Page 82 of Strange Lad

The tip of his cock is leaking copiously, a large puddle of precum forming between his legs. “I think this is all you can take, kitten. It’s just too tight.”

“Ohmygod.”

“Do you like being tight for me?”

“Yes,” he whines.

“Too tight for cock?”

“YES!”

He locks up, moaning and writhing as he comes from just my fingers. White ropes coat his balls, landing on my knuckles while I milk his prostate. A string of curses leaves his lips, aftershocks racking his body. When his orgasm finally subsides, he sags into the bed, breathing hard and looking wrecked. It’s beautiful and makes my chest swell with pride. I’m uncomfortably hard, but I ignore my needs. Slowly easing my fingers out of him, I check his hole. It’s swollen and a little red, but there’s no damage.

I sigh in relief. I fingered him pretty hard towards the end. “Does it hurt, baby?” I whisper, still examining.

He chokes. “Baby?”

Blushing, I ignore it. “Does it hurt, Jorge?”

Pushing up on his elbow, he twists, giving me a profile shot of his soft cock and lean torso. “No.” He clenches his ass, then grimaces. “Okay, a little sore. But nothing bad.”

With my clean hand, I rub his leg, humming. “I got a little…carried away,” I admit.

“With my asshole or calling me baby? Be real specific here because my heart feels like it’s going to grow ten sizes, beautiful.”

I meet his eyes. They’re soft, open, and vulnerable. Like he’s been waiting for me to fully acknowledge something. “I’ve never done this before. This intimacy. The pet names. But because it’s you, I feel safe to do it—towant it.And I want this with you. I…want you to be my baby and my kitten. I wantyou, Jorge. If you’ll have me.”

Tears well in his eyes as his lips part. “You just gave me the best orgasms of my life, and now this? How did I get so lucky?” he whimpers, pushing onto his knees and giving me a hesitant look.

“Come here,” I whisper, and he throws himself at me.

Cradling my head and holding me close, Jorge sniffles loudly in my ear. “I want you too, Oli.”

I band my arms around his naked torso and tremble.

He hugged me for a long time before I gently eased him off my body so I could get a warm rag to clean him with. I took my time, making sure to wash all the lube from his hole and the dried cum off his cock and balls. He kept his hands to himself the entire time, content to watch me. Afterward, I stripped the bed. Idon’t have a washer or dryer in my studio, but I bought an extra set of bedding at Walmart a while ago.

It’s kind of lame, but Jorge doesn’t seem to mind.

We’re lying in my bed, playing with each others’ fingers. I let him borrow a pair of my sweats since his briefs were sticky and wet. There’s no doubt a mess in my own, but I haven’t bothered to change. For the first time, I don’t feel dirty. It didn’t matter who I was with; anything sexual always resulted in my skin crawling and nausea churning in my belly. Nothing ever felt right or good, even if I was able to orgasm.

Jorge makes me feel…clean. Brand spankin’ new. Like I don’t carry years of emotional scars. I know they are there. I can feel them. And somewhere inside, I know that those scars will hurt later. That doesn’t take away from this moment, though. It’s special. And I’m proud of the progress I’m making. I think Dr. Langley would be, too. I’ll have to tell him during our next session. Obviously, negating the details.

“What are you thinking about?” Jorge asks softly.

“You,” I admit. “This.”

“Are you alright? How are you feeling?”

I nod, tucking my arm under my head and sliding my hand over his cheek. “Better than I’ve been in a long time.”

His eyes search mine. “No regrets, then?”

“Only that I’m not braver.”

“Fuck that,” he growls. “You are so brave, Oli. The bravest. Not everyone could’ve done what you did after what you’ve been through.”

I drop my hand from his face, balling it into a fist between us. If I were truly brave, I would’ve done more. I’d have kissed him. Let him face me. I would tell him the truth if I was as brave as he claims. He’s assuming things, connecting invisible dots, and making deductions based on observation, not fact. The truth might make it worse—it might destroy everything.

---