New Tricks

by J. D. Light

  My dick throbbed, and I had no doubt pre-cum was already oozing out into my underwear, but if it was, our bodies moving together was keeping it warm and undetectable. His hand slid along the back of my head, his short nails lightly scraping the super short hairs, making my head tingle pleasantly.

  I brought the hand I'd been bracing on the back of the couch down to his side, still holding a lot of my weight on my arm under his shoulder as I slid his shirt up along with my hand, enjoying the way his soft skin quivered beneath my fingertips, and he whimpered against my mouth.

  I heard the distinct sound of the back door in the kitchen opening hard enough for the wood to bounce off the counter next to it, followed by Nancy hollering my name like she always did, and I swear I growled, pulling my mouth away from Jefferson's and dropping my forehead to the space between his face and the couch, tempted to just start screaming my frustration into the batting.

  "This can't be fucking happening again," I groaned. "Does she have a fucking camera system set up or something that lets her know I'm about to make a move on you?"

  Jefferson was stiff beneath me, but when I pulled back, he had both lips pulled in between his teeth, and his eyes were dancing with amusement as he slid his arms back around placing his hands on my shoulders.

  When I didn't answer, Nancy must have thought that was her cue to yell louder, which made Jefferson start laughing, even as he pushed me away and attempted to sit up.

  "Damn it, Nancy," I yelled back at the woman through the wall as I sat up, giving him room to stand. "Your timing is terrible."

  Jefferson blushed, but there was a small smile on his face as he rolled his eyes.

  "Don't yell at me Byrum Rodgers." A cabinet door slammed, and I imagined she was probably putting the groceries away with all the noise she was making. "You aren't too old for me to take a paddle to."

  When Jefferson snickered and turned to head for his room, I snagged his arm, pulling him back in and pressing a small peck to his lips. "I'm taking her fucking key away," I whispered just for his ears before raising my voice and looking in the direction of the kitchen. "I'm forty-three."

  Hell, she was only about ten years older than me. Her brother had been two years above me in school. I didn't even think she could be considered my elder.

  "Don't sass me either."

  Her stern tone and the fact that Jefferson eased his arm out of my grasp while trying to hide his laughter, made me purse my lips in a pout and cross my arms.

  "Yes, ma'am," I grumbled watching Jefferson walk off for a moment, before reaching down and adjusting myself for mine and Nancy's sake, and then heading into the kitchen to help her put away the groceries.

  Chapter Five

  I barely had the door shut before I was fumbling with my pants and shoving them down around my ankles. I tripped my way to the bed, apparently not coordinated enough to simply step out of my pants while walking at the same time. I managed to get them off of my feet quickly followed by my socks before falling into the bed and scrambling to get out of my shirt and press my back against the headboard.

  I gasped at the feeling of my own hand as I wrapped the fingers of my left hand around my dick and squeezed lightly. Pre-cum was smeared over the head and just below my belly button, and another drop oozed from the slit.

  Usually, I didn't masturbate left-handed since I was a righty, so the grip was a little odd, and it took a little more concentration to get the pressure right. The first stroke was awkward, but it was enough to make my eyes roll back in my head and my toes curl.

  I licked my lips, tasting Byrum there, and I moaned, giving another awkward stroke. I needed lube, but even the slightly jerky movements of my left hand stroking my shaft felt too good to stop. I swiped my fingers over the head of my dick gathering the continuously leaking pre-cum and using it to help a bit with the glide.

  Spreading my legs, I reached between them, with my bandaged hand, lightly cupping my balls, and rolling them around, making them tighten and pull close to my body, and I moaned, my strokes increasing and becoming a little clumsier.

  I grunted, starting to get frustrated. I needed more, but my left hand didn't seem to want to cooperate. The closer I got, the less control I seemed to have of my limbs and the rhythm of my strokes was choppy.

  I was so fucking close, I knew just two or three strokes with my right hand would get me there, but even with the gauze in place, the stitched cut on my palm would no doubt throb painfully if I tried.

  There was a slight knock on the door before it cracked open and Byrum's head poked inside, startling me. I slammed my legs closed, throwing two hands over my dick, my eyes wide and my breathing harsh.

  His eyes widened and he eased inside, watching me the entire time. He shut the door and then locked it, his eyes moving over every inch of available skin… which was pretty-much fucking all of it.

  "What are you doing?" he asked, his eyes locking on where my hands were doing their very best to cover my bits and pieces.

  "Nothing much." I readjusted my hands, no doubt flashing him more than a little of my stuff as I reached over and gripped the edge of the blanket, and tried flipping it over my lap, unfortunately, when I'd made my bed earlier, I'd tucked the bottom of the blanket under the mattress, so the tug I gave it did nothing, but serve to jerk me sideways making me fall onto my side and expose my ass to Byrum. Scrambling, I wrestled a pillow out from under myself, and rolled, back into a sitting position while dropping the pillow into my lap, and reaching up to let my face fall into my hand as I groaned.

  "You didn't lock the door," Byrum said, his voice sounding a bit closer like he was moving further into the room, and I whimpered, feeling exposed.

  I peeked up at him, from between my fingers, finding him smirking down at me from the end of the bed, and I flopped in defeat, closing my eyes again. "Go away."

  How the hell had I failed to lock the door. Sure, I'd been in a hurry to get my hand wrapped around my dick since I'd been pretty flipping close to spilling in my pants just before Nancy walked in, but I almost always clicked the lock in place when I shut my door, because more often than not these days, I was retreating to my room to do exactly what I'd retreated to my room to do tonight. It should have been a freaking habit by now, and instead, I was getting caught like a fucking fourteen-year-old newb, completely naked and sprawled on my bed with all my junk exposed and the damn door unlocked.

  He chuckled, and I felt the bed move slightly by my feet, making me once again open my eyes. He was still at the foot of the bed, but he was leaning on the mattress, his hands braced against the blankets on either side of my calves, his dark eyes looking almost endless in the low lighting… and hungry.

  "You sound frustrated," he said huskily, slowly reaching out to run his hand up the inside of my lower leg to my knee, his thumb dipping to the sensitive skin behind, and rubbing back and forth lightly, making goosebumps run up my thighs. "Having a hard time?"

  I licked my lips, swallowing hard and looking up and down between his mouth and his hand. "How am I so fucking uncoordinated with my left hand?" I asked on a choked whisper, making him smile before he stood, dragging his hand down my leg as he went.

  He moved around the end of the bed to the side, his motions slow and smooth. He was still in his jeans and T-shirt, only having taken off his boots and socks when we first got home, and then kicking back on the couch while I'd gone to my room to change into something more comfortable.

  His shirt was untucked, so I couldn't see if his body was affected by this in any way, but the look in his eyes was hard to put off as anything but lust. He sat on the side of the bed, next to my hip, leaning over me and bracing his hand on the other side of me easing in close.

  "Need help?" he asked, when his face was inches from mine, and Lord help me, I did. I desperately needed help.

  "You want to help?"

  His hand came up, gently landing in the center of my chest, and I gasped, my skin tingling as he lightly skimmed his fingers over to
my nipple, brushing it lightly with the pads of his fingertips.

  "I always want to help you," he whispered, leaning in to sip at my bottom lip softly.

  His touches were light and gentle, leaving my skin buzzing everywhere, and when he licked at the seam of my mouth, I shuddered, parting my lips so he could dip inside, while his hand moved across to the other nipple, and he scraped it with his fingernail.

  I moaned, reaching up and gripping the sides of his head in both hands and pulling him closer, delving inside his mouth with my tongue.

  He tasted like the sweet tea Nancy always swore she was going to stop making for him when he made her mad, but she always showed up with it. It was hard as hell to say no to Byrum Rodgers. The man was just so damn charming.

  I gasped when the pillow was swept away, and then Byrum was pulling back and climbing to his knees on the bed before pressing my legs apart and then climbing between them. He gripped my hips and jerked me down the bed until I was lying flat on my back with my legs spread around him, my entire body on display.

  The light was getting low outside, but there was still plenty shining through the open curtains for me to see the way he devoured my body with his gaze. It moved over me, cataloguing everything while lust contorted his expression deliciously.

  If I doubted his want for me before, I couldn't now. His body was wound tight and his eyes only left me briefly as he reached down, grabbing the hem of his shirt and quickly stripping it off over his head. The bulge in his pants was evident now through the worn denim, and my dick jumped happily at the sight.

  Oh Lord, don't let me die yet. I have so much I wish to accomplish.

  I bit my lip, leaning up slightly to reach out and run a hand over the beautiful dark skin, lightly dusted with even darker hair. "This was why I fell in that fucking water trough," I whispered, watching him shudder when I ran my hand over one of his dark nipples and watched it pebble beautifully.

  He didn't answer, but I was sure he already knew, since Rudy's big mouth had given a lot away. I didn't care though. He was on his knees before me, looking hot as hell, and letting me touch him. How the hell could I even worry about anything?

  When my hand skimmed down the center of his stomach, he sucked in a harsh breath and then moaned when I cupped him through his pants, pressing the heel of my hand against the long, thick rod.

  He groaned, letting his head fall back while I stroked him a few times, before snatching my wrist and growling, practically shoving me back against the bed and then pinning first that hand and then the other to the mattress right above my head, coming down on top of me and pressing our chests together. His jeans were worn enough to be almost soft as he settled his hips between my thighs, forcing them open as wide as they would go.

  I moaned, pressing my head back into the pillow and arching against him as the hard planes of his body pressed into mine and our skin almost felt like it was on fire.

  He pressed his face to my neck, taking a long, deep breath before rasping his scruffy jaw against my throat, causing a delicious burn I knew would be bright red before long. He wasn't even moving against me, just pressing down enough to put pressure on my dick, but I could already feel myself priming as it jerked, and my balls tightened.

  He pressed his open mouth to my neck just below my ears and I shuddered, whimpering. He sucked hard, no doubt drawing up a lovely hickey, but I couldn't care. I just didn't have it in me to worry about anything beyond the way my body was singing beneath him as he did nothing more than lie on top of me, and kiss and suck on my neck.

  Pulling back, he looked down at the spot he'd been sucking and grunted his approval going back in for more. When he finally released me and pulled back, levering back up to his knees, the air rushed in, cooling the smeared abundance of pre-cum on my belly, and I looked down at my poor, poor dick, watching it pulse with need.

  When I looked back up at his face, he was once again looking me over like he was starving for my body, and I whimpered, biting my lip and wishing I could reach down and grab my dick, but I was pretty sure I was less than a full stroke away from blowing, so I fisted my hands in the blankets at my sides instead, tightening my ass cheeks and rolling my hips, my body seeking the friction it needed desperately.

  His hands moved to his jeans, and he groaned, biting his lip as he eased the zipper down, the flaps bursting open on their own. His dick was at an angle, since it was far too big to be hidden by the short stretch of denim between his inseam and the band at the top, so I couldn't see much more than the dark nest of curls peeking above his boxers as I avidly watched, wanting to see more of him.

  He reached down into his boxers and hissed when he wrapped his hand around his dick and pulled it into an upright position, making a good portion of it poke out over the band, and I groaned, tightening my ass cheeks again and involuntarily punching my cock up toward him.

  "Mr. Rodgers is a weak little bitch," I whispered unthinkingly, my sole focus on watching as he slid his jeans and boxers down a little further in the front, letting me see just how right I'd been.

  He froze for a moment, raising an eyebrow at me with one of his hands wrapped around his dick and the other low on his muscled stomach. "Did you just call me a little bitch?" he asked, a small laugh escaping as he blinked down at me."

  "What?" I asked, a little confused by the question as I watched his abs flex with his breathing, the motion mesmerizing.

  He gave himself a long, slow stroke, wringing pre-cum from the head. "You said I was a weak little bitch."

  I licked my lips, wishing I could taste the clear drop glistening there on the tip of his dick. "Hmm?"

  He didn't answer, so I pulled my gaze away from the fascinating sight of his hand slowly working him, rolling the words around in my head. "No, I didn't. I said Mr. Rodgers was a weak little bitch."

  He raised both eyebrows and nodded very slowly, like I was being an idiot. "Yes, Jefferson, and I'm Mr. Rodgers, remember?"

  I blinked at him for a moment before I realized what the hell was going on, and I blushed hard, chuckling and shaking my head. "No. I didn't mean you."

  That did very little to assure him, and he narrowed his eyes, falling to his hands and bracing himself over me. "Then who is Mr. Rodgers?"

  I blushed even harder as his face hovered inches from mine and I glanced over at the drawer, biting my lip in embarrassment. "He's uh… something I bought… to help with…" I swallowed hard, then rolled my eyes. "It was something I bought to help when I didn't think I could have this," I finally whispered, meeting his intent stare, and then quickly looking away in embarrassment.

  He gripped my face in one hand, turning it to force me to meet his gaze and not look away. "Oh, sweetheart. You have no idea what imagining that does to me," he whispered, before releasing my face and bracing his hands on either side of my shoulders and lowering himself down on top of me.

  Our dicks notched together, and I groaned, rolling my hips for more friction while reaching up to run both of my hands from his hips, around to his ass, sliding them beneath the jeans that were already only halfway covering the firm mounds.

  I groaned as his hips tilted, and his ass flexed in my palms. The pre-cum leaking from my body quickly enough to possibly dehydrate me, lubed the way as he started to move, gently at first, pulling his hips back enough to add a little of his own pre-cum to the delicious slide.

  I was already so close, I honestly wasn't sure how I was going to make it. His body felt so good pressed to mine and under my hands as I continued to dig my fingertips into the flesh of his ass and back. I moved my hands around on his body like a crazy person, wanting to touch every inch of him.

  He grunted appreciatively when one of my fingers slipped into his crack by accident, and he pulled back meeting my gaze again before his eyes latched onto my mouth. I dipped my finger into his crease again, and he groaned, leaning forward and capturing my mouth as he rolled our bodies together with little grace and pure abandon. A tingle raced the length of my spine as
I brushed his hole with my fingertip and we both cried out at the same time, moving together in stuttered pulses and our combined seed pumped from our dicks between us as he gasped into each other's mouths.

  We went limp, and though he was a bit heavy and I was having a hard time breathing, I wanted him to stay right where he was forever.

  It felt like I was melting into the bed, and I wasn't sure if I'd ever been so comfortable in my life, or so happy. If there was a time, I honestly couldn't remember it.

  ***

  Strong arms were wrapped tightly around my waist and chest from behind when I woke up, and I bit my lip to keep from letting out an excited yelp at the realization that I hadn't completely made up what had just happened earlier in the evening.

  Byrum Rodgers, the man I worked for, the man who had taken me in when I had nothing, the man who'd become my closest… and only friend, the man who had the patience of a freaking saint and treated everyone he knew like they were family, the man with the sweetest brown eyes and the most beautiful chocolate skin, the man whose body was the envy of men half his age, the man whose smile had lightened the pain in my heart on more occasions than I could count on all my fingers and toes over the short month that he'd been a part of my life, the man who out-thought everyone, and even conned me into putting my feet under his thigh for my comfort, and the man I'd been in lo… Anyway! He'd kissed me. Not only had he kissed me, he'd given me the best orgasm I'd ever had in my entire life, and he'd enjoyed it just as much as I had.

  How the hell was that even real? And how the hell could I make it a thing that happened regularly?

  Another thought hit me, and my stomach sank. What if he regretted it? What if that had been a one-time curiosity for him? And, when he got to thinking about what had happened and he started to feel guilty...