Page 44 of Hard Tail
Adam’s blunt cockhead pressed against my arsehole, and instinctively I pushed back, trying to draw him inside me. For a moment, I thought I was succeeding—then he gave a strangled cry and the pressure was gone in a waft of cold air on my arse. I twisted to look over my shoulder. “Adam? Are you—oh, bloody hell. Bad cat!Bad cat!”
Adam’s face was twisted in pain and consternation, and there was a cat hanging off his back. By its claws. Thin trickles of blood had already formed beneath them. I scrambled over, grabbed Wolverine around his hefty, furry middle and hoiked him away. Adam bellowed as the claws tore through his skin one last time.
“Adam? Adam! Are you okay? God, I can’t believe he did that! Bad cat!” I scolded my furry burden before dumping him on the floor none too gently. Adam was moaning softly, blood now dripping onto the carpet from his lacerated back. “God, let’s get these cleaned up. Are you going to need a tetanus jab?”
His eyes still screwed up, Adam shook his head and grunted something indecipherable. I took it to mean he’d had one recently. I ran into the kitchen, my now thoroughly limp cock dangling sadly between my legs, and ransacked the cupboards for the first aid kit I was sure I’d seen there a few days ago. “Where the bloody hell—got you!”
Several handfuls of antiseptic wipes later, it was quite clear the mood had irredeemably altered. Wolverine was curled up on the computer keyboard looking smug, and Adam kept casting him anxious glances. He’d also put his trousers back on. I could hardly blame him—I wouldn’t want my delicate bits dangling in front of a cat with maiming on his mind either.
To tell the truth, I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or sorry. Both, really. Although part of me was glad I hadn’t popped my gay cherry with a bloke I knew I didn’t love, another part of me was banging the walls and shouting in frustration,We were so bloody close!
Or had I popped my cherry? I wasn’t sure how it worked for gay sex. Okay, so there hadn’t been any penetration—not by Adam’s cock, anyway—but did that really work as a definition of actual sex? Because if so, did that mean lesbians were lifelong virgins? I didn’t actually know any lesbians, but I was fairly sure they’d be none too happy at the idea of their sexually active status being dependent on a bloke’s bits.
“I’m so sorry about that,” I told Adam for the umpteenth time as I pulled on my own trousers. “I don’t know what would make him attack you like that—unless maybe he thought you were some kind of rival encroaching on his territory?”
Adam looked incredulous. “What—y’r arse?”
Given that Wolverine had been sleeping in my bed, that was the sort of image of which nightmares are made. “The house, as if you didn’t know. Look, I’m really sorry.”
He shrugged. “’S all right. Guess I’ll be off, then.”
“Uh, yes. Sorry.”
He left, and as I closed the door behind him, Wolverine came to wind his way between my legs, acting as if butter wouldn’t melt in his stinky, befanged mouth. “I ought to kick you out after that shocking display ofcattus interruptus,” I muttered. Then I bent down to stroke him. “What was that all about, anyway? Determined to be the only ginger in the village?”
Wolverine just yawned and batted his head against my legs until I headed up to bed.
