by Jo Adler
“After you, handsome,” he says, sweeping his arm in a grand gesture. “I want another glimpse of that hot ass.”
The reception area is outfitted with sleek black lacquer benches, a trio of potted fig trees and a curved reception desk made of tempered white glass. A fuchsia orchid sits atop the desk like a lone sentinel watching over the empty room.
“Where’s your office?” I ask.
He nods toward the corridor on the left. “At the end of the hall. Would you like to see that first?”
“If that’s okay,” I reply.
He takes my hand and we walk the length of the corridor in silence. My head pivots from side to side, admiring a collection of stunning black-and-white photographs of landmark buildings throughout the city.
“Did you take these?” I ask.
Adam laughs. “In my youth,” he says. “When I was in high school, I was obsessed with Cartier-Bresson. These are from that era; I was convinced that my future would be traveling the world shooting candids of everyday people in the street. My family came to New York one summer and I spent nearly the entire trip shooting roll after roll of film.”
“Just like Monsieur Henri?”
Adam’s face blazes with a wide smile. “You’re familiar with his work?”
“Isn’t everybody?” I wink. “I mean, everybody that we care about at the moment.”
“That’s right,” Adam says as we reach the end of the corridor. “Back then, my aim was true, but I fell in love with architecture and design before my photographs went anywhere.”
He flicks on the lights to reveal a neat, clean space: vintage Chesterfield sofa and coffee table on one wall; a massive desk made from dark wood near the windows; a small conference table surrounded by sleek metal chairs. A long counter at the far end of the space holds stacks of thick binders, bolts of cloth and samples of hardwood flooring. The wall behind the counter is cork and it’s a tapestry of fabric swatches, photographs, sketches and handwritten notes.
“It looks like a magazine layout,” I say. “The classic lair of a talented artist.”
Adam laughs. “To be honest, I spend as little time as possible in here. I just thought that since we were so close to the office, you might like to see it.” He shakes his head. “Although hearing myself say those words makes it seem super cheesy.”
Before I can tell him that I like seeing his office, Adam takes my hand, pulls me closer and slides his arm around my waist.
“I’ve been waiting all night to do this,” he says. “You’re so incredibly handsome, Nick. I mean, seriously. And your sweet smile and gorgeous eyes and…”
He abandons the sentence to deliver a kiss that begins as a chaste peck but soon dissolves into tongues twisting and sliding and pressing together. When he moans and grabs my ass, I feel my knees start to buckle. He pulls away just enough to suggest that we move to the sofa.
“I have something in mind,” he whispers. “We can start with a little Daddy/boy role play, if that’s okay.”
“Yes, Daddy,” I say, shifting into my role. “How do you want me?”
He smiles. “On your knees, boy.”
While I sink to the floor, Adam unzips his khakis and drops them to his ankles. Then he sits on the edge of the tufted leather seat and points at his semi-hard cock.
“Make it rock hard, boy,” he tells me. “No hands, just your mouth.”
I flash a playful smile before putting my hands on his knees and leaning forward. I flick the head of his dick with the tip of my tongue. Then I move in closer, wedging between his thighs as I open my mouth as wide as possible. He gasps when I press my lips around his balls and suck them into my mouth. I hold them gently while sliding my tongue back and forth on his sack.
“That feels amazing, boy.” He growls at the bottom of his throat. “You’re making Daddy really proud right now.”
I work his balls for a few more seconds before slowly opening my mouth and letting them drop to the sofa.
“Now the rest,” Adam commands. “Daddy wants to feel your mouth make love to his cock.”
As I slide down his shaft, I feel my erection pressing against my jeans. The heat rockets through me, so I reach down, lower the zipper and start stroking myself.
“That’s nice, boy,” Adam murmurs. “How do you like worshiping my dick while you pump your own?”
I lift up, catching his glistening hardness in my hand. “It feels so fucking good, Daddy.”
He lifts his arms, grabs my head and forces it back toward his crotch. I open my mouth and take him inside again, swirling my tongue around the head before gliding along the length of the luminous shaft.
Between his hoarse grunts, the feel of him in my mouth and the increasingly brisk strokes on my dick, I feel like I could shoot at any minute. As if he’s reading my mind, Adam asks if I’m close. I open my mouth enough so he can understand me.
“Yes, Daddy,” I say before pressing my lips around the fat head of his cock again.
He exhales loudly. “That’s good, boy,” he says. “Your Daddy is, too. When I’m ready, I’ll tap your shoulder. Then I want you to stop sucking me and take me in your hands so I can shoot on my stomach. Then you stand up and splash yours onto mine so we can mix them together and taste the results. Can you do that, boy?”
“Mmm-hmmm,” I mumble.
The idea of tasting his hot cum while I’m still stroking my own dick pushes me closer to climax. I ease off on my grip, but keep sliding my fingers up and down while my head bobs between his legs.
“Now, boy!” Adam gasps after touching my shoulder. “I’m ready to—”
The rest was lost in a spasm of groans as I quickly open my mouth and surround his cock with both hands. It radiates waves of heat as I feel the base convulse and a gusher of creamy white cum shoots straight up before splashing onto Adam’s taut abs.
“Holy fuck!” I gasp under my breath. “That was fucking hot, Daddy!”
His eyes are open wide when I glance up. “Your turn, boy.”
I slid my hands away from his cock and get to my feet. As our eyes lock, I stand between his knees, working my fist up and down the length of my shaft, squeezing at the base and then leaning my head back as my balls tighten and the unmistakable tremors send a flood of velvety white goo through the air. It spatters on Adam’s stomach, mingling with his load.
“Very nice, boy,” he says, lifting one hand. “Let’s see how we taste together.”
I watch closely as he dips two fingers into the glossy puddle. My mouth falls open as he slowly lifts his hand and slurps the cum down his throat. That’s one of the hottest fucking things that I’ve ever—
Adam’s voice disrupts the thought.
“Sit down beside me,” he says, patting the seat with his unsullied hand. “It’s your turn.”
The leather feels cool on my ass as I join him on the sofa. The air is tinged with the distinctive aroma of our spunk. I inhale deeply as Adam guides the same two fingers—glistening with a fresh coat of cum—toward my mouth.
“We’re good together, boy,” he says as I clean the sweet and salty fluid from his hand. “In every possible way.”
24
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ADAM
I reach out and run my fingers through Nick’s hair as he stretches across the sofa in my office.
“Fuck,” he murmurs. “That was completely intense.”
I tousle his bangs again. “And far better than any fucking fantasy.”
He turns his head, flashing a quizzical grin. “Does that mean you’ve never done it in the sofa before?”
“Only in my dreams,” I confess. “And maybe my daydreams, too.”
His lips parts, allowing a chuckle to escape. “I hope this won’t sound too random, but that’s actually kinda surprising. I thought a hot stud like you has probably fucked on every possible surface at home and here.”
I shake my head. “Don’t judge a book, boy. I’ve definitely had my fun, as I’m sure you have, but I also have a code of conduct
.”
Nick grunts. “Well, that’s good to hear,” he says. “Because I already know that you have a code of misconduct.”
We share a conspiratorial laugh, both of us a little flighty from the sex and wine from dinner.
“Which is totally okay with me,” he adds. “According to my friend Dede, it’s all about the yin and yang.”
I put my hand over his beautiful cock. “Well, if you can’t tell already,” I say, “I really like both your yin and your yang.”
Nick’s brow crumples. “I’m being serious,” he says. “True happiness and fulfillment come from finding the right balance between yin and yang. It’s the same thing as…well, as opposites existing in the same time and place. Like life and death, light and dark or hot and cold.”
“What about cock and ass?” I tease.
He frowns. “How are those opposites?”
“Well, one is in front,” I answer. “And the other is in back.”
He contemplates the example for a moment. “I suppose that works.”
“And sometimes,” I add, “one fits into the other as perfectly as any other set of opposites in nature.”
Nick clucks his tongue. “I think you’re maybe talking about that code of misconduct again.”
I shake my head. “It’s not misconduct if both partners are on the same page,” I tell him. “Besides, I never misbehave.” I pause long enough to smile. “Unless, that is, my willing partner is down with the idea.”
“Oh, I’m down with it,” he replies with another husky laugh. “What we just did was the most fun I’ve ever had in an office.” He pauses. “And I’m including the time that my best friend and I smoked weed while we sat on the high school principal’s conference table.”
I shake my head. “You do have a wild side, don’t you, boy?”
“At least two of ’em,” he jokes. “One on the left and one on the right.”
I bend down and kiss his forehead. He looks stunning in the dim light; a handsome, irresistible buffet sprawled across the worn leather sofa. While he gazes at me silently, I lean toward his ear.
“You look good enough to eat,” I whisper.
Another smile brightens his handsome face. “Hungry again, Daddy?”
“Hmmm, you bet.” I guide my hand slowly down his taut abdomen. “I have a feeling that I’ll be hungry for a very long time if you’re on the menu.”
He flinches. “Meaning?”
I realize that we’re both thinking the same thing but reluctant to give voice to the swirl of excitement and fear and hesitation. Nick has shared enough with me about his most recent relationship to know that the wound is still tender. And I’m feeling the same way about Brent. While it’s been exhilarating to meet Nick, I also know that part of me is still hurt and sensitive and cautious. Other people may look at me and see a tall, rugged guy without a care in the world, but I can tell that there’s a tug of war going on inside between my eternally optimistic core and the bruised parts of my spirit.
“Meaning that I like you, Nick,” I say finally. “I like how I feel when you touch me. And how you respond to my touch.”
He pulls in a quick breath. “It’s so weird that you would say that. I was just laying here flashing back to a few minutes ago when I was leaning between your legs.”
“Hmmm,” I drone in his ear. “Your mouth felt incredible, boy, so hot and wet. At one point, it actually felt like you were somehow pulling me deeper into you with every movement.”
He issues a nervous laugh. “Well, you’re probably going to think that I’m some kind of freak, but that made me feel safer than I’ve felt in a very long time.”
“Really? Having my cock in your mouth made you feel safe?”
He sneers. “Not like that,” he says, sounding disappointed. “Although it felt fucking amazing! What I meant was the warmth and strength of you holding me. It really seemed like I could feel some sort of…I don’t know, some kind of electrical charge pulsing between us.” He looks away as his cheeks turn crimson. “See? I sound like a fucking lunatic, don’t I? Rambling on about that shit when most guys would only think about your fat cock and how hard you were as they sucked you in deeper and deeper.”
“But isn’t that what you wanted?” I ask, feeling a little confused by his remarks. “I clearly remember you asking me to go as deep as possible.”
Nick pushes up on one elbow so he’s looking directly at me. “Yes! Oh, fuck yes! I wanted to feel your power and worship your cock. No doubt about it. But I hadn’t expected the rest of it.”
“You’ve lost me,” I say. “Can you backtrack and help me to understand?”
He’s quiet for a few moments, nibbling on the inside of one cheek and taking a series of slow, deliberate breaths. When he finally clears his throat and lifts his chin, I’m half expecting him to tell me that it’s been a nice night but he’s had enough and is going to leave.
Instead, it’s the exact opposite.
“I want to see you again,” Nick says. “Would that be okay?”
Since I’m usually the one saying those words, I’m tongue-tied for a few seconds. But then I notice the look of panic on his face, and I’m filled with a deep desire to take him in my arms and keep him safe.
“What is it?” he blurts before I can open my mouth. “Did I say the wrong thing again?”
“Far from it, boy.” I bend down and press my lips to his for a lingering kiss. “Nothing is wrong,” I whisper. “Nothing whatsoever.”
A look of relief crosses his face. “Oh, good! I was afraid that maybe I was overstepping my place or messing up the role that you want me to play.”
I lean back. “The first thing that I want,” I tell him, “is for you to be yourself. I think it’s clear that we both enjoy Daddy/boy scenes, but it’s also nice to just be you and me.”
“But isn’t that what we’re doing?” he asks with a troubling frown. “I’m being me, and you’re being you.”
I smile. “Exactly! So don’t worry about whether or not you’re overstepping or anything of the sort. The more we get to know one another, the more we’ll figure out the dynamics.”
His forehead creases with worry. “So you want to see me again, too?”
I reach over and take his hand. “Definitely,” I say, peppering his fingers with light kisses. “I want to take you to dinner again. And I want to fuck you again. I want to see how we feel doing both.”
I watch his eyes spark with relief and joy. I’ve seen the twinkle a couple of times since we met, and it has an immediate effect on my heart and mind as well as my cock. I can feel myself swelling as I squeeze his hand tightly.
“One of my friends thinks it’s crazy,” he says. “Do you?”
“What are we talking about?” I ask.
“This,” he says. “You and me.”
“Because of the age difference?” I ask, already knowing that’s what he’s getting at.
He offers a nod, but doesn’t say anything.
Well, you know what I think about that?”
“What?” He blinks a few times. “Is it bad? Because if it is, I can handle it. I know that not every daddy wants to see a boy more than once.”
“That’s right,” I tell him. “And since this is the second time we’ve been together, you should know how I feel about that. I’m not denying that I’ve had my share of one-night stands or anonymous encounters, but I’m looking for something a little less frenetic.”
He grimaces. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“By less frenetic?”
“Yeah. Are you saying that you don’t want to just hookup anymore?”
I smile. Then I lift his hand and put it against my chest.
“Can you feel that?”
Nick laughs. “It’s really going to town,” he says.
“Because of you,” I say quietly. “And I hope that answers your questions about whether I want to see you again.”
He exhales with a soft moan. “I’ve been so worried about saying
any of that to you. I mean, we just met and everything. But it went even better than I hoped it would.”
“Did you have doubts?” I ask.
He smiles. “Not any more.”
“That makes two of us,” I reply. “And before I forget, you mentioned earlier that you wanted to ask me something.”
The gleam in his eyes dims instantly. “Oh, yeah. But that can wait.”
“Are you sure?” I glance at the clock on the desk. “I have another half hour before the Honolulu call.”
“It’s cool,” Nick tells me. “We can talk about it another time.”
“Then it’s settled,” I say.
“What’s that?” Nick asks.
“I want to see you again,” I say. “And so do you. How about Friday night at my place? We can walk to another one of my usual spots for dinner. I mean, as long as you like Japanese.”
He smiles. “It’s one of my favorites.”
“Perfect,” I continue. “After dinner, if we’re up for it, a friend’s having a house warming party at her new place in TriBeCa. I promised that I’d swing by for at least one glass of wine.”
“That sounds fun,” Nick says without a speck of hesitation. “As long as you think that your friend will be okay with me being there.”
“Are you kidding?” I say, giving him a light punch to the shoulder. “She’ll love you!”
“Then it’s settled,” he says. “Friday night for dinner and your friend’s party. What time should I come by?”
“Eight or so,” I answer. “I’ll make reservations for nine.”
“Wow,” he says after a moment or two. “That’ll be, like, three times in one week.”
“And you never know,” I reply, going in for another kiss. “Maybe next week, we can aim for four.”
25
▬ ☼ ▬
NICK
When Richard answers the phone, I can hear a vacuum whirring in the background and someone singing an old Madonna song.
“What’s going on over there?” I ask. “It sounds like your cleaning person’s a little off-key.”