When Mickey was sure he was back on the right path to get to the grocery store, he focused on Roger’s incredible blowjob skills. He was impressed Roger hadn’t shown any signs of slowing down or tiring out yet, but that led to an intrusive line of thinking.
How many dicks had he sucked? How many at once? Did he like that?
Mickey let his hips roll up, and he grinned when he heard Roger gag. Snatching Roger’s hair, he took full advantage of the straight stretch of road he was on and pounded his way down Roger’s throat.
He could see Roger’s eyes watering, and his cheeks were getting red. Ah? But his hand, his hand was caressing Mickey’s thigh so reverently.
Roger could suck all the dicks he wanted in the world. How many gave it to him just like this?
None.
Mickey had to take a break as he turned into the grocery store. He headed to the back of the lot, gasping as Roger bit at his piercing. Fuck, he almost hit someone walking across the lot.
When he was finally able to park, he shoved Roger’s head roughly down on his cock. “Fuck, come on. Suck me, come on, baby. Come on, make me come. Fuck, you’ve been driving me fuckin’ crazy!”
Roger’s responding cries were eager and wet, punctuating the obscene slick thrusts as Mickey fucked his face. He opened his mouth wide and groaned as Mickey slammed harder.
The orgasmic rush about to crash over Mickey was hot, shivering, and desperate. He’d already been denied so many times that he swore he would lose his mind if he didn’t come now. He closed his eyes and roared from sheer relief as cum finally filled Roger’s mouth.
He kept thrusting, listening to Roger’s mumbling moans and little gags until his cock couldn’t take the stimulation another second. He pushed Roger off for what felt like the tenth time, but now he pulled him up to meet his lips for a deep kiss.
The taste of his own cum was on Roger’s lips, and he sighed contentedly. He slid a hand down to slip inside Roger’s pants and grab his cock. He stroked him fast, very pleased with how wet and hard he was.
It didn’t take long for Roger to find his end, gasping against Mickey’s lips and humping his hand erratically. The kiss pressed on for long moments until Roger grunted, “Mmm, come on, master. We got lasagna to go make.”
“Very good point. Let’s get cleaned up, hmm?”
Roger was more than happy to take care of the mess. When they were both presentable again, Roger led the charge into the grocery store to help Mickey gather up all the ingredients. It was weirdly refreshing to do something so normal for once, and Mickey was all smiles as they loaded up the car.
He was looking forward to dinner with Pops more than ever, and he didn’t even care when Roger took his hand to hold while they drove.
This was nice too.
Before Mickey made the turn into the rear of the church where Pops was staying, something at the front doors caught his eye. All the happy feelings that had been circling around him evaporated. He slowed down and came to a full stop when he saw one of the doors was wide open.
The chains were gone.
“Shit.”
“What?” Roger blinked. “What’s wrong?”
Fear lurched deep within Mickey’s stomach, and he parked the car right there on the street in front of the church. He was already drawing his guns as he headed up the steps, his pulse thudding violently.
No. It couldn’t be.
“Mickey!” Roger was right behind him. “What the fuck?”
The chains were strewn across the floor just inside the doorway, and in the light pouring in behind him from the streetlamps, Mickey could see they’d been cut.
Roger saw them too. “Where’s your grandpa?”
“Downstairs.” Mickey stalked down the aisle of the sanctuary, guns at the ready, listening for any sign of a possible intruder.
Maybe it was some homeless guys bustin’ in here for a place to sleep. Maybe a bunch of kids sneaking in to screw around. Maybe it was nothing at all…
As Mickey turned the corner to the basement door, he saw a body lying on the ground. The person was wearing scrubs, face down, but Mickey recognized her as one of Pops’ nurses.
“Shit,” Roger whispered. “Who the fuck is that?”
