27. Vincent

TWENTY-SEVEN

Kent's bathroom is surprisingly enormous. A long double vanity with under-mounted sinks takes up most of the far wall. There's a shower stall, covered entirely from floor to ceiling with glass tiles in different shades of blue. The large round soaking tub, big enough for at least three people, near the window, has an edge at least a foot around dotted with candles and small plants. I'd never have guessed Kent to have such an opulent bathroom.

In the corner, a hamper overflows with laundry cascading to the floor. Amid the overall tidiness, it's the one moment of disorder.

"How is your bathroom so …"

"Large?" Kent shuts the door, giving us some privacy from the cat. "The previous owners combined the existing bathroom with a small nursery to create the spa getaway of their dreams." He motions to the tub. "They split. And I got custody of their luxurious bathroom."

My stomach clenches as Kent starts the tub and grabs a bag of Epsom salts from the vanity's cabinet. Pools. Tubs. The thought of soaking in my own filth makes me queasy. I need to be honest. That's the only way this won't blow up in a fiery blaze.

"I don't really do pools. Swimming of any kind." I wince and wait for his reply.

"It's a tub. Not a pool." Kent scratches his chin, his fingers lost in his whiskers. How is confused Kent even sexier?

"I know, it's just …" I sit on a small wood bench against the wall. "Being in water. In my own … grime, let alone someone else's …" I shake my head.

Kent offers a thin smile and gazes up at the ceiling. He walks over, puts his hands out, and I give him mine.

"What if we showered first?"

My fingers fidget in his hands, and the skin on my scalp prickles. How long would we have to scrub to be clean enough for a bath together? Kent lets go of my hands and opens a cabinet. A jumble of items comes tumbling out, and he attempts to capture and shove them back in.

"Well, this is what happens when you tidy up quickly," he says, scrambling to pick up a box of cotton swabs, a nail clipper, and various small bottles. Turning around, he's holding a new toothbrush out to me.

"Let's start with our mouths and go from there."

"Wha … how …" I stammer.

"This old guy has a few tricks up his sleeve." Kent winks and grabs a tube of toothpaste. "Especially for you."

I unwrap my toothbrush. The bristles are soft, and I prefer medium, but it'll suffice. The gentleness of the brush isn't the end of the world. And Kent did this. For me.

Kent finishes with a spit and asks, "What do you think?" He comes from behind, his minty breath on my neck. "How's your mood?" He runs his palm over the dome of my head, and my cock surges in my pants. His thoughtfulness, patience, and empathy creates a tiny firework display in my core.

I nod slowly, his beard prickling my neck. He kisses me right where his whiskers tickled and pulls away. "There's my Vincent."

My Vincent. His. I'm his.

He starts the shower, then the tub, as I undress. When I slide my briefs off, my cock snaps up, aroused by Kent's appetizer of attention. He chuckles when it slaps my stomach before pointing at the floor, and I'm rewarded with a soft kiss on my neck. Kent palms my erection, whispering, "Be a good boy and get nice and clean."

I turn my face, and our mouths connect. There's no hesitation. My tongue darts in to meet his, and he slides his thumb over the tip of my cock, already slick with precum.

"The shower isn't big enough for both of us. Why don't you go first, and I'll get the tub ready."

With the hot water running, I get in and do my best to scrub every molecule of my body with the bottle of soap Kent hands me. A bar of green soap rests on the shower's shelf, but I have no intention of touching it, thank you very much. I open the liquid soap, and a cool, crisp aroma fills the shower. Peeking at the bottle, the tiny print reads "Cucumber and Mint." While it's no orange and honey, it does the trick. As the soap reaches my ass, a tingling sensation spreads, reminding me of the lingering irritation from Kent's whiskers, and a smile crosses my face as I recall his beard buried in my backside.

As I exit the shower, Kent kisses my cheek, takes my hand, and walks me to the tub.

"So damn clean," he says with a mischievous grin. "I scrubbed the tub. There's a little salt, some lavender, that's it."

I shake my head. Still damp from the shower, I can't hide the tears in my eyes.

"What's wrong?" He takes my face in his hands, his fingers rough. "We don't have to."

I take a deep breath, blow it out, and say, "No, it's not that. It's you." Kent's soft smile pulls my focus. "You make me feel like I'm the only man in the entire world."

"Vincent Manda. To me, you are." He kisses the top of my hand and says, "Now, watch your step."

I climb into the tub, only about three-quarters full, and the moment my feet hit the bottom, my shoulders drop as the lavender scent washes over me. Kent doesn't let go of my hand until I'm seated.

"I'm going to jump in the shower and scrub every inch. You relax." He walks to the stall, but before jumping in, stops and says, "I almost forgot."

He jogs over to the vanity, his dick flopping with each stride, and pushes a button on a small black box.

"For my smoothie."

Scooting down, I rest my head on the back of the tub, and strumming guitars fill the room. The sound is small, only slightly louder than the shower, but when the flute joins, and Christine's voice arrives, "Oh Daddy" covers me like a weighted blanket. Fuck yes.

With my eyes closed, the sound of water and Fleetwood Mac takes me away, and when I open my eyes, Kent stands naked before me.

"I think I dozed off," I murmur.

"Good."

He steps into the tub, and peppers my head with kisses, migrating down to my nose until I let out a small whimper when his lips brush mine. He lies at the opposite end of the tub and clasps onto my legs. With closed eyes, he lays his head back, completely relaxed, as he massages my calves.

Kent's fingers press and push, and when I pull my legs up a few inches, they slide down to my ankles and feet.

"Oh, fuck, yes," he moans. His thumbs press into my arches, and I spy his cock stiffening under the still water.

With both hands, he gently massages and caresses my right foot, focusing on each individual toe. I ease my left foot to the base of his dick and glide the ball of my foot up and down his shaft. Kent releases a tiny sigh, followed by more moaning. I slide the foot in his hand up to his chest. My toes tangle in his thick chest hair, and he grabs my ankle, pulling my foot up and kissing my big toe before taking it in his mouth and softly sucking.

"Kent?"

"Mmmh," he mutters, with my toe still lodged between his full lips.

"My mood," I say. "It's, um. Peak."

His eyes pop open, and without removing my toe from his mouth, he mumbles, "Fuck yeah."

Laughter pours out of me. The sound of him attempting speech with my toe in his mouth tickles me more than his tongue lapping at my foot.

Removing it, he says, "Come. Sit."

Kent places a small, white towel on the ledge, smoothing it out with a few soft pats. I push myself out of the tub and do as I'm told, relishing relinquishing control.

He lowers himself between my legs, glances up at me, and smiles, his goofy grin driving me wild.

"My handsome boy."

Now, I've just turned forty, for god's sake, but also, when Kent calls me his boy, every ounce of blood rushes to my groin to celebrate.

"Yes," I whisper. "Sir."

Calling him this, something I've never done but flies out of my mouth like a T-shirt in one of those silly cannons at sports events, just clicks. Surrendering myself to Kent, letting him praise me, have his way with me, and be submissive to him is the ultimate act of power, and my body vibrates with arousal.

My shoulders shudder as he licks the tip of my cock. He pushes himself up and places his hands on my chest. Cupping and massaging, his fingers find my nipples, stirring up more heat in my center.

"Lean back," he says, and when I do, I'm startled by the warmth of the wall. "Heated tiles." He gives me a sultry half smile and then takes the top half of my dick in his mouth. He begins to guzzle and slurp, his beard—damp from the shower—quickly becoming soaked with spit and precum as he makes a thorough mess of sucking me off. I fucking love it. My core gurgles with pleasure, and I think about what I can do for him.

With his attention elsewhere, I hoist my right leg out of the water and place my foot on the ledge. Inches away from my cock, which is currently down his throat, my toes are now within reach.

"Fuck, you're my best boy," he says, saliva dripping from the whiskers on his chin. "Letting me suck every inch of you."

He licks my first few toes, covering as much surface as he can, before returning to my cock which is waiting patiently. He creates a pleasant rhythm, alternating between my foot and dick. Feasting on me, he grunts and groans, occasionally glancing up at me with his bright, beautiful brown eyes.

"Kent?" I say when he's moving in between my foot and shaft.

He looks up at me with an adorable toe-filled grin. "Yeah?"

"My mood. I want your cock in my mouth now. Please, sir."

He laughs and gently sets my foot back in the tub.

"Since you asked so nicely." He stands, water cascading off him, and moves in between my legs, leaning his mouth to mine. Tracing my lips with his tongue, he cradles my face and whispers, "Will you suck me like a good boy?"

I nod, and he kisses me, his beard damp and soft on my face as my tongue whirls in his mouth. My hands migrate to his shoulders, and gently, I maneuver him to the spot where I sat. Grateful the tub isn't full, I brace myself on the edge and lower myself to my knees.

Kent's dick is just as hard as last time. He must have taken one of those pills. Thank you, modern medicine for vaccines and rock-hard cocks. Before I take him in my mouth, his fingers find my chin and bring my gaze to his.

"You're amazing, you know that."

With a gleeful flushed face, I nod, basking in Kent's praise.

My lips stretch around his long, plump dick, and the minty flavor of his soap coats my tongue. Cautiously, I move my head down, attempting to take as much of him as possible, but I only make it about eighty percent of the way before my gag reflex kicks in. Pulling back, Kent places his palms around my ears. He's trying to help me move off him.

"You okay?" he asks, again lifting my face. I can't hide my watery eyes, and he uses his thumbs to wipe the tears away.

I lower my head and nod, catching my breath and whispering, "Yeah."

"Go slow. It's not a race, and you don't have to share. I'm all yours."

I slap Kent's cock against my cheek, the skin-to-skin contact dispatching a rush of arousal to my groin. Heeding his advice, I return to sucking, not taking as much in. I use my right hand to help cover the real estate of his massive cock while holding myself up with my left. Giving myself occasional breaks, I rub the head over my lips, kissing and licking the sensitive tip, and spanking my face with his dick. Kent leans back on the toasty tile, and quiet noises of pleasure escape his mouth, joining the music, filling my soul with affection.

My hand moves under his balls, massaging, remembering how he loved the butt plug, wishing I'd brought it over. With a bit of pressure on the spot he loves, Kent leans forward, his palms on my upper back. Taking his hint, I swing my right foot forward, allowing him access to his target. His fingers travel down until he reaches his desired location.

"Your ass. It's literally perfect. No notes."

I smile the best I can with his cock lodged in my mouth and his furry stomach pressing on my forehead, the soft hairs tickling my eyelids. His hands land on my ass cheeks and pull them apart.

"Vincent Manda, do you have a license to be this hot?"

My small laugh gets lost in Kent's midsection as his cock throbs in my mouth. What he's doing, and perhaps about to do, is pushing the throttle for him.

A finger circles my hole, rubbing, patting, and applying pressure before another joins it, creating a symphony of pleasure I've never experienced. Using lube from a tiny tube on the tub's ledge, his fingers glide and slip around my ring, sending a shudder through me. Sucking his cock while he does this might be the end of me.

He leans over again, spreading me as wide as he can, and says, "Are you ready to take me from both ends like a good boy?"

I mumble, "Yes," the best I'm able, and he slides the tip of his finger into my hole. I clench around him, and removing his dick from my mouth, press the side of my face into his thigh.

"Vincent? You tell me, and I stop," he says.

"No, just give me a minute," I say, counting breaths, sending relaxing energy to my body. My face, pressed against Kent's fuzzy thigh, makes me think of him as a big, cuddly bear. Right now, the bear's cock is pressing against the other side of my face.

He removes his finger. His hands cup my ass, and massage gently, occasionally stretching and rubbing the skin around my hole. I continue taking deep breaths, allowing the warmth from being between his leg and dick to settle me. I take him back in my mouth. I'm more relaxed. More ready.

"Okay?" he asks.

"Uh-huh." Now it's my turn to attempt speech with a dick down my throat.

"Spread those legs for me," he commands, and I widen my stance. "Good boy."

He resumes pulling my ass cheeks, his fingers playing around it, until again, only the tip enters. This time, there's no discomfort, only pleasure. The pressure of his finger triggers nerves and sensations completely new to me. Cautiously, I arch my back, an invitation for more.

"Deeper?" he asks.

Pulling off quickly, I say, "Yes, sir. Please." Spit drips from my mouth. "Deeper."

"How far? Show me."

Carefully, Kent's finger burrows. I pull off him and take deep breaths until it's all the way in, and when I resume sucking, he pats my ass with his free hand. "That's my good boy."

My insides smolder, and I buck against his hand, finally pausing, saliva dribbling on my chin, to say, "Try another. Please."

There's more lube, and then Kent adds a second finger. The walls of my ass press against them, creating the most glorious friction. Suddenly, a slap on my ass creates a loud whack that echoes against the walls and startles us both.

"Sorry, I got carried away."

"Damn," I say. The sweet sting tingling. "Do it again. Please."

Authorized to continue, Kent now adds slaps to his repertoire of ass play, and the beautiful bite stirs a jolt of pleasure in my body.

Lost in the moment, I tremble when his other hand reaches under and grabs my cock. Delighting in him taking up so much space inside me, the added sensation of him jerking me off sends shockwaves down my spine.

I pull off for a second and smile up at him. A stream of spit and precum stretches from my lips to the head of his cock, and his wide grin makes my chest radiate with comfort.

"There you go," he says. "You look so beautiful taking my cock and fingers, Vincent."

As his fingers swirl inside me, unfamiliar sensations ignite. My whole being surrenders to the overwhelming pleasure of Kent Lester. It happens quickly. My orgasm begins, and unsure what to do, I continue sucking and fucking his fingers, speeding up, moaning, trying to let him know I'm close.

"That's it. That's it." Kent's voice, slow and steady, guides me like a skilled captain bringing his ship into port. "I've got you, smoothie. Come for me like a good boy. Let it all go."

The freedom. Having Kent inside me. Stroking my cock, my seed boiling over as he talks, praises, and unravels me from the inside. I exhale and welcome the release. Shooting into Kent's submerged hand, my entire body vibrates as my orgasm rips through me. His fingers slip and slide, attempting to catch it all.

"Good boy. There you go. There you go. I've got you." He's got me. All of me. His voice flows over me, and moans and quick breaths escape my lips, stretched around Kent's fat cock as he pumps the last drops from me.

"Vincent, I'm close. Can I come on you? On your back? Your ass? I'll wash you off. I promise."

I pull off him and say, "Please. Shoot all over me."

He stands, sending the bath water sloshing.

He continues jerking himself while maneuvering behind me. I rest my face on the tub's edge, the tiles warming the towel and soothing my cheek.

"Will you take my cum like a good boy?"

"Yes, sir. I want it. All of it."

I do want it. Him. All over me. And then it lands on my skin in fast spurts. Warmer than the water, sticky, and glorious. With my permission, Kent solidifies his possession, covering my lower back and ass. His rigid cock presses against me as he spreads his cum in my every nook and cranny.

"There you go," he says, and I hear an enormous sigh. He lowers himself into the water, mumbling, "Vincent, you … I … fuck."

He lies back, catching his breath, and I crawl onto his torso, snuggling into him. "So fuzzy." With Kent, I'm unhinged. Discovered. Relished. The talking. The checking in. Going at my pace. Equally concerned about my pleasure as his. It's like being truly seen for the first time, and my body practically floats from the euphoria.

Showered and naked in Kent's bed, I'm welcomed by fresh, crisp sheets and my sweet, fluffy, furry bear. I lay my head on his chest, wrap my arm around his soft stomach, and breathe him in.

"That was … hot," he says, nibbling my head.

"Really?"

"Are you kidding?"

I chuckle, and my breath blows the thick fur on his chest.

"Even the … sir?"

"Vincent. You can call me whatever you want."

Kent's nibbles morph into mouthing, and his slowed heartbeat and breathing signal me to relent to sleep. We lay quietly, my eyes heavy. And then it happens.

My heart trips in my chest as a surprise pounce pummels my feet.

"Kent … Kent!" I whisper-yell.

"It's Sweetums. He always sleeps with me," he murmurs.

"I can't sleep with an animal."

"Vincent, here's the issue …" Kent's voice sounds slightly more awake. "If I shoo him out of the room, he'll cry and paw at the door all night. If we let him stay, I promise he won't move from the foot of the bed. He's a good boy."

My belly stirs with Kent's "good boy," and I take a breath, attempting to return to the euphoric afterglow I was experiencing moments ago.

"Okay."

I snuggle into Kent, doing my best to ignore the creature on the bed. Lying on his chest, I'm able to drift off, the sounds of Kent Lester's low breathing lulling me to sleep.

Cracking one eye, the sunrise bleeds through Kent's blinds, but something blocks my view. It's the cat. Sweetums. He's sitting six inches from my face. Staring at me with giant yellow eyes.