by J. D. Walker
He shifted on the couch, muting the sound on the TV before pushing me flat on my back. “I want to explore this delectable body of yours.”
Who was I to say “no”?
“It’s all yours.”
He grinned. “Finally.” First, René kissed all the breath from me, and my mouth tingled by the time he moved away to feast on my collarbone. “I want to put chocolate sauce on your skin and lick it off someday. What do you think?” he asked as he helped me remove my T-shirt.
“I approve.”
“Good.” He sat on my crotch and kneaded my pecs, bottom lip held between his teeth as he went on to explore my chest and abs. “There’s just something about a man who does physical labor all day long. I could probably come just from watching you pound a nail into wood.”
I nudged his ass with my own wood. “I can oblige right now, if you’d like.”
He laughed and wiggled on my cock, making me cross-eyed. “We’ll get there soon enough.” René stood briefly and removed my sweats before stripping out of his clothing. I was speechless at the sight of him, all lean, muscular lines, smooth skin, and pert nipples.
I crooked a finger. “Come here, you.” Once he did, I ended up flipping him on the couch so he was under me. The way he felt, it was…perfect. That was the only way to describe it. And while I still believed he could do better than me, René seemed willing enough to be with me, for now, so maybe I should stop second-guessing everything and go with it.
I cupped his face in my hands and kissed him while rotating my hips against his. He joined me, our cocks leaking and leaving a sticky mess behind, the best kind. René slid his hands around me to grab my ass and squeeze, making me grunt.
“You want me to fuck you? Or you want to go first? You didn’t come earlier,” I said.
“Lemme do you. I want to watch you move above me. I bet it’s poetry in motion.”
I blushed. “Don’t know about that, but I’ll do my best.” I reached over his head to grab a condom and lube, both of which I’d placed in the end table drawer when I’d returned from my shower, just in case. Always be prepared, that’s my motto.
I got off the couch and kneeled on the floor, since I’d have more room to prepare my hole. But René wasn’t having it. “Sit on my face, Serge.”
He didn’t have to ask twice. I maneuvered into position, then felt his hands on my ass, guiding me back until his warm tongue wiggled against my bud. It had been a long time since I’d been rimmed, and René’s mouth almost had me coming again, which would have been selfish. So I restrained myself as much as I could while still moving with his tongue and his mouth as he sucked, probed, and licked me into a near frenzy.
“Enough!” I cried, abruptly moving away and squeezing the base of my cock so as not to go off so soon. I could see René’s rod, on which I’d been feasting, bouncing in front of me. He’d enjoyed it, too.
“Put the condom on me and get on. I need a hard ride.”
I was quick about it, and then, one knee on either side of his, I positioned myself over his cock, which he held steady for me. I sank down. It was a slow process, what with how tight I was and only rimming to open me up, but I loved it, and apparently so did René.
“Fuck,” he whispered once he was all the way inside and I sat on him, breathing heavily and doing my best to adjust to his girth. I loved how fat he was. I’d likely feel this for days after we were done.
“I’m gonna move,” I said, and sat up until only the tip was inside, and then he grabbed my hips and slammed up into me.
“Uh,” I grunted as we worked to match our rhythm. It seemed to be his mission in life to find my prostate with every stroke, which made me howl repeatedly. We were both dripping with sweat now, our world narrowed down to the two of us, and our journey to the hottest release ever known to man.
It hit me unawares, and I arched my back as I sent strings of cum all over his chest and God knows where else. “Shit,” I muttered, realizing I hadn’t even touched my cock, that was how hot this was.
And when René came, it was glorious. I had never seen anything more awe-inspiring, and yes, I wanted more.
I collapsed on top of him, both of us breathing heavily in the aftermath of fantastic sex, and I thought, I really need to get over myself. This is a man worth keeping.
* * * *
I made dinner—well, okay, I heated leftovers—but they were good because Woody is awesome in the kitchen. At least it seemed that René was impressed.
“Woody could open a restaurant if he wanted to,” he commented as he made his way through chicken fettuccine as we sat across from each other.
“He does many things well, the bastard. I get the benefit of his cooking without the weight gain.”
“I wish I could be like you. I have to work out like hell to not gain a pound, especially since I like to eat all my creations. I mean, how else am I to know if they’re good or not?”
I laughed. “Sure, we’ll work with that.”
He stared at me.
“What?” I asked.
“It’s great to see you smiling and happy around me. I thought I’d lost that.”
I sipped my iced tea. “Well, we’re still at the beginning of…whatever you want to call this. And you seduced me, might I remind you.”
“You let me,” he shot back. “It’s not like you’re a weakling. You could have pushed me away outside. Acted scandalous and clutched your pearls.”
I snorted. “Funny.” I chewed on some pasta. “Stay the night? Or do you have to get back?”
“I’d like to stay here, if you don’t mind. I have a change of clothes in my car.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course, you do.”
He winked at me as if to say, “What did you expect?”
“I have houseguests, as usual, and Bryce is staying at the house right now until he gets a place of his own. He’s decided he likes it here and has agreed to run the new bakery for me.”
I was silent for a minute. “It’ll be cool for you to have a close friend around, I suppose.”
René leaned back in his chair. “Are you still mad at him for what he said to you at the house? He tends to speak first and think later, that one. And he is sorry for making a hash of things.”
“I have no frame of reference, really. He has a right to his opinions.”
“You’re too forgiving.” He drank some soda. “So how’s the business going? Any big projects in sight?”
“Not yet,” I replied. “I’ve put in RFPs for jobs along the coast within a couple of hours north and south of here. In the meantime, I’ll just do what I can. At least I have my savings.” Though even that would run out someday.
He leaned across the table and took my hand in his. “Are you happy?”
I smiled. “Much happier than I was in my previous job. I’m doing something I enjoy, and while it might not be glamorous, and I may be covered in dust and paint most of every day, I can live with that. I realized I don’t need recognition. I just need to feel as if I’m making a contribution, helping someone find their joy by giving them their dream house or a new deck or whatever. I have simple needs, you see.”
His gaze was searching. “Can I tell you how sexy that sounds to me?”
“You just did.”
“Can I show you?”
“Be my guest.”
We ended up in the shower, my back to René’s as he slowly jacked me off under the spray using bath gel. I melted against him, his hot body surrounding me, his hand pumping just hard and fast enough to make me yearn to come as soon as possible.
“More, René, please? I need more,” I begged, and he gave me what I wanted.
I could feel his hardness behind me, the hickies he gave me on my shoulder and neck, the way he pinched my nipples with his other hand, then fondled my balls. All this ramped me up until he whispered for me to turn my head, then he took my mouth. His tongue touched mine, and I lost it, spunk disappearing down the drain and sliding down the tiles before us
.
I turned to face him on wobbly legs and returned the favor, our mouths melded together as I helped him come. It was such a gorgeous thing, seeing him lose his shit like that, the lovely pastry chef turned sex god. I hoped to have more experiences like this, no matter how scared I was as to whether this would last.
Finally, we made it to my bedroom, and when we were snuggled under the covers, my back to René’s chest, I fell asleep, content with my world for the first time in a long while.
* * * *
“You’re coming to the opening, right?” René asked me on Monday morning while he rang up my purchases at the bakery. Yes, I’d returned to my regular routine, because, well damn it, I just had to.
“You want me to be there?” I asked innocently as I put away the change he gave me and grabbed my paper bag and hot chocolate.
René glared at me. “Wrong answer.”
I leaned over and kissed him on the mouth, a lingering affair that melted all his ire. “Yes, I’ll be there. Noon on Saturday, right?”
“Yup,” he replied, sneaking another kiss. That was the benefit of being the first into the bakery in the mornings. No one else was around and we could indulge in each other’s mouths to our heart’s content.
“Who’s working for you here, then?” I asked.
“You know I’ll have the usual folks to help me out. It’s heading into busy season.”
“True.”
“Oh, by the way, Bryce has decided he wants to build a house from scratch, and he’d like to hire you to do it. Interested?”
I was sure I looked suspicious. “You didn’t force him to—”
“I would never.” That butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-my-mouth look didn’t fool me. I was getting to know René more intimately day by day, and I could tell he was up to mischief.
“I don’t believe you, but he’s your friend, so I’ll leave you to it. I just don’t want to get in the middle of something.”
“You won’t, Serge. Promise.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Really,” he asserted.
“Okay. Well, I’ll see you this evening at your place for dinner, okay?”
“Eight o’clock. Prepare to be assaulted, in a good way, by everyone.”
I shuddered. “I hope that’s a good thing?”
“It is.” He blew me a kiss. “Have a nice day, sweetie.”
“You, too.”
* * * *
That night at René’s place was a revelation. His friends were fun, actually, and a bit rowdy. They meant well, though. Bryce had approached me right off when I arrived and was apologetic for his behavior the last time we’d seen each other. I told him not to worry about it, that maybe he’d had a point, too, and I hadn’t been ready to see it at the time.
I met all the other crazy people: Bruce, Horace, Tim, Martin, and Grimm. I was told by each one that I was the only guy with whom they’d ever seen René act this way, and this from guys who had dated him, too.
We had a nice meal, decadent dessert provided by René, of course, over which I suitable moaned, loud enough for catcalls, especially when the man himself sat in my lap and turned those moans into kisses. I blushed a lot, but I laughed, as well.
Later, we watched Magic Mike XXL because, you know, hot men, dance moves. Who cares about plot? Those gyrations had my hands sweaty and my groin hot by the time it was over. René noticed my distress, and, seeing he was similarly affected, dragged me from the room while the other guys were arguing over whether or not to play Poker or Monopoly. Or watch porn.
We barely made it into his room before he pushed me up against the door, with my pants yanked down and my cock sucked within an inch of its life, with René looking so hot on his knees below me. I forgot everything except his mouth and fucked his throat, my hands hard on his head until I screamed release.
Jesus, fuck, I almost passed out. René wouldn’t let me, though. He manhandled me to the bed, dragged my pants down to my knees, and propped me on the edge of the mattress, my knees on the plush carpet. “I’m gonna fuck you, Serge, and you’ll be so loud, the guys will think the house is on fire.”
“Do it,” I begged.
I watched bleary-eyed as René moved to the nightstand to grab supplies, then hurried back to prepare me for entry. I was moving against his fingers, two, then three before I dragged them out myself and, over my shoulder said, “Fuck me, now!”
René nodded, then positioned his condom-covered cock at my hole and pushed. I shoved back. The head popped in, and we both moaned at the sensation.
“Come on, love. I need more,” I urged, fists tight in the bedspread before moving them to the edge of the mattress so I could hold on.
“Here we go,” he said, and then it was on.
I had never felt so owned in my life. My ass was taken by a pro. René knew what I needed and gave it to me, sometimes hard, sometimes slow. My cock was hard again, but I didn’t touch it, because I knew he could make me come with nothing but his dick against my prostate.
The closer we came to release, the louder we got, then we yelled like banshees as he filled up the condom, hips stuttering against my ass, and I messed up his nice bed cover. I held myself up on shaky arms, not wanting to fall in the wet spot, with René still inside me, his weight heavy on my back.
Before I could make some kind of comment, I heard a voice through the door. “Damn, y’all. You should be in pornos!” It sounded like Bryce. Oh God. Had we been that loud?
Mortification aside, I heard René chuckle before he replied, “You’re just jealous you haven’t had it this good in years.”
“Bastard,” came the muffled reply before I heard footsteps fading away.
“I need a shower,” I said.
“Me, too.”
“Am I staying here, or should we go back to the cabin?” I asked.
“Cabin. If I know these guys, we’ve probably just inspired an orgy.”
My mind boggled at the thought of all those men, sweaty…yeah, okay. “While that sounds hot, I want to be with only you right now.”
“Same here.”
* * * *
Saturday morning, wearing the only suit I’d kept after being laid-off from my old job, I stood next to René. He was dressed impeccably in a white linen suit and a peach-colored shirt. There was a large crowd, media of all kinds, even some notables in the world René inhabited—he pointed them out to me—who’d taken time out of their schedules to wish the franchise well.
Bryce was perfect in a gray suit and a pink shirt with a matching pocket handkerchief. He was handsome and very much in charge. I had given him my congratulations and well-wishes a few minutes ago, and now the ceremony was in progress.
René, at one point, leaned close to ask, “I want to show you where I grew up. Are you free for a few days next week?”
Shocked as I was to hear him make the offer, I replied, “I don’t have anything urgent, except working with Bryce on his house, and that’s in the early stages.”
“Good. Pack a bag. We’ll leave tomorrow.”
“Are we…flying?” I was sick of airplanes, since I’d traveled ad nauseaum in my old job.
“No, no. It’s about four hours away. I thought we’d drive. It’s a beautiful time of year to travel.”
“Okay.”
In a daze, I watched as the ceremony went off without a hitch and everyone “oohed” and “aahed” over the new place and tasted the wonderful delicacies provided for the occasion.
René had joined Bryce for photo ops and to speak with the media, so I wandered around by myself until Woody caught up with me.
“You did good, Serge,” he said, giving me a side hug.
“Thanks. It will be a place of pride for me, having my name associated with this bakery.”
“Indeed. Hey, they want to expand the school. I’m going to recommend you as a possible contractor. What do you think?”
When it rains…
“That would be sweet of you, if you would. I’m in
the planning stages of a house right now, but I can fit stuff in and hire help as needed. It’s getting close to school being out, after all.”
“Yup. Keep the teenagers out of trouble.” We both snickered since we, at one point, had been those very same teenagers.
“Hey, René is taking me on a trip to where he grew up. I’ll be away for a few days.”
Woody looked at me, surprised but pleased. “Excellent! I’m glad you’ve decided to give him a chance. Life’s too short, hon, to cheat ourselves of love, especially if he’s the one.”
“I wouldn’t go that far…”
Woody raised an eyebrow. “I would. You’ll figure it out.”
* * * *
Sunday morning, René and I headed out on the road, with lots of treats, hot chocolate—coffee for him—bread, cream cheese, and music to keep us company. The drive was a pleasurable one, with René regaling me with stories of the things he and his college buddies had gotten up to when they were young and dumb. I told him about life with Woody and Rafe. It was nice, the sharing.
Hours later, we arrived in a small town that seemed faded but quaint. He drove slowly through the streets until he parked in front of small older house, with flowers all around it.
“This is where I grew up. My grandmother still lives here. She raised me from the age of five. She refuses to move, no matter how much I harangue her about it. I send her money, take care of her bills, visit when I can and have the neighbors keep an eye on her.”
I followed René through the old gate and up to the steps. He took a key from a hanging pot and unlocked the door. “Gramma!” he called as he went inside. “I’m here, and I brought someone to meet you.”
We wiped our feet on the frayed rug in the hallway and made our way into the living room. A woman that looked to be in her eighties sat on the couch, a blanket covering her lap as she watched a John Wayne western on TV. Next to her sat someone I assumed was her companion, a middle-aged woman in scrubs. Probably a nurse or caregiver of some sort.