. “Rumor is…you’re living with Blake Morgan. Is that true or false?”
“Gil, what biz is my life of yours?”
“It used to be.”
“Nice try. Who told you?”
“Duckie Capri.”
“Blake’s assistant is gossiping about his personal life? Talk about career suicide.” If he didn’t fire Duckie, Taddy would, for sure.
