He laughs. “I can get on board with that.”
“Good. Do you need to fuck and run now?”
“No. I’m good for a while. One of my brothers is babysitting. We live together,” he adds. “So I don’t have to be home by a set time.”
“Then come here, sweet boy.”
He snuggles closer, lying over my arm, his head tucked into the crook of my shoulder. I dip my face to kiss his hair. He rests his arm over my chest. I’m not sure how long he’ll stay, but right now, I’m happy to soak up his warmth and doze while I hug him like I’ve been yearning to since the last time our paths crossed.
10
Corey
I get a text from Spence on Monday morning, right before I have to teach my first lesson.
Spence:Are you still coming over after work? I’m looking forward to wrecking your arse with my cock.
Thankfully, Blake taught me some of his tricks for not getting aroused during a photoshoot. I put them to good use to make sure I don’t walk into class with an erection.
It’s actually a good teaching day. My classes all—mostly—do what they’re told. My free period isn’t disrupted by having to write detention slips or call parents, so I’m able to get the work marked for two whole classes. Once the kids have gone home, I plan my lessons for the next day and leave feeling surprisingly light.
I walk to the train station and jump onto the line that will take me home and to Spence’s place. His stop is first, and as it nears, guilt gnaws at me. I should go home and see Lexi, but I really, really want to get fucked by Spence again. When the train stops at his station, I dither until the last second, convincing myself that I’m going to be good and responsible and go home instead. But I don’t. I jump off just as the doors are closing, earning myself a sharp blow of the whistle from the conductor on the platform. I ignore him and run most of the way to Spence’s apartment block, slowing my pace for the last couple of streets so I don’t arrive red-faced and out of breath.
I ring his buzzer, and he lets me into the building. I take the lift, too impatient to go up the stairs. He’s waiting at his door, dressed casually in jeans and a white T-shirt. His hair is messier than normal, which really suits him. The moment the door is shut, I put my bag down and throw myself at him. I press myself against his chest and kiss him with the lust that’s been circling within me since I got his text hours earlier. He pushes me against the wall, tugs my shirt out of my trousers, and slides his hands over my chest and back.
“Hello,” he says, chuckling.
“Hi.” I nip at his lower lip. “Fuck me, Daddy, please?”
I’m surprised at how easy it is to call him that. I know Blake calls one of his men ‘Daddy’, but I never thought I would want that sort of dynamic. But with Spence, the word trips off my tongue. He’s taken good care of me twice. I know he’ll do it again.
“I don’t have long,” I say.
“Fuck and run?”
I nod. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s what we agreed on.”
He takes hold of my tie and drags me into his living space. I didn’t see it on Saturday, as we spent all our time in his bedroom. It’s a combined kitchen, dining room, and lounge, which opens out onto a balcony. The kitchen area is ultra-modern, with grey cabinets that don’t have any handles; I guess they open by touch. There’s a round table with comfy dining room chairs around it, right next to a full-height window. The lounge area is as I expected from the photos he sent: eclectic and far more bohemian than the rest of the room. There are a couple of huge plants on either side of the dresser and more out on the patio, along with a rocking chair. Through the patio window, I can just see the river beyond. His apartment isn’t overlooked at all, which is probably a good thing because he spins me around and bends me over the orange armchair.
“I take it you don’t have time for a massage, sweet boy?”
I shake my head. “Just fuck me.”
He chuckles and tickles the back of my neck with his fingertips. “So needy.”
“I just…” I swallow. “I really need…”
“I know.” He shoves my shirt halfway up my back and kisses my spine. “I know exactly what you need.”
He undoes my trousers and pulls them down to my ankles. My underpants come down next, and then his hand smooths over my arse. He reaches around me and grasps my cock. His grip is firm, his palm soft as he strokes my length firmly, adding a twisting motion that makes me groan.
“You like that sweet boy?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
He massages the head of my cock, milking pre-cum from me, and then uses it to make my arsehole wet. He slips a finger inside me and works it back and forth, still stroking my cock with his other hand. I move my hips in time with his finger, pushing my cock through his fist and driving my arse back onto his finger.
