Page 62 of A is for Aftercare


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I slip a third finger inside him and move them back and forth slowly until his arse relaxes completely around them. I withdraw them and reach for the condom. My cock is so hard it's starting to ache. There's a little pool of pre-cum glistening on the bed. I roll the condom on and cover my length in lube. I kneel between his legs and push his knees up so his thighs are high and wide. He grips my biceps as I slide into him slowly.

“Oh, fuck, Sir, you’re sobig.”

He's taken me plenty of times before, but it still feels good to have him admire my cock. I press my hands onto the bed on either side of him and slowly make love to him, my hips moving in a lazy rolling rhythm. His eyebrows twitch together, and his lips part. I can see the strain on his face each time my cock drives deep and strokes his prostate. I dip down to kiss him, stroking my tongue over his. He hums against my lips, and I feel his soft, needy breaths against my skin. Red heat splashes over his chest, and sweat bejewels his skin. He looks utterly stunning. I stare into his eyes, wondering why it's taken me a week to make love to him rather than fuck him.

My release draws near, making my balls tighten and my cock ache. I drive into him harder until every deep thrust tugs a groan from his throat. His cock jerks and spurts milky cum between us. I snap my hips harder and faster for the last few seconds it takes me to tip over the edge. I groan and dip my head to his shoulder, breathing harshly as my cock empties.

I roll off him, pulling him with me, and we lie facing each other, sweaty and panting, still looking into each other’s eyes.

“That was amazing, Sir,” he whispers.

I press a swift kiss to his lips and squash his stomach against mine, feeling the squidge of his cum between our bodies. He relaxes against me, his head cradled against the crook of my shoulder.

“Do you still want to stay the weekend?” I ask.

He smiles at me sleepily. “More than ever.”

“Good.” I kiss the tip of his nose. “Because I have plans.”

“You do?”

“Aye. We’re going to play tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.”

“It will be,” I promise. “Let me clean you up.”

He clings on to me. “Hold me a while longer?”

“With pleasure, Archieosaurus.”

He doesn’t laugh this time. He just gives me a content, sleepy smile and snuggles closer to me. I bury my nose in his hair and hold him close, feeling the heat of his body and smelling the scent of his cum in the air.

15

Archie

We spend a lazy morning in bed before having brunch and heading out for a walk. It's Hamish's suggestion, but I'm happy to go, even though the dark clouds in the distance do look a little ominous. I'm surprised when Hamish reaches for my hand and holds it, absently running his thumb back and forth over my skin as we walk. The air is fresh as we head onto a bridle path that runs along some fields and then into a wood in the distance.

“Do you do much walking?” I ask.

“Sometimes when I need to think. I did a lot as a boy.”

Uh-oh. “You need to think now?”

“No.” He glances at me. “I thought you wanted to get to know each other, but if you’d rather go back to the water tower and spend the whole day fucking, I’m okay with that too.”

I laugh. “I’m good with a short walk, Sir.” I nod to the clouds. “I think it’s going to rain soon.”

“It might blow over.”

I’m not convinced.

“You said you walked a lot when you were younger?” I ask.

“Aye. Elsie and I had to walk a couple of miles to and from school most days. In the summer, some of the other lads in the village and I would take off into the fields and walk for hours. One of them, Graeme, had a black-and-white collie we took with us.”

We pass a couple of dog walkers who don’t hide the fact that they’re staring at us and our joined hands. We must look like an odd couple not just because of our different ages but also because he’s a giant of a man, and I’m anything but. I smile sweetly at them. Not that it helps mollify their judgemental expressions. Equally, I’m not going to let go of Hamish’s hand and pretend we’re not together to appease them. Thankfully, Hamish doesn’t let go of my hand either.