Page 67 of Grief & Glitter

“More, another one,” I whispered, moving back now to push those digits deeper. He gave me two. I rode them for a moment, my balls tight, and then eased off to wiggle my ass around in a tight circle. His cock was hard as a rod as I lifted up to center myself over him. We somehow, through sheer determination despite having hands that felt like balloons, got a condom over his fat dick.

“Put the extra lube on your cock, hurry. I’m going to fucking die right here on the spot if you’re not inside me within a minute,” I panted as he not only slathered his condom covered prick, but he lubed a good half of the bedding. Who cares. Not me. We’d worry over slippery sheets later. With a slap at his hand, I sat down on his cock, the stretch and burn startling me as it had been a little while since I’d been with anyone. “Oh God, oh, give me…” I slapped my hands to his chest to hold me up as I caught my breath and my body adjusted. “Shit, you have a big dick.”

He pressed his lips together, clearly straining to remain still as I took a moment. “We can stop,” he ground out, eyes latching onto me. I shook my head, hair sticking to my cheeks as I drew in a long breath before lowering myself more. Inch by hard inch I took him, whining at times as his girth made me wince. He rubbed my arms, my shoulders, and my chest while whispering sweet nothings. Then, when he was fully seated, I locked my elbows, fingers biting into his pecs, and began to rock back and forth. Then up. Then down. Then around.

“Ryan, holy fucking hell!” Gids bellowed when the rocking became bouncing. I couldn’t speak. I didn’t know what I would say if I could’ve made words, but since his cock was tickling my tonsils while simultaneously pegging my prostate, speech was impossible.

My orgasm was like a bolt out of the blue. It hit hard, cock spurting over Gids’ belly and chest—no hands at all required from him—as I bucked like a madman. My ass clenched as I came and he blew apart, his grip on my shoulders close to painful as his ass lifted from the bed. Strong thighs jerking us upward as he tugged me down. Not that there was a millimeter more depth he was going to get, but he drove home on instinct just the same. His growl of completion was guttural, long, and breathy. Mine was a weak little yelp and a purr as I collapsed onto him, my nose coming to rest on his shoulder, bent a little sideways, but who cared. My cock kept oozing as we lay there gasping for breath like guppies who’d leaped from their bowl.

“I can’t feel my toes,” Gideon huffed. “Am I dead? Did I stroke out?”

“If you’re dead, then… I am too,” I croaked, gently lifting my nose from his shoulder to kiss the corner of his mouth a time or two before my neck grew too weary to hold up my skull.

“Okay, that’s fine. As long as we died together.”

“Mm, yeah, I want to grow old with you.”

“I’d like that.” He ran a finger down my spine. I flailed about, his cock slipping from me as I spasmed with giggles to my back. He moved with me, pinning me gently to the bed, his blue eyes locking with mine. “We’ve practically lived together for two weeks without killing each other. Will you think about giving things a try and staying here with me, I mean, it’s closer to school if that helps?”

As if that was the main reason I’d move in with him, the big galoot. “Will you promise to rub my aching feet when I come home from a long day of coloring roots and perfecting my eyebrow threading technique?”

“Always. Every night.”

“I love you.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, it’s a yes.”

He kissed my sweaty brow.

“Amazing. Ryan, I have one other really important question for you.”

“Okay, baby.” I sighed sleepily, rubbing a hand over his abs. “I’m always here for any important queries you might have. That’s what couples do. They give each other answers to life’s most pressing questions.”

“What the hell is eyebrow threading?”

Epilogue

Ryan

Is it possible to love a smock nearly as much as you love your boyfriend?

Wiggling into my new soft pink school top, I felt as Ryan as I ever had. Matching it with some dark rose thermal leggings and a long-sleeved black turtleneck was perfection. My face was made up, my hair was up, and I had tiny clip-on earrings on my lobes. Such a sharp and wonderful contrast from what I had to wear to the arena. Maybe someday in a fantasy world where people accepted each other for how they presented their true selves, I could wear the clothes that felt best when I was feeling femme, which was quite a lot lately. Being able to express myself everywhere aside from the rink was incredibly freeing.

Looking at myself in the new full-length mirror Gids had installed on the back of his bedroom door just for me—imagine not having a mirror to inspect your look before leaving the house! What would Coco Chanel have thought of such a thing?!—I added a small flag pin of pink, white, purple, black, and blue to the crisply ironed lapel. There. I was ready to face whatever this first day of cosmetology school would throw at me.

Gideon met me in the kitchen with a kiss and a thermos of hot coffee. “You’re going to be the very best cosmetologist in Rochester,” he purred beside my ear then gave the tiny pearl earring a playful tug. I squeaked as I melted into his arms for just a moment longer and stepped out of them before one kiss turned into a hot fuck on the kitchen counter just as it’d happened two days ago. Who knew the man was so turned on by watching someone make a chef salad? “I wish I could come watch you be amazing, but I have that corny commercial to shoot today.”

“Right, Toasty Ted’s Toaster Emporium.” I chuckled as I grabbed the toasted bagel thick with cream cheese from a plate beside our toaster. Purchased from Toasty Ted’s Toaster Emporium on the corner of Clifford and Portland. Gids gave me a look that I kissed away. He dropped another bagel into the new toaster. “You’ll be a great toaster salesman. Look how often you use our new toaster!”

“If he asks me to put on a toaster costume, I might not be responsible for what fate befalls Toasty Ted.”

“You’d be the sexiest toaster in town.” I rose to my toes to steal a kiss. “I have to go. Traffic will be terrible as always, and I don’t want to be late. Our first class is Hair Coloring One: Color Theory and Application. I can’t be late.”

“No, we don’t want that. Go on. I love you. I’ll be hawking toasters all day but will meet you for lunch at our place.”

It was rare for the Copperheads staff to get a whole day off, but it did happen. Juggling work schedules with school had been trickier than I’d thought it would be, but the Copperheads were very much behind higher education, so they worked with me as best they could. Thankfully, there were aspects of the courses that I could do online when we were traveling, but many, like today’s coloring introduction, were lab classes that had to be attended. You couldn’t learn to apply hair color to a head via the internet. Not yet anyway.