by Alex Silver
“Oh, hell,” I moved one hand to the back of his head, needing to touch him as he worked my dick. The sight of his head bobbing on my shaft had me seconds away from shooting far too soon. I tugged on his hair and he locked eyes with me without pausing in his ministrations.
He looked debauched with my dick in his mouth, lust and desire clear in his gaze. He pulled back, using a fist to keep pumping my dick so he could talk.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Don’t want it to end yet.”
A wicked smirk curved his lips, “Who said anything about it being over? This is the amuse-bouche.”
“That so?”
“Yeah. Now, quit stalling and fuck my face,” Chad’s mouth sliding onto my dick drove any coherent response right out of my head. He made eye contact as he went back to sucking my brains out through my dick. It didn’t take long before I was coming down his throat and clinging to the kitchen counter to stay upright.
Chad worked me through my orgasm. He gave me time to catch my breath before planting one last—almost chaste—kiss on my dick.
“Good?” he asked, it wasn’t quite a tease, as if he genuinely expected critique when I was still floating on orgasmic bliss.
“Huh? Yeah. Very good,” I reached for his face, my fingers just brushing his cheek. He turned into the touch. “Come here, let me kiss you.”
He stood, biting his lip. His nerves were back in full force.
“What’s wrong?” I put a finger to his lips, tracing the soft skin. His tongue darted out, tasting me. On impulse, I pushed my finger past his lips and he sucked for a second, sending tingles of pleasure right to my spent balls. I groaned. He let up on the stimulation, releasing my fingers.
“Ready to head back?”
I grabbed his hand to stop him when he made a move toward the cab.
“What’s the rush? Don’t I get to reciprocate first?”
“Do you want to?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
Chad fidgeted, at a loss for words, he crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head, mouth open, nothing coming out.
“Do you not enjoy getting head?” I resisted the urge to scoop him into a comforting hug. I suspected I might need a clear head and space for this conversation.
“Dunno.”
“You don’t know?”
“Never had much chance to try it.”
“But…” I trailed off.
No way had he learned to deepthroat without giving more than his share of head. I might have a biased opinion, considering that having an enthusiastic mouth on my dick felt fantastic regardless of skill level, but still, Chad had experience. He must.
“But what?”
“I’m not the first guy you’ve blown.”
“No.”
“And none of them offered to return the favor? What kind of assholes have you been dating?”
Chad blew out a frustrated breath. “Some of them offered. Dysphoria is bullshit, okay?”
“Okay. Care to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“Do you want a hug?” I leaned my hip against the counter and opened my arms wide. It was a good thing I’d braced myself because Chad took me up on the offer. He buried his face in my neck and clung to me. I squeezed him tight, letting him take a moment to gather his thoughts. Long moments passed with him in my arms.
“I enjoy sucking cock,” he mumbled into my neck, so quiet I almost couldn’t make out the words.
Then he pushed away. I let him take a step back, though I longed to keep touching him.
“I’d noticed. For what it’s worth, you’re good at it.”
“Practice makes perfect,” Chad shot me a teasing grin, then sobered, not quite meeting my gaze. “I guess if we’re doing this, we should discuss the dysphoria elephant in the van?”
“Sure, I’ve told you I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, Chad.”
Chad took a deep breath before he spoke.
“I don’t like it when the guys I’m with comment on how different my junk looks. I get that it’s small, but I can’t afford surgery to make it look more cis, even if I wanted it. Also, I don’t pack. Having something in my pants is just a constant reminder of what isn’t actually there.”
“Okay. What does that mean in bed?”
“I’d prefer not to have you focused on it during sex. Like with getting blown, maybe it feels great, but the one time I tried it left me so freaking dysphoric I swore I wasn’t going there again.
“I’d rather fuck, or get fucked. Or rimming is okay, I think.
“I’m not cool with using my front hole. At all—ever. I’ve had a hysterectomy, so no chance of you knocking me up, I just don’t like going there. Anyway, it’s uncomfortable to even try these days, since it’s atrophied after years of being on T.”
“Got it. So, you’re all about the butt stuff? Do you have like a prosthetic to fuck me with?”
“Darling, I have an entire collection of dicks for you to choose from if you want to get fucked.”
“What’s your preference?”
“Vers, for sure.”
“Same, so, would sucking you off while you wear one of your dicks be something you’d want to try?”
“Not sure how I feel about that. Might be hot to watch you swallow my cock. Most guys aren’t super into the taste of silicone though.”
“Eh, that’s what flavored lube is for, right? Anyway, it’s not like I suck cock for the flavor.”
Chad chuckled at that, “I dunno, you taste fantastic.”
“You think so?” I leaned in close.
“Yeah. Better double check though. Just to be sure.”
Chad closed the distance, kissing me again, long and lazy.
When we broke apart, he gave me a soft smile.
“You don’t even know how much I’ve been wanting to fuck you.”
“Let’s get back to the dairy so I can take out the partition and you can show me your vaunted cock collection then.”
“Can’t decide which one I want to get inside you first.”
“Hmm, well, I guess we’ll just have to try them all.”
THIRTY-FOUR
Chad
The drive back seemed to take twice as long with my dick rock hard in my pants. I stroked myself off while I was sucking Daniel’s dick earlier, but it wasn’t enough. I needed more.
My last serious relationship had ended after my college graduation. I’d only had sporadic hookups since. There had been a brief period where I’d fallen into a cycle of letting chasers pick me up on apps.
For them, sex with me was a novelty. I hadn’t cared so long as I got off. But that got old after a while and since most of the novelty revolved around using parts I wasn’t cool with, I’d stopped.
Now that I’d found someone who saw me as an actual person with my own wants and needs, I wanted to try everything. Like a kid at a dessert buffet, I was ready to glut myself on everything Daniel had to offer.
I parked Vanessa in our usual spot near the haunted barn. Daniel wasted no time going to work undoing the row of latches that held the partition in place to separate the bed into two bunks. It was down in minutes.
I took the partition around to the back to stow it and get out the extra foam Dan told me he kept behind all the paranormal gear. In my haste, I dropped the EM meter on the ground. It bounced closer to the barn with a loud clatter. I winced, hoping I hadn’t broken it.
Destroying Daniel’s stuff would put a damper on the mood. He was so into his gear. I retrieved the foam first, passing it up to Daniel where he sat perched on the bed, his casted leg at an awkward angle.
“Here, want to get that in place?”
“On it,” he took the narrow strip of foam to wedge back into place.
I turned to pick up the meter. It blinked to life as my fumbling fingers hit the power switch. For a moment, relief surged through me at finding it still worked. Then the screen lit up and the little meter spike
d a reading, beeping an alert.
Daniel looked up at the sound.
“What’s up?”
I lifted the meter, “Sorry, the fall must have messed up the settings or something. It seems to be on the friz,” I shivered in the evening chill. Weird, it had been a pleasant evening when we left the restaurant, but now it was cold enough that my breath fogged in the air.
“Cold spot,” Daniel said. I noticed his breath was not fogging, even though he was only yards away in the back of the van. Still, Vanessa had heating and insulation. It made sense that it was warmer inside, even with the rear doors standing wide open.
“The meter says it’s forty degrees out here.” That must be wrong. The thermometer on the van’s dash had read as sixty-seven degrees earlier. Not hot, but the temperature couldn’t have dropped so far so fast. I toggled it to EM mode, hoping it that would stop the buzzing alert sound.
I shivered more violently. The cold seemed to sink into my bones. I thought I heard someone moving toward me from behind and a primal fear gripped me. I spun, pointing the meter toward the open door to the stable. The meter squealed with another loud alert.
“EM fluctuations. Grab the IR camera,” Dan already had his cell phone camera trained on me. I assumed he was recording the EM meter’s beeps and the visual evidence of the temperature.
I wanted nothing more than to get back inside with him, but I reached dutifully for the camera in its protective case. Good thing I’d been setting it up every night all week, I was familiar with its operation by now. It only took moments to have the camera on and aimed into the empty stable.
Dark and empty and not hiding any horrors. I hit record and almost dropped the damn thing as a colorful image in the shape of a man loomed in the center of the shot. If I could believe the camera, he was standing a few paces from the barn door.
It wouldn’t take more than a handful of running stride for him to get close enough to stab me with the pitchfork he held in his left hand. Something gave me the sense that was exactly what he intended to do. I took a step back.
“Oh. Damn. Hell. Shit. What the—fuck. Daniel? Fuck. What—”
The figure’s face distorted. On camera, the colors flashed into a different hue and then the thing moved toward me. The creak of boards echoed as though bearing a man’s weight.
Now that I knew where to look I could just discern the faint outline of a person when I tore my eyes from the display screen. The weapon the figure held glowed with an eerie light all its own.
I wasn’t waiting around to confirm the threat was real. I did my best to keep the IR camera aimed behind me as I turned tail and fled toward Vanessa.
Dan pulled the rear doors closed, and I dashed for the side door, slamming it shut behind me.
Something heavy slammed into the van behind me, rocking it. Then a wave of intense cold burned against my back. I was still holding the EM meter, pinging for all it was worth to alert us to supposed spirit activity.
Dan had two cameras out, one trained on my face, the other angled toward the meter.
“You okay, man?”
“Yeah,” I said, my voice more shaky than I would have liked. Then the cold faded, the meter dropped from max activity to nothing. And the sense of dread released its hold on my guts, leaving only relief. My heart was pounding like I’d just run a marathon.
“Oh, my god. I just saw a ghost. An actual, real life ghost.”
“Seems that way.”
Daniel stopped recording and put the camera on the bed. He slid down to approach me. I couldn’t seem to make myself move from where I crouched against the door.
“Fuck. Damn. I… fuck, Daniel, they’re real? A bitter old man who hated his brother-in-law enough to attempt killing his whole family haunts this place for real? A murderous ghost just tried to kill me. Shit.”
“Breathe,” Daniel reached for me and I flung myself into his arms, clinging to his warmth like my life depended on it. He rubbed my back, soothing touches that dispelled the lingering chill.
“Relax, let me hold you, you’re freezing cold.”
When I felt a little more steady, I pulled back and attempted to crack a joke.
“That was scarier than being chased by a rabid raccoon.”
“Ghosts can’t give you rabies, so there’s that,” Daniel pulled me toward the bed. “Let’s get you tucked in and warmed up.”
I let him guide me to the bed. Without the partition it seemed huge, almost king sized at a guess.
“Raccoons don’t wield rusty spectral pitchforks covered in god knows what. I seem to recall you calling me less than a year ago to get an early tetanus booster covered for a puncture wound from a haunting.”
“I stepped on a nail, spirits don’t often stab people, scary as some of them can be. He probably couldn’t have hurt you with it.”
“Probably?”
“Well, nothing is ever certain. Most of them can’t interact with physical reality—not much, anyway.”
“He was interacting with the floorboards enough to make them squeak.”
“Right, I said much. I’m sure the boards squeaked when he was alive, just a projection of his memories of how things were back then.”
“And when he was alive, the man wouldn’t have allowed trespassers on his property. Oh god, I almost got stabbed by a ghost.”
“You’re safe now. I grounded Vanessa. And I might have laid down salt along with the insulation, you know, better safe than sorry and all that. Haven’t had a spirit inside the van since.”
“Did you before?”
“Once, but I’ll tell you about it another time. I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night. Get to sleep.”
He pushed me toward the bed again and I climbed up, expecting him to follow. He didn’t. Instead, he waited until I’d covered myself in the blankets I’d been using in my cozy bunk, squeezed my foot and said, “Rest now. I’ll join you later.”
I didn’t think I could rest after the night we’d had. I was still horny from fooling around in the restaurant parking lot. But the crash of the adrenaline draining from my system had me out like a light within moments of my head hitting the pillows. I just wished I had Daniel’s warmth snuggled up against me.
THIRTY-FIVE
Dan
Once Chad fell asleep, I retrieved the gear he’d left in a careless heap on the floor. With any other assistant, his disregard would have pissed me off. The gear we needed for the show was not cheap.
Under the circumstances though, I cut him some slack. Not just because he was my boyfriend, or might become my boyfriend soon. His first undeniable encounter with a vengeful spirit had him freaked out.
Not lecturing him on the proper care of our gear had nothing to do with exchanging special treatment for sex. It was just basic decency. I had nothing to feel guilty about. No reason to avoid crawling into the big bed we’d planned to fuck in and curl around him as he slept off the fear of the encounter.
I glanced at him, his features softened in sleep. There would be time to cuddle later. For now, I wanted to see the footage he’d captured.
Before I knew it, hours had gone by and I’d completed a first pass on the footage from both cameras.
Chad had captured just under a minute of useable footage. He’d gotten an amazing clear shot of the ghost focusing on him. Then a few seconds where it leveled the pitchfork at him and started to charge.
From there the image was a jolting upside down blur of motion as he ran. Still, I gave him credit for holding onto the camera and trying to keep rolling even as he fled in terror. I’d make a proper cameraman of him yet.
My footage wasn’t as exciting. I got a good steady view of the EM meter going mad, and a brief zoomed in image of the readout display on my phone’s camera. The quality wasn’t perfect, but I would make it work with the other footage.
Chad’s breath fogging the air mere meters from where I sat comfortably in a tee-shirt added a nice touch of detail to the cold spot reading. My crappy cell
camera didn’t pick up much more than a lens flare where the ghost had stood.
I’d seen more detail with my naked eyes, still Chad’s encounter with Higgs would be perfect for the final video in our series. I figured it would work well after the scenes with Leon and the re-enactment of his childhood run-in with the ghost.
I considered pulling up the master file I’d been working on to add in the new spliced footage. A glance at the clock deterred me. It was almost two in the morning.
I shut down the computer. Chad laid cocooned in the blankets on the bed. I dug out a light spare from the shelf above the cab to avoid waking him. I needn’t have bothered. As soon as I crawled into bed beside him, Chad snuggled up against me, seeking my body heat and clinging to me like a limpet.
Despite my exhaustion, I stayed up staring at the ceiling for far too long. It was only a matter of time before Chad baled.
He hadn’t taken the existence of ghosts well. Any relationship between us was doomed to failure if he couldn’t handle the paranormal.
For that matter, hadn’t the ghost proven that we didn’t have set hours? Thinking it was possible to separate our work from our personal lives was a delusion. In the dark, with him snuggled into my arms, I couldn’t bring myself to say our relationship was wrong though.
I tried not to think about it, fretting wouldn’t change what we’d already done. We’d crossed a line tonight. It was impossible to return to just being his boss. My only real option was to enjoy this while it lasted.
I’d have time to miss Chad later. After he left. I wished things could be different with him though.
THIRTY-SIX
Chad
Daniel was up before me, sitting at his editing console with a mug of coffee at his elbow. I was pretty sure he’d joined me in the bed at some point last night. I had a hazy, half-dreamt recollection of snuggling into him and feeling warm again for the first time all night.
Part of me wanted to coax him into rejoining me to indulge the morning wood I had going. I wanted to finish what last night’s paranormal encounter had interrupted. But he was working, and we’d agreed to keep things professional in the light of day.
