Slow Dances Under an Orange Moon (Colors of Love Book 4)
Page 9
“No, fuck no!” He growled, pushing on me until I took a step back. I wet my lips and stared at him. “No, just…fucking no.”
“Okay, I can take no.” Something shifted in his gaze. The look that I knew so well crept up into his simmering eyes. “You want me to go?” He nodded shakily, but he was already reaching for me. “I mean, you’re saying you do yet your hand is sliding around my neck, so I’m thinking maybe you’re changing your mind.”
“No one has ever gotten under my skin like you did,” he confessed, and with a clean jerk, he had me tight to him again. This time I took his mouth with a bruising kiss which wiped away any doubt I had—not that I’d had any, but if I had—that this was meant to be. He grabbed my ass with both hands, fondled my ass roughly, and began humping my cock like a horny Pekinese.
“Christ, fuck…what the hell am I doing here?” He panted when I licked a hot slick path to his neck. Small bites right under his ear Yeah, there was the shuddering gasp that set fire to my senses. “Yeah, Jesus, fuck. God, you fucker.”
Then, without warning because he just might decide to end this, I dropped to my knees, opened his fly, and fished his dick out. His fingers worked into my hair, and he led me to his cock. I took as much down my throat as I could, my hands sliding up under the baggy legs of his shorts to rest on his thighs, the curly hairs at the base of his cock tickling my nose just as the soft hair on his legs was prickling my palms.
He tasted even better than I recalled. Salty sweet with sweat and the tang of hot man. I bobbed up and down on his dick, slurping and groaning at the explosions of tastes his precum left on my tongue. His hips began to move, pumping his dick down my throat. I looked up and his head was back, resting on the siding. His eyes closed as he fucked my mouth.
“Morning, boys!” Davy jerked me off his dick with a yelp of surprise and probably pain as my teeth grazed the underside of his prick. I shot to my feet and spun around, crushing a hen or maybe it was a chick, under my foot. There stood Stella Macklemore in her garden, waving at us with one hand as she held her straw sunbonnet to her gray head with the other hand. “Just got home a little bit ago and needed to tend to the garden!”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Davy muttered as he zipped his shorts.
“Welcome back! I weeded a bit for you while you were gone so things should be good. Bet you have some giant summer squash about ready!” I shouted, stepping out of the flower bed now that Davy had his dick back in his shorts.
“What good boys you are! I have cookies in the oven. Come over in an hour and we’ll catch up!” Stella called and made her wobbly way to her tiny garden patch.
Davy and I said we’d be over soon then slipped into his basement, sniggering like we were sixteen again. Being with him made me feel all kinds of things: young, silly, powerful, capable of taking over the world as long as he was at my side.
“You think she knew what we were doing?” he asked, leading me into the cool, darkness of the full basement. Not much had changed down here. Still the old mowers scattered about, a chest freezer, and an old couch, and TV set. Must be Mr. Aguirre still came down here to enjoy the Saranac Lake Surge games and smoke an occasional cigar while nursing a beer.
“Doubtful. Dunny said her eyes are as bad as her arches.” He stalked around the basement, agitated and obviously still erect. I wet my lips and grabbed him on the next pass, pulling him to me, kissing his neck and rubbing at his groin. He melted into the hot moment, his lips yielding to my insistent tongue. “I want you to come in my mouth.”
“Kye, this is stupid.” I grabbed his cock through his shorts, squeezing the long shaft. “We need to talk about things…fuck, that’s just right.”
“I know what you like, remember? It was me who introduced you to oral sex. Hell, it was me who had his cock in your ass first. You remember that?”
“Yeah, yeah, I do. You came before you were even in me right…ah, hell, this is fucking stupid!” He grabbed the back of my neck and jerked my mouth tightly to his. We pawed at each other, sucking and licking into the mouth of the other.
“God, fuck, up here. No, turn around. Yeah, shit.” He scrambled to the top of the freezer, his pupils blown out, his breathing ragged, and fumbled with his zipper. We both got his shorts and boxers off and dropped them. I fell over him, tasting his mouth and sucking his nipples as he writhed and rolled his pelvis into me. “You want me in you?”
He blinked, lust fogging his thoughts. The tip of my tongue made a pass over his plump lower lip, and he nodded. “Say it. Say it so you hear it coming out of your mouth.”
I jerked my fly down, freed my dick, and somehow managed to wrestle my wallet out of my back pocket. One condom, one packet of lube. I laid them on his stomach, knees growing sore already. You’d think freezer manufacturers would pad the top of their products in case some horny gays wanted to rip off a hot fuck on the lid. I’d send off an email to one of them in the morning.
“Yes, yes, fuck me.” That was all I needed to hear. I had my dick wrapped and slicked and poised at the entrance of his tight hole before a person could whistle Jimmy Crack Corn. “Now, now, Kye, do me now.” I thrust hard and deep. He arched up, wanton as the last time I’d been inside him, and ten times as beautiful. “Oh fuck!”
“Lay back there and let me fuck you,” I growled, pressing a hand over his heart to plaster his back to the freezer lid. A fluttering exhalation escaped him. He grabbed at my arm, locking his fingers tightly around my wrist, and then he squeezed my cock with his ass. That might have been the straw and camel moment. I lowered my head and began pounding away, his back catching and squeaking along the freezer top. Balls slapping, freezer driving into the rolling tool chest, his dick leaking all over his belly, I leaned over him. The tiny puddles of precum cool on my heated stomach, and I kissed him with tongue and teeth and years of pent-up desire for him.
“Oh shit, shit, just…shit,” I huffed, my balls drawing up. A white ball of pleasure detonated at the base of my spine, and I ground into him. He took it all with slick hot shouts that spurred me to go deeper and deeper. He stroked his cock a few times, tugging hard at his engorged cockhead, then came all over himself. Watching him jerk off as my dick jumped inside him fired off another round of teeth-clenching shudders. “Shit, shit…Jesus…Davy, holy hell.”
“Ah, ah, yeah, ah fuck,” he whimpered, stroking his dick hard and fast. I inched back a bit and captured his mouth, hot cum and cold sweat smeared between us. I lapped at his lower lip, sucking on it and then moving into his mouth to sweep deep and long.
“Mm, sweeter than any memory,” I whispered into his open mouth. His muscles began to go lax, and my knees began to complain loudly about the workout they’d just had. “You okay?”
“Sure…fine.” His eyes drifted shut. I kissed his eyelids then pulled out and wiggled my sticky ass off the top of the freezer. As soon as my feet hit the cool cement floor my old, battered knees cried out in agony. “Ouch, fucking hell.” I grasped the freezer to stay upright until the ache in my knees lessened. Davy lay silent and breathless behind me. When I was sure my legs would hold me, I removed the condom and then stood there with it between my two fingers looking for a suitable place to dispose of it. “Trash?”
“Christ, man,” he said then rolled off the freezer. I caught him as his legs looked a little gelatinous as well. “What the hell did we just do? On top of my parent’s freezer? Where they keep all their meats?”
“Well, I fucked the sense out of you is what we did. So, yeah, your ass is welcome. What do I do with this?” I waved the condom around. His eyes widened.
“Put it in the trash can over there,” he snapped while stepping into his boxers. “That was so fucking stupid. Why did I let you do that?”
“Because I’m fucking adorable.” I padded to the big blue can, lifted the lid and went to drop the condom into it. Davy raced over and yanked the trash can lid out of my hand.
“No don’t just drop it in there. Hide it in something so they don’t see
it.”
I folded my arms over my chest and threw him a dry look. “What are we, sixteen again?”
“There! Grab that banana peel and we’ll hide it inside that.”
I so wanted to slap him. “No, I am not hiding it inside a rotten banana peel.”
“Then take it back to the studio. Go.” He shoved me to the door then out into the blistering sun. I was blinded by the brilliance of the day, and my knees were still greatly upset with the whole freezer loving thing. Seemed Davy was as well. “Get your damn sperm and your cute little goose egg search talk and go back home. You’re a fucking menace to my mental well-being!”
“You started it and now you’re mad at yourself because you know you still love my dick in your ass, but you hate to admit that I’m the only one for you, but I am and we both know it so why don’t you—hey! Don’t you slam that door in my face.” I stared at the weathered door for a few seconds then began to grin. “Okay, it’s fine. You hide in there and tend to your mental well-being. But keep in mind you were begging for me to give you more and faster, and you even yelled that I was the best lay you ever had.”
“Never said that!” he shouted through the door.
I chuckled. “You were thinking it. So, dinner soon?”
An enormous pregnant pause. “You have two roots?”
“Damn right I do.”
I heard his sigh all the way through the door and did my goal scoring celly punch the air dance. Yes! I had charmed and fucked him right out of his reservations.
The door opened and there he stood looking divine and rumpled and flushed from the fine fuck he’d just gotten courtesy of yours truly. “I’ll pick you up. Seven o’clock. Don’t be late.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” I stole a quick kiss and began strutting in reverse, his gaze and mine locked.
Sampson came out from behind the rhododendron, saw us, and charged. Davy slammed the door and the goose turned on me, honking and flapping her wings. She chased me around the pond, dirty condom in my hand, all the way up and into the studio. The only thing saving me from a good ass pinch and wing flog was the sliding glass door. “Ha! Fuck you, goose.” She gave me a stink eye long neck glower for a moment then marched off regally, looking rather proud. I flipped her off, flushed the condom which had lost most of its contents during the mad gallop around the pond, and slid into the shower. After I was clean and smelled like summer rain, I fell into bed, fan blowing on me, and drifted off to sleep happier and lighter than I had in an incredibly long time.
“Dunny, the goose is a goose not a gander.”
“Oh bullshit,” he replied and tried, yet again, to wiggle away from my tidying attempts.
“Nope, really. She’s built a nest in the Aguirre’s flower bed,” I calmly informed him as I helped him tug a clean T-shirt over his head. We’d just gotten him shaved and bathed. He was having a bad day today and was easily flustered and irritated. Perfect day for Dolores from the aging agency to be coming over. Not. I still felt that she was pissed at me for missing both previous appointments. “I was thinking of going back to where you got her and see if they had any fertile eggs. Would you like that?”
“I had eggs for breakfast. Stop pulling on me! I don’t want to sit down.”
“Dunny, you have to sit down so we can get your socks on. Dolores is coming today to see how you’re doing and check on the home repairs, remember?”
I gently led him to his bed. He sat but he wasn’t happy about it. These bad days were rough, not just for me but for Dunny as well. It concerned me how he could go for weeks and be fine and then wake up and be in this fog. Dementia was a horrid bitch. Sadly, I knew far too much about brain illnesses. I’d seen a few of my friends in the league suffer with CTE after they’d retired, and it broke my heart. I’d been fucking lucky during my playing days. Only one serious concussion but I’d probably dealt out a few. That was a burden I carried with me daily.
“Did you see my goose?”
“Yep, she’s on the pond. Chased a stray cat for a quarter mile, poor puss.”
“Ha! That bastard won’t be pissing on my tires today! Are those my socks?”
“Yep, they’re new ones. All your old socks had holes in them.”
I knelt down and winced. Christ my knees were achy today. It was a good pain though. Like when you throw out your back fucking. Yeah, it hurts, but it was worth the pain. Having Davy under me, clawing and begging for more, that was worth creaky, pained joints any fucking time.
“Rose darns my socks. Take the old ones to her,” he said. I glanced up and saw, maybe for the first time, how old he was. I mean, I know he’s old but he’s so damned cantankerous and sharp-witted most days you tend to forget he’s got some disease taking over his brain.
“Will do, Dunny. But for now, we’re donning new socks and slippers.” I wiggled the sock over his foot and up his thin calf. He fell silent as we dressed his feet. Getting him down the stairs was a slow process. I’d been giving serious consideration to one of those chairs that old folks sat in and rode up the stairs. “How would you like a chair to ride in?”
He paused halfway down the stairs, wobbling back and forth, to glare at me. “I don’t need no fucking wheelchair!”
“Not a wheelchair, a lift chair that would carry you up and down the stairs.” He jerked away from me and almost went ass over tin cups. If I’d not been right there he’d have rolled to the bottom like a ball. I threw my arms around him to steady him and made the decision about the lift chair right then and there. Heart thumping in my chest, we got him down and settled in the living room with orders to sit and stay. I turned on the TV and went into the kitchen to turn on the coffee pot. Two minutes later, the knock on the door came. I hustled to the door and opened it wearing my most welcoming smile.
“Hello. I’m Dolores Kelly from the Agency on Aging.” She smiled at me through the recently replaced screen door. I opened the door and shook her hand. She was a woman of medium height, blondish hair, and a pudgy build dressed in a nice blouse and skirt outfit. She carried a satchel on her shoulder, big thing, leathery, that probably served as a purse and laptop case if I had to guess. What I knew about women’s accessories could be placed into a thimble.
“Nice to finally meet you. Sorry I’ve been so hard to nail down. Things have been a little topsy-turvy since I came out. Come on in. I have coffee on. Dunny’s watching Rambo but we can change it if you want.”
“Nope, John J. is fine.” She seemed nice. I led her into the living room, and she greeted Dunny warmly then sat down on the sofa while I went to find three mugs that weren’t too chipped up. When I rejoined them, she was questioning Dunny about his new slippers. She nodded pleasantly in thanks for the coffee. I placed Dunny’s in his hand then hustled out to grab my own mug, a white one with a gas station logo on it. Maybe I should buy new mugs in case of company?
“So, as you can see,” I said when I sauntered back into the living room, “the walls are all freshly painted. I’ve got the downstairs done and am going to start upstairs next. Carpeting will be next after I’m done with the painting. Maybe some new windows. These are older than me and work about as well.”
Dolores chuckled then returned to talking to Dunny. I sipped my coffee and didn’t interrupt again until she asked to see the rest of the improvements about ten minutes after arriving. We walked into the kitchen, and she turned to me.
“I’m happy to see someone here helping him out. He seems particularly disoriented today. Can you tell me how often he has these severe days?”
“Not often. Maybe once or twice since I’ve arrived. Usually he’s pretty sharp but today he’s kind of lost in the past.”
“That happens. I think he’s fine here as long as he has someone tending to him. He said he’s selling you Rose’s studio for a million dollars?”
That made me snigger. “Well, he’s asking a million, but we’re in the haggling stage at the moment.”
“Oh, so he was seriously asking a million! What a pis
tol he is. I’m sure he’ll come down in price. He loves having you here. He told me you bought him socks and goose eggs and that you check in on him every day and you remind him of Rose. Can I see the rest of the improvements now?”
“Sure, yeah.” I was touched that Dunny had spoken so nicely about me. Sometimes it was hard to tell if the old goat liked you or didn’t. Dunny watched us walking through his house. Dolores was totally behind a lift chair for the stairs, and even suggested a special recliner for Dunny that would slowly ease him to his feet. I added that to my shopping list. The visit was really pleasant and after an hour Dolores left, and I sat down on the sofa.
“That went well. I think I might get someone out here to check the roof before winter. And the plumber is coming out tomorrow to see where that leak in the wall is. Are you okay with all that?”
He rubbed at his smooth chin. “Ayup, long as you’re paying.”
I reached over to pat his bony knee. “I’m paying. We’ll get this place good as new before the first snow flies, no worries.”
“Rose hates the snow. Did you see the goose?”
I sighed and told him about the goose eggs again. Maybe he would remember and maybe not. Since he was in such a confused state, I tossed aside my plans to go to town and hung out around the house to begin painting the upstairs bathroom. Dunny napped on and off during the day, becoming a bit unruly as night settled. He insisted on going to the studio to talk to Rose. No matter how many times I told him Rose wasn’t there he doggedly denied my claims. So, around dusk with little less than an hour for me to shower, shave, change into nice clothes, and get my charm on, I was escorting Dunny to the studio instead of preparing for my date.
When he was settled in the main room, talking to himself or perhaps Rose about the watercolor of the pond on the far wall, I slipped into my bedroom and called Davy.
“Hey, I’m going to be late. Dunny is having a really bad day.” I peeked around the doorjamb. “He’s talking to Rose…I think.”