by Laurie Lochs
"Ready…" Mark positioned himself at the base of my hole. He spread lube over my opening and stuck three fingers inside. I tried to yelp in shock but the pacifier quieted me.
"Set…" Mark leaned over me. The head of his cock kissed my cheeks and shed a gentle tear of excitement. In seconds, it would be inside me. My body throbbed.
"Go."
Mark entered me. My eyes shot open. I tried to scream and tell my Daddy how much I liked it but the pacifier prevented me from making a sound. Every inch of his cock consumed me, one thick inch at a time. He fucked me slow, then fast until all ten inches were deep inside. Though I wanted to open my eyes, I dared not look at Daddy as he felt what I was like inside.
Mark's fingers found my eyelids. He rubbed them. He was forcing my eyes open. He wanted me to stare up at him while he did it.
Okay, Daddy. If you say so.
Safe. Secure. Home.
I let Mark pry open my eyes. This time, I didn't look away. I stared into his eyes with an intensity that would never leave. His eyes were burning with flame and starlight. "Almost there, little one," he whispered in a low voice, thrusting into my hole. "Baby’s so tight. It's not going to take Daddy long at all."
I nodded frantically and dared not look away. If Mark was close, I was closer. My entire body tingled. My cock was dripping pre-come all over my tummy and I knew that with two more thrusts I would burst all over my chest.
Suddenly, Mark's body tensed. I didn't need to know what was coming to know what was going on. He was still thrusting into me, but the knowledge that he was so close did something to me all the fucking in the world couldn't. Without warning, I braced myself and prepared for my orgasm -- and shook as it crashed over me like the surf on rocky shores. I tried to scream but the pacifier prevented me from saying a word. My body snapped upward and shot a stream of come across my chest.
"Oh, fuck," Mark gasped, burrowing himself deeper inside me. He thrust into me and pinned my shoulders to the bed. And then, without warning, it happened for him. It happened inside me. Mark's body trembled as he let go inside my whole, filling me with sweet cream. Just like it happened for me.
Mark lowered himself to my neck and kissed me. He was still burrowed deep inside me and his juices were mixing with my insides. I’d never felt closer to a man in my entire life. And I couldn't believe that this man, this very man who I tried to seduce when I'd been a tiny boy, was lodged inside me. My darkest fantasies and most hidden desires had come to life. This man had invited me to his home and burrowed himself in my heart.
"You did it, boy,” Mark whispered, pulling the pacifier from my mouth and laying it on the pillow. I quivered beneath his firm touch and tried to stop my eyes from burning. Mark kissed me hard. I wanted to speak, thank him for what he did to me. For what he made happen inside my body. But I couldn’t say anything, not with his lips pressed firmly against mine. It was better than a story and said more things than words ever could.
At last he pulled out. I ran my fingers over his messy cock. I had him in the palm of my hand.
"Thank you," I whispered at last, running my fingers through my Daddy's hair. "Thank you, Daddy. Thank you for making me come."
"Yes, baby," Mark crooned, nuzzling my neck. "Thank you for being a good boy and letting Daddy do this. Daddy likes you so much."
Warmth filled me. It was all I needed to know. My cheeks burn with the realization that my Daddy liked me as much as I liked him. The years-long crush was no longer one-sided. And he didn't just want to fuck me like before. His gentle passion had let me know he wanted me to be his boy.
This realization was enough to cause me to burst into tears. Well… Almost. Because before the waterworks started flowing, Mark reached out and wiped something from my cheek. With sparkling eyes, he brought it to his mouth and licked it.
Oh, my God. I’d come on my face.
And… And holy shit, was Daddy actually eating it? The come from my cheek?
Something shot through me. I could resist no longer. With a giant grin, I threw my arms around his neck and peppered him with kisses. Mark chuckled and kissed me back. “You’re such a silly boy.”
“Yes, Daddy. The silliest.”
“The silly-williest boy in the whole entire world.”
This only caused me to burst into laughter all over again. Mark brought his lips to my tummy and blew a raspberry. It was worse than tickling and I couldn’t stop squirming in his sheets. With the moon rising high in the midnight sky, Mark pulled me into his arms and took me to bed.
Chapter 20
Mark
* * *
I woke up the next morning with sunlight streaming through the window. Kyle's cheek was set in a blaze of pale ocher white. If I'd thought he looked like a little Roman boy last night, today he looked even better.
The little one came, saw, and conquered… My heart.
Because of course he had. After all, this was the same boy I’d been thinking about for nearly five years. Not all of those years had been positive, but the point was the boy had occupied a central place in my mind. Now we’d taken our relationship – if you could call it that – to a new level. It wasn't about sex. It was about passion.
And baby things.
I chuckled to myself as I ran my fingers over Kyle's pale shoulder. He smiled in the bed but didn't wake up. He was so perfect, lying still. On my pillows. With my blanket wrapped snug around his hairless body.
Who would've thought that a nineteen-year-old boy was everything I could dream of and more? For the first time, Bruce didn't even cross my mind. It was almost like my grudge towards my ex-husband evaporated like morning mist. Bruce wasn't… Well, he wasn't anything to me anymore. I'd been so mad at him for so many years but last night had reduced my hatred to ash. My heart, my brand-new heart, was rising from the ashes of that sordid past like a phoenix. I had Kyle to thank. And spoil. And charm.
And what better way to thank him than making him a full breakfast?
Grinning, I slid into the pajamas I'd shed last night and threw on a light t-shirt. Before leaving the room, I took one last glance at the window and surveyed the garden below. The sunlight would help the vegetables grow and come into their own -- just like my breakfast would do for Kyle.
He was going to flip at my surprise.
I let Kyle sleep and walked briskly to the kitchen. Grabbing the waffle iron, I plugged it into the outlet and began preparing the batter. Flour, buttermilk, eggs. "Don't forget the bacon," I whispered, turning the oven on and pulling the bacon from the fridge. I laid ten slices side-by-side on the baking sheet and set them in the oven. As soon as it preheated, I began scrambling eggs. This was going to be the best breakfast the boy ever had in his life.
I was about to turn around and wake him up when, suddenly, the boy appeared in the doorway in his pajamas and T-shirt. His hair was sticking up in every direction. It warmed my heart.
"Kyle," I said, gesturing to the table. "Sit. I've got waffles on the griddle and bacon in the oven. If you want coffee, I've got a delicious hazelnut roast brewing. Straight from Colombia. You're going to love it.”
I expected the boy to grin. I expected the boy to break into a bashful smile and throw his arms around me. What I didn't expect was for Kyle to bite his lip and stare at the ground as if he had an enormous secret he couldn't be bribed to tell me with food.
"Mark…"
I stopped. Oh, fuck. Here we go.
"Mark," he tried again, struggling to find the right words.
I had no idea what the hell he was trying to say. "Take a seat, Kyle. The food will be ready in a minute.”
Kyle looked up at me like somebody close to him had died. "Not today. I’m so sorry."
"What's wrong?” I asked, moving the skillet with the eggs to the back burner and walking towards Kyle. He instinctively flinched away. My jaw dropped, but I quickly closed it so he wouldn't see. Did I do something?
Hadn't we had the most magical experience last night? I wracked my brain to
see what could've gone wrong. Had I misinterpreted something? Or had it all been a dream?
"I can't," Kyle said, staring at his feet. He either looked like he was scared of me or that I would hate him if he told me what was really on his mind. But there was no way I was going to let him get off that easy. There was just no way. Not after what we'd shared last night.
"Take a seat, Kyle. Tell me what's going on. Please."
My voice was tinged with a touch of anxiety. Kyle must've sensed it, because he immediately shook his head and turned around. "No," he said, refusing to offer any explanation. "I have to go. I'm so sorry, Mark. I just have to go.”
I gaped at him. I couldn’t believe if he was serious. But I couldn’t force him to stay and eat. “Fine,” I said, my voice tinged with fear. “Let’s go, then.”
Kyle walked through the front door and I grabbed the key from the wall. I was moving in a trance or like I was underwater. Kyle didn’t want to stay at all.
I led Kyle to the BMW. Where did he want to go? The hospital. But Ma was safe with the nurses? He still needed to go. At last we pulled up to the hospital and I opened the door for Kyle. He walked through the doors and I stood in the parking lot, unable to process my emotions. At the reception desk, Kyle shot one final look over his shoulder and stared at me. I nodded but he didn’t wish to see.
My eyes burned as I returned to the BMW. You were right before, Mark. You should never let anyone in again. You make a boy waffles, and he leaves. Like clockwork. Like destiny.
Served me right for thinking I could get away with falling in love with my foster boy and not reaping the consequences of forbidden love.
The second I got home, I plugged the waffle griddle back into the outlet and pulled the bacon from the fridge. It’d gone cold, just like the morning. Just like whatever I'd had with the boy last night.
"Motherfucker," I whispered, fighting back tears. I felt slighted, belittled, hurt. I never would have thought the boy would refuse my offer for breakfast. And to not even give me an explanation? That was the worst of all.
The truth was I could've cared less if he'd been honest with me. If he told me that he needed to rush back to the hospital to take care of Ma. I would've understood. I would've gone with him, comforted him. But that's not what happened. He left without the slightest explanation.
Had I offended him? I could’ve sworn to God the entire night had been consensual. Surely, Kyle knew I would stop if he grew uncomfortable… Right?
I tried not to think about it. Instead, I finished breakfast and washed the dishes. After showering, I threw on a checkered shirt, khakis, and drove to the office.
Chapter 21
Kyle
* * *
I was better than a pity fuck. I should have seen it coming. The last thing I wanted to do is be treated like an actual baby.
Because that’s what it was, right? Mark wasn’t interested in me. He came to the hospital because I was a student in his class and he felt bad for me. He didn’t want me. And he sure as hell didn’t have to fuck me because he felt bad.
He was humoring me, like all the men had ever done in my life. It didn’t matter what he said. I knew in my heart of hearts that Mark didn’t want anything serious with me. He couldn’t prove himself to me because I knew he’d be lying.
“Back so soon, baby?”
I smiled politely at the nurse. She led me down the sterile hallway and into Ma’s room. When we entered, I grabbed a small chair on the other side of Ma’s bed and stared at her slow-moving face. I couldn’t believe she was still in the hospital, attached to a machine that monitored her heart. This woman had saved my life. She didn’t have to do that and she sure as hell didn’t have to let me stay until I got on my feet. It was she who opened to me her home and her heart.
And now her heart, the same heart that had been kind enough to take me in as her own, was clogged with God knew what and was preventing her from living. Let me give her mine, I wanted to say to the nurse, take it from my body and give it to her. For she is infinitely more deserving than I shall ever be. She is my heart. She is my Ma.
Of course she wasn’t my Ma, we weren’t related. But she wouldn’t even be my so-called adopted mother if the operation the cardiovascular surgeon recommended didn’t work. She wouldn’t even be Judy B. Loraine, her full name. If she didn’t get the transplant, she would be dead.
This woman who I’d known for less than two months but who had saved me and infinite ways would be on this earth no more and I would be alone, just as before I met her.
Which only reminded me of Mark. Was that the reason I pushed him away? Did I sense that what he offered was too good to be true? Or a ruse? I was used to being on my own, fending for myself. Looking out for the boys in the shelter who weren’t as street smart as me, keeping them safe. I knew better than to put my faith in one person – even if that person had shown me nothing but loving kindness – who would soon abandon me like all the others. Pity me. Then turn me to the streets.
Exactly like last time.
I’d come on to him in that very bedroom; the next day he and Bruce sent me to the shelter. The circumstances were different but the same rule applied. I had experience getting kicked out of that very house, by that very man, because of sexual things. Even if he wasn’t humoring me, why the hell would I give myself over to him again? Why should I trust him? Had anything really changed?
I closed my eyes. But before I slept, the nurse entered and brought me the worst news of my life.
“Ma is going to have to stay, love,” she whispered, sliding the documents in front of me. “We’re going to keep her at least a week to monitor her situation. Her vitals are bad and she is in critical condition.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m afraid not, baby,” she said, dropping to my level. She placed her hands on my shoulder and breathed heavily. I tried to stop the flood of tears from welling but there was nothing I could do. I blinked hard and a barrage of tears slipped down my cheeks and fell onto my pants and shirt.
The nurse stayed with me for five more minutes but then had to leave. She wiped her hands on her frock and brought me a candy sucker — a glistening light blue Tootsie Pop — but then left. And just like before, I was entirely alone.
If Mark was here, you would still have someone. Even if he didn’t want to love you, you would have someone.
But I refused to entertain that possibility. It was better to be alone.
Chapter 22
Mark
* * *
I stepped into my office and forced the events of the morning from my mind. I didn’t want to think about the boy. I wanted to wash my sheets, sterilize the furniture, throw out the bed. I was embarrassed and ashamed. Clearly, I’d transgressed some boundary he’d put up and made him deeply uncomfortable. Was it the pacifier? I didn’t want to fucking think about it ever again.
I forced my mind to the Pressure Free Agency and the deals I was trying to close. This afternoon, I was on-boarding a new agent and had two deals I was working on and wanted to put on the books before September. They were both long-term deals, not the kind of things that would close overnight. The first client was a widow who wanted to sell an investment property that his wife had managed. It was a summer home on Lake Minnetonka. The man didn't want the memories associated with it anymore. It was too difficult for him to keep up the property and get on with his life. But it was way overpriced and I didn't think it would sell for at least a couple more months. The second client was a middle-aged woman who was looking to buy an investment property. If I had any brains, I'd put two and two together and try to unload the first on the second. But I figure that would probably cross a boatload of ethical lines. Which I sure as hell wasn’t going to do. Not when I was getting my business back on its feet.
I slid into the BMW and pulled up to the office. Rachel greeted me the second I walked into the door.
“Mark –" she said, thrusting a handful of papers in my direction. "Where hav
e you been? I need you to go over this right now. It's the Longfellow estate. They need to sell by next week. Otherwise they're going to pull their business and go with an investor."
"Goddammit.” I smiled briskly at Rachel and retreated to my office. I promptly closed the door and studied the papers. Sure enough, if I didn't get the home on the market ASAP, the Longfellows were going to leave. How could I let this slip through the cracks?
I got to work. Around lunchtime, I ordered from a local's shawarma place on Portland Avenue and got three chicken shawarmas. One for Rachel, two for me. I liked the garlic sauce more than the sweet sauce, but it always made my breath smell and I had too many meetings today to worry about that -- so I’d have to deal with it.
After lunch, I analyzed one of the two major deals with Rachel in the front office. It wasn’t looking good. At the end of the spreadsheet, Rachel turned to me and grimaced.
"It's not going to work, Mark." Her expression was not positive.
"Fuck. You're right."
"They want way too much. We’re never going to be able to move it in their timeframe.”
"I know, Rachel. You're absolutely right. I should've been honest with them from the fucking start.”
“Mark…” she began, looking up from the calculator. “I hate to pry, but… You seem off.”
I sighed. “It’s nothing. I swear to God.”
“It’s not nothing, Mark. I know you too well--”
I raised my hand to silence her. The room spun before my eyes. “It’s a boy.”
Rachel’s eyes shot open. “A boy?”
“Yes, Rachel. A boy.”
She mulled this over. “What kind of boy?”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” I said, sinking into my chair. “A young boy. But I’m not going to tell you more. I’m not going to be the adult man whining about the twink who doesn’t talk to him.”