Page 26 of This Thing With Charlie

“Daniel,” he said again. “My Daniel.”

“Charlie,” I whispered.

I suddenly knew what he was talking about. That moment of calm and magic when everything suddenly made sense.

“It’s this, isn’t it?” I said softly as he kissed my mouth.

“Yes,” he replied. “This.”

“It doesn’t matter, you know.”

“What doesn’t matter?”

“What we are,” I said, trying to get the muddled waters in my brain realigned so I could think.

“I’m who I am,” he said quietly. “… and I want this, to be our thing. I want to have a thing with you.”

“We already have a thing,” I said back. “We had a thing from the first time I met you.”

“We did?” He smiled. I reached out and stroked my fingertips down his cheek. Caressed his shoulder. Smoothed down his arm and then back up his stomach. Tickled his nipples and cupped his chin.

“Charlie, I don’t know what to say.”

“About what?”

He was cheeky. The smile on his face lighting up the room like a sun, despite the light from the fire and the dusty ceiling light that was still on bright.

“That was… your idea of gay sex? Is that all you could come up with?”

I was teasing, and he rolled on top of me, then crawled off and reached into his bag.

“Gonna plug you now for being so cheeky. Seriously, I gave you the fucking of the century, and you give me grief? I’m gonna teach you a lesson for that, so you’re gonna wear this plug now so I can fuck your pretty little hole again… in a little while. Just need to have a little breather, but it’s a shame to let that nicely lubed-up arse of yours go to waste.”

“What?” I tried to sit up as he pushed my chest back down.

“Knees to your chest, Daniel.”

He was holding up a… thing… which made me have to take a little breath. It wasn’t big but oddly shaped with a nice… practical handle to it. Then he smiled as he coated it in lube and held my arse up as he pushed it inside me.

“There, my darling.”

“OMG!” I blurted out, wondering what was wrong with me. “Did you just put a plug up my arse?”

“Yeah.” He giggled.

“Give me the lube,” I demanded, planting a little smack on his thigh.

“There we go. Told you, a little arse-play is good for you.”

“A little arse-play. This is going to be more than a little arse-play.”

I curled myself around him, this beautiful man in my arms. I spooned him and tickled him until he was pliant and soft as I kissed his neck and stroked his cock, then I coated my fingers in lube and stuck them inside of him. Two of them, firmly wedged against his prostate.

“I think I should fuck you back for that.”

“I think you should too,” he whined.

“Your prostate is fine by the way.”

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