by K. L. Hiers
“Isn’t it supposed to?” Tom asked, inhaling shakily.
“Not like that. Not yet.”
Tom took a deep breath, his skin buzzing faintly. He took another as he tried to will the tension in his body to ease. He focused on Cypress’s hand on his ass, warm and firm, rubbing in lazy circles.
There, one more breath, and he was starting to finally—
Cypress’s hand jerked back and slapped Tom’s ass.
The force was enough to make Tom jump in surprise, and the quick tingle of pain tore a gasp from his lips. Cypress’s hand quickly returned to start rubbing where it had just struck, and Tom melted into his soothing touch.
The exchange of pain and pleasure happened so quickly that it made Tom’s head spin. His cock was painfully hard, and the lick of shame crawling up his back wasn’t enough to dissuade it. This was okay, he could enjoy it, it was gonna help him be good.
“Good?” Cypress asked quietly.
“Yes, sir. I want… please do it again.”
Cypress’s hand came down with more force, and God, Tom moaned. This one was hard enough to leave his skin stinging even as Cypress tried to rub it away, and he was overcome with a sweet rush of endorphins.
Again, Cypress spanked him.
Tom let out another loud moan, his hips unconsciously grinding into the counter to work off some of the building tension. “Oh, my God… fuck… Cypress.”
Cypress slid his hand inside Tom’s underwear, squeezing his bare cheek. “You’re doing so well, Tom. Such a very good boy. I think you’re ready for some more, hmm?”
“Yes, sir,” Tom replied eagerly, smiling as Cypress pulled his boxers down. He’d always been shy about his body, secretly wishing he could lose the youthful pudge from around his hips and his stomach.
He didn’t even like undressing with the lights on at home, and here he was, ass right out in the middle of Cypress’s flower shop. Maybe it was the way Cypress was groping him so greedily or the hungry gaze currently fixed on Tom’s backside, but Tom actually felt sexy.
He had never experienced a rush like this, an intense cloud of euphoria that was better than any lay he’d ever had. It was like coming, except he hadn’t popped off yet, and what he could feel building had the potential to be mind-shattering.
Cypress grabbed Tom’s hip and swung back, his hand snapping across his ass with a loud and satisfying smack.
The sound of bare skin colliding was fantastic, and the first real taste of pain made Tom’s knees buckle. He bowed his head down on the counter, breathing through the following throb. He could feel his pulse thudding away in his sore cheek and his dick, begging, “Yes, that, please, spank me again.”
Cypress growled, digging his fingers into Tom’s cheek before slapping his ass again. “There you go. Just like that. Good boy, such a very good boy.”
Tom’s hips hit the edge of the counter, his hands scrambling over the smooth surface for something to hold onto. He managed to grab the far edge, arching himself up. “I’m good,” he whispered, chanting it over and over again. “I’m good, I’m so good.”
Alternating between brutal spankings and gentle rubs, Cypress’s hands never quit moving for more than a few seconds. When Tom didn’t think he could handle another spanking, Cypress switched cheeks and began anew.
“You take it so well, Tom,” Cypress praised after a particularly hard smack made Tom cry out. “I bet you’d like it if I spanked your cock, too.”
“Mmmphhh.” Tom couldn’t exactly identify the sound he’d made but thinking about this delicious burning pain right there on his dick was ridiculously stimulating. “Yes, that, please. I wanna do that.”
“Easy,” Cypress cautioned, positioning himself behind Tom and reaching around to touch his dripping cock. “Gotta learn to walk before you can run.”
As Cypress’s fingers curled around the base of his dick, Tom moaned excitedly. He couldn’t believe how wet he was, and Cypress’s strong grip felt amazing. His orgasm was dangerously close, his balls tight and begging for release.
His cheeks felt raw rubbing against Cypress’s crotch, and the new level of sensitivity he was experiencing was addictive. He was there, right about to come. He could taste it, waiting for the rush to overtake him, and he hissed as Cypress suddenly stopped.
“Now,” Cypress whispered, his lips brushing over Tom’s ear, “you wanna be a good boy, don’t you?”
“I wanna come!” Tom begged, slapping his hand down on the counter. “Fuck! Please!”
“Only good boys get to come,” Cypress warned. “Do you think you’ve learned your lesson? Hmm?”
“I… what…?” All Tom could think about was coming, and he had no idea what Cypress wanted him to say.
“From now on, I expect you to let me know when you’re stopping by.” Cypress squeezed Tom’s balls, giving them a sharp tug. “Do you understand?”
“Yes! Yes, sir!”
“And I expect you to keep standing up for yourself,” Cypress went on, his fingers curling back around Tom’s cock and stroking him again. “You need to stop selling that formaldehyde shit, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Tom groaned, his breath coming in and out in short gasps as he felt his orgasm starting to build again.
“I don’t know how you got yourself into it, but it ends now,” Cypress ordered, jerking Tom off faster and faster. “I don’t date criminals, okay?”
Date—wait, Cypress wanted to date him?
The thought came and went as Tom got lost in his sudden climax, crying out as he came. His hips rocked erratically, his cheeks still burning, and the flood of pleasure made his vision blur.
“Good boy,” Cypress growled, withdrawing his hand and licking away Tom’s come. “Mmm.”
Tom nearly broke his neck trying to turn around to watch, captivated by every luxurious swipe of Cypress’s tongue. “Holy shit.”
“Good?” Cypress asked, dragging Tom up into a warm hug and kissing him deeply.
“So good!” Tom gushed, hugging Cypress’s neck. He went back in for another juicy kiss. “Definitely got me all come-stupid again.”
“It’s a good look for you.”
“Yeah?” Tom couldn’t stop smiling.
“Mmhm.” Cypress rubbed Tom’s back, his hands sliding down to gingerly palm his ass. “Feel okay? Wasn’t too much?”
“No.” Tom huffed out a short laugh. “It was… it was great. I’ve never…” He couldn’t quite bring himself to say it. “You know, this. I’ve never done any of this before.”
“I know,” Cypress soothed. “You’ll learn.”
“Don’t you wanna…?” Tom’s eyes flicked down to the obvious bulge hiding beneath Cypress’s apron.
“Is that you offering?” Cypress reached to palm himself. “Because I’m definitely not gonna turn down another taste of that hot little mouth of yours.”
“Fuck. Yes.” Tom dropped down so quickly he thought his knees were going to pop out of place. He pushed Cypress’s apron out of the way, watching him unbutton his jeans to free his thick cock.
As soon as Cypress presented it to him, Tom swallowed every inch right down without hesitation. He squeezed him, stroking upwards just to tease the edge of his foreskin before swallowing him to the base of his cock. Cypress tasted as good as before, and Tom loved how Cypress ran his fingers through his hair as he sucked him hard.
“Good boy, go on,” Cypress urged. “There you go… suck that cock.”
Tom got his lips good and wet to ease each thrust into his mouth, moaning when Cypress pulled his hair a little tighter. The pace was picking up fast, faster than before, and Tom closed his eyes as the head of Cypress’s cock began to slam into the back of his throat.
“Uh-uh,” Cypress grunted. “Look at me.”
Instinctively, Tom squeezed his eyes even tighter. He could feel that he was flushed, drooling, and tears were about to fall at any second from getting face fucked so hard. He probably looked ridiculous, and a coil of shame twisted
up in his belly.
“Look at me,” Cypress repeated, thrusting harder and giving Tom’s hair an impatient tug. “I wanna see those pretty eyes when you make me come. Come on… be a good boy.”
Good boy, yes. Tom wanted to be so good. He finally opened his eyes, blinking through the tears to look up at Cypress, and was immediately glad he did.
Cypress’s brow was wrinkled in concentration, his full lips parted and baring his teeth as he panted, and his eyes—God, those gorgeous eyes—were staring down at Tom with such affection and desire that he almost choked.
So distracted by the intense gaze, Tom did end up gagging a little when Cypress came. He swallowed quickly, greedily bobbing his head as he took it all while listening to a sweet litany of praise.
“Such a good boy, such a very good boy. You suck cock so fuckin’ good, fuck, I can’t believe you made me come so fuckin’ fast.” Cypress pulled out slowly, grabbing his dick and rubbing it over Tom’s lower lip.
Tom let his mouth hang open as he caught his breath, shuddering as Cypress’s cock played over the little cut Mrs. Dresser had given him. The pain was so far away, and he smiled from ear to ear. “Mmm… was I really good, sir?”
“You were amazing,” Cypress said, petting Tom’s hair and getting all zipped up again. He offered his hand to help Tom up, soothing the sting with a soft kiss. “Mmm, absolutely amazing.”
Tom pulled his scrubs back up, smoothing his ruffled hair. The pounding of his heart was beginning to return to normal, and he was left with a pleasant hum resonating all the way down to his toes. The satisfaction of pleasing Cypress was different than with any other lover, and he felt so damn good.
And yet in the wake of such bliss, uncertainty was creeping in.
“You do this a lot?” Tom blurted out.
“What?” Cypress grinned. “Extort hot young guys into having sex with me to keep silent about their illegal extracurricular activities?”
“I’m serious.”
“No, I don’t. I do enjoy dominating my partners, that I’ve done many times, but it has been a while since anyone’s caught my interest.”
Dominating… oh, that word conjured up the most sinful images of latex and whips, and Tom was equally enamored and repulsed. He knew people were into that, but he had never thought he’d be one of them.
“And as long I keep doing what you want, you won’t say anything? Right?”
“I also expect you to stop,” Cypress reminded him sternly. “What I saw? That was the last time.”
“It is,” Tom confirmed, surprised by how angry he suddenly was. He felt the overwhelming urge to argue, snapping, “But not because you’re telling me to. Because I want it to stop.”
“Oh, really?” Cypress arched his brows. “And how long have you been doing this, hmm? How many ‘last times’ have there been?”
“It’s complicated!” Tom spat.
“So complicated that you haven’t been able to figure out how to get out of it until I told you to?” Cypress pressed. “Or are you lying to me?”
“I’m not lying.” Tom gritted his teeth, reaching down to rub his sore butt. “It’s someone I work with, okay? I can’t get away from him.”
“Quit.”
“What? No. I’m not giving up my entire career because he’s an asshole.”
“But you’re willing to risk it by selling that shit?” Cypress countered. “So, do you really care about your job or are you too afraid to stand up to this douchebag?”
“What the fuck is your deal?” Tom groaned. “Just because I kinda like this whole ‘you telling me what to do’ thing doesn’t mean you get to just, just get all up in my business.”
“On the contrary,” Cypress declared, stepping back into Tom’s space, “that’s exactly what it means. And we both know that’s what you want.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” Tom whispered bitterly, hoping to sound defiant, but his anger withered when he looked up into those big brown eyes.
“No?” Cypress cupped the back of Tom’s neck and leaned in close. “I know if I told you that I wanna bend you over and fuck you on this counter right this very second, you would.”
“I’ve gotta go,” Tom said weakly, unable to revive his anger under the weight of Cypress’s words. He knew he was right. “I gotta get back to work.”
“Okay.” Cypress respectfully backed away and pulled out his phone. “Phone number?”
“Money first,” Tom argued, trying to regain his composure.
“Fair enough.” Cypress smirked, walking back around the counter to the register. He opened the drawer and retrieved the thick wad of cash.
Tom snatched it away as soon as he could reach it.
“Now, phone number?” Cypress asked again.
“Eight two seven, four three one three.” Tom waited until he got a text from an unknown number, reading the message out loud, “You have a cute butt?”
“Aw, thanks. So do you.” Cypress grinned.
Though he still felt a bit unsettled, Tom let himself laugh. “Fuck, you’re crazy.”
“That makes two of us.” Cypress kissed him, brief but sweet, asking, “Still on for Saturday?”
“Yeah. I’ll text you my address.” Tom hesitated to leave. “You still really wanna go out with me?”
“If you decided to walk out of here and pretend none of this ever happened, I would respect your decision,” Cypress replied, leaning his hip against the counter. “I would be disappointed, but I’m not going to force you to continue if you’re not genuinely interested.”
“Says the guy who’s blackmailing me,” Tom scoffed.
“Says the guy who actually wants me to blackmail him so he can enjoy himself without taking any responsibility or admitting how badly he wants it,” Cypress shot back.
“You… you… Tom flushed. “You shut your hot mouth.”
“Uh huh.” Cypress smirked triumphantly.
“I’m going now.”
“Goodbye, Tom.”
“Bye.” Tom quickly burst through the door, stumbling in his haste to get out to his car. He caught a glimpse of Cypress turning the sign back to open before he drove off, pausing at a stop sign to catch his breath.
Cypress was right, that beautiful bastard.
Tom had no idea what they were doing except he liked it, but it made everything so much easier if he told himself he was only doing it because he had to. Otherwise, he would have to admit that he enjoyed Cypress ordering him around, telling him what to do, getting spanked…
God, why was it all so hot?
Despite the pending dread of having to deal with Junior and the frustrations of trying to make sense of his new intimate situation, Tom was in a great mood. The smell of Cypress’s cologne, the lingering taste of his lips, and the impressions left by his hands were all a delicate armor clinging to his skin, and he felt amazing. He was refreshed, revitalized, and ready to get back to work.
Damn.
Maybe he should go visit Cypress for lunch every day.
Tom checked in with Earl to let him know he was back from lunch and returned to the prep room. He decided it was close enough to the scheduled time to move Mr. Powell for his viewing, rolling him up front into the small viewing room.
Miss Wheel was on the phone, but she waved hello. “Yes, I assure you we’ve taken care of the chicken situation. No, ma’am, the chicken was not actually in with the casket. We pride ourselves on treating every family with love and respect.”
Tom chuckled to himself on the way back to the prep room, delighted to find their hairdresser, Miss Edie, hard at work on Mrs. Winslow. She knew all the codes to the building, and it wasn’t unusual for her to let herself in.
“Hey, baby!” she gushed, flashing a smile that rivaled the sun. She was small and bright, and she had been doing hair for the funeral home longer than Tom had been alive on this planet. It was impossible to tell how old she was because she covered any trace of gray with colorful blonde highlights. She always h
ad a glowing tan from going to the beach and working in her garden, but there was not a wrinkle to be found anywhere on her sweet face.
Despite the prep room safety rules, she always wore flip-flops and swore to haunt anyone who ever tried to bury her in flats or heels.
“Hey, Miss Edie.” Tom immediately went over for a hug. “How are you doing?”
“Oh, I’m great!” Edie exclaimed. “Had to work on the living this morning, took forever. They always wanna talk, baby. I can’t get nothin’ done.”
“Was getting worried about you,” Tom teased. “Thought you might have forgotten about us.”
“That’s what that damn Earl said.” Edie wagged her curling iron at him. “I would never forget about my babies here at the funeral home. I’d rather be here than anywhere else, baby.”
“Oh, I know.” Tom peeked around her to check out Mrs. Winslow’s hair, seeing Edie had already groomed it into a smooth coif in the time it had taken him to deliver Mr. Powell up front. “Damn, she looks awesome.”
“You did her, huh?”
“Sure did.”
“Me and you, we make some beautiful dead folks, baby,” Edie declared, adjusting one small curl by Mrs. Winslow’s ear. “Is it true her little dog ate her up? ‘Cause I can’t see nothin’.”
“Yeah.” Tom grimaced, pointing along Mrs. Winslow’s cheek. “From here over is all wax.”
“Ain’t you somethin’! I swear it’s like magic, baby. I still remember when I saw you give that one lady a nose who didn’t have a nose.” Edie beamed up at him as she picked up a can of hairspray. “You’re so good.”
“Thanks,” Tom said, ducking his head bashfully. “I try really hard.”
“And it shows!” Edie began to spray. “It’s ‘cause you care, baby.” Still spraying. “You put love into it.” And still spraying. “It makes all the difference in the world, and people can tell.”
Tom stepped back to avoid the cloud of hairspray, coughing lightly. “Seriously, thank you. I appreciate it.”
“There,” Edie said, finally ceasing the spritz. “That hair ain’t gonna move until Jesus comes back.”
“She looks amazing.”