“No, it doesn’t. You still let me do it. So much of the kind of pleasure we engage in is all up here.” He taps my temple. “Even if you wash it off, we both know it happened, what you gave to me, what I did to you. That’s what matters.”
I nod, craving this thing I never, ever thought I would want…then kneel. “Please, Sir. I’d like you to piss on me.”
“Christ, you are so fucking perfect.” Colton holds my face, bends over and kisses me—an owning kiss, one of possession and claiming, and God, do I want to belong to him.
He stands up straight again, taking his cock in hand and aiming it at me. It takes a moment for it to come out, but then the first splash hits me in the chest. It’s warm and potent. He moves his cock around so he’s spraying me everywhere, chest, stomach, shoulders, but avoiding my face. It’s wild how much I want this, how feeling his piss against my skin makes me feel claimed by him, the strength I feel in that. I…belong with him? To him? I’m not sure it matters. Maybe it does to some folks, but not to me. I just know I belong, and there is so much power in that, in giving him these things I wouldn’t give anyone else. In letting him control me, mark me, do these things to me that others would look down upon, but to us, they’re beautiful.
When he’s done, Sir pulls me to my feet, kisses me like he’s trying to tell me something with his tongue, each sweep saying words I can’t make out, like he’s speaking another language, but deep down, I know what they are.
“That was good?” he asks when he pulls back.
“That was incredible.”
“Good.” He turns on the shower, cleaning me first, then himself. Colton dries me off, puts cream on my ass, but leaves me naked. He tugs on a pair of underwear, grabs a blanket, and then we go downstairs.
We curl up on the couch and talk, my ass burning from him, his plug stuffed inside me, while I’m safe and welcome in his arms.
“I’d like to tell my mom about you.”
“What if she doesn’t like me?” What if she thinks I’m some kind of teacher who preys on his students?
“She’ll love you.” He kisses me again. God, kissing him is so fucking great. “I’ll make us lunch.”
I nod and close my eyes. The adrenaline from earlier makes me want to crash now. Eventually, Colton is waking me up to eat, which we do in the kitchen, him in his underwear and me naked. After lunch, I wonder if we’re going to have sex again today, but he leads me back to the living room, telling me to kneel beside the couch. I do, and he takes off his underwear, before sitting down, me between his legs. “Suck,” he says, pointing to his soft cock.
I’ve been making a point to ask him more about himself, not just because he mentioned it, but because now that I’ve given myself permission to want him, I want to know every single thing about him. “Will you tell me stories while I do it? Anything about you, about your life. I just…like to hear you speak.”
“Yeah.” He grins. “I will. I like talking to you too.”
And that’s how we spend the rest of the day, me warming his cock and sometimes his balls, while Sir runs his fingers through my hair, talking to me, telling me stories, reminding me how good I am for him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
James
“Ifeel likeI’mabout to play my first game,” I say to Sadie and Colton on the drive to Nash’s first basketball game of the season.
“Me too!” Sadie exclaims.
“Me three,” Colton pipes in.
This will be the first time we’re out in public together. He’s been to the house a few times, coming over for dinner and things like that. The kids still think we’re only friends. I feel like that’s the responsible thing to do for now. Sandra always had men in and out of the house and our lives, and while Colton is nothing like those men and our relationship is totally different, I want us to be more stable in this before we share with them. And maybe, just maybe, a part of me still worries I’ll lose him before that happens anyway. How long can he want to put up with my shit?
That’s not what today is about, though. Today is about Nash…and, okay, probably me stressing out that someone from school will notice Colton and me there together.
“He’ll be great,” Colton adds.
“Did you play when you were in high school?” Sadie asks him. She’s getting used to having Colton around, starting more conversations with him, which I enjoy seeing. It feelslike she’s coming out of her shell, so different from the quiet girl she was when I first went and saw them in Oregon. She’s even made friends, both at school and in her art program.
“I did, but I wasn’t nearly as good as Nash.”
“Did you play any sports, James?” she asks me next. “Oh, never mind. You probably couldn’t because of Mom.”
A weight of sadness drapes over me, and I figure it probably does over Sadie too. I welcome the touch when Colton reaches over and squeezes my thigh in support, but then worry that Sadie might see and discreetly try to brush it away. I glance at Colton, hoping we make eye contact so I can try and apologize that way, but Colton doesn’t look at me.
“No, I couldn’t. But what’s important is that we get to do things we want now—Nash with basketball, you with your art, and me with swimming. I wanted to be on the swim team when I was younger, and Colton has helped get me back into it.” It’s one of the things I still do weekly for myself that Sir is a stickler about.
“That’s so cool,” Sadie says. “I don’t know how to swim.”
