Chapter Nine

Honourable Post-Lesson Jerking

Larkin

Well.

That was totally freaking awesome.

My body was, like, humming or something as I drove home. Tingling. I kept replaying everything that had happened, reliving my first sexual experience with another person—that very first moment Seb had touched my dick. His hand was so big, fingers long and strong, his nails short and neat and clean. I'd catalogued every single aspect of the moment, storing it all away in my brain. The sight of him touching me. The brain-melting pleasure as he brought me to the brink over and over.

In the history of first handjobs, that literally had to be the best.

And the one I'd given him had seemed to be pretty good, too. I mean, he'd come a lot , and he'd been groaning like it'd felt amazing. I'd almost come in my pants at the sight of it. And his dick was…

I gulped, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

Bigger than the one in that video with Asmo.

It was, like, actually beautiful. Majestic or some shit. Big and thick, with cool veins winding up the length, and a head that was a little more tapered than mine. And it'd been crazy hard. I couldn't really believe I'd made him so hard, but he had mentioned that he hadn't jerked off yet today. I'd be a total mess if I skipped my morning jerk sesh for sure.

I was practically strutting as I walked into the house and dropped my keys in the lopsided clay bowl my mom had made years ago, when she was going through her pottery phase.

"Is that you, my little flower?" Her voice came from the living room over the sound of some old-timey song my parents loved. They still had a freaking record player, for god's sake.

I shuffled to the door and peeked my head around, because I was a bit of a mess. She'd probably guess that I hadn't come straight from work, and I really didn't want her asking what I'd spent the evening doing. My mom had this weird, gentle way of pulling information out of people just by sitting there and gazing at them with the big blue eyes I'd inherited.

I definitely hadn't inherited her ability to be a good listener, though. I talked too much for that.

I huffed in amusement when I saw my parents dancing in the living room like a pair of total dorks. Dad was spinning Mom under his arm, which made her long, sage green kaftan float into the air. It was almost the exact same shade as her skin. I had my mom's bright pink hair, and her eyes, but my dad's skin tone and build. He was tall and lanky like me—I used to curse the gene that somehow prevented me from bulking up and being a ripped gym god—and his hair was a pale mauve. His human customers loved it. They thought he was just a kooky old dude who liked to dye his hair interesting colours.

"There he is!" Mom beamed at me, swaying languidly in Dad's arms. "How was work, sweetpea?"

"Work was good." I fidgeted a little, suddenly extremely aware of the dried cum all over my chest and stomach, and the stickiness of lube in my underwear. "Gonna go take a shower—"

"Come and dance with us, flower!"

I made a strangled sound in the back of my throat. "Oh my god , Mama, no ."

"You used to love dancing with us when you were little." Dad chuckled, spinning Mom again. "Bopping up and down like a little grasshopper."

"Oh, you were so cute ." Mom rested her hand on Dad's chest and gazed up at him with glimmering eyes. "Do you remember the time he marched into the yard when we had friends over for dinner and demanded we watch his new dance? In his little daffodil pyjamas."

Dad gasped dramatically, covering her hand with his. "Let me find the photo album."

I groaned, checking my phone to make sure I hadn't accidentally butt-dialled any of my friends and they were hearing this. "We do not need to find the—"

"And you just jumped up and down, yelling some song from your bedtime CD—oh, what was it again?" Mom asked as Dad wandered off. "Something about a ladybug."

"I'm going now. You two are the worst. Goodnight."

"There's dinner in the fridge if you want it, sweetpea!" Mom called as I beelined for the stairs.

"'Kay," I called back, determined to have a shower before I did anything else.

"I love you! So much!"

I huffed, but yelled back, "I love you too."

"I love you, Son!" Dad then called from somewhere else in the house.

My head fell back in exasperation as I stomped up the stairs. "I love you too!"

As I reached the top of the stairs, my little brother's door opened and his head of lavender hair appeared. "Do you love me too, dickface?" He snickered.

"I love it when you shut the fuck up, buttmunch."

Nolan just snickered again, ducking back inside before I could shove his head as I passed him. We shared a bathroom between our two rooms, so I made sure to lock both doors before getting undressed. Heat crept into my cheeks as I stuffed everything into the hamper. I may have still lived at home, but I did my own laundry, so at least Mom would never see the evidence of my first sexual experience.

It almost didn't feel like it'd really happened, but at the same time, I was hyper aware that it had. I guessed I felt a little different—mostly just unbelievably satisfied. Seb sure did know how to edge a guy. And make them come stupidly hard. Multiple times.

My skin grew hot under the water as I remembered the last time. I'd kind of… lost control a little, frantically fucking his fist as I hunched over him. It'd just been really hot to jerk him off and make him come. I didn't mean him specifically . Obv. Just… the general act of stroking a dick that wasn't my own had been really hot.

Although Seb's dick, in particular, was really… nice.

Of course, so far it was the only one I'd ever been up close and personal with aside from my own. There were plenty of other nice dicks out there that I'd soon get to touch though. I'd bet Gabe's dick was ridiculous, although the thought of going anywhere near it still made my stomach clench in an unpleasant way. It was just nerves. I just hadn't had enough lessons yet. A single handjob wasn't enough to make me a master. I'd need to give Seb lots of handjobs before I earned that title.

I was okay with that. That would be… totally fine. Quite pleasant, actually.

After drying off, I pulled on my pyjamas. My mom had gone through a clothes-making phase, a tie-dye phase, and an embroidery phase at various points over the years, so my oversized T-shirt with slightly crooked seams was a pink-and-blue tie-dye with a giant daisy embroidered on the front. And my pants had little caterpillars on them.

Holt had got dinner for us at the office earlier, so I wasn't hungry. I usually jumped straight on my computer to game with my buddies when I got home, but I was pretty tired after the three gigantic orgasms I'd had tonight, so I climbed into bed to play on my phone for a while before going to sleep.

When I unlocked it, my conversation with Seb appeared, and my belly swooped. I stared at the messages we'd sent earlier, then scrolled up a little. We'd had each other's numbers for a while because of work, but we'd only ever sent stuff like, Holt on his way , and, omfg holt's being such a d-bag today . That last one had been me. Seb hadn't replied. Because he was all professional and stuff.

Yeah, well, our… relationship def wasn't just professional now. We'd touched each other's dicks. He'd edged me until I thought I was going to lose my mind, and it hadn't even been for all that long. I wondered how many lessons it would take before I could last, like… an hour. Probably a lot. A lot of lessons. Well, that was fine. I was dedicated. I would selflessly let Seb stroke my dick for however long it took for me to be in complete control over my orgasms.

Lowering my phone, I glanced down and saw a boner tenting the sheet. With a sigh, I put my phone on the nightstand after setting my alarms and turned off the lamp, then reached into my pants.

"How are you not done yet, broseph?" I asked my dick, but I did the honourable thing and started jerking it. I couldn't just leave it like that. Poor little guy.

My own hand felt pretty boring after experiencing Seb's, and my orgasm was kind of weak and unsatisfying—just a dribble of cum coming out that I carelessly wiped up with the inside of my pants—but it made my eyelids droop heavily. Snuggling up on my side in a ball, I replayed the evening again and again as I started to drift off to sleep.

For some reason, my mind kept drifting back to the moment when Seb had grinned at me, before we'd even started doing anything fun, when we'd still been talking about stuff at the kitchen island. I was pretty sure I'd never seen him smile like that before—wide and unguarded and… real. A real smile.

I was still picturing it when I finally dozed off.

—

"Fucking shitballs."

I'd overslept, turning the majority of my alarms off without even really waking up. It wasn't until my phone had dinged with a text that I jolted awake and reached over to grab it, my heart already racing like it knew I'd fucked up before the rest of me did.

When I saw the text from Holt, telling me he was on his way into the office, then checked the time, my gut bottomed out in a hella unpleasant way. I scrambled out of bed and into a suit, hammered on the bathroom door until Nolan finally unlocked it and let me in to brush my teeth, then flew out of the house, yelling a goodbye to my parents, who were serenely eating breakfast in the kitchen.

Figuring I was already going to be late, I stopped to get Holt a coffee on my way in to sweeten him up a bit. He was definitely going to be at least a little hungover, which meant he'd be a total d-bag for a few hours. Until he got some sugar in him or something. Honestly, my boss was kind of like a toddler sometimes. He probably didn't even notice all the stuff I did that kept his days running smoothly and stopped him getting all huffy and grumbly. Like turning on his computer and all the lights in his office before he got there. Making sure the water jug on his desk was filled. And… um…

Okay, it was just those two things, but I did them really well. I even put ice in the jug sometimes.

It wasn't until I was hurrying down the corridor in the basement and rounding the corner that I remembered what had happened the night before, all of it flooding into my brain when I saw Seb standing in his usual spot outside the door, leaning a shoulder on the wall as he read the paper.

I almost dropped the cardboard cupholder in my hand. Heat flooded my face and my balls tingled, dick twitching.

"Hey, bro," I said too loudly, trying not to stare at his long fingers casually holding the paper.

They were wrapped around my dick last night . And it felt redonkulous.

He glanced up, and my mouth went dry when his honey-brown eyes met mine. Now all I could remember was seeing them all dark and heavy-lidded as he watched himself jerk me off. My gaze drifted down to his mouth. He'd looked so… different when he'd smiled at me last night. With that real smile. Not the tiny, barely there one he offered people at work.

"Morning." He sounded totally normal. Like last night hadn't even happened. Like we hadn't made each other come.

Shit, maybe the handjob I'd given him had been weak. My gut burned with the urge to prove that I could do better. Like, right now.

His gaze roamed briefly over my hair as I approached. My hand reflexively started to rise to check that the bun I'd thrown it into wasn't too messy, which meant I almost spilled three hot drinks all over my shirt.

"Overslept?" His lips twitched.

I flushed, glancing down at my poorly knotted tie and wrinkled shirt. "Yeah." I darted a look at the closed door. "Holt already here?"

"Got here a few minutes ago."

I winced, apprehensively asking, "How's he… seem?"

"Not as hungover as last time, but a little tense. Think he's just waiting for Taylor to quit upstairs." Seb nodded at the cupholder. "One of those mine?"

"Oh. Yeah." I fumbled for his hot chocolate. "I specifically asked them not to put any syrup in it this time for you."

"You can have it," he said casually, reaching for one of the other cups. "I'll just take the coffee."

"What?" I stared at him. "But you asked for hot chocolate."

He just shrugged, taking a sip of the drink that was supposed to be mine. I huffed.

"Why'd you ask for it if you were just gonna take the coffee?"

"Alright, I'll have the hot chocolate if you want," he said in a flat voice, making me jolt back and cradle the hot chocolate protectively.

"I wasn't saying I wouldn't have it, dude. I'll drink it. For you."

Something flashed in his eyes, but he just tonelessly said, "Very noble of you."

"You're only, like, the fifth person to call me that this morning," I joked, waving a hand, then finally reached for the door handle with a sigh. "Guess I better go in and face the beast."

I heard Seb let out a tiny amused huff. "Hopefully Taylor quits first thing."

"I kind of wish I was up there to see them all reacting to Holt's balls plastered everywhere in the office."

"And his ass," Seb deadpanned. "Don't forget he photocopied his ass too."

I snickered, opening the door and stepping inside. Holt's office door was slightly ajar, so I didn't bother to knock as I swept inside and brandished his coffee. "Don't worry, boss man, I got you."

Holt looked up from where he was hunched over his desk, wearing the emergency sunglasses he kept in his drawer. His suit was a little crumpled, tufts of pink-tinged black hair falling from his sloppy bun, but he looked nowhere near as shitty as he had the morning after he met Taylor.

I snickered, walking over to place his coffee in front of him. "How was karaoke?"

He cringed, taking off the sunglasses and wiping his eyes, smearing streaked remnants of black eyeshadow everywhere. "It was… very… I have no idea." He squinted up at me. "Where did you go?"

My gut clenched. I managed a shrug. "Just home. Didn't feel like it."

"So you, Larkin Fairchild, were more sensible than I was last night." He dragged his coffee cup closer and hunched over it. "I feel cheap."

"You were celebrating," I said in his defence, perching my butt on the edge of his desk. "I wasn't."

I just got several amazing handjobs from your werewolf bodyguard instead of embarrassing myself onstage. Pretty sure my night was better than yours, broseph.

"Do you think he'll actually do it?" Holt asked me nervously, and it took me a few seconds to work out what he meant.

"What, quit?" I cocked my head. "You know him better than I do, bro. Think he's got the gums to do it?"

"The… gums?" Holt squinted at me, sinking lower in his seat.

"Yeah. You know, like nads or balls, but not gender-specific."

Holt just sighed and rubbed his face. "I think you mean gumption, Lark."

"Is that what gums is short for? I didn't know that."

"I—" His forehead connected with the desk before he shook his head weakly. "No."

"Okay, well… whatever. Gumption, then. Think he has the gumption to do it?"

Holt lifted his head and nodded emphatically, then winced, then glared at me as if his hangover was my fault. "Yeah, he does. He's brave."

"He's gotta be if he's into your diva ass," I teased, which earned me another glare.

"I am the last person in this place who could be called a diva."

"No, Seb is," I said automatically, then flushed, hurriedly scrubbing any memories of last night from my mind before Holt could start sensing my horny emotions. Shit, I better start, like, properly shielding them so he didn't catch on. "Anyway, better get to work."

Holt just took a shaky sip of his coffee and groaned like he was dying, so I slipped out of the room and flopped down into my desk chair. As I waited for my computer to boot up, I idly replied to texts from my buddies that had come through in the night, asking where I was and why I wasn't playing with them.

I didn't tell any of them what had actually happened—not even Hans, my best bro. I just said I'd had a late night at work and been really tired.

Of course, that made Hans reply with, Late night WORKING on wrestler D? [winky face]

I squirmed in my seat, gaze shooting to the closed door.

Okay, so here was the thing.

When I got the job as Holt's assistant, I'd said a lot of… potentially arrogant stuff to my buddies about making my way through the wrestlers. Playing wrestler bingo, if you will. So after a while, they'd started asking which of them I'd tapped, and I'd kind of… gotten around the questions by laughing and winking and saying stuff like, ‘Wouldn't you like to know' and ‘Which of them haven't I tapped, bro?'

Looking back now, it felt kind of… gross. I felt kind of gross. All the wrestlers were awesome, nice people, and I'd just been seeing them as big half-naked bodies, ripped muscles and pretty faces. Shit. I'd sort of… totally objectified them, hadn't I? I was part of the problem.

Now I just felt kind of crappy. The hot chocolate wasn't even helping. I didn't think any of the wrestlers actually wanted to, like, date me or anything. They'd made it clear they'd be down to fuck, but hadn't given any indication that they were interested in more . So… it wasn't like I'd be using them. Was it?

I looked at the door again. I kind of wanted to talk to Seb about it. Ask him if I'd been a total sleazeball. He probably thought I was one. I'd literally asked him for sex lessons so I could fuck my way through the wrestlers with confidence and experience.

I bet Seb was all… romantic and committed and stuff. I bet he wooed the people he wanted to date, buying them flowers and hot chocolates and holding their hand and edging them into mind-blowing orgasms. I bet he and whoever he ended up with would be like my parents—madly in love after years of marriage and dancing together like a couple of dorks in their living room on a Monday night.

I fidgeted restlessly in my chair. Sure, that sounded… nice, for some people, at least. But I wasn't ready for that yet. I wanted to experience stuff first. All different kinds of stuff. That was the rule , right? Go wild in your twenties, then start thinking about settling down. It was literally illegal for me to not sow my wild oats while I was young and carefree and ridiculously horny all the time.

Although, my friend Pam had been with her boyfriend since we were all eighteen, and they were still super happy. Already starting a proper life together. They had an apartment and everything. That just sounded scary to me—being with the same person for my entire life.

I mean, I guessed it had its upsides. You probably stopped caring about, like… farting in front of them. Or saying something stupid. Or being nervous about stuff. And it was probably nice to always have someone to talk to—someone who actually wanted to hear everything you had to say. Someone who would make you feel better when you were feeling crappy or sad or overwhelmed.

I found myself looking back up at the door and wondering what Seb was doing. Well, I knew what he was doing—reading the paper, like he did every morning. Glancing with disinterest at my desktop, I realised that I, for once, could not be fucked to do any work.

Maybe I could quickly scan the news on my phone, then go out there and talk to Seb. Just to pass the time. I could say something really insightful and clever like, ‘Have you seen what's happening in London? Jeez. Crazy.'

Not that I knew what the fuck could be happening in London. They'd run out of tea or something? Their ‘football match' had gone badly? Or maybe I could find a crossword online—a really easy one, on a kid's website or something—and saunter out there to casually say, ‘Oh, not doing a crossword today? I just finished one.'

Wait, why was I trying to think of ways to talk to Seb? I could just go out there and talk if I wanted to. Not that Seb ever had much to say anyway. Although… it'd been kinda nice talking to him last night. He'd actually seemed interested when I started rambling about my parents. God, probably not the sexiest thing to do after giving each other handjobs.

I was still just sitting there staring blankly at the door when the one to my right was suddenly whipped open, before Holt rushed past me in a blur.

"Taylor's on his way."

I sat up straight. "He did it?"

Holt was already gone, the door slamming shut behind him. I gulped down the rest of my hot chocolate and threw the cup in the trash, then spun my desk chair in a slow circle as I stared down at my phone, scrolling social media.

A photo popped up on my feed of Gabe, in his human skin as well as full drag, with his arm thrown around Taylor's shoulders. They both looked totally plastered. In the background, Holt was onstage wearing a sparkly gold top hat, his face contorted into an extremely unflattering expression as he screamed into the mic.

I snickered, zooming in on Holt's face to screenshot it before sending it to him in a text. Then I set it as his contact photo on my phone, so it'd come up every time he called me.

My head popped up as the door opened, my pulse leaping until I realised it was just Taylor and Holt. Taylor was dragging Holt along by the hand, his pace clipped and determined. I opened my mouth to congratulate him, but he spoke before I could.

"You might want to go do something else for a while, Larkin." He was pulling Holt directly toward his office.

I blinked at them in mild confusion for a second, before finally noticing the boner in Taylor's pants.

"Oh my god, ew. " I scrambled directly over my desk to get away as quickly as possible, stumbling for the door. Slamming it behind me, I turned and stared up at Seb with wide eyes. "Evacuate to a safe distance, bro. I think boss man's about to get his back blown out."

Seb's mouth twitched as he folded his paper. "Eloquently put."

"Seriously, Taylor looked like a man on a very horny mission. I'm getting out of here until it's safe."

"Where you going?" Seb asked casually as I started heading down the corridor.

I stopped and turned back, cocking my head. "I dunno. Might just go lie down in the ring for a while."

He nodded once, briefly pursing his lips. "Not going to hang out with the wrestlers?"

My belly fluttered unpleasantly, guilt now mingling with the nerves that rose every time I went to hang out backstage. "Um… nah."

Seb gazed at me in silence for a long moment, then straightened and tucked his folded newspaper into his back pocket. "We could go check out Taylor's new office."

We? I gulped. My dick twitched enthusiastically, even though… he couldn't mean another lesson right now, could he? At the office? During the workday?

Why did that sound so hot?

But, I mean… Holt was the boss, and he was currently getting dicked down in his office by his hot dadbod human boyfriend. It wasn't like he could get mad at us for doing something similar.

It wasn't like he'd ever know.

My belly clenched with excited nerves. Maybe Seb literally just meant taking a look at Taylor's new office and nothing more, even though we'd helped Holt get it ready, so we already knew what it looked like. Either way, I was down.

"Yeah, okay," I said, trying to sound totally calm and casual, like I didn't care one way or another.

I was pretty sure the obvious boner forming in my pants gave me away though.