Emerging from my reverie, I burrowed into his embrace, accepting my imprisonment within the cell of my insemination-mind-orgasm with nothing to sustain me besides hugs and cum.
((God damn.))
I made no effort to escape his prison in light of all the pleasantness of being held as I held him back—I smiled dreamily, I relaxed, and I accepted the hand dealt me by my Creator.
((Fuck me. Figuratively, of course, but also literally. I am sooo fucked… and happy.))
I scratched his back and savored the gently lapping waves of my orgasm.
“How did you know my middle name is Peter?” he asked.
“Uh. What?”
“You called me ‘Peter’ when we came.”
“Ah. (Shit.) Um. Well. You see… it’s because you look like Peter F—I mean, you look like a Peter. Just… a generic Peter. Not that you look generic, I meant to say that you just, have this ‘Peter’ look about you.”
“Oh. Well, I like you calling me ‘Peter’. You’re the only person who’s ever called me that. It can be your nickname for me. But I need to know… how was it for you?”
I sighed in relief as I ran my fingers through his tragically short and regrettably blond hair as I gently welded my lips onto his to soothe his concern, then… reluctantly… confessed, “I… I enjoyed it. All of it. Including… especially the part where you… came inside me.” I gave him another much lengthier kiss to prove to him that I meant it. “Call it the cherry on top.”
I’ve lied to you; there was no such ‘reluctance’ to confess. I hesitated because I was stunned that dreams beneath my conscious grasp were coming true, right now, at last. This creep I loathed so much resembled my Prince Charming when I first beheld his face—
I shook his hand one morning 9 years ago, and as we stared into each other’s eyes we became doomed to orbit each other, spiraling ever closer as instinct slowly eroded my will, until I had crossed his event horizon and was robbed of all chance of escaping.
I wish for you to understand, my dear, that the option of not loving him had been a delusion.
“I’m happy to hear that,” replied my man (my strong, stylish, sexy man) once I had pulled my lips away from his to catch my breath. “But it happened kind of fast. Are you okay with what we did?”
I leaned back and brushed my hands down his temples to cup his cheeks. “I’m fine. This was bound to happen eventually.”
“Us doing it?”
I nodded, [Yes.]
“I thought you’d never go for drinks with me. But here we are. Together. I never thought you’d ever have sex with me, but now you’re on my cock with my jizz inside you.”
I swallowed. “Yes. I’m on your cock, and my pussy is flooded with your jizz. And… what a lovely cock it is; of course, your jizz is lovely, too.” ((And hungry for my egg, no doubt… Yes, every one of his sailors is eager to prove that it alone deserves the privilege of combining its genes with mine to form a human being…)) I shivered in anticipation. ((God, I’m such a pervert.))
“Thank you,” he replied.
I smiled. “You are most welcome, Tom.”
“So, uh… How long have you had feelings for me, Red?”
“I would say about… 10, 15 minutes.” It was a truth, sort of, a truth bent to the point of being unrecognizable. “Around the time I started sucking your cock.”
“Oh. That’s not… very long.”
My smile broadened but remained soft with a bittersweet triumph. “Not long at all, Tommy. Not long at all.”
“Move in with us?”
((Moving in with them makes sense if the three of us are gonna be together. I’d like to live with Judy, too, though… but there’s no law saying I can’t take turns living with her and with my new men. And then there’s the gas savings from carpooling with Tommy…)) “You have a motorcycle, right?”
“Sure do.”
“Is there room for a passenger?”
“Yep.”
I pictured {my arms wrapped around his waist, my breasts pressing through my leather jacket against his back, the wind caressing my cheeks and whipping my hair, the asphalt rushing inches beneath my toes fast enough to tear the flesh from my bones, the g-forces pulling us back and forth as our bike weaves in and out of traffic at high speeds, living with only whatever belongings we can fit in our saddlebags as we cross the continent on scenic highways and backroads, camping and fucking in national parks, plying my trade out of ancient motels to truckers and travelers to fund our adventures…} I gave his cheek a couple of gentle pats. “I wanna say ‘yes’ because I can see it working out and being exciting, but—but this is a very complicated decision—but I will say ‘yes’ eventually—but… not yet. Soon, though. It will happen, I just need a little time to get ready.”
“But I love you! I want to wake up next to you tomorrow morning!”
I shoved my nose against his neck and breathed in his deliciously boozy scent and sighed and savored it. ((I hate myself for saying this, but I must confess the truth…)) “I love you, too.” I squeezed him tight, then held his shoulders at arm’s length. “And I want just as much as you do for us to wake up next to each other tomorrow morning. But I need to come up with a plan before I can move out of my home and into yours. And you need to make room for me.”
“Oh.” His eyes briefly turned down in disappointment. “Where do we go from here?”
“Well… I’d like to know when you last got tested for STIs, to keep my other partners safe.”
“Friday, negative. Club rules require a test in the past week, though, so you can just… assume you’re safe with anybody here.”
“Oh. That’s good to know.” Not that I’m comfortable with ‘just assuming’ everyone I fuck is clean, but this bit of info would be peace of mind in the event I couldn’t remember whether I asked my sex partners about test results during a blackout. That said, I was drunk on alcohol and equally as drunk on that carnal obsession with Tom that I called ‘love’, so in that critical moment I would have been perfectly satisfied with his bill of health had he informed me that his genitals were being utilized as test articles in the development of top-secret venereal bioweapons. “Thanks. I gotta go.”
“Don’t go!”
“I need some time alone to process… us—and to get ready for the move. So do you.”
He laid his hands on my shoulders and massaged them, prompting me to relax and lean into his strong but gentle grip. “I need you now. I wanna fuck.”
“(Mmm, right there…) Me, too, so very much, it’s all I can think about, Tommy, you and your precious cock inside my cunt…” I squeezed it with my pelvic floor muscles and we sighed lustfully in harmony. “…and yet I’m stressing over this sudden change in our relationship. I… had some conflicting feelings about you before tonight. I need to learn to love you right before we try to share a roof. We need to take things slowly from here.”
“I would do anything to spend all of my time with you.”
I winced—because I felt exactly as he did. “And I would, too. But, please, do this for me at least, please let me have some time alone to meditate on us. I want to do this right. I want to do everything I can to make us work.”
“I don’t understand.”
“(Just…) please. Tommy. I love you and you love me, so do this for me. Please.”
He pouted, then made up his mind. “O… kay. But please come make love to me when you’re ready.”
I nodded mournfully. “I will. I’ll make time for us to make love, and I promise it won’t be too long before we do—I don’t want to wait any more than you do.” I gave him an aggressive peck on the lips, then started to pry myself off of his cock—but was hit by a wave of regret. I didn’t want to get off. I sighed. “Fuck it, let’s do it again.”
“Sure.”
I resumed riding him… right as my detective desires paid a surprise visit. “Tommy… are you… sure you wouldn’t like to talk about this secret of yours?”
He shook his head remorsefully.
“Not even for your Dearest Red?”
He turned his eyes down guiltily.
“Nothing?”
He said as much as he continued to focus on his belt buckle.
“Tommy. Give me something. Anything.”
He choked down the words clawing their way out of his larynx.
“Come on, talk to me, Tommy,” I whined as I humped his cock.
Tom at last outburst, “Captain Hobarth—” before cutting himself off.
I stopped riding, leaned back and sharply stared him in the eye. “What did he do?”
“He made us…”
“He ordered you and who else to… do what?”
His head shook for the umpteenth time that night.
“Tommy… You said you would do anything for your Red.”
He pursed his lips regretfully.
“You said you keep no secrets from your Nico, right?”
He nodded.
“Who do you love more, him… or me?”
His expression further soured.
“Tom… Be honest.”
“Y—you.”
“Who’s your one true love? Your happily forever after? The one you’ve been saving your heart for?”
“You… are.”
“I knew that, and you knew that I knew. And yet you tell him everything while you keep your Most Precious One-and-Only in the dark—” My throat cinched tight. “—blind to your life, to who you truly are… I want to know this hidden side of you so I can love it as much as the sides I have already seen.” Tears rolled down my cheeks.
A civil war raged in his mind, which culminated in a stalemate. “Hobarth… ordered us… to…” And that’s all he managed to get out.
“To what?” I teetered on the fence between my loyalty to Tommy and my loyalty to my own curiosity. I begged and yelled, “Tom… tell me… please!”
“I can’t.”
“Don’t you fucking do this to me, Thomas Peter Forrester!” I snapped. I shivered, balanced on the scalpel’s edge (which by the second grew sharper) dividing satisfaction and insanity.
“I’d be betraying—”
“God damn it, Tom!” I roared. “You’re supposed to love me, Tommy, confide in me, do anything for me!” I tried to remove myself. (((Don’t even think of ending this session.))) As I struggled to get off his cock I growled, “God damn it!”
“I’m sorry, Red!”
“Don’t talk to me unless you’re gonna spill those beans!” (((I won’t get off I won’t get off I won’t get off I won’t get off!))) I tried to psych myself up to dismount him with increasing desperation.
“Red, don’t go, please…”
“I said shut up!” I yanked myself off his cock with Herculean effort, whimpering at the fearful prospect of never getting to fuck his cock ever again, then stormed away—betrayed by my new lover’s reluctant lips—to lose myself within the crowd…
But not without a longing parting glance at the man I loved.
Exhausted, overwhelmed by curiosity, and troubled by my having fallen victim to my drive to mate with, of all the people, he whom I despised more than anyone or anything—that unnatural incarnation of the revolting suspension of grease and scum at the bottom of a dumpster, the source of all my misery at work, the man I told ‘no’ a hundred-thousand times knowing that he knew that—if—if in those days I had been a more courageous woman, I—I would have—I would have… pulled him into some dark and… (private) space… and… and kissed him… and (made beautiful love to him…)
Um… Oh. Right. I was leaving him behind—not relieved, as on occasions past, but reluctant.
Tired and troubled, I wandered aimlessly through the club, distracting myself with the colors and the music. Gradually my frustration waned until I was as relaxed as the MDMA would allow, and I found peace in the groove shared with me by the fluffy Technicolor crowd.