Chapter 12

Twelve

OLIVER

I moan the next morning when I feel a cold wet finger pressing inside my hole and then Hunter’s soft, warm lips against my thighs as my eyes flutter open. I spread my legs for him and he kisses me.

“Morning, beautiful,” he murmurs against my lips. I groan as he adds a second finger and scissors them, prepping me for his cock. His other hand slides up my thigh and his lips press to my knees. “Wanna try something new today. You game?”

I moan as he slips a third finger inside me. “Yes,” I gasp.

He grins. “I’m gonna take a bit longer stretching you because you’re going to get double stuffed today, baby.”

My eyes widen. “What?”

“I have a toy I want to use on you, a dildo, and I want to be inside you at the same time.” He presses more kisses to my legs as he continues to stretch me. “You can safeword at any time if it gets to be too much, but I think you’ll like it.”

I nod and moan again as his fingers move inside me. It already feels so damn good. He nudges my prostate a couple of times and my cock oozes precum. He spends a couple more minutes stretching me with his fingers before he slides out of me all the way and I whimper at the loss.

He grabs the toy, a large bright pink silicone dildo with ridges and different sized bumps running the length of it. It’s as long as me but not quite as thick. He slicks it up with lube and I spread my legs wider, feeling my hole flutter in anticipation. “Ready, baby?” he asks, pressing it gently against my entrance.

I nod, my hands gripping my legs to keep them spread wide for him. “Yes, please.”

“Love when you beg,” he purrs, then kisses me, before pushing on the dildo and letting it slip inside me, making me moan as it brushes against my nerve endings. My thighs shake as he shoves it in, inch by inch. “God, that’s hot. Jesus, Oli.”

I preen at his praise and moan again as he slides it out a little and back in, lighting up those nerve endings once more and making my cock throb. He does it again before he’s planting kisses to my thighs and purring, “So pretty, Oli. You look so good stuffed full with a toy.” He moves it out a little before pushing it back inside, and it hits my prostate, making me buck and shout.

He repeats the gesture several times until I’m whimpering. “Christ, Hunter, I need you. Please. Need your cock.”

He leaves the toy inside me and slides on a condom before slicking himself up with lube. Then he’s at my entrance and I can’t believe I’m going to have his cock inside me along with the dildo.

“What if I can’t?” I say, my skin prickling with nerves. “You’re not small either, and the toy…”

“You can,” he assures me, running his fingers through my hair. “You can do it, Oli. You can take it.”

I nod. I believe him, and even more importantly I trust him to take care of me. He pushes against my hole and I gasp as my body accepts the intrusion. Fuck, I’ve never felt anything like this before. I feel like a Thanksgiving turkey, stuffed to the brim. It burns for several moments as my body adjusts to having both cocks inside me. Hunter rubs his hands along my stomach and legs in a soothing gesture. “So good,” he says. “So good for me, my sweet Oliver.”

The combination of his words and the incredible pressure inside me has tears stinging at the corners of my eyes. “Fuck,” I cry, then gasp in pleasure as my body loosens and he slides all the way inside. I can’t stop moaning at the incredible pleasure that overwhelms me, at how full I feel, how owned, how utterly and completely taken.

Hunter breathes out as he slides both himself and the dildo out slightly and then back in. I have my hands up on either side of my head, my eyes closed and mouth parted in bliss as he fucks me with the dildo and his cock. I already know I’ll be coming hands free. It feels so good with each and every thrust I don’t need to touch myself.

“God, you feel amazing,” he rumbles. “You look so damn hot like this, Oli. Stuffed to the brink. Your hole is so perfect, baby.”

I gasp and buck my hips when his angle changes slightly and he pegs my prostate again and again. “Oh, God. I need to come,” I cry.

“Do it, baby,” Hunter tells me. He thrusts himself and the dildo inside me two more times and I’m spraying hard, my back arching, my head thrown back, my cock pulsing load after load of my release all over my stomach and chest, some even landing on my chin. I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard in my life. God, that was amazing.

“Fuck, yeah, baby,” Hunter grunts, “so damn hot.” Then he’s slipping out of me and pulling off the condom, but leaving the dildo inside as he kneels between my legs and strokes himself hard and fast, before his load joins mine, covering my naked body. He leans over and laps up the sticky mess, moaning around it, before gripping my hair and pressing his mouth to mine.

HUNTER

After dozing for a brief moment we get up and shower before eating breakfast and then making the drive to Bethany Beach in Delaware. After this it will be Atlantic City and then back home. And I can’t help wishing we could extend the trip so I could spend more time with him, let him be himself for just a while longer. I hate the idea of returning home and watching him shrink back into himself, when the real him is so vibrant and beautiful.

We catch a movie on the beach at dusk that evening after we arrive. The following morning we visit the local farmers market where we pick up some fresh vegetables and local honey for Oliver’s tea. Seeing the fresh flowers reminds me of the bouquet I got for him and how much he loves it. I have caught him smelling it a few times when he thinks I’m not looking. Such a small gesture, to make him so happy.

We enjoy swimming more, and I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of him in that red speedo. He hasn’t gone back to his regular trunks since the first day, and I can see how much more confident he is in his body. Every part of him is a masterpiece, just waiting to be discovered.

On our third night there I take him to bed again, desperate for him, for his body; desperate to touch and kiss, and caress; desperate to feel him around me, to be inside him, knowing our time is coming to an end, and so overwhelmed with emotion I can barely breathe. I knew this was short term. I knew we were on borrowed time, but my heart didn’t get the memo apparently, because it wants so much more. I want so much more.

I pepper him with kisses as I make love to him, his legs wrapped around me and our bodies slick with sweat. Holding him in my arms afterwards is as delicious as it is painful. Because I don't know how to let him go.

We spend one final day relaxing around the campsite, walking the trails, even catching some fish to grill for supper. Oliver cooks it with a splash of olive oil, some lemon juice, a sprinkle of parsley, minced garlic and salt and pepper. It’s wonderful.

That night I coax him to bed again and his eyes light up when I bring out the handcuffs and another toy.

“I’d like to try something a little different,” I tell him, showing him the prostate massager. Since he loved the last toy we used, I’m hoping he’ll find this one just as stimulating. “I want to put this inside you, and then I will be controlling it from my phone. I want to say some things, and have you repeat them. If you do, it will vibrate inside you. You may come at any time, but you won’t get the pleasure of the massager unless you repeat what I say, and you are not allowed to touch yourself.”

He nods.

“Color?” I ask.

“Green,” he replies. I smile and stretch him for a moment before slicking the toy up and pushing it inside him. He swallows it greedily and moans as it fills him, his cock hard and heavy between his legs. I press a button that allows the head of the massager to rotate inside him and he mewls, his cock spasming as precum leaks down his shaft and his hips buck.

“Fuck!” he shouts.

“Good?” I say, and he nods.

“More.” His voice is so needy it has my cock growing hard.

“Repeat what I say and you can have more,” I remind him. “Ready?”

He nods again, but then his brows furrow when I say, “My name is Oliver Jones.”

“What?” he starts, but I hold up a hand. He swallows.

“My name is Oliver Jones,” he repeats, and I press the button on my phone, his cries of pleasure echoing throughout the small space as the toy goes off inside him. “Fuck,” he pants.

“I am thirty-six years old,” I say, and he looks at me as his chest rises and falls. I won’t make him say anything he doesn’t want to say. He can safeword at any time.

“I am thirty-six years old,” he says, his voice softer than the last time, and I press the button again. It goes off until I press it, telling it to stop, and he’s trembling, sweat clinging to his ivory skin. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he gasps.

“I am a queer man,” I say softly. He pauses longer this time, and I see the tears spring to his eyes. My Oliver. My sweet, beautiful, Oliver.

“I am…a queer man,” he stutters out, in between sobs and I press the button again. His cock spasms as I let it go on for several moments before pressing it again to stop. His skin is flushed, his cheeks wet with tears.

“I am good,” I say, and he closes his eyes and sobs, but eventually he repeats, “I am good.” The toy goes off again and he bites his lip hard, his body shaking.

“I am worthy,” I say, and he shakes his head. “I. Am. Worthy,” I repeat gently. He squeezes his eyes shut as more tears fall, but says the words, his voice unsteady.

“I am enough, exactly as I am,” I say, and tears are spilling down my cheeks now, too. There’s a long pause before I say, “You don’t have to believe it, Oliver, you just have to say it. Believing it will come with time.”

There’s an even longer pause before he chokes out, “I am enough, exactly as I am.” He curses and screams my name when I press the button this time. He cries more.

“I am allowed to disappoint my parents,” I whisper, and wonder if he heard me when he doesn’t respond. But then he says it, too, and I press the button again.

“Please,” he sobs. “Please, Hunter.” I don’t even know what he’s asking for and I don’t think he does either, because he can come whenever he wants, he knows that. His cock is straining, and I can tell he’s close, ready to explode as soon as I hit the button again.

But when I say, with my chest heaving, “I promise to chase my own happiness, even if it means I lose people in the process,” his eyes squeeze shut again, before his gaze locks with mine, and with a choked sob he says one word.

“Red.”