by V. L. Locey
“Let me go brush my teeth,” I said when he tried to slip his tongue into my mouth. He nipped my bottom lip before I rolled from the bed and ran to the bathroom. As I brushed up and down, I stared at myself. I thought I might see a guy who was scared about what I hoped was going to happen. But there was no fear in my eyes. They were just my old brown eyes, smoky and hot with lust, but my old, dull brown eyes. I spit, rinsed, and returned to Sal’s bedroom. He was waiting by the dresser when I entered the room. I unbuttoned my shirt and threw it on the floor. We exchanged smoldering looks. He moved up behind me, his hands slipping around my waist to lie on my trembling stomach.
“We’ll take things slow,” he said, then placed a kiss between my shoulder blades.
My eyes drifted shut. His hands traveled downward. He unzipped my fly, then pushed a seeking hand into my briefs. His fingers brushed the head of my cock. I whimpered, and he moaned against my back. My hips bucked to fill his hand with my dick. His left hand slid lower. He cradled my balls and began stroking my cock.
“Do you like this, August?”
“Yes, yes, yes.” The reply escaped me on shaky breaths. “I’ll come soon if you don’t stop,” I coughed out a second later.
“Then come,” he murmured against my spine.
He ran his thumb over the slit, taking the droplet of precum and working it down and over the head. Some sort of gargling sound erupted out of my mouth. Sal squeezed my balls. I came so strongly it buckled my knees. His hand rolled over the head, catching as much cum as he could. My head fell back to rest beside his as the tremors slowed.
“Now we can enjoy ourselves,” he purred, then slapped his hand to my chest. He rubbed my semen into my skin, then turned me to face him. His gaze met mine and something potent flared to life in his eyes.
“I’m so glad we met,” I whispered.
“So am I,” Sal said.
I kissed him roughly, my hands pulling at his clothes. He tried to slow me down, but screw that. I wanted his body. We fell into his big peachy bed a minute later, both of us nude, our skin sizzling and sparking with yearning. I rolled onto my back to give him free access. He slid over me, kissing and teasing me with his mouth while his hard dick nestled against my stomach. His body was firm and lean, strong, the muscles flowing as I rubbed my palms over any exposed flesh I could find. His chest had a nice amount of curly black hair covering it. He lapped at my chin, nibbled at my nipples, then licked my chest clean.
“I want you inside me,” I begged as he ran his tongue around my navel, making sure he didn’t miss a drop of spunk. My fingers dove into his hair as I rotated my hips to rub my cock against him. He shook my hands off, then moved lower.
He sucked my semi-hard dick deeply into his mouth. I wiggled back on the bed to give him some room for his legs. Sal suckled boisterously, using his fingers to trace my perineum and toy with my asshole. Within minutes I was hard again and in need of more. Sal paid special attention to the head of my dick, twirling his tongue around and around as he stroked my opening, teasing it, putting pressure on it and then taking that glorious pressure away. He drove me into a mad, mindless state where my only thoughts were of him filling me as I shot my load.
“Are you close, August?”
“Yeah, close, shit, I want you in me,” I pleaded, my fists wound in the covers as I pushed on the mattress with my heels.
He slid from the bed. I let my arms go loose and watched as he opened a condom and rolled it down over his cock. He had an amazing dick, fat and long with a slight upward curve. A rush of uncertainty took over as I tried to gauge how something of that size would fit inside me. He stood at the end of the bed, working a plump line of lube over his dick, his sultry gaze never leaving my face.
“Spread your legs,” he said, with just a slight tremble in his voice. I let my knees drop to the sides. I heard his breath hitch before he climbed between my thighs. The touch of his fingers at my entrance made me jump. “This will be wonderful, I promise.”
I forced my eyes to close and just gave myself to Sal. He pressed into my ass with two fingers. I moaned loudly when he rotated those digits. Round and round, bumping my golden spot with each widening circle. I lifted my ass from the bed. He pulled two fingers out, then pushed three in. And then out. And then in. And then out. In and out, around and around, until I roared at him to fuck me.
“Tell the truth,” Sal said as he fingered me into delirium. “Are you sure you want this tonight?”
I reached for his arm, wrapping my fingers around his thick biceps. “I want you to do this now, tonight. I want you to do this for me, to me. For us.”
“August, you sure you want me to be the one? “
“Please, yes,” I panted as I dug my fingers into his arm. “I want you to be the man who does this for me. I’ve been waiting six years. I want it to be you, Sal, I do.”
I wriggled around beneath him, trying my best to entice him into throwing his qualms away. Passion flamed in his eyes.
“Thank God you showed up and walked into my life,” he growled, then fell over me.
The kiss was tender, almost sweet, and long. God, that kiss lasted forever. All the while his fingers brought me closer and closer to losing my mind. “I’ll be as gentle as I can,” he murmured between long, soft kisses.
His fingers slid out, making me gasp then groan in loss. He settled between my thighs, then took my ankles in his hands. Shaky, rapid breaths rushed out of me. I ran my tongue out to moisten my lips. Sal slowly placed my feet over his shoulders, his hot eyes locked on my face.
“Try to relax, August.”
“I’m trying.” The head of his cock slid over my ass. I trembled as he pushed my thighs against my chest, then breached me. My face screwed up in a grimace.
“Relax, August, just relax. Close your eyes if that helps,” he whispered, his gaze moving from my face downward.
He rolled his hips. I tensed. He paused. I sucked in a shuddering breath. He withdrew then pushed in a tiny bit further. Over and over we did that, until he was fully seated inside me. My brain was sending wild, erratic signals to my body. The pressure, the feeling of fullness, the incredible sensation of his cock resting inside me, the burning and pain, the smell of sex and his aftershave, the cool smoothness of his peachy bedspread under me—everything combined was almost too much. “You’re doing so good, August, so good.”
“I can’t…stop.” I placed a hand on his chest. “No, don’t stop. Ah, ah God,” I ground out when he withdrew and then pushed back into me. My hand lingered on his chest. I could feel his heart thudding under my sweaty palm. “Slow, go slow,” I begged around a grimace. My dick was embarrassingly soft and lay on my belly.
“Of course,” he replied somewhat breathlessly, then fell into a rhythm that would make me cry out for so many reasons counting them would be impossible.
“Relax, mi amante tímido,” Sal kept repeating.
The soft cadence of his words flowing over me helped a little, as did the tender look of concern on his face as he moved his hips in a circle and came. I lay on my back, my hands on my knees and my knuckles white, spellbound by the beauty of a man finding his release because of the pleasure of my body. Sal was breathtaking as his orgasm washed over him. His jaw clenched, the cords in his neck stood out, and short, hot grunts tumbled out of him.
Our eyes met, and it was all right there, at least for me. Sal leaned over me, captured my mouth, and kissed me until his cock began to slide out. I released my knees and pushed my fingers into his thick black hair as he tasted me.
He whispered something in Spanish, the same thing he’d been repeating while we had sex.
“What does that mean?” I asked, surprised by how my voice cracked.
He eased out of me, his fingers keeping the condom tight to his prick. “My shy lover.” He rolled from the bed and pattered off to the bathroom.
I moved to sit up, and winced at the flare of tenderness. I was still seated on the edge of the bed, my left leg wound up in the
peach bedcover, when Sal emerged from the bathroom with wet hair and a small white tub of something in his hand. He walked over to stand in front of me. I lifted my gaze from his semi-flaccid cock to his face. Was I imagining what I was seeing in his gaze?
“This is for you,” he said, then bent down to steal a kiss. “Lie back.” I cocked an eyebrow. Sal gave me a sassy sort of look. “It’s to help with the discomfort you’re feeling.”
“What’s in it?” I wasn’t sure about smearing goop with unknown ingredients on my asshole.
Sal turned the tub around and read off the ingredients, am amused smile working at the corners of his mouth.
“Virgin olive oil, avocado oil, some beeswax and honey. It’s all organic, and it works, trust me. Now lie down and let me attend to my lover.”
“My lover. I like the sound of that,” I said, then pulled him down by the back of the neck for another deep kiss.
When I fell onto my back, I tugged Sal with me. We spent a couple of minutes making out, and then I allowed Sal to rub some of his magic butt balm on my tender ass. The touch of his fingers smoothing the slick cream around my entrance sent tingles of want up my spine. My dick started to fatten up. A low rumble of pleasure escaped me.
“I like that,” I told him, then buried my face in the mattress.
“I can tell,” he replied as his hand eased away from between my legs.
I felt him leave the bed, and rolled onto my side. The balm seemed to be helping numb the area. Sal placed the tub on the nightstand, then crawled into bed. I curled up beside him after we had the covers up to our chins. My head rested on his biceps as we stared at the ceiling.
“Thanks for being so good with all that,” I said, and rolled my head to the left so I could see his profile. His nose looked bigger from the side, but I liked it. I also liked the burn on my face from his beard.
“Thank you for trusting me so much,” he replied, then let his head roll on the thick pillow it rested on. I gazed into pools of rich cocoa. “You’re something special, August Miles.”
“Not so special. Just a hockey player,” I mumbled, then crawled over him.
His eyes rounded, but a sinful smile overtook him when I grabbed our cocks in one hand and began stroking them. I waggled a brow. Sal chuckled deeply.
“I can see that having a hockey player as a lover is going to be a hell of a ride. Maybe I should grab a nap so you don’t exhaust me.”
“You’ll be fine,” I said quickly, then tried my best for the rest of that hot, sensual night to wear him out.
I woke up looking into Sal’s beautiful eyes. They were so deep and so brown, I forgot how to breathe for a moment or two.
Sal ran his thumb over my cheekbone. Lying here like that forever would have made me so happy. But the world, and all the shit that made it run was just outside the bedroom door. He caressed my face tenderly. The covers were warm and soft as they slipped off my shoulder. I saw his sight flicker down to the bite marks he’d left during a round of passion. Then his attention came back to my face.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Okay, considering.”
The smile that played on his lips was faltering but his eyes—oh man, those dark brown eyes, they told me everything he couldn’t verbalize yet. The alarm on his cell phone began to sound off. We both groaned.
“I do not want to do this. Can’t we just stay in bed today?”
“I’d love to, but you’re needed at the Rader, and I have to pay the rent on this magnificent abode.” He patted my cheek lovingly.
I sat up, my insides churning up with equal amounts of affection for Sal and worry over our future. After turning off the alarm, Sal sat on the edge of the bed, his head and shoulders up and straight, his back strong. I placed a hand to the middle of his back and felt the muscles roll like a gentle tide. He drew in a breath as if he were going to say something, but then he just let it out and pushed to his feet, his gaze coming to me over his shoulder.
“I’m going to get some food together,” he said. “Why don’t you shower first while I cook?”
“You have a good bedside manner. I bet your orderly patients are super happy to see you walk into their rooms. I know I am,” I told him, and saw a smile—a real one—light up his face.
“You make me really happy, August.”
He bent down to kiss my forehead, but I tipped my head to make sure his lips landed on mine. It was a brief and chaste kiss, but it held promise. A nice warm ember of adoration rested in the middle of my chest. Even after he’d left, for like two minutes, I felt a little giddy. I really liked loving and being loved, although my ass was not quite as happy about the loving as the rest of me.
Warm air whistled around the arena. I stood with my hand on the roof of my car, staring at the barn. We had a game in two hours. My life fucking rocked. My cell vibrated in my front pocket. When I saw who it was, my day got that much better.
“Mom, hi there!” I grinned widely as I admired the arena. “I know I haven’t called in a couple weeks. I’ve been super busy.”
“I know, August. We just worry when we don’t hear from you. Dad says to tell you he’s got both the laptops set up for the streaming shows.”
I had to smile. It must have been quite the to-do for them to get two laptops up and streaming. My mother had trouble figuring out how to make Spotify work right, and my dad…well, he was even worse, if you can imagine.
“You two are getting so tech-savvy.”
She giggled at that comment, then started talking about things in Martens Bay, my dad’s blood pressure, her sore hip, and how she wished they would stop making her shows come on so late.
“Who can stay up past ten at night?”
“It’s tough, Mom,” I replied with as much empathy as possible.
Being in their seventies with a twenty-two-year-old son was hard on them. Not as hard as it had been when they were in their sixties and I was in my teens. My time with them was limited. Maybe I should be honest with them about who I was. And then there was Sal. It would take years to get them to understand everything about him and me and the disease we both now lived with.
“Mom, when the playoffs are over, I want to come home and talk to you about my future.”
There was a pause. “August, are you leaving hockey to sell bottled water to city people?”
“I, uh, what?” I lifted a hand in a wave as Dan Arou pulled in beside me.
“Remember June Masterway’s son left hockey to sell bottled water to all those city people in Montreal?”
“Mom, Dudley worked for a bottled water company after he left the game,” I explained, my sight locking with Dan’s as he walked around his car to me. I mouthed “Mom” and rolled my eyes to the clouds. Arou smiled, then leaned on the fender of my Mustang. “This has nothing to do with hockey. It’s more personal things that we need to talk about.”
“Oh, well, okay, as long as you’re not leaving hockey to sell water.” The worry had left her voice, so that was good. Sheesh. My folks.
“Mom, I have to go. Coach Dewey will want to talk to me and Mitch before the game. Miss you. Love you. Tell Dad I love him too.”
“We miss you too, honey. Goodbye and good luck in the game. We’ll be watching!” She made kissing noises, then ended the call. I pocketed my phone. Dan was smirking at me.
“She still kisses me goodbye,” I sheepishly confessed. “She’s such a mom.”
“Hey, no need to explain. My mother still thinks I had a hand in the making of Victor’s kid,” he said with a shrug of a shoulder. “Sometimes it’s best to just go along.”
I chuckled at that, and at moms in general, as we walked into the Rader. Coach Dewey must have been waiting for me, because I was no sooner in the door than he appeared, his jaw firmly set. I think his glasses added to the look, but still, his mouth looked like a paper cut.
“Feeling better today, Miles?” Coach asked.
I knew a chewing out was at hand, and rightfully so. Coming in
sick with a hangover during playoffs? Yeah, not the smartest thing I’d ever done. Dan slid around me, leaving me and my goaltending coach alone in the corridor. Male voices bounced off the walls.
“I’m sorry about yesterday, Coach. I don’t know what happened.” Honestly, I did, but his dark look was unsettling.
“Oh? You don’t know? Well, how about we give you the night on the bench to reflect on what you might have done wrong? That way, when you show up for drills you’ll have a good grasp of where you went astray.” He crossed his arms over his 60s-style suit.
My mouth dropped open. I snapped it shut. “I understand. Thank you for the discipline, Coach.”
He jerked his buzzed head in the direction of the dressing room. Seeing that I was dismissed, I moved cautiously around him, then stepped into the madness of the Cougars dressing room. I flung my duffel bag into my cubicle, then dropped my ass onto the bench. Should I have argued about the benching? No, probably not. That’s never a good way to handle a disciplinary action. Better to take it like a man and learn from it.
“Augie, man, I can’t believe he benched you for going home sick,” Mitch said while dropping down to sit beside me. “Seems pretty extreme.”
“I was hungover.”
“Oh.”
Yep. We all knew that was not acceptable. “Yeah, so, you go out there and win this game for us.” I slapped his shoulder, and then we started gearing up.
Ugh. Sitting out this game would suck. And my folks had been so excited too. I threw a wadded-up sock at Mario when he walked past, just because he had made me go. Yeah, I know. He hadn’t poured the beer down my throat, but hitting myself in the head with a sock would look weird. I did it anyway.
Sitting on the bench is tough. I’m competitive. I want to play. I want to win. I also understand why discipline is needed on a team. A miserable voice inside my head kept pointing out how unfair life was. As if I needed to be reminded. Sitting with a ball cap pulled down low on my forehead as my stand-in made himself a brick wall had been a vile pill to swallow. Pity his amazing play hadn’t gotten us a win. I’d put on the face of a happy team player while the press grilled Mitch about that one fumbled save. A fat rebound that had ended up sliding around his skate. We’d known that our opposition was desperate not to fall three games behind. Maybe we’d been a bit too cocky. Whatever it was, the team had faltered and the series was now 2-1.
