by Tara Spears
The way he had played with the light and shadow, there was nothing lewd or erotic about the painting. It was a vision of hopeless vulnerability. I could feel Justin’s despair in the painting, and my chest hurt for putting him through it.
“By the end of summer I don’t think you’ll have to go back to school if you don’t want to.” It was the only thing I could think to say, and it was the truth. His nudes were very good, but what he had done with a torn subject was brutally exquisite. He had found his muse, and it was me.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Justin carried a silly lopsided grin with him into the house. As we did the dishes, and then set out fixings for sandwiches, his mood infected me and I found myself smiling every time he snuck a glance at me from under his golden lashes. The stress of the last few days melted from around us, and soon a very different tension ensued. I wasn’t sure if he was play-acting coy, or if he was actually unsure after everything we had been through. But his impish bumping into me, and sliding past as if the kitchen were too small, were effectively rousing me.
When he bent down to retrieve the lettuce from the drawer, his asscrack appeared, causing “IT” to drool. Justin’s asscrack wasn’t like seeing some sloppy construction workers. His ass was muscular, and that crack was tight all the way up to the little Y at the top. I almost laughed when I realized I was breathing heavily. God, what he, and only he, could do to me. It was revelatory.
As he set the lettuce down on the counter, he pushed his own hard-self against the edge, and I didn’t miss the flutter of his eyelids as he did so. It had been too many days, with just too much, and I so wanted to fuck him. That blinding desire was exhilarating and frightening all at once.
I came up behind him and nestled against his back. “IT” leapt against Justin’s ass, and he sucked in a breath as his hands wrapped the counter edge.
“I’m going to take that as a—” I bit my lip as Justin ground against me, and my hands landed on top of his. “Fuck... a yes.”
“You’re not sore?” he asked, his head lolling back against my shoulder.
I chuckled against his neck. “Obviously not.”
He growled as my tongue laved up his neck. I nipped his earlobe.
“What the fuck are we waiting for then?” Justin wrenched open the drawer near his hip that held his medications, retrieving condoms and lube from the back.
“Do you have sex paraphernalia stashed everywhere in the house?”
He turned to face me, and “IT” drooled again over his flushed face, not to mention the impressive hard-on trying desperately to escape his sweats.
“Pretty much.” He laughed. “These are party leftovers.”
He didn’t waste any time, yanking my sweats down as he dropped onto a knee.
“What a pretty sight.” His hand enveloped my dick as a thumb rubbed pre-cum over my head. I shucked in a breath as “IT” jerked and oozed. “God, that’s a turn on,” he whispered, and before I knew what he was doing he licked across my cockhead. My hips thrust fallaciously, at the same time I grabbed his short hair and yanked.
“Jesus, are you insane?” Even as I said it, I wanted him to do that again. With some effort, I shook my head firmly at him.
“Yes, and I have the medication to prove it,” he teased, and I glared at him. “All right, is it time for this conversation?” He rocked back on his heels, keeping hold of “IT”. “I know you’re clean, or at least aren’t harboring anything truly nasty. Trey, you’re pretty fucking anal”— he smirked while I rolled my eyes— “if you had anything, you would have told me that first night. Besides, you were just at the hospital, and if you had anything going on it would have shown in your blood panel. And, um, I might have glanced at your chart, so I know you’re pretty darn healthy... mental issues notwithstanding.” He simpered.
I narrowed my eyes at him. The sneaky sonofabitch... I couldn’t really be angry with him though. If I had been smart enough to think of that, and could have understood the chart, I would have done the same thing.
“I recant my prior comment, but still.” I tried to relax, but found it a rather difficult task. If there was one thing I had learned from Willie, it was how to keep myself clean, and I prided myself in remaining so.
“If you want to see my paperwork it’s in the bedroom. I had myself tested three weeks ago for my own peace of mind. I needed to know I was clean coming into our relationship.”
I sighed. “That’s not what I meant... but I do appreciate you telling me.” I released the hold I had on his hair. Even though we needed to have this little conversation at some point, doing so had tamped down my desire, causing “IT” to soften within Justin’s grasp.
He tilted his head, gazing up at me. “If it freaks you out, I won’t do it until you’re ready,” he said softly.
With a jolt I realized it hadn’t bothered me, well not in an OCD way at least.
“Um,” I looked down at him kneeled in front of me, his hand still gripping my almost limp dick. I bit my lip as his tongue snaked slowly over his upper teeth. He grinned cockily.
“I admit it was fucking hot, you little shit.” Not that any part of him could be considered small.
His grin widened, and I smirked back at him.
I placed my hands on my hips, and gave him as bored a look as I could muster. It wasn’t easy with him kneeling there, cheeks flushed, while his eyes burned into me.
“You made me lose my hard-on. I’m kinda not in the mood now.”
Justin’s eyes glittered at the challenge right before he latched his mouth around “IT” and sucked me straight back to his throat. My hands fell to his shoulders, holding on for dear life. God help me. His mouth was warm and wet and...
His tongue flicked my balls, and blood roared through my ears as “IT” hardened. Fuck, he had a talented mouth. My hand traveled up his neck, caressing his cheek, before settling in his hair. He withdrew, stopping to lap up the ooze that had begun to flow again. I watched him, fascinated by how much it turned me on. He freed his dick and started stroking himself, and regardless of how much I wanted to watch him, I wanted to fuck him more.
“Enough.” I tugged on his hair.
He licked his lips, grabbed the towel off the stove handle, and wiped me down before mouthing a condom on. He took another minute to tease “IT” then he dressed his own dick, and stood up. He leaned in, kissing me aggressively. I tensed over where his mouth had just been, and he hesitated, waiting to see if I would pull away. I didn’t, and in a brilliant show, my desire successfully tackled my fear... at least this time.
We hastily undressed, then Justin kicked the chairs out of the way, and laid his back on the table.
“Shit, Justin, that’s a really deep position.”
He didn’t listen to me. Instead he gave me a sultry look as he lubed a finger, bent his knees into his chest, and pushed it up his ass. He groaned as he began to finger himself. God, that was... fuck. He wasn’t as limber as I was, but he was pretty damn agile, and what he lacked in dexterity he made up for with enthusiasm.
I moved between his legs and lubed up “IT” as well as my own fingers. He removed his, grabbing the edges of the table as I slid two fingers in. He exhaled and his eyes rolled in his head. Jesus, he was fuckin’ ready. I slid another in, and his body arched while “IT” began tap-dancing against my belly. He seemed to have lost all his prior inhibitions over bottoming, moaning as my fingers slid in and out.
I withdrew, and Justin chucked his legs energetically onto my shoulders. I drew his hips towards me— Ow, pain, stab wound. Screw it. My side could scream at me later.
“You fuckin’ tell me to stop if it hurts.”
He grinned at me. “You’re not that big.”
I pushed into his tight little pucker and watched his face pinch with discomfort. I stopped, waiting for him to relax, and when he did, I drove the rest of the way in.
“I fill you, you prick,” I teased, rolling my hips as a case in point. He moaned, and I think I di
d too as he clenched down around my dick. I slid out and back in. God, he was deliciously tight. I began pumping him in long slow strokes. I really wanted to slam into him, but he was mine, and I was determined to take it slow so I didn’t hurt him. It was fuckin’ hard though when the brat clamped down every time I drew back.
“Harder...” he breathed and used the table as leverage to propel himself into my stomach. God, that had to be the most erotic word anyone could say to someone screwing them. I picked up the pace, and a minute later Justin growled, “Harder, fuck me harder.” And he began meeting every thrust. His ass slapped against my thighs, nudging my sore nuts, as I pumped into him.
His moans turned into a stream of loud; Ah... ah... ah, exalted on every thrust. His exuberance was infectious and I let myself go, driving hard enough Justin gripped the table, and just held on for the ride.
“Fuck... I’m gonna come... fuck, fuck, fuck,” Justin hollered. I glanced down just as the first spurt creamed his condom. “IT” jerked and my balls sucked up. I reached around his leg, grabbing his dick. I could feel every vein pulsing, and “IT” throbbed in response. My body slicked with sweat as my knees wobbled.
“Mmrrrr.” I gritted my teeth, pushing myself to my own release. Justin kept shooting in a rolling surge beneath my hand. His knees tightened around my neck as he tried to pump into my hand. My thumb wandered over the squishy tip of his condom and his whole body jerked. My stomach clenched and I drove in hard.
“Ah Fuck!” I yelled, as the heat and intensity of my orgasm almost brought me to my knees. There is a heaven. I leaned into the table edge, clinging to Justin’s thigh. I’d never get tired of this. Not with him.
“Oh, Jesus.”
It took a second or three to register. Justin and I opened our eyes and looked at each other in a haze then swung our heads in tandem towards the voice.
“Grandpa, Grandma,” Justin squeaked. His body tensed but he didn’t move. It was a good decision since he was pretty much keeping me on my feet at the moment.
The petite silver-haired sweetheart of a woman smiled, actually smiled warmly, and said, “Hello dear, this must be your new boyfriend your mom told us about?”
Justin nodded, wide eyed, as he gulped for air. I just stared, not sure if I should be amused or horrified. His grandfather’s strong jaw worked as he concentrated on his brown penny-loafers.
“We knocked, but I guess you didn’t hear us,” the big man said in a lilting voice. The resemblance between he and Justin’s father was uncanny.
“Come on Ben, let them finish. We’ll be in the front room.” She wrinkled her small nose, and took her husband’s arm, leading him out, as she hummed softly.
“I think they already did,” Ben mumbled as he dutifully followed, keeping his eyes averted.
We looked at each other.
“Shit,” I said, and we both started laughing.
Justin went to move his legs off my shoulders.
“Wait or I’ll lose the condom.” I let his still semi-erect dick go, and pinched my condom around a very deflated “IT” before pulling out.
Justin exhaled a moan.
“Slut,” I whispered.
He smiled pruriently while he stroked his cock. Fuck, the little shit. He let out a shuddering breath as one last squirt swirled into the already bulging condom.
“You are a slut.” I slid off my condom, and tied it.
“Yeah, and you love it,” he finally said as he held up a hand. I pulled him up. He tied off his own condom, and laid it on the table then scooted forward, trapping me within his arms and legs.
“Your grandparents?” I reminded him despite the fact I was stroking the back of his neck and kneading his ass.
“They’ll wait. I just need a minute.”
Admittedly I did too. Sex with Justin still left me in a raw surreal state, and I needed these few minutes to come back down, and pull myself together again.
As we cleaned up and donned our clothes, I couldn’t help being nervous over meeting his grandparents. Well, properly meeting them anyway. I doubted they’d ever forget this. Me with my prick rammed up their grandson’s butt, as my hand stroked his tallywacker. Not the best of first impressions, that’s for sure.
A tremor vibrated in my gut. I pulled up my pants, feeling the small damp spot “IT” had left, and the vibration radiated out and up my back. I flat-out refused to acknowledge it.
Justin washed his hands and face, while I sat on the toilet putting my socks on. He kept laughing, short spurts of amusement.
“It’s not funny.”
“Yes, it is.” He chuckled.
“Okay, maybe a little. I think it would have been better if I had been the one getting reamed though.” I shook my head, managing a soft laugh.
“It wouldn’t have mattered. They’re pretty cool. Grandpa knew I was gay before I did.” He shrugged as he leaned against the pedestal sink, drying his hands on a yellow floral hand towel.
“Everyone knew you were gay before you did, or at least before you chose to acknowledge it,” I said, standing up.
I looked ridiculous in my purple sweats and tight navy blue v-neck tee. The white socks completed the hideous mismatched outfit nicely. Justin’s ensemble wasn’t much better, but at least he had an excuse. He was in his painting clothes, as evidenced by the multi-hued splatters of actual paint. His pink bunny slippers were a nice childish touch however, making me look like a pederast.
He was shaking his head at me, shuffling one of his bunny slippers. “I was trying to be something my father could live with. But alas, this cute, broken, wild brunette showed up and now... everyone else pales in comparison.” His head tilted as he gazed at me with benevolent blue eyes. “Only, he can’t seem to see how special he really is.”
“We’re not really going to get into this now are we?”
He tossed the towel onto the washer. “No.” He opened the door and reached back for my hand. “I said it because I know your mind will roll it over and over mercilessly for days.” He captured my hand then frowned down at my trembling fingers.
“I’m ignoring it,” I told him with a squeeze of my hand.
He looked at me concerned.
“I’ll be fine.”
He didn’t believe me, and I didn’t really believe myself, but I was damn well going to try.
He kept me close as we entered the front room. His grandfather appeared abashed. Justin’s tiny grandmother, however, was beaming at us without a trace of embarrassment.
“Ah, darling, it is good to see you, and looking so happy too!” She threw her arms around him, and he leaned down so she could kiss his cheek.
“Grandma, Grandpa, this is my boyfriend, Trey Grey. Trey,” He squeezed my hand, giving me a goofy smile, “Ben and Mira Kent.”
Ben shook my hand very firmly then slapped his other hand around mine as his face broke into a smile. “It is really good to meet you,” he said righteously, and I swear the man teared up. His reaction was so much different than his son’s, I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to taint Justin’s father’s opinion about gays.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, sir.” I returned his smile.
He nodded, letting my hand go, then turned away to wipe his eyes, confirming my suspicion. Mira beamed at me so brightly I almost backed up a step.
“Well now, I always knew Justin would find someone handsome.” She clapped her hands together in front of her chest then slapped them onto my cheeks.
“Thank you?” I answered, not really knowing how to respond.
Mira was bubbly, with a sweet face, but there was a helluva lot of wisdom in the old bird’s ashen eyes. She patted one of my cheeks before she clasped her knobby hands in front of her again.
“So, tell us how you met. We want to hear everything.” She wrinkled her bonny nose excitedly.
We looked at each other knowingly. “We met at a restaurant,” I said. “He, um, took my breath away.”
Justin’s mouth opened.
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br /> “And somehow he keeps managing to do it,” I added gently, not taking my eyes off him. His lip trembled slightly. He licked his lips and swallowed, managing a weak smile before he turned back to his grandma. I knew I had put him on the spot, but it seemed like the right thing to say just then.
His grandparents settled on the couch and asked about me, school, and things we had to skirt carefully, making me shift uncomfortably on the folding chair I was sitting on. When my leg began bouncing nervously, Justin laid a hand on my thigh, and his touch somehow steadied me.
Finally the spotlight swooshed off us as they launched into what they had been up to, where they had been, and the fabulous things they had seen. I relaxed, listening to their soft excited voices as they took us with them through Italy, then Greece.
Justin took in every word with enraptured glee. It was so obvious he wanted to go. But then why wouldn’t he? Didn’t every artist want to experience the splendor of Europe?
I glanced at his steady, calming hand on my leg. I found myself wanting to make that trip with him. Maybe, someday, if he were by my side... Anything was possible, wasn’t it? I took in his twinkling eyes and slightly jealous grin. If I couldn’t overcome my issues associated with travel, then he would definitely have to go to Europe without me. The boy was completely beguiled.
As Ben rose from the couch, and helped his wife up, he stated, “Dinner tomorrow night.”
“Sounds good.” Justin looked at me, “What time can you be here?”
I shook my head. “I can’t tomorrow. I have a meeting.” A pang of guilt, and a whole crapload of remorse, hit me at that moment over my agreement with Freddie. I couldn’t ditch him though. He might absolve the arrangement when he hears it will only be a month, but I doubted it. Besides, I needed his money in order to keep my promises to Justin.
“But—”
I regarded him firmly, and he nodded, looking like a puppy I had just stepped on.
“We’re here until Friday morning. Does Thursday work for you, Trey?”