Surrendered Victory

by KC Kendricks

  "Drove my ex-wife crazy when I did this,” he commented with a grin.

  It was clear I could join him on the couch or remain standing. The decision was mine. I took a breath that did nothing to ease my taut nerves and took up residence at the opposite end of the sofa. He didn't comment on my presence, not with words, gesture, or even a look. Instead, he started talking sports, a topic where I could hold my own.

  Two beers and a shot of bourbon on an empty stomach, coupled with the arousal bubbling low in my groin exacted a price. The world tilted nastily. I sucked in a deep breath to clear my head.

  "You need something to eat?"

  "Among other things,” I replied without looking at him.

  "What do you want first? A burger or other things?"

  "You're killing me with kindness."

  Dalton snorted and rolled to his feet. “Sit there and relax. I'll grill some burgers. Won't be fancy, but it'll help."

  I expected him to disappear into the kitchen. Instead, he leaned over me, his hands on the back of the sofa above my shoulders. My throat went dry as he paused, his face scant inches from mine. His gaze locked on mine, serious, concerned, and blazing hot with naked desire.

  I couldn't move, or even breathe. Never had anyone looked at me like that. Never. My very soul stilled, caught in an agonizing vise, with desperate longing on one side and numbing fear on the other. I stared up at him.

  His lips finally touched mine, gentle and seeking. The shock of his soft lips on mine coursed through me as unexpected heat swept my skin, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. My cock, surer about all this and already at half-mast, filled and lengthened. I did the only pertinent thing I could think of. I opened my mouth and licked his lips. Dalton touched his tongue to mine, and I almost came.

  One strong hand snaked up to cup the back of my head. His tongue swept into my mouth, demanding, searching, scorching. The aggression of a man on the prowl was there. I knew it on a visceral level. I tasted it as his teeth scraped my lower lip. Did he seek to lay claim to me? I suspected he did and nipped him back. Novice with a man or not, I knew some things about myself.

  If he sought to dominate me, he would first understand it would not be without concessions from him. His lips bowed against mine and opened in invitation. I delved into the delicious heat of his mouth. Our tongues mated and danced until I was breathless and, even then, I didn't want to stop.

  His hand dropped to my crotch, his fingers making a quick assessment of my package. I had nothing to be ashamed of there. Fully erect I topped out at a solid eight inches, but I was willing to bet I'd just hit a personal best, not that I was going to ask him to measure me.

  Dalton pulled away, something dark and unfathomable in the way he looked at me. I didn't understand, but suspected I might before the night was over.

  "We're pretty much the same height and build,” he said. “Why don't you go in my bedroom and find something more comfortable to watch the television in than your suit?"

  He straightened and moved on, I assumed to the kitchen. I stared dumbly at the television, seeing nothing, my mind blanked to everything except the fact Dalton had kissed me. Somehow I'd survived both the kiss and the stupidity of not putting my hands on him.

  I licked my lips to savor the lingering taste of him. Beer, bourbon, and somewhere between the pub and here, a cigarette. The scent of Old Spice lingered—it never smelled that good on me. Go into his bedroom, he'd said. I shivered at the very idea of walking into that room and seeing his bed.

  It seemed I had little choice. My feet took me to his Spartan room without my conscious permission. He hadn't been kidding when he said no work had been done on the room. The vaulted ceiling made up for the moderate floor space. The windows were bare, tucked up high under the eaves, and provided light with complete privacy.

  The queen-sized bed and matching chest of drawers were the only real furniture in the room. The thick, chocolate-brown suede comforter neatly folded down to the foot of the bed looked expensive, as did the linens. A shadeless lamp and alarm clock sat on an old wooden electrical wire spool, and a pair of old webbed lawn chairs were in the corner. The walls were primed, but not painted. None of it mattered—just the bed, on which I perched.

  Something more comfortable. What would that be? A pair of cut off blue jeans lay on the chest of drawers, as if Dalton had worn them last evening and planned to wear them again. Why not wear them? I stripped completely, underwear, too, then draped my suit over one of the lawn chairs. If it surprised him to find me running amok commando in his shorts, I'd assure him of my own surprise at doing it. The longer I traversed my Rubicon, the bolder I seemed to be. I pulled on the shorts. They fit perfectly.

  A perverse thrill shivered though me knowing my cock rubbed the same fabric his did when he wore the shorts with nothing under them. I got a firm grip on my libido.

  Like hell. It had a firm grip on me, and firm was a word that fit. Everything was firm.

  I did a bit of judicious snooping in his bathroom and found his condoms. My knees gave out and I plopped down in the nearest rickety lawn chair. What the hell was I doing? If my heart didn't stop pounding, I'd have a stroke. Or something. I splashed some cold water on my face when I should have splashed it on my balls instead.

  Then I girded my loins, figuratively speaking, and wearing nothing but a pair of borrowed pants, stepped boldly out to embrace my future.

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  CHAPTER 3

  Dalton stood shirtless in front of his gas grill, burger turner and one of those long nozzle lighters sticking jauntily out of his back pocket. Classically built with wide shoulders tapering to narrow hips, he sported well-defined muscles without excessive bulk. I doubted if he worked out. Just doing his job would keep him lean.

  His torso was tanned, but a shade or so lighter than his neck and arms. It was another telltale sign of a man who worked construction for his living. His chest was covered with dark hair turned bronze-tipped by the summer sun, much the same as the unruly brown locks he'd sported six weeks ago before the September heat wave hit and he'd found a barber.

  I was envious of the nice pelt that spread across his pecs then trailed down in a tail to disappear at the waistband of his jeans. I had a nice little patch of hair right in the center of my chest, but I'd always wished for just what Dalton had. It seemed more, I don't know, male somehow.

  He talked to someone I couldn't see from my vantage point, safe inside the kitchen. He bent over and clapped his hands. A small, furry mutt bounded out of the gathering darkness and dropped a ball at his feet. Dalton lobbed it out into the yard. I opened the door and breathed in the muggy evening air. He turned slightly, his eyes roving over me, top to bottom and back up with no comment on the state of my firmness.

  "Reed, the bugs are going to eat you alive,” he observed dryly.

  "That's what you think.” For some reason, insects rarely bothered me. “Your dog?"

  "Fuck, no. She's a nice little thing, though. Quiet, if you know what I mean."

  "I hear ya. Can I help with anything?"

  "Sure. Get a few cheese slices for these.” He waved his thumb in the general vicinity of the grill.

  I closed the door on the neighborhood mosquitoes to carry out my assignment. His kitchen was on the small side, not at all fancy, but laid out well. The door opened behind me as my builder's eye noted the quality of the materials used, but, for once, I didn't care. All I cared about was the heat coming off Dalton's body as his arms suddenly pinned me to the counter. His warm breath teased the fine hairs on the back of my neck raising gooseflesh across my skin. I closed my eyes, waiting, wanting him to close the gap between us.

  His lips touched the softer skin where my neck joined to shoulder. My head fell forward in unspoken invitation for him to continue to do as he willed. I didn't need to breathe, nor did I need to stand. If my knees gave out again, we'd be laying down much faster, and that was okay with me. The coolness of the ceramic tile floor might feel
good right about now.

  I leaned back against him, my bare back to his bare chest. My cock pulsed strongly. My aching balls drew up tighter to my body. His hands grasped my hips, holding me firmly to him. His erection was rock hard between us. I reached back and laid my hands on his hips and pressed my ass to his cock—the first time I'd ever touched a man with any such intent. My own body responded forcefully. The blood pounding through my veins deafened me. I was so hard, so ready, I teetered on the verge of begging him for relief of any kind. He kissed the back of neck again, sighing, then moved away.

  I turned and leaned on the counter, watching him, unsure if he'd changed his mind about the evening or not. Maybe showing a “virgin” the ropes was more than he'd bargained for. The corner of his mouth twitched, forming a smile. I'm sure my mouth dropped as he dipped his hand down the front of his jeans and rearranged the very prominent bulge to a more comfortable position.

  "I had to do that, Reed."

  I shrugged and did some rearranging of my own. He grinned and shook his head. “I meant I had to kiss you again."

  "Then you'll understand I have to do this.” I ran my hand up his arm, grasped the back of his neck, and pulled him to me. His pupils flickered. His eyes closed and so did mine as our lips touched and the world reeled around me again.

  His strong arms clasped me to him as his fingers dug into my ass to keep my hips firmly pressed to his. I deepened the kiss, teasing his mouth, nibbling his lower lip until he groaned and thrust his tongue into my mouth, forcing me to behave. I pinched the small hard pebble of his nipple. He pinched my ass in return.

  My body came alive in a way I'd never known, every cell, every molecule focused on Dalton. He drew me closer only to ease his embrace, then pull me to him again. The heat in my belly coiled, like a loaded spring waiting for a trigger. The hard planes of his torso, the crisp texture of his chest hair scratching lightly against my bare skin sent waves of self-awareness through me.

  This had been the missing element in my sex life—to hold male strength and male power and feel it tremble in its longing for my touch. The need spiked to have my own strength tested to different limits with no apologies. Dalton pulled away, resting his forehead to mine.

  "Slow down, Reed. You need to take this in small steps."

  I doubted it. My skin itched on the inside where I couldn't scratch it. He could reach it, of that I was certain. I shook my head. “I've waited too long for this to slow down, Dalton. I need to know."

  "You know.” He kissed me again, his lips bowed in a little smile. “You'll thank me later for insisting you're fed before we fuck our brains out."

  I snorted and slipped my hand between our bodies to finally cop a feel. I moved my palm up and down over the hard ridge of his cock, which meant I also rubbed myself. So many things I'd never considered. He was right. We were pretty much the same build.

  "Hmmm. Keep that up,” Dalton murmured in my ear.

  "Right.” I swallowed hard. “I'm giving myself a cheap thrill, too, you know."

  "We have just enough time to get you off and still salvage the burgers, if that's all you want."

  "No. It's not all I want.” I stopped moving my hand. I'd had opportunity to be nothing but a rutting buck several times in my life and it had never been what I wanted. I'd walked away. Hell, who was I kidding? I'd run away. Some people might consider it a severe handicap, but I needed to have some sort of connection with anyone I planned to let suck my dick.

  That didn't mean I wanted to fall in love, not really. A completely different matter, love. Love found you, not you, it. If you went looking, love vanished like the mist.

  Dalton flashed me a lop-sided grin and let me go. He didn't speak, just grabbed a plate and walked outside to rescue the burgers from certain incineration. I hastily rummaged for a few cheese slices—my original errand a lifetime ago—and delivered them to the grill. A few minutes later we sat down at his table to eat the crispiest, driest, most delicious burgers I'd ever had.

  "How's your swelling now?” Dalton asked, a wicked gleam in his eye.

  "I still don't know what you're talking about,” I replied, giving him a look of my own. “I'm sure it was hunger induced."

  He laughed at the double-entendre, and I wondered how many hearts he'd broken in his younger years. Curious, I asked how old he was.

  "Forty-three. How old are you?"

  I told him he had me by ten years. He laid his hand loosely over mine. I noticed for the first time the slight indentation on his ring finger.

  "So why did you wait until now, Reed?"

  "I don't know. Maybe I hoped the urge would go away.” The fact he'd worn a ring for so long gave mute testimony he understood.

  "Now you don't think it will?"

  He seemed to have a lot of questions all of a sudden, but I guess he liked to know some things about anyone who planned on sucking his dick, too. “No. I know it won't."

  His fingers closed around mine. “You can still leave, no harm done."

  I shook my head. He was wrong, but I wasn't going to point it out to him. Something inside me had shifted. He leaned over and kissed me again, a light brushing of his lips across mine. Arousal cracked through me, whip-like. The breath clogged in my throat. My cock twitched and lengthened, swelling full and hard. My chest tightened, an alarming sensation I hoped would pass quickly. We were down to it.

  Dalton placed the dirty dishes in the sink and ran some water over them. I wondered if I'd share the coffee with him as I watched him load the brewer for the morning. He turned to me, and I saw all the fire in him carefully banked down, held in check. He knew what I only guessed.

  Whether the greater powers of the universe held men like me in contempt or not, I offered up silent thanks that Dalton had a compassionate streak.

  He held out his hand. I took it and he pulled me out of my chair and led me down the short hall to his bedroom. He flipped on the bathroom light and pulled the door closed far enough to only allow a sliver of light to shine into the bedroom. Rooted where I stood, between a lifetime of fantasy and flight, I embraced the dimness with gratitude. My nerves stretched taut, I feared I would shatter.

  He came to me, put his hands on my shoulders and squeezed, shaking me gently once. “Relax."

  "Right.” To say more would force my brain to choose between speech and consciousness and I simply didn't have the blood flow that far north for decision-making.

  Dalton's hands trailed down my arms, less than a caress but more than mere compassion for the strange brew of lust and fear that held me. Then he put his workingman hands on my chest and touched me, his fingertips carefully learning the ridges and planes of my torso. He stepped behind me and ran his thumbs up the sides of my spine, ending with a quick massage to help ease the tension in my neck. I jumped when his teeth nipped my shoulder. Far from hurting, the sting sang a siren song to my cock.

  He spoke so softly in my ear, his voice low and rough, that I marveled I heard him above the pounding of my heart.

  "Trust me, Reed. Tonight is for simple things. I want to fuck you in the worst kind of way, but maybe not tonight. You set the pace. Just relax and enjoy. Okay?"

  I nodded, relieved and yet disappointed. I wanted to fuck him, too, and in my ignorance wondered how much of a problem that posed for him since he wanted me. His hands slid around my waist, down across my hips to grip the inside of my thighs.

  Arousal shrieked through me. As I pressed firmly back to him, his hands held me to his pelvis, his cock pressed firmly into the cleft of my ass. Something gave way within me. I'd let him fuck me. I wanted him. I rocked into him, and he grabbed me. I tried to turn, to shove him to the bed. His balance was too good. He didn't budge.

  "Slow down,” he urged me breathlessly.

  I couldn't.

  I bucked wildly against him, but his strength at least equaled mine. His arms tightened like bands of steel around me, holding me, forcing me to be still. I couldn't breathe. Sweat trickled down my chest. I hung
on the verge, riding the knife-edge of impending orgasm. I fought my way back to sanity, struggling to hold on to his words, “Slow down."

  I longed for so much more than a quick fuck, a fast easing of the need demanding release now. I'd be cheating myself, and him, if I didn't get a grip on myself. The red haze lifted from my mind.

  Damn, but my balls ached.

  I laughed, sort of, as I relaxed into him. He eased his hold on me, and I sensed his relief that I'd come back from the edge of insanity—so he could send me there again.

  Dalton unzipped my pants, let them fall, and wrapped his long fingers around my shaft, his grip firm. He stroked me, rolling the tight skin all the way over the glans. I'd waited my entire life for the touch of another man. I soared.

  "I'm cut, too, if you're curious. Is this all you want?” Dalton purred in my ear.

  "Curious” was too mild a word when I wanted to strip him naked and give all eight inches of him a very clinical examination. Other than my own I'd not seen an adult male cock fully erect, except in photographs and that didn't quite do it for me. I was intensely curious.

  I shook my head. It most certainly was not all I wanted. His slow strokes had me ready to beg, and I would have if I'd known what I wanted most, besides everything.

  The arm he held me with dropped away and he fumbled with his zipper. I laughed breathlessly as he teased my ass while pulling down the tab. His pants joined mine on the floor. His stiff cock pressed into the dark crevice of my ass where his fingers had just teased. I tensed, unsure if he planned to fuck me standing here, or just tease me until I passed out from lack of orgasm. He released me, leaving me bereft of his heat, even though I was drenched in sweat.

  He smacked my ass with some force. I yelped in surprise and rounded on him, ready to show him if he wanted to play rough, he'd better take it as good as he gave it because I could give it. He grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and took my mouth. My protest at being struck evaporated. I plastered my body to his, dug my fingernails into his ass cheeks and boldly teased him as he had me. Dalton dropped to his knees in front of me and took me in his mouth.