by Andria Large
After drizzling a little more lube on my fingers, I insert a second to help prepare him for what’s to come. He’s really tight. I don’t want to hurt him. I look up at him to check and make sure he’s doing okay. His head is back, digging into the pillow. His breathing has become erratic, and he’s taken over jerking himself off. Smiling to myself, I think he’s doing okay.
After working him over with two fingers for a minute, I’m so revved up I can’t wait any longer. I need to be inside him. I remove my fingers and grab the lube. Dennis lies there panting with his eyes closed. The hand that is around his cock slows down as he waits for me to get into position.
I hook his left leg over my elbow as I shuffle closer on my knees. I take my cock in hand and guide it to his hole. I rub a generous amount of lube around before pushing forward. I watch Dennis’s face for any signs of distress since I can’t hear him.
DENNIS
TUCKER’S FINGERS felt so fucking good, and I was so ready for more. But now I’m afraid. Afraid it’s going to hurt and I’m not going to like it. Tucker’s cock is much bigger than his fingers. He pushes forward, using his hand to guide himself. Oh Jesus! He feels huge.
“Bear down a little. It will let me in easier,” he whispers.
I do as he says. My eyes are squeezed shut; I don’t need him to see the uncertainty in them. I want to do this for him, and I don’t want him backing down. I hiss as the head of his dick pushes past the muscles trying to keep him out. Fuck! It burns a little, but that’s nothing compared to the fullness I feel. I don’t even know how to describe it. It’s an odd sensation that borders on seriously uncomfortable. Tucker hooks my other leg over his arm and lifts them both up and out. He pushes forward, making me take more of him an inch at a time.
“Christ, you are so fucking tight, Denny,” he grits out.
I open my eyes and am met by Tuck’s blazing, blue ones. He’s breathing hard and biting his bottom lip as he continues to push forward. He looks so fucking sexy right now. I glance down to where we’re joined and moan. Shit, that’s hot.
Finally, he sinks all the way in. He bites out a curse and lets my legs go so he can drop his body to mine. His mouth crashes into mine as he moves, slowly pulling out before thrusting back in. I gasp into his mouth as pure pleasure shoots through me. He smiles and threads his fingers into my hair.
“Oh my God,” I moan, my eyes practically rolling back in my head as Tucker moves at a slow and sensual pace.
I wrap my arms around his neck and hold on to him. It’s no longer uncomfortable. Ecstasy takes over my entire body. Tucker can’t hear me, but each of his thrusts is causing me to moan or gasp or grunt, because it just feels so fucking good. Now I understand why he likes bottoming so much. My orgasm is building, and it’s a bit different from normal, more intense maybe?
Tucker lifts his head, moving far enough away to see my mouth.
“Feel good?” he asks.
“So fucking good,” I pant.
He smiles.
“I love you,” he whispers.
“I love you too,” I reply with a small smile.
With that, Tuck picks up the pace. He pushes up to his hands as his hips pump faster. I cry out and move my hips in time with his. I can’t take it anymore; I’m ready to explode and need relief. I wrap my hand around my cock and stroke furiously. My free hand finds Tucker’s chest. I grip it hard, digging my short nails into his skin.
“Do it, baby. Come for me,” Tucker growls, sending shivers of pleasure down my spine.
My orgasm hits me hard and fast. A guttural shout rips up my throat as I shoot my load all over my chest and stomach. My body twitches and trembles as Tucker continues to pound into me, looking for his own release. He comes a moment later, crying out with a few final thrusts.
He drops down to rest on his forearms. We are both panting heavily. Tuck carefully pulls out and rolls off to my side.
“Damn, that was good,” he rasps.
I can only nod. The rest of me isn’t working yet.
“How’s your ass? Need some ice?” He chuckles.
I smirk and turn my face toward him so he can read my lips. “I’m still basking in the postsex glow, so I can’t really feel much at the moment.”
Tucker grins and gives me a lazy kiss before grabbing the box of tissues. After we’re cleaned up, he snuggles up against my side, wrapping his arm around my waist and throwing his leg over mine. I run my fingers up and down his forearm, which is draped over my stomach. I turn my face toward him and kiss his forehead. Damn, I love him. So fucking much.
Chapter Thirteen
TUCKER
I STARTED visiting my mom once a week to give my dad a little bit of a break. The poor guy is emotionally and physically spent. He’s lost weight since we were together at my brother’s house, and the bags under his eyes keep getting worse as my mother’s health declines.
I walk into the living room from the kitchen, carrying a glass of iced tea. My mom is sitting on the couch watching reruns of The Golden Girls.
“Here you go, Sherry,” I say.
I place the iced tea in her hands, making sure she has a good grip on it before letting go. I call her by her name now, because every time I call her mom, it confuses and upsets her, so it’s not worth it.
She smiles sweetly up at me. “Thank you.”
It’s just the two of us right now. I made my dad go to the grocery store since they’re basically out of everything. He was hesitant to leave, but I assured him I would be fine with Mom. As he was leaving, I could see the relief in his eyes to have the opportunity to go out and have some time alone.
The only thing that’s difficult with me watching my mom is that she doesn’t realize I’m deaf, so I try to make an effort to keep glancing at her in case she speaks.
I watch her as she takes a sip of her iced tea. “Is it okay?” I ask.
She nods. “Delicious. Where’s Tom?” She blinks innocently at me.
“He went to the store to get some food. He should be back soon.” I pat her knee reassuringly.
“Oh, okay,” she chirps.
Her eyes study me, and I wait to see what comes out of her mouth next. Her brow furrows in confusion.
“Don’t I know you?” she asks.
I give her a soft smile. “Yeah, you know me.”
“What’s your name again?”
“It’s Tucker.”
She smiles. “Tucker. I’ve always liked that name. Whenever I have children, if I have a boy, I’m going to name him Tucker.”
I give her what I hope isn’t too sad of a smile. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Do you have any children?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“No. I have a boyfriend, though,” I tell her.
Her eyebrows shoot up before her expression turns to one of contemplation. “I believe there was a nice young man I met once who was gay. He was such a sweet boy. Oh, what was his name?” She huffs, more to herself than to me. I’m pretty sure she’s talking about Dennis, which makes me smirk. I’ll have to remember to tell him that she kind of remembered him.
“Anyway, so you have a boyfriend? Is he a good man?”
I smile wide, unable to help myself. “He is.”
She pats my knee. “Good. I’m glad.”
I grin. She may not be specifically approving of her son being with another man, but her acceptance of someone being gay means a lot to me, nonetheless. She turns away to watch the TV for a few minutes. She then gets up from the couch and goes into the kitchen. I follow her because I can’t see what she’s doing from the living room, and my dad says she has a tendency to turn the stove on to try to make dinner.
She sets her glass on the counter, then opens and closes cabinets and drawers as if she’s looking for something. The more she looks, the more aggravated she becomes. She starts slamming the doors closed. That’s when I step in. I come up beside her and place my hand on her shoulder.
She makes an irritated noise and shoves her hands into her hair. “I came in here for something, and now I can’t remember what it was,” she grits out.
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay! None of this is okay!” she screams at me, banging her frail fist against my chest as she bursts into tears.
I pull her into my arms, and thankfully she lets me. She buries her face against my chest and sobs. My heart breaks at the anguish pouring out of her.
“What’s wrong with me?” she cries, looking up at me with tears streaking down her face.
“You have Alzheimer’s, Mom,” I whisper, hating the devastated look those words bring to her eyes.
She lets out a heart-wrenching wail before dropping her forehead back to my chest. I hold her tightly, trying to soothe her as best as I can while fighting back my own tears. When she finally calms down, she has me take her upstairs so she can lie down for a while.
As I come back down the steps, the front door opens and my dad walks in carrying a ton of bags. I grab some from him and start for the kitchen. I set them down, then go get the rest from his car. When I get back to the kitchen, he’s already putting things away.
He glances at me. “Where’s your mother?”
“She’s resting upstairs. She had a little meltdown just before you got here.”
Frowning, he stops what he’s doing and comes to stand in front of me. He grabs my shoulders, and his concerned blue eyes meet mine. “Are you okay?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know how you do this every day,” I croak, raking a hand through my hair.
He gives me a sad smile. “What choice do I have? She’s my wife, I love her, and I vowed to be there for her through sickness and health, till death do us part. There’s no way I would ever put her in a home. She belongs here with me.”
I nod, and he gives my shoulders a squeeze.
“Whenever you find the woman you want to marry, you’ll understand.”
I sigh. Oh, if he only knew. Now isn’t the time to tell him, though. He’s got enough of a burden with my mother. He doesn’t need my shit on top of it. Especially since I don’t know how he’s going to take the news.
“Help me put this stuff away, and then you can go.”
DENNIS
“HEY, DENNY. Your boyfriend just sat down at the bar. He’s looking kinda bummed,” Jim calls down the stairs to the basement where I’m helping one of the bartenders—Britney—bring up cases of beer.
I frown. “Okay, be right there,” I call back.
Wonder what Tucker is doing here and looking bummed about? He doesn’t usually come to hang out, so something must be up. I prop the case of beer onto my shoulder and carry it up the narrow stairs. I set it behind the bar as I glance around for Tucker. He’s sitting at the far end, his head down and his hand wrapped around a bottle of Heineken. His motorcycle helmet is sitting on the bar top next to him.
I skirt the bar and make my way toward him. Everyone I work with knows about our relationship, and they’re all cool with it, which I’m happy about. I slide onto the stool next to him and wrap my arm around his shoulders. He jerks in surprise, his head shooting up as he nearly tumbles off the stool. He probably would have if I weren’t hanging on to him.
“Fuck, Denny! You can’t sneak up on me like that!” he barks and shoves at my chest.
Normally I would laugh about scaring the shit out of him, but he’s angry instead of just startled, which isn’t normal for him either. Instead I frown at him.
“I’m sorry,” I sign.
“Fuck,” he breathes and shoves an agitated hand through his curls.
I give him a few minutes to calm down. He’s obviously riled up about something. And the fact he’s here lets me know he needs me to be there for him. I slip my hand to the back of his neck and give it a squeeze to get his attention.
“What’s going on?” I ask when he looks over at me.
“I went to visit my mom after work today.”
That’s all he really needs to say. Whenever he goes to visit his mom, he always comes home in a shitty mood. Not that I can blame him. I can’t imagine how he feels.
“How is she?”
He shakes his head and takes a long swig from his beer. He looks at me after setting the bottle down, and his eyes say all that needs to be said.
“Not good, huh?” I murmur sorrowfully.
“No.”
“I’m sorry.”
“She still sorta remembers you, though,” he says with a tight smile.
I shake my head. “That’s wild.”
“Yeah, I don’t get it.”
“And you probably never will.” I sigh.
“I hate seeing her suffer like this. Not that I want her to die, but I just feel like she would be better off,” he whispers, his voice trembling.
I tighten my grip on his neck and pull him closer. Tucker leans into me, dropping his head onto my shoulder. I feel so helpless. There is literally nothing I can do for him or his family other than be supportive. Tucker sighs heavily and straightens back up. He finishes his beer and signals Britney for another one.
I pat his forearm to get his attention. When he looks at me, I ask, “Are you hanging around for a little bit?”
“Yeah, I’m just gonna have a few beers, then go home.”
“Okay. Make sure you find me before you leave,” I tell him as I slide off the stool.
He nods. “I will.”
I give him a chaste kiss on the lips before getting back to work. As I walk back toward the basement door, I catch the smirk Britney aims at me.
I give her a curious look. “What?”
“You two are just so cute together.”
I smile and roll my eyes. Tucker and me are cute? I don’t know about that.
I bring up a few more cases of beer from the basement for Britney. When I look up, I see the resident flirt has taken a seat next to Tucker. I smile and shake my head. Tucker is so in for it. One of the regulars at O’Reilly’s Pub is a guy named Kevin. He’s probably in his midforties, single, and a drunk. He hits on everyone, doesn’t matter if they’re a guy, girl, married, single, not interested—he doesn’t care. He’s usually not a problem, unless he hits on the wrong person and they want to beat his ass. He’s here almost every night of the week. It’s pretty sad, actually.
Kevin leans into Tucker’s personal space as he talks to him. Tucker is leaning away, giving the guy a disgusted sneer. I bet his breath smells horrendous. I walk by to give the other bouncer—Evan—who’s working the door tonight his break.
Tucker gives me a look that says, “Who the fuck is this guy?” I bite back a laugh as I shrug. My attention is diverted by having to check IDs at the door. It isn’t until about fifteen minutes later that I hear a commotion behind me. That lasted longer than I’d expected. Tucker’s raised voice has me glancing over my shoulder.
“Man, get the hell away from me,” he barks at Kevin and shoves the guy away, making him fall off his stool to land on his ass on the floor.
Tucker seems seriously pissed. Great. That’s not going to be good for me later. Kevin staggers to his feet.
“What? I just offered you a blowjob! Who the hell doesn’t want a blowjob?” Kevin slurs loudly.
I sigh. This is not going to end well for Kevin. Luckily Evan comes back to man the door so I can deal with the drunken idiot. Before I can reach them, though, Kevin makes the mistake of putting his hand on Tucker’s thigh. Tucker moves so fast my eyes barely register what he does. In two seconds flat, he has Kevin’s arm twisted up behind his back and his face smashed against the bar. Everyone stops whatever they’re doing to watch the scene.
“What part of ‘get away from me’ don’t you understand?” Tucker growls, hiking Kevin’s arm up a little higher, forcing a high-pitched, pained shout to escape from him.
I come up next to them and place my hand on Tucker’s shoulder. Tu
cker swings his livid, blue gaze around to look at me. “All right, Tuck, let him go,” I say.
Tucker pulls Kevin up off the bar before shoving him at me. “I’m not in the mood for this shit,” he snaps.
“I know.” I nod solemnly, catching Kevin from falling flat on his face.
I have Kevin grab his jacket before I lead him toward the door. It’s time for him to go. I walk him outside and pull out my phone to call him a cab. The frigid air has me wishing I’d grabbed my jacket too.
“That guy was hot, Denny. I would have totally sucked his dick,” Kevin mutters, swaying on his feet next to me.
I snort. “Yeah, better luck next time.”
Kevin turns his glassy, brown eyes to me. He’s not a horrible-looking guy, but he’s nothing special either. He lifts a suggestive eyebrow at me.
“You’re hot too, Denny. Wanna blowjob?” he offers.
I bark out a laugh. “I do, but not from you. I’m gonna get one from the hot guy at the bar when I get home.”
Kevin’s brow furrows. “Not cool, man. I saw him first,” he slurs.
I shake my head. “No, I did, because he’s my boyfriend.”
A slow grin forms on Kevin’s face. “Even better. Take me home and I’ll suck both your dicks.”
I facepalm and shake my head. This guy is ridiculous. I call a cab for him and wait the very cold ten minutes for them to show up, all the while fighting off Kevin’s advances. I finally get him in the cab and on his way before I go back inside.
TUCKER
I CAN’T deal with these fucking drunk assholes tonight. I pay the pretty bartender, Britney, grab my leather jacket and my helmet, then turn to leave. Dennis is standing behind me, the twitching of his lips suggesting he’s fighting not to laugh. Dammit! How can I stay mad when Dennis looks so amused? It’s been about six months since his attempted suicide. He’s been the happiest I’ve ever seen him. It’s not possible for me to not be happy right along with him.
“What is so damn funny?” I ask, now fighting off my own smile.