Page 15 of A LIttle Christmas: Samm
Bryan glances at him in surprise.
“I’m just asking because we’re going to be talking about personal things in my life, and you seem like the most vanilla person to have ever existed.”
It’s an insult. Bryan sighs. “My life feels that way, too. Just to be clear, I don’t jerk off over Excel spreadsheets.”
Samuel laughs. “I don’t think anyone is that kinky.”
Should he tell Samuel his private history? There isn’t a lot to tell, but perhaps it would put Samuel at ease and build trust between them?
“I’ve slept with two women in my life. My wife and a one-night stand when the divorce was finalized. I wanted to see what it was like with someone else. If it would be… better.”
“I guess it wasn’t,” Samuel murmurs.
Bryan scoffs. “It wasn’t. It was fine in the moment. But when it was over, I didn’t like myself. I didn’t ever want to see her again. I thought about it for a long time afterward. That she was attractive, and how good it should have been. But it felt like we’d used each other. We could have been any two random bodies inserting tab A into slot B… I don’t know how people have casual sex.”
“I don’t like casual sex, either. I’ve done that. This is a big city and there are a lot of gay men who are happy to hookup, but no one wants a relationship. And if they do, they don’t want it the way I do.”
Bryan nods and starts the car.
“So, you’ve slept with two women, hated it, and now you’re celibate? And you’re going to give me advice? I think your head would explode if I talked about what I like in bed.”
Bryan frowns. How does he make Samuel feel comfortable confiding in him? “I spent a lot of money on lingerie for my wife. I liked to go and buy it. She didn’t seem to enjoy wearing it all that much, but I tried… I imagined her in it.”
Samuel doesn’t answer right away. “Okay. That’s pretty tame. I have lingerie,” Samuel says, unimpressed.
Bryan looks at him, and their eyes meet. What sort of lingerie does Samuel have? What does that mean? He thinks of lace panties, of sheer material and satin straps that frame a lush, pale bottom. He imagines Samuel bending over, offering himself, as if his ass is a present.
How would it fit in the front?
The car is suddenly too warm, and Bryan turns on the air conditioner. He shouldn’t ask what Samuel likes. That would be prurient interest and not helpful for the line Bryan is trying to walk.
And yet.
There is a vivid image in his mind of Samuel wearing lingerie, maybe silk or satin, something soft and breathable, because it would feel best on his well-used hole. That’s what Samuel fantasizes about. He’d mentioned it in the email. Things he wanted from their sexual encounter.
Another image, of Samuel putting a hand to his lingerie-clad bottom and pouting becauseDaddyused him so well and wants him again, crowds into his brain. He can’t quite imagine Samuel saying that word. He’d like to, though.
And he’d love to see Samuel in red. His pale skin would glow in red silk. And his bottom is a perfect bubble. Panties that hid more than they revealed would drive a man mad with the desire to take them off— rip them off.
This is not helpful. He’s aching at the idea. Hard like he’s still a teenager. Over a few words and a mental image. Ridiculous.
“What else?” Samuel asks.
He jolts, ashamed of his vivid imagination. “Uh. We had a pair of handcuffs?” Bryan offers. Not that they’d used them. He’d wanted to, but she hadn’t.
“How was that?”
“Not well received. I think I was about your age when I got them for us to try. We’d been married for a few years and things were already pretty cold in the bedroom,” Bryan sighs, and realizes he’s running a hand through his hair, elbow propped on the window frame.
A nervous gesture.
“Who would get handcuffed?” Samuel asks.
“I didn’t much care as long as one of us did.”
“Huh,” Samuel says. “Really? You didn’t care, not at all?”
“Should I have? Is there a right answer?”
