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After dinner, August took me to the only floor in the house he hadn’t shown me earlier, the top one. “This is all mine,” he said as we reached the top of the stairs.

“The entire floor?”

“The entire floor,” he echoed.

It was essentially an attic, August having partitioned the large open space into various areas piled high with stuff. The four-poster bed at its center derailed my intention to explore, as something clicked into place. “Was your grandma talking about sex?”

August laughed. “She was.”

“I didn’t think grandmothers were supposed to talk about that sort of stuff.”

August took a seat on the end of the bed, our difference in levels meaning he had to tip his head back to maintain eye contact. “Yeah, well, Caroline is not your typical grandmother.”

“I guess when the world went to shit when you were a teenager and you’re still here, you can talk about whatever you want.”

August hooked a hand around the back of my thighs and pulled me forward until my crotch met his face. He didn’t stop there, nuzzling my cock through the fabric. “How about we save talking about my grandma until later?”

“Yeah.” My voice sounded breathless. Mainly because I was, my cock having gone from limp to hard in the space of only a few seconds. “Agreed. What do you want to talk about instead?”

August’s chuckle sent an interesting vibration along the length of my cock, even through the fabric that separated us. “We haven’t fucked yet.”

“We haven’t,” I agreed, my brain struggling to hang onto enough blood to keep talking.

August let go and leaned back on his hands, his eyes lidded. “We should fuck.”

I nodded, words taking longer to muster. “I have no objection.”

“To you fucking me? Or to me fucking you?”

“Either. Both.”

“Hmm…” August leaned further back, resting on his elbows. “So the big, butch soldier is happy to take it up the arse, is he? I bet he’s tight. How does he like it? Slow and deep? Fast and hard?”

I pushed him back on the bed and straddled his chest, breathing hard. “With less talk.”

“No can do,” August said, a challenge glinting in his eyes. “Talk is my thing. I talk, and people listen. And then they hand over all their worldly goods to me.”

The reminder of how easy August found it to con people should have doused my ardor. It didn’t; I was too horny. Besides, I understood his motivations now. Everything he did, he did for this place. For his grandmother. And how could anyone find that an unattractive quality? And then, of course, there was the stunning face and body.

I unbuttoned my recently acquired and non-holey jeans, pulling the zipper down and then tugging them to mid-thigh so August could feast his eyes on my cock. “I know how to stop you from talking.”

“Do you? Prove it.”

There was a split second as I readjusted my position to straddle August’s face and pressed my cock to his lips so he could feel the weight of it, where I considered his grandma being in the house. Two floors down. Too old to climb the stairs. Poor hearing. Basically, already gave you her seal of approval. It was reason enough to have me pushing between his lips. I wasn’t holding August down. If he didn’t want this, he could push me off. Hell, he could reach for the knife we both knew was in his sock and hold it to my throat. Again. He did neither, simply accepting the cock being fed to him.

“Let’s see you talk now,” I said.

Even with his mouth full, August oozed cockiness. It was in his eyes and in the set of his shoulders. It only made me hornier. I slid deeper, August relaxing his throat and managing not to gag as I nudged his tonsils. I gave him long, slow thrusts, August’s hands wrapping around my arse to guide me. When I might have slowed, he urged me to a faster rhythm. Then deeper, until he gagged, the sensation far from unpleasant.

Three times I told myself to stop, and three times I couldn’t get my body to obey and carried on fucking his mouth. In the end, I only stopped when it was that or come. I sat back on my haunches, finger and thumb wrapped around the base of my cock to stem any dribbles of cum that might escape prematurely. August delighted in the evidence of my lack of self-control, propping himself up on his elbows and smiling smugly. “Oh dear! Is someone close to coming?”

“Someone is going to get fucked,” I said. “And just so we’re clear, that someone is you.”

His answer was in how quickly he shed his clothes, forcing me to hurry to catch up. I took my time looking him over when we were both naked, reminding myself of all his positive attributes. He was muscular without being overly so. Virtually hairless apart from a treasure trail and the coarser hair surrounding his erect cock. Lean thighs. Knees a lot less knobbly than mine. Nice feet. He returned the favor, the glint in his eye telling me he wasn’t disappointed with what he saw.

“Roll over,” I said. “I want to see your arse.”

He did, positioning himself so I had an unobstructed view while he looked back over his shoulder and drank in my expression. “Marks out of ten,” he demanded.