Page 39 of Free Heart
“Oh, hell no,” I say, fitting my long legs inside. “I will straight upmurderhim if he suggests that accepting the money would interfere with the purity of his healing or some bullshit.”
That brings a hearty laugh from Rye. “Oh, yeah. For real. And I’ll help you bury the body.”
“Deal.”
He taps the top of the car and then shuts the door for me, darting over in the misty rain to the car he’s borrowed from Lowell. There are a lot of things I’ve learned in the last couple of weeks, but one of the best is that it’s good to have a friend like Rye.
*
Dan
It’s been almosttwo weeks since my dick has even had a twinge of morning wood, much less any kind of real arousal. So, it comes as a surprise to me that I start to chub up as soon as Sejin walks through the door with his hair in a wet, messy bun, arms full of groceries, and his cheeks flushed from the cold.
I get even harder as he toes off his shoes, and his ass pushes out a little with the effort.
Oh, hello there, I think at my dick.Nice to see you’re still willing to join the party.
If my right-hand man is working again, then my days might be a little less boring. Porn is plentiful and orgasm is always an entertaining endeavor.
“Hey, Doc,” I call from where I’m stretched lengthwise on the couch.
Sejin puts ice cream in the freezer, and some fruit in the fridge. “Hey, yourself,” he answers.
He sounds distracted and tired, which is his new normal, and since that’s my fault, I feel like I owe it to him to cheer him up. “Wanna suck my dick?”
Sejin whirls around, fridge door still open, and gives me an appraising look. “Really? Now?”
“Anytime is good for me,” I say. It’s hard to keep my head turned at this angle to see his face. “Whenever you’d like. And, in exchange, I’ll finger your ass, and then maybe, if you’re really careful, you can ride me.”
Sejin blinks rapidly, pushes his loose locks of hair behind his ears, and checks out all the grocery bags. He puts a few more things in the refrigerator and freezer. Then he comes around to stand in front of the couch.
“Show me,” he demands as he shucks the coat he hasn’t had time to remove. He tosses it on the floor, followed by his long-sleeve Papa Bear shirt and cozy undershirt. He starts unbuttoning his jeans. “I want to see.”
I shove my track pants down—or theyweretrack pants until Sejin cut the left leg for my cast. Now I guess it’s a trackpant. I wrap my fist around the base of my cock. It’s hard for real now, and I grin down at it. “It’s nice, huh? Strokes you just right inside.”
“Yeah,” Sejin says a little breathlessly. He tugs out his loose bun so his hair spills over his shoulders and down to cover his brown nipples. He works his jeans off and leaves them pooled at his feet. The cats scatter like they know what’s coming. And they should. We did this often enough before my injury.
“Lube,” he says under his breath, hooking his fingers in his tented underwear, and pushing them down too. “I’ll get it.”
He kicks off the briefs, leaving the room with long strides that make his cock wag and send his hair streaming behind him.
I love that we aren’t using condoms anymore. Before the injury, I got a rush every time I even thought about fucking him raw or vice versa. Now that fizzy, giddy excitement is back. Though, I think with my leg, I’ll be the only one leaving my jizz inside anyone for at least a few weeks—which is fine by me because I think that’s more my kink than his. Still, I’ll miss getting fucked. It’s a good sensation that I try not to go too long without.
Fucking injury.
Fuckingfall.
I flash to a moment on the wall. I think it’s from that day. I’m flowing up, breathless, zoned in on the holds, and then boom. I’m back on the sofa with my cock hard as a rock. Sejin’s standing in front of me with lube in one hand and his own dick in his other. He’s breathing hard. He’s so fucking beautiful. It’sbeen too many weeks since I was able to show him how much I want him.
“Yes,” I encourage, as he crawls toward me on the sofa, shoving all the gathered accoutrements of my life as an invalid onto the floor without care. Tissues, the remote, some journals, a book, my phone, a half-eaten bag of chips—all on the floor. Then he’s carefully moving until he’s over me, his long hair dragging over my skin, giving me goosebumps, and his lips skimming over my chest, and neck, and up to my mouth before he sits back on his heels, a worried expression on his face.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, reaching for him, careful not to jostle my leg.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” I urge, pulling him toward me. “Straddle me. Carefully.”
He does and our dicks rub against each other. I take them both in my hand, squeezing lightly. He tosses his head back, and I push his hair over his shoulders, going for his nipples with my fingers.
