Fletcher could feel his orgasm approach, and this time he let himself find release. He came all over himself, his cum spread all over his stomach and the duvet beneath him. Taylor came shortly after, filling Fletcher up with his hot cum. It was so fucking intense and freeing that it literally tickled Fletcher’s brain. He worried for a split second that he was actually having a brain aneurysm. He clenched and milked everything out of Taylor until he emptied his balls completely inside of him.
“Fuck,” Taylor grunted as he spilled is last drop inside of Fletcher. He carefully pulled out and collapsed on the bed next to Fletcher. He threw his arm over his forehead as he tried to catch his breath.
“Give me a second to breathe and I’ll help clean you up, baby.”
“Holy fuck,” Fletcher breathed out. Reality suddenly hit him like a truck. He was paralyzed. He couldn’t move. It was too intense for him to handle. “What the fuck just happened?”
Did that even happen? Was it all in his imagination?
He was still on the bed so he couldn’t see whatever face Taylor was making. “I’m a father,” Taylor said, letting out a breathy chuckle. Fletcher’s cheeks heated. Of course he would make a joke out of it.
“Shut the fuck up, Taylor,” Fletcher bit out, embarrassment slowly creeping back into him. “Just…forget it happened.”
Taylor rolled over on top of Fletcher and kissed the back of his shoulder. “There’s no going back from this, Armstrong.” He reached down and collected the cum that had slowly dripped out of Fletcher’s hole and swiped two fingers to collect it before bringing them to Fletcher’s mouth. Fletcher swatted his hand away and pushed Taylor off of him.
“You’re a fucking asshole,” he snapped at Taylor. He rolled over and straddled Taylor’s waist, pinning him to the bed.
Taylor brought the two fingers to his own mouth and licked them before swallowing his own cum, watching Fletcher with a cocky look in his eye. Like he thought teasing Fletcher right now was funny.
“That’s disgusting,” Fletcher told him disdainfully, sounding like a child gloating.
“You’re the one with cum dripping from your ass, Armstrong,” Taylor teased him.
Fletcher huffed, shaking his head. “Roll over so I can fuck you,” he commanded Taylor, slapping him on his cheek. He felt his dick start to grow hard again just from the thought of it.
Taylor just looked at him with a look of defiance on his face. “Make me,” he challenged.
“Roll over,” Fletcher told him again.
“I’m a bad boy, Armstrong. You’re gonna have to make me.”
Frustrated, Fletcher rolled his eyes as he got up off Taylor and walked into the bathroom to turn the shower on. Taylor walked in shortly after him and watched him with his arms folded across his chest.
“What’s wrong? Why are you being like this?” he asked kind of seriously.
Fletcher clicked his tongue and ignored him. He put his arm under the shower head and waited until the water heated up before pulling the shower curtain back and stepping inside.
“Armstrong,” Taylor pressed. Fletcher ignored him, yanking the curtain closed as he grabbed his bottle of men’s three-in-one and poured some out into his hand.
Taylor yanked the curtain and stepped into the shower behind Fletcher. “Baby, c’mon,” Taylor patronized. “Don’t be like this.”
Fletcher wanted to tell him that he could do whatever the hell he wanted. He was so fucking embarrassed about calling Taylor his fucking “daddy” and here Taylor was making a joke out of it. He fucking encouraged it.
Taylor placed his hand on Fletcher’s shoulder as Fletcher lathered the soap in his hands, realizing there was no fucking wash rag in here. Fuck, fucking, fuck. Fletcher in a fucking mood.
“I’m trying to shower,” he told Taylor, not bothering to turn back to look at him. “This shower’s too small for the both of us.”
“You’re upset,” Taylor said, still not leaving. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, sounding overly concerned. “Fletch—”
“I’m fine. Just go. I’ll be quick,” he told Taylor coldly, trying to conceal his frustration. He was being irrational about this. He shouldn’t be taking this out on Taylor when the real issue was him. His messed-up freak mind.
He tried not to imagine the hurt look on Taylor’s face as Taylor removed his hand from Fletcher’s shoulder and pulled the shower curtain back to get out. Fletcher felt powerless. He wanted to even the score.
“Wait,” Fletcher said abruptly. He turned around and faced Taylor. “Turn around and put your hands against the wall,” he told him assertively.
Taylor nodded with concern in his eyes and quietly did what he was asked. Fletcher nudged his legs apart with his foot as far as they could go in this shower. Fletcher used the soap in his hand and used it to slick Taylor open. He inserted two fingers inside of Taylor, who relaxed enough for Fletcher to slide them in with little to no resistance. “Are you fucking me with men’s three-in-one?” Taylor asked,sounding slightly afraid.
“Sure am,” Fletcher said sharply. He reached down to pump himself before angling himself to slide into Taylor. He put his leg up against the side of the tub and pulled Taylor’s hips towards him to get the angle just right. “You ready?” he asked Taylor a little softer.
