Page 75 of A Small Town Spring

“You did that.But that’s not it—I want you all the time.”

“Good,” is all he says, and then we’re kissing, and fumbling with our flies, and then he’s on his knees for me.The boy has been a fast study where blow jobs are concerned, and it’s not long before he’s drawing an orgasm out of me, longer and deeper and more unsettlingly good than a quick and dirty bathroom blow job should be.He swallows, and when he stands up and we kiss, I can taste myself on him.

“God, I love you.”

“Kingston, love you, need you,” he says, sounding wrecked.I’m the only one who’s gotten off here, but I eye the floor dubiously—I’m not ruining my suit pants if I can help it.

“Hang on.”I arrange a clean plush bath towel on the closed toilet lid and sit.My mouth is now the perfect height for Toby to feed me his cock, which he does enthusiastically.

“Oh fuck, yes, that’s good,” he says, pumping into me.“I need this.I need you.God, I need you Kingston, feels so good.”

The breathless dirty talk makes me wish I could get it up again, but there’s time for that later.I pull him close with my hands on his ass, and then Toby shouts and comes.I spit in the sink; we wash our hands, button our flies.Toby runs some water through his hair to make it more purposefully tousled than sex tousled, and I pat my beard with water.

“Do we look like we just had sex in a bathroom?”Toby asks as we emerge into the thankfully empty hall.

“We look like we’re in love,” I answer.He grins at me, and we hold hands as we return to the party, to our friends, radiating love, which is perfectly appropriate on this day of all days.

I know intellectually that this honeymoon period where we can’t keep our hands off each other will fade into something more routine.That he’ll get caught up in work and I’ll need to travel and there will be days, maybe weeks, where we don’t have sex.That’ll be okay, as long as I can hear his voice in my ear, see his face over breakfast, have him next to me while I fall asleep.Everything and anything will be okay as long as we’re together.

He’s my must-have.

And I’m his.

Epilogue

Kingston

One year later

“Hold still.”

“I am holding still.”

“Hold more still.”

“I’m hungry.And horny.”

“Five more minutes.”

“That’s a literal eternity.”

“I’ll make it worth your while.”

I take a slow, deep breath, hold it for five, and let it out again just as slowly.It’s a trick Toby taught me to deal with the boredom of live modeling.Sure, he could take photos, but I’m paranoid about creating digital evidence of me in my current state.So he’s got an easel set up in the living room with a large piece of drawing paper on a board.I’m naked, and hard, per his request.He had this idea ages ago, but between my work schedule, his recent London art show, celebrating our friends as they experienced anniversaries and other milestone life events, it’s been a busy year.

“Are you done?”I ask.My ass is numb.

“Five minutes isn’t up yet.”

“Seriously?”

“Almost.”

I bite my lip and keep my cool.You’d think it would be hard to keep my erection for thirty minutes straight, but Toby had a fix for that.You see, I might be cock-out on the green velvet chair, but Toby’s equally nude behind his easel.I can see everything, daydream about everything we love doing with each other.And since I’ve been in the city for the past three days, I have plenty of pent-up sexual frustration to work out on my boyfriend the second he puts the pencil down and tells me I can move.

“What are we doing for dinner?”I ask.

“Jack and Pete invited us over,” he says absently, attention on his work in progress.“I told them we’d bring the wine.”

---