Chapter Eleven: Ryan

I could get used to having Oscar in my house. I still have to work, but he spoils me by getting up early to make nutritious breakfasts, he packs me lunches, and there's dinner on the table when I get home. This week, I made an effort to schedule minimal visits outside of Denham, wanting to maximise my time with my boyfriend, and it has been so worth it.

It's been a long time since I've felt like I was someone else's priority, and I hope that Oscar can see that I'm making him mine, too. I know that right now things are new and shiny, and that we're in that exciting ‘honeymoon' period of the relationship, but I feel like we have a genuine connection.

Our age gap still worries me, but with how mature Oscar is, I often forget that he's as young as he is. And he really does seem to only have eyes for me, even though he lives with a group of hot, young, queer men. I can't see the appeal in myself, but I can see that his attraction to me is genuine.

He's spoilt me for any other men, I muse as I shut down my computer on Friday evening, excited for the weekend ahead. I'm also dreading Sunday night, because that's the night Oscar will return to the station for his next two weeks of work.

"Big plans for the weekend?" Sarah asks me as we lock up together, making sure any of the medications are secured in the safes, along with any cash which missed the bank run yesterday.

Usually, I crack a joke about my wild party plans, but today I hesitate and blush, which catches my vet nurse's keen eye.

Her jaw drops and she blinks at me. "Holy shit, you actually have plans, don't you? Romantic plans," she adds as an afterthought, smirking at me knowingly. Then she reaches over and pushes my shoulder with her outstretched palm. "You sly dog: keeping all the juicy goss to yourself."

"Well, I'm not going to go spreading rumours about myself, Sez," I laugh.

"Yeah…you're not getting out of here without telling me all about your date, Doc." She folds her arms and tilts her blonde head, arching her eyebrows in a way that reminds me of Oscar. "Go on: spill. Name, age, occupation? How'd you meet? How's the sex?" She waggles her eyebrows as I splutter.

"Oscar. He's" —I clear my throat— "in his mid-thirties. He's a stationhand in Yalardy. We met…well, that's a long story, actually, but we met back in Brissie. I had no idea he was out here."

"Skipping the cradle-robbing for a moment," she teases, rolling her wrist, "you're skimping on the good stuff. The sex?"

"I'm not—"

"Ryan. Come on. Have you seen some of the straight guys around here? I'm living alone with my cats for the foreseeable future. Give me something sexy to work with."

"You really want to think of your boss having sex?" I ask her incredulously. "With another man?"

"Okay, scratch the straight men: have you seen you ? Silver foxes are in right now, and you, my friend, are one of the foxiest."

"There are so many HR violations happening right now," I mutter, making her laugh.

"What HR?" Sarah asks me cheekily. "Do you need to report me to yourself, bossman?"

I groan. "I swear this is a lawsuit waiting to happen."

"I think we're good," she shrugs. "You're not the creepy old boss hitting on his young receptionist." Her smile fades away. "But if I am actually making you uncomfortable, I'll stop. I know I can be a bit full-on."

"I'm always uncomfortable talking about sex outside of…" I trail off, catching myself before I can give her more information about my private interests than necessary. "Anyway, no, you're not really making me uncomfortable. In fact, I've missed having friends to shoot the shit with. It's not as easy to do from the other side of the country."

"I'm glad to hear that," Sarah grins at me, looping her arm in mine as we leave the clinic, locking the doors and setting the alarms as we go, "because now that you've admitted that we're friends, you're gonna tell me everything about your new boy."

I snort. I'm the Boy , I think wryly, replying, "Ask your questions and I'll tell you what I can."

* * *

Dinner with Oscar on Friday night is fuelled by an undercurrent of excitement and anticipation. We get the bulk of the weekend to ourselves, barring any emergency calls, and from the moment I stepped across the threshold of my villa, the tension between us has been escalating.

I swear, Oscar has been deliberately teasing me with light touches and sweet, chaste kisses. He's edging me without doing anything overtly sexual, making me crave more of him with every brush of his hand over my shoulder or dusting of his lips over my cheeks and forehead.

Nothing even remotely flirtatious is said, though. We talk about my day and which animals I treated, then we switch over to Oscar's observations of the town and how much he enjoyed a lazy day spent sunbathing on the beach behind my house. From there we toss around plans for the weekend. It turns out the Shark Bay markets are happening on Sunday. We agree that it sounds like a fun event to explore, and if we want to spend Saturday in bed so we have the energy for a day out on Sunday…well, why not? At least, that's my logic, and I'm sticking with it.

"Or," Oscar laughs, sounding amused and indulgent after I make my suggestion, even as he carefully stacks our dishes into the dishwasher, "we can check out Shell Beach? I was reading about how unique it is and I kinda want to see it."

"You know, I haven't actually visited it," I consider, with a frown, feeling a bit like a bad local. I know I'm originally from Queensland, but I've lived here for a couple of months now and I should have made more of an effort to explore the surroundings of my new home. I pop the dishwasher tablet into its spot, shutting the lid for the compartment before shutting the front of the dishwasher.

"Then I guess that's settled," his tone is definitive, and it makes me smile. It eases some of the tension I didn't realise I was carrying to have him make the decision for me. He smiles and continues, "I'd like to get some fish and chips and do the Aussie thing of eating 'em at the beach, too." Leaning in conspiratorially, he adds, "I haven't actually had any fish and chips since I've been here. In Australia, I mean."

"That's sacrilege," I sigh dramatically, shaking my head. "I guess I'll have to teach you, then, Daddy."

"I'm game for anythin' you want to teach me, darlin'."

Somehow, I don't think he's talking about food anymore.

* * *

Waking up together on Saturday morning without the pressure of either of us having to work is blissful. The sun filtering through the gaps around the blinds is already nearing uncomfortably warm, especially with Oscar wrapped around me like some kind of cuddly octopus, but I'm too comfortable and happy to mind. At some point during the night, we must have kicked off the sheets as they're tangled around our ankles, but I find I prefer being able to see the full expanse of Oscar's smooth, inked skin in the morning light.

My cock, already half-hard in its morning state, fills more as I drink him in.

A tiny pang of wistfulness hits me as I recall so many mornings like this spent with Maddy. I don't feel as though moving on is a betrayal or anything, and I know he would have wanted me to love and be loved again, the same way I would have wanted him to eventually find love if our roles were reversed, but I still miss him.

I know I'll always miss him, and that's okay. Oscar understands that. He would never ask me to hide or change that, either.

Besides, it's not that Maddy wouldn't have wanted me to grieve for him —because I know he would definitely have grieved me if I'd died before him— but he wouldn't have wanted me to spend the rest of my life alone.

Plus , I think as a smile curls my lips, he would have thought Oscar was hot, too. He would have approved. Hell, he might have invited him to join us.

Come to think of it, Maddy definitely would have approved of Oscar's Daddy Dom ideologies, too.

Oscar's dick twitches against my hip, pulling me out of my musings. "Mmm," he almost purrs, slowly sliding one tattooed hand down my furry chest and belly before wrapping it around my now very awake cock, "good morning, handsome." He leans back and then winks at me. "And good morning to you, too."

I chuckle, but the sound is cut off with a gasp as he starts to stroke me, using my precum for lube.

"Yes," he drawls, shifting his position so our faces are closer together, "a very good morning indeed."

"I've got morning breath," I warn him, and he shrugs without letting go of my cock.

"Don't care. I'm not minty-fresh either."

Then he's pressing our lips together and I forget all about my concerns, thrilling in this sweet, languid meeting of tongues and lips in the early morning hours. I wriggle my hand out from underneath him to reach in between our bodies, wanting to stroke him, too, and I grin against his mouth when he bucks his hips into my fist, the sticky wetness around his crown giving away how worked up he is, too.

Despite our instant chemistry, we've been taking things relatively slowly. We've jerked each other off, exchanged blow jobs and have frotted to orgasm a couple of times over the last few days, but he hasn't pushed to fuck me, and I haven't felt the need to go further, either. Until now.

Now, with no time constraints and nowhere to be, we have the time to do whatever we want. And I want him inside me. Reluctantly releasing his cock, I bring my hands to his firm pecs and gently push him until he's on his back. The lines of confusion between his eyebrows smooth out as I crawl over him until I'm straddling his hips, rocking mine so that our cocks slide together. I'm careful to balance my weight so I'm not putting it all on my knees, but his big, calloused palms grip the tops of my thighs, steadying me as I smile down at him.

"This is new," he says, sounding delighted. "Somethin' you want, darlin'?"

Rolling my hips again, I nod. "I think I'd like to…what's the saying? Save a horse and ride a cowboy?"

His dick jumps against mine while his fingers tighten on my thighs. "Yeah?" his question comes out breathily. "You got a particular cowboy in mind?"

" Mmmhmmm ," I lean forward a little, dancing my fingertips up the lines of ink on his hairless abs and chest. "There's a very sexy Texan in my bed. I think he'll do."

Oscar's head falls back into his pillow as he laughs. "Oh, he'll do, will he?" He swats at my bare butt, the sting of his palm meeting my flesh making me whine with pleasure. "Do you think bratty boys get what they want, honey?"

The playful words spoken so sinfully make my heart race. I bite my lip and widen my eyes. "I wasn't being bratty, Daddy. I was just trying to be cute."

" Fuck ," he drags the word out, his voice turning gravelly. "You're too perfect, darlin', you know that?"

Cocking my head, I press my luck, even as a cheeky smile tugs at my lips, refusing to be repressed. "Do perfect boys get what they want?"

Oscar's Adam's apple bobs. "You know you can have whatever you want with me, baby." Moving his palms, he rubs my thighs and then my knees. "You can handle this position without hurtin' yourself? Do you need pillows under your knees?"

This sweet, considerate man.

Swallowing back a lump of unexpected emotion, I nod again. "I can handle it," I answer, then add, "but pillows might still make it more comfortable."

"Good boy for bein' honest." The words make me shiver with pleasure, and he smiles as he grabs the two pillows from my side of the bed and gets me to lean and lift my knees one at a time as he gets the supports in place at his sides.

His hands move to my hips, then cup my bum, his fingers lightly teasing my crack. "Do you have lube, darlin'?"

Instead of answering verbally, I lean over to the bedside table —trusting his strong hands to prevent me from toppling over and onto the floor— and open the drawer, pulling out the first bottle I find and handing it to him as I right myself.

Oscar snaps the cap open and drizzles some onto his fingers, then pauses before clicking the lid shut again. He brings the bottle to his nose and sniffs at it, then reads the label. "Crème br?lée flavoured?" His tongue darts out to taste the viscous liquid on his fingers and he hums appreciatively, teasing, "And here I thought you were sweet enough already."

"I…um…" My cheeks burn as I recall why I bought the flavoured stuff to begin with. I'd had a fantasy of sucking a Dom off while fucking myself on a toy. Not having the energy or interest to actually go and find a Dom, I'd settled for spit-roasting myself between two toys. The flavoured lube had made sucking on the silicone cock more palatable.

"Oh, I'm gonna need to hear the story that has put that look on your face," Oscar tells me playfully. The next moment, though, he brings his lubed fingers to my hole, and I forget everything except the renewed desperate need to have him inside me.

" Daddy… " I whine, rocking my hips, trying to urge him to stop teasing and start fingering me. I don't even stop to consider how easily the epithet comes to me now.

"Be patient, honey. Let me enjoy this. It's our first time, and I wanna do it right."

If I wasn't so incredibly horny, I'd find that sentiment incredibly sweet. But I just want him inside me already!

"Please don't tease me," I beg, my eyes fluttering shut as two fingers finally breach me. It burns, but it burns so good . Gasping, I demand, "More, Daddy, more."

Scissoring his fingers, he gives me almost exactly what I'm craving. There's definitely a hint of pain to this stretch, but not as much as I imagine I'll get once I'm riding his perfect dick.

"Condom?" he asks when I start to bounce on his fingers, letting out a series of ‘oh, oh, oh's alongside my moans of enjoyment.

I shake my head. When we got together at the station, we both disclosed our negative STI statuses, and we acknowledged that we're both on PrEP. Nothing has changed for me, and I trust that he'd tell me if anything had changed for him, too.

Still, I force my eyes open to look down at him and cautiously say, "Only if you want. I'm still good without."

"I am, too. Just checkin', though."

"I appreciate that."

And I do. Even though we're dating exclusively, we are still very new to each other. It means a lot that he takes sex as seriously as I do, and that he respects me enough to check in before we do anything new.

My thoughts are derailed as he removes his fingers and reaches between us to slick himself up. Then he holds his cock by its base and helps me to get into position so I can sink down on him and—

"Fuck, yes, baby," Oscar praises on a moan as my butt settles on the tops of his thighs, and I take a moment to relish the feeling of having him fully inside me for the first time.

"You feel so big, Daddy," I say and grind down, trying to get him as deep inside me as possible. "You're stretching me so good."

He grunts when I raise myself up and then drop down again, his fingers digging into the globes of my arse with almost bruising force. I love the additional ache and sting of it, the pain adding to the pleasure mounting beneath my skin.

I repeat my movement, picking up my pace as I start to bounce in earnest.

Oscar tilts his head back, rolling his hips underneath me. "That's it, darlin'. Ride me," he thrusts up, " nngh, yeah —just like that. You're such a good boy, ridin' Daddy's cock like a pro."

I'm babbling a new litany of ‘oh, oh, oh's as I ride him, panting as a less-pleasant ache develops in my knees.

"D-daddy," I exhale, disappointed in my failing body, but knowing that he'll be upset if I hurt myself or withhold my discomfort, "m-my knees."

It's like a switch is flipped, and the arousal and enjoyment in his expression is replaced with concern. "On your back?" he asks, smoothing his arms up and down my sides. "Or do you need to stop?"

Stop? Abso-fucking-lutely not.

Instead of answering him, I pull him with me as I roll off him and onto my back.

He chuckles and adjusts his position, settling my legs around his waist, gentle and considerate of my sensitive joints. "Alright, no stopping. I got you, baby."

And he really, truly does.