Zodiac moaned approvingly when I touched certain spots. Making his toes curl gave me power. I moved with more purpose, sucking and licking him. I took his cock deeper. As my confidence grew, so did his pleasure.
I was rarely prouder than when I made Zodiac come hard enough to grip his fucking sheets. As he exhaled like he was seeing stars, I drank down every drop of his pleasure.
“Did I do well?” I asked while lovingly licking the head of his cock.
Zodiac moved his phones to the side table and drew me into his arms. He kissed me with a tenderness I didn’t expect. When his lips left mine, I stared into his icy blue eyes and found them especially warm right now.
With him looking at me with such affection, I knew I loved Zodiac Bondi. My heart would never feel this way about any other man. He was my one shot at finding the kind of love my parents shared.
ZODIAC
I couldn’t deny to myself how much I had missed Elle in my bed. She crashed around eleven after eating chips and watching ESPN. I noticed how she couldn’t settle down until Sutter had been asleep for a while. Elle loved her boy so much that it made me feel a little guilty to keep them apart.
The next morning, Elle struggled to wake up and get moving. I didn’t help her fatigue by offering a morning fuck that left her wanting a nap. The only way to coax her sleepy ass out of bed was to mention Sutter was already at Exile and Nova’s former house. Elle finally got up, so we could help York move into his place.
I watched her tie two braids into her blonde hair while sliding on her sandals. She wore a goofy outfit with blue knee-length basketball shorts and a yellow oversized Arkansas zoo T-shirt.
“Are you planning to spend your entire pregnancy wearing rejects from your father’s closet?”
Her horny gaze feasted on me dressed in a pale gray button-up shirt and black jeans.
“This shirt belongs to Clint,” Elle said and slid on her rectangular eyeglasses. “Nova and I plan to shop for maternity clothes when we get back to Little Memphis. I’ll buy something sexy for you, lover.”
Her playful wink made my chest hurt. She was heading back to Little Memphis tomorrow. I couldn’t truly relax when she was so far away. Her presence also made me uneasy. Elle had stolen something vital from me.
Rather than get overly honest about how she made my heart soft, I kept my mouth shut and took her hand.
Before opening the front door, I checked the security cameras. I was always a little paranoid, but Elle’s presence made me distrust everything.
No one was around, so I opened the door. We were halfway down the stairs when I decided I needed more fucking cameras to prevent the old bitch from sneaking up on me.
Caren was one of the many foster moms that I’d suffered through before aging out of the system. She wasn’t particularly special, but we kept in touch. I liked knowing she was unhappy. She took pleasure in trying to rattle me. We were stuck in a negative feedback loop.
Deep into her seventies, Caren looked like shit. Life hadn’t been easy for her, and she made it worse every chance she could get.
Today, she wore white shorts and a bright pink tank top. A flowered hat covered her bushy gray hair. She flashed a triumphant smile as soon as she spotted me.
“Not now, Caren,” I muttered as the woman flipped me off.
“I heard you were shacked up with a dumb blonde,” Caren replied immediately. “How did this dumpy bitch win over your black heart?”
Before I could speak, Elle squeezed my hand. “Don’t worry. We have mentally ill homeless people in Little Memphis, too. Just give her a twenty for booze and send her on her way.”
“Are you sure this fugly loser is even a woman?” Caren asked me. “I guess you are a gay little bitch, after all.”
Caren was the classic bad foster parent, only in it for the paycheck. Her husband had died. Her kids were bums, always hitting her up for bail money. Her only value came from the size of her house. It looked good on paper to the foster system.
I ended up with her twice. The first time, I had been around Sutter’s age and stayed eight months until a cousin took me in. Caren hadn’t beaten or starved me. She was smart enough to realize pissing off traumatized kids might lead to her getting her ass kicked. Instead, she loved to dig at us with snide comments.
When I was eight, she liked to harp on my dead mom.Did I drive her to drugs? Was I such a bad kid that my mom had OD’d on purpose?Random shit like that.
Other boys got angry with her emotional abuse. Some cried over her hurtful words. I just smiled at her and shrugged. No matter what she said, I didn’t give her a negative response. As a kid, I knew to keep my head down and behave. That was how I would survive to adulthood.
The second time I moved in with Caren, I was a teenager. She constantly tried to rattle me. One of her favorite digs was that I was gay.
“Maybe I am,” I would respond each time she brought it up. “Time will tell.”
Today, as she waited near the SUV, Caren saw her chance to pull out the old nugget. Elle frowned at the woman.
