Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Edries

I ’m not sure if it’s because we’re both lonely. If it’s the storm raging outside and we’re forced together, to share a space. Or it could very well be the time of year that’s made us both compromise our judgment.

But I’m sure, without a doubt, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.

Am I concerned by the knowledge that it was with a man? My lips brush the back of his shoulder for maybe the dozenth time since I dropped us both onto our sides. His ass is still stretched impossibly tight over my cock, which hasn’t gone entirely soft yet.

No, I’m not bothered by the fact there is a man in my arms. A man who somehow fits fucking perfectly as my little spoon.

However, I do have some questions.

“Do you always bring condoms on solo vacations?” I ask.

Gabe’s snort of laughter makes me smile. But when it dies down, I can feel the sadness in him. The way his body kind of… droops. I hold him tighter to my chest, trying to force my cock deeper. That’s a comfort, right?

“I fell in love with the wrong man,” he says after a minute and my breath catches. “Two summers ago, some friends and I went on a cruise like we do every summer. I met Roux, a friend’s younger brother. I was enthralled as soon as I saw him. He told me over and over, repeatedly, that he wasn’t looking for a relationship. He just wanted a distraction—he’d come from an abusive situation recently. And… I was just convinced that he would fall in love with me if I just gave him time. He sought my attention as much as I did his, but the difference being that he would always start off the conversation with a reminder that this wasn’t that. ”

I kiss his shoulder again. Not sure how to comfort him right now.

“Last summer… he met some guys and apparently they’re who were right for him. He lives with them now. They’re talking babies and shit. I just… So I met fucking Jason, who looks stupidly like Roux and had been sleeping with him, trying to use him as both a replacement and maybe a means to get over Roux. Besides his appearance, he’s nothing like Roux. I invited him on this trip as kind of a last indulgence before I forced myself to stop being pathetic and move on. But fucking Jason canceled, while I was at the airport. So here I am. Alone and pathetic.”

“I understand that feeling,” I say, “and I know this is going to be hard to believe right now, but that’s Roux’s loss, Gabe.”

“I’m just so fucking tired of falling for the wrong man,” he says, and I can hear the defeat in his voice. The sorrow and solitude. The loneliness.

“Everyone, everyone , told me not to get involved with Bernice. They literally laid out exactly what she was going to do years ago. I didn’t listen. And somehow, I was still devastated when she told me she never loved me. That, in fact, she can’t stand to look at me. Believe me, I know what it’s like to love the wrong person.”

“Roux isn’t a bad person,” Gabe says. “I know he wasn’t at all malicious in his actions with me. He emphasized over and over that what we had was just… a distraction. He asked me if I understood that so many times I couldn’t tell you if I was still comfortable with the arrangement. But I’d convinced myself that all I needed was more time with him and eventually he’d fall in love with me, too. I wanted so mething that was never going to be there. I fooled myself that Roux would change his mind when he was fucking honest with me from the start. He kept trying to give me an out. Sometimes he’d even cancel something we planned because he knew I was into it far more than he was, and I’d convince him it was fine. I was fine. I understood.”

Feeling someone else’s pain is very strange. Maybe it’s because I’m literally inside his body right now, because I swear, I can actually feel how wrecked he is over this Roux guy. I roll him over and hug him tightly under me, wrapping my arms around him like a straitjacket.

Gabe gasps, his eyes squeezing closed. I can see moisture there.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, pressing kisses to his cheek, his jaw, his hairline. “I wish I could take this pain away from you.”

The saying that misery loves company is a complete crock of shit. I would much rather be the miserable one right now if I could take Gabe’s heartache away. I hate how I can feel him shake. How upset he is.

It’s clear he’s tried to hide it, to bury it and hope it goes away. I’m not sure he’s even allowed himself to admit it until this point.

I grip him tightly as he tries not to cry. His breaths are watery and wobbly. I press my face to his, keep him wrapped in my arms and try to hold his broken pieces in place. Press my cock as deep into his small hole as I can, just so he feels me everywhere. Knows I’m right here. I feel him. I will keep him in my arms until he can breathe on his own again.

“Sorry,” he whispers.

Nipping his jaw, I shake my head. “What do you need? Tell me. Anything.”

“Just… make me forget.”

Yeah… okay. As if he knows I’m not entirely sure how to do that, he clenches his ass around my cock and I groan. My hips move on their own, small rocks. And then the heat between us flares all over again .

I take him for what feels like hours, just like this. Never letting him move or take a deep breath. I don’t let him do anything but feel the way I invade his body. Pressing my dick deeply into him, trying for deeper with each thrust.

By the time he comes, I’m nearly asleep. My orgasm pushes me over and I’m slightly aware that condoms aren’t meant to be used twice. But at this point, I’ve fucked us both into oblivion and the high emotions in combination with endless sex have us both passing out in exhaustion.

This time when I wake up, my first thought isn’t that I’m alone. It’s that I’m not alone. Gabe isn’t under me anymore and I’m very disappointed that I’m no longer inside his body. However, it’s also a good thing because the condom is still partially on my dick and has definitely seen better days.

I head into the bathroom to clean up and then tend to the fires before climbing back into bed. Gabe is sleeping. He looks… peaceful. I hope that somehow I helped last night. Helped to make him feel better. I’m not sure that’s actually a thing, but I truly hope it is.

Unable to stop myself, I rest my hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat. It’s steady. Calm. Hypnotic in rhythm. I let my hand dip lower, but not completely to where I want to touch since he’s asleep and I don’t have permission to touch him in his sleep.

It’s hard to remember that we’re still pretty much strangers. With the things we’ve shared, it doesn’t feel that way. I think we’ve bared pieces of our souls to each other that haven’t ever seen the light of day. I know I have. The media sees what it wants and Bernice was always ready to talk to them, but I’m rather private. I keep my private life to myself, which was admittedly difficult with Bernice, who always wanted to be in the spotlight.

Gabe sighs. His hand covers mine and he pushes it down to his dick. There’s a smile on his face, though his eyes are closed .

“I can feel you wanting to touch me,” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep.

“This mean I have permission?” I ask.

“Mmhmm,” he hums, letting his hand drop to his side and giving me all the access I want.

What I want is to see what it’s like to have a dick in my mouth. I shuffle around on the bed, locating the condoms and lube because I know it’s not going to be long before I want to be in his ass again. Tight, little, perfect ass. I’ve never felt something so good. The consuming heat. The way his muscles twitch and clench around me.

It’s… maddening.

I kiss my way down his body. He tastes like sweat, dried cum, and grass. It makes me grin. I flick the tip of his cock with my tongue and he grunts. But when I pull him into my mouth, Gabe sighs. As if he’s finally home.

That is, until I start sucking on him like a lollipop. Then he’s groaning, his back arching as I suck him in all the ways I remember liking, and I focus on the way he moans and grunts.

Then I realize I could be multitasking and getting his ass ready. It’s a very interesting feeling. Not entirely unlike eating a girl and fingering her and yet, obviously entirely different. But the intent is the same, right? Does that count? Does this make me bisexual?

Well, sex with him last night might have blown up the straight bridge, and now it’s filled with curves. It probably began before that when I couldn’t stop staring at his ass in nothing but underwear and an apron. And then finding every stupid excuse to innocently not-at-all-innocently touch him every chance I got.

“Just like that,” Gabe says. “Another finger.”

I press three inside him and feel him press his ass toward me. “Yes, Edries. Deeper.”

It’s both somewhat weird and also exhilarating shoving my fingers into his ass. Does this feel good? The way he writhes under me suggests it does. I’d say that it’s because I’m sucking his dick, but I’m kind of just suckling as I play with his hole. It’s… mesmerizing .

“Good,” Gabe says. “You can fuck me now.”

Yep, that’s all it takes to change my mind from wanting to see what foreplay with a guy is like to just wanting to lose myself in his ass again. I grip the condom he’s offering me and roll it down my cock. Too much lube later, I have his legs over my shoulders as I press into him. He’s still far too tight, so I take my time, watching him closely so I don’t hurt him.

“You like big dicks,” I say.

His breathless laugh is sexy.

“Sometimes more than others.”

“Right now?”

His eyes, pupils blown wide and filled with the hottest desire I’ve ever seen, meet mine. “Yeah. Definitely right now.”

I wonder for how long. How long before he gets tired of a fat dick?

Pushing the thought away, I spend the next fuck knows how long in his ass. Bending him every way I can think of. Learning new positions. Filling the condom with my release that spills out the sides.

We clean up eventually and head out to start breakfast. Then I fuck him against the table. We open one of the packages and fuck in cookie dough while the second tray is baking. Yes, we make cookies with the remaining sweaty, cum-dripped batter.

There isn’t much time throughout the day when I’m not inside him. When we sit to eat, he’s on my dick, slowly riding me as we make it through our little portions of appetizers. We cuddle on the couch, watching movies and fucking through them.

That evening, we make a nest of blankets on the floor in front of the fireplace. While he’s in the shower, I scoop out all the soot from the fireplaces and set the buckets aside, knowing we’ll need to dump them tomorrow. Then I make sure both fireplaces are stocked with wood, so they burn throughout the night.

When Gabe returns, I take my turn in the shower and clean myself. When I get back, he’s already tucked inside the pile of blankets, condom in his hand, ass lubed and waiting for me. There’s no talk as we kiss, hands roaming everywhere while I work my cock back inside.

That’s where we remain. Locked together. Sometimes touching. Sometimes kissing. Sometimes murmuring memories we want to share, or maybe a painful memory we want to release. There’s something freeing about telling Gabe all the secrets I’ve kept regarding Bernice. Feeling his sympathy, his understanding, as he lets me confide in him, and put release it into the universe.

Maybe it’s Christmas magic, but I feel with everything I’ve kept to myself, sharing it with Gabe frees its burden and hold on me. It’s all carried away, now just a long-ago memory that I no longer need to carry around with me as a reminder that I failed my marriage. I failed at giving my kids the home and happiness that I had growing up.

Among all these moments, we fuck. Slow, fast, rhythmic, sloppy. We don’t stop moving. Don’t stop losing ourselves in each other.

If Santa visits, he sees some very naughty things and parts of us he likely didn’t sign up for. But I hope he also sees the beautiful moments we’re creating together. Because that’s what it feels like. It feels beautiful. New and maybe fragile, but at least for me, it feels like a beginning.

This time, I hope we get it right.