I reached between us, and he arched away enough to let me move my cock. “We’ll see if we can make it work.”
He gasped as I tucked my cock under his balls and between his slicked, warm, soft, incredible fucking thighs. He whimpered when my cock brushed over his balls, and he ground down on me when his shaft was pressed tight between our bodies. I bucked my hips, fucking the warm grip between his legs. He got the idea and moved with me, so that with him arching his ass up, I rubbed against his cock, then down between the squeeze of his thighs, bumping his balls each time. The glide was incredible, and so was the heat. The slick grip wasn’t quite the same as a hand, or a mouth, or any other thing I’d ever done, and even better, I got the joy of seeing Z look stunned.
“Oh,” he gasped out.
We rocked together, sweat beading on our skin. His face flushed red and a furrow formed on his brow. I put a hand on the back of his head, urging him down so I could suck his bottom lip. I fucked faster between his beautiful thighs, which I’d always loved looking at even before I’d admitted to myself they got my gears turning. He writhed on top of me and squeezed his legs together tighter. Before I knew it, the warm heat of his cum splattered our stomachs. He whimpered, and I sped up, fucking faster. He nodded and stared at me like I was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen, and that did it—my balls drew up close to my body and all my muscles tensed. I unloaded, heat rushing me, and kissed him like my life depended on it.
When I came down from my high, I remembered all those dirty things Z had talked about, and while I hadn’t been able to do exactly what he’d wanted, I would do something to make him happy. I rolled us, and he frowned when he landed on his back.
“Daddy?”
“Quiet,” I said, and he nodded fast.
“You’re such a good boy, Zayden,” I whispered, and he flushed.
I spread his thighs and used my fingers to scrape my cum from where I’d smeared his legs. He watched intently, his bottom lip between his teeth. I gathered as much as I could on two fingers and used my other hand to spread his asscheeks. He finally got the picture, moaning as he angled his hips for me. I slid my fingers into his hole, easing them in deep. I repeated the process until I had every last drop of my cum in his body.
“Thank you, Daddy,” he whispered, and I laughed.
“You’re welcome, baby. Shower?”
He grimaced, then laughed. “Yeah, no way around it.”
About a half hour later, I was in my room dragging on a clean pair of pajama pants when there was a knock on the front door. Zayden came into my room, already dressed for bed, and frowned at me. We shared a look as another knock echoed downstairs.
“Are you expecting anyone?” I asked.
“No, you?”
“Nope.”
We went downstairs together, but he reached the door first and opened it. “Oh, hello!”
Well, he must know whoever was out there. I flipped on one of the lights in the living room and came up behind him. I began to slip my arms around him, then stepped back. My mother stood there swaying gently, a backpack slung over her shoulder and a wheeled suitcase resting at her feet. She had a large wine bottle that was more than halfway gone cradled in her arms like a baby. I couldn’t be more shocked if it was the president standing on our porch. A breeze fluttered her black dress around her knees, and as I studied her flushed, gently rounded face, I noticed one of the diamond studs in her ears was missing. Her brown bob stood up on one side as if she’d been clutching at her hair, and her blue eyes were sad.
“Mrs. Darrow!” Z said, his brain apparently recovering its usefulness before mine. He flung the door wide. “What’s wrong? Come in.”
“What’s wrong,” Mom muttered as she stepped over the threshold. Z grabbed her suitcase, and Mom stretched to pat me on the head as she waltzed by me like it was perfectly natural to show up at our house at… I had no idea what hour of the night. I was feeling exhausted. “What’s wrong is I married a man who won’t make an attempt to do anything. All week I told him there was an art gallery showing and a wine tasting this weekend. I sent him links to get tickets, mentioning how nice it would be to go somewhere like that for our anniversary. It’s not even out of town, for God’s sake. I put his credit card on his desk so he wouldn’t have to look for it while he made the order. I did everything except do it myself, as usual.”
She stomped over. With a disgruntled harrumph, she collapsed onto our couch, patting it like it was a good old friend.
“Can I get you anything, Mrs. Darrow?” Z asked as I shut the door. He walked over to sit down lightly beside her. He’d always been so polite to Mom and I couldn’t ever work out why. He acted like one wrong move might end him when it came to my parents.
“Oh, wineglasses, dear. Three. Someone has to taste this wine.” She shook the bottle in his direction.
“Mom, what happened?” I asked, sitting on her other side.
“What do you think?” she nearly shrieked, and Z and I both flinched. “Your father didn’t do a goddamned thing. He didn’t ‘get it’ he said, when I got angry with him. I went out by myself for our anniversary because that’s what I do these days. If I act like I’m single all the time, I might as well be single. Less hassle.” She shook her bottle sternly at me as if I’d started to argue. There were paint drips all over her black dress, which didn’t really take anything away from it. I was tempted to ask her how the splotches had happened but doubted I’d get anything reasonable back at this stage of the game.
Zayden came to the rescue with three wide-bottomed wineglasses he slung onto the glass-topped coffee table like they were hot, and Mom proceeded to fill each one to the top. Z winced as he seemed to realize one of those full glasses would be his, but I only shook my head at him to let him know he wouldn’t need to drink it.
“And how does this lead to you in my living room?” I asked, not wanting to be rude but needing answers.
“You didn’t drive here?” Z asked, touching her shoulder.
“No, I took an Uber. Besides, the car’s not in my name. Nothing’s in my name. My credit has always been shit. Student loans, you know. I went back for my doctorate in my forties.” She shook her head and wrinkled her nose. “Still teaching the same damned classes at NG State. Not worth my time.”
Z picked up his wine and sipped it. He made the fakest yum sound I’d ever heard, and even Mom laughed.
