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21

12 - Sore

2:45 pm

The ride home from Jennifer’s is a little too quiet.

“What’s up?” I finally ask, as we pull up to the loft.

He stirs, as if being awakened from a deep sleep, “Oh, nothing. Just…thinking.”

“About?” I never thought I’d actually ask someone what they were thinking about. Seems ridiculous to me to have to coax information out of another person. But, if I start that ‘I never thought’ list right now we’ll be here all fucking day.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head and shoots me a genuine smile, but he’s clearly lying.

I unlock the front door, turn off the alarm, get a glass of water and decide he’s got about three minutes to finish pouting. It’s unattractive.

I don’t know why I’m surprised. This is a very Justin thing to do. We’ve had an excellent day so far (by his standards) - hot sex, more hot sex, visit with his mother complete with all the food one fat ass can scarf in a sitting…and yet, he’s all morose and moody and making himself miserable.

I walk up to the couch when his three minutes are up and push him onto his back without saying a word. I spread myself out on top of him and kiss him until he’s arching his back, breathing hard and thinking about nothing but what's going on here and now.

I use my tongue to clear his mind of anything other than physical want and need. This is the best way I know how to tell him to snap the fuck out of it.

Justin

I got really quiet on the way home from my mom’s. I just made the stupid mistake of thinking about how my life and all the decisions that I’ve made have affected everyone around me. I started thinking about how things could be different if I’d done this or that. You know, playing the ‘what if’ game. Brian fucking hates it when I do that, so I didn’t let him in on what was going through my head.

When we get back to the loft I head straight for the couch and sit down. I’m not done being moody just yet. I stare straight ahead and let all the sad thoughts swimming in my head gather and unify until I feel like shit. I can’t get through a birthday without a few moments of self-pity. It’s just my thing. And I figure if I spend the other 95% of the day happy for what I have and smiling and grateful, well then I’m allowed this ten minutes.

I’m about to sigh, push past it and stand up, but then Brian is next to me and pushing me over and kissing me. This’ll work too…

We lay there for a long time, tongues stroking and hands petting. The little sighs that fill the air make me smile. I’ll never get over how good we are at this – not just sex, but affection.

“Better?” He smiles.

I nod, “Thanks.”

He pushes himself up on his elbows to take some weight off of me, “Any other day I would smack the back of your head and tell you to get over yourself.”

I laugh a little, “Thank you Mr. Compassion.”

“Now,” he sits up and straightens his clothes a little bit, “there are decisions you need to make.”

I furrow my eyebrows and wait for him to continue.

“Everyone wants to see you on your birthday and though I told them all to go fuck themselves, I realize the decision is not mine. So, we can stay here and you can see what other Tantric tricks I’ve learned…or, we can hop around town and collect your wittle pwesents.”

He smiles in that ‘I know you would pick sex with me over your next breath’ kind of way and I just shake my head and laugh a little.

He starts to suck on the soft skin just under my ear and then he does this thing where he breathes heavy into my ear, getting the side of my face all moist and wet and yeah…the decision’s been made for me.

“The presents will still be there tomorrow,” I huff as I pump my hips a little. “But,” I start and watch his eyes go wide, “my ass is seriously sore, Brian.”

“I’ll be gentle,” he leans down and hovers over my face as he whispers, “very gentle.” He pushes me down again and then there’s warm breath gliding over my skin and hands moving to all the good spots. The thought of Brian being ‘gentle’ with my poor, abused ass makes me shiver all over.

“Promise?” I whisper as he kisses me. He bites my lips a little, runs his tongue over his own teeth marks and then grabs my waist. He rolls me onto my side and lays his palms flat out over my ass. We stare at each for a minute and I hear my breath catch, anticipating whatever wicked thing he has planned.

He slips a hand down the back of my pants and then leans over, getting as close to my face as he can, “Promise.”  The word is punctuated by the brush of a fingertip over my hole. I hiss and arch my back.

Fuck. Me.

3:45pm

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