Page 42 of Free Heart
But I don’t thinkhefeels bad at all.
He’s out of his mind as his body shakes and clenches through a brutal orgasm. Finally, as he comes down from it, moaning and unhinged, I unclench my fist inside him, carefully and slowly. He whimpers and reaches down to touch my wrist again, steadying me as I even more carefully tug free of him. He cries out slightly as I slide the thickest part of my hand out, but his asshole gives me up readily after that, leaving him gaping and quivering.
“Fuck,” he says after a very long silence during which I massage his calves with my clean hand and wait for him to regain his senses. “Fuckingfuck.”
“Yeah.”
I’m hard again, but there’s not much to do about that right now, so I wait.
Once he recovers enough, he reaches down to feel his own hole, still open and beautiful. I wish I could lean down and kiss that rosiness, but I know that would make my leg hurt like hell. I settle for touching the edges with my fingers, and he joins me in the exploration of his gape.
“Holy fuck,” he mutters. “Shit.”
“Did you like it?” I ask, almost laughing, because I know he did.
“My ass feels like it’s been to space and back. My head does too.”
“In a good way?”
“Best way.”
Gradually, his hole clenches closed, and he sits up, his dark eyes still shiny with satisfaction. He sees my hard-on, and before I can stop him, he’s on his knees, bending over me, and sucking me down. It only takes a few pulls of his mouth before I’m coming again in short, hard bursts. After the erotic spectacle I’ve just witnessed, I’m more than ready.
“So…” I say, panting and leaning back against the sofa cushions post-orgasm. “I’m sorry to blow your mind and then leave you with clean-up duty, but…” I wave toward the mess on the floor and then my leg.
Sejin pushes his hair out of his face, licking the last of my cum from his lips. He takes in the situation—cum on both of us and the floor, lube on my hand up to my wrist, and both of us a sweaty mess. He laughs a little but seems like he’d rather pass out on the sofa than deal with all this. I won’t blame him if he does. In fact, I’m about to encourage it, when he stands up on wobbly legs and says, “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
Both of us laugh again as he heads back to the bathroom for clean-up supplies.
My balls buzz, pleasantly empty for now, and a sense of optimism settles over me. If nothing else, I can still make Sejincome like he’s built for nothing else in life.Everythinghas to start improving now. We’re through the worst of it.
Soon, I’ll get a moonboot and start rehabilitation.
I just need to keep myself from going completely out of my mind until then.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Sejin
On my drivein to work with the kids at Tater Tots, my fingers tap the steering wheel. My still-wet hair is plastered against the side of my head and the ends of the heavy locks are dripping, soaking the front of my shirt.
Despite setting my alarm for four in the morning, I’d still been late leaving the house and hadn’t had time to even begin to dry the roots after my fast shower.
It’s just so hard to get out on time when I need to get everything set up for Dan to be safe for the hour and a half before Lowell or Rye will arrive to help him to the bathroom and handle his needs for the day.
And I can’t forget to make sure the cats are fed, not only for their sakes, but Dan’s as well. The last thing he needs is them pestering him for food he has no way of getting for them. At least they haven’t tried to swipe at him or bite him ever since he got hurt. They seem to recognize that he’s not fair game now.
Despite the cool morning, I’m sweating because I have the heater in the car turned on full blast, trying to dry my hair as much as possible. The skin of my face feels like it’s turning into a raisin, but my hair is so thick, it holds water like a sponge. It keeps on dripping. I know, despite the efforts of my car’s heater, it’ll be damp most of the day.
Tired, I cast about uselessly for an elegant solution to all the troubles plaguing us. I know it’s silly, but it feels like the answer to everything is just one more thought away. But whatever that answer is, it’s slippery and eludes me, sliding off as soon as Iapproach. It’s a delusion, I know. There’s no quick fix to any of this, no single idea that will solve it all.
I think back to the love we’d made on the sofa—his hand breaching me, the intensity of the experience and our feelings—and the mistaken hope it’d kindled in me that we’d both turned the corner emotionally on this journey. How wrong I’d been.
The last few days have shown me a side of myself that’s quite different from any I’ve ever seen before. Despite how amazing it’d been to share that with Dan, I can’t bring myself to want to do anything like it. I’ll suck him off or jerk myself off while we kiss, but I can’t open up to him like that again. Not even for his dick. For so many reasons. The biggest one being that I’m tired. Not just tired, butexhausted.
The energy of letting go like that, of accepting him inside, of going to the end of pleasure and then beyond… I don’t have it in me right now. I’ve left it all out in the world dealing with everything else: Papa Bear, the kids at Tater Tots, the influx of bills that, as of yesterday, have finally arrived.
I know Dan’s disappointed that I’m not open to anal again now that he’s up to it. Not because he doesn’t understand, but because it’s something he feels accomplished about. Making me come until I lose my mind and shoot everywhere is the only thing he feels like he can do in his current condition that gives me pleasure or joy. Everything else about our relationship, as he sees it, is only a burden for me.
