Page 75 of Napkins and Other Distractions
“Good,” he says with a wink.
And because everything with Vincent is like a new adventure, I shrug and say, “Why not?”
Vincent grabs a small bottle of lube from the drawer and sits up. He squirts a good amount onto his fingers and says, “Open, please.”
I smirk and do as I’m told, moving my legs apart enough to give him access.
When the chilly liquid lands on my hole, I shiver and say, “Um, hello, cold!”
“Sorry, I should’ve warmed it up. It’s so … sticky.”
Vincent’s face contorts in discomfort, indicating his dissatisfaction with the texture, yet he doesn’t stop. Even the simple pressure of applying the lube creates a new sensation.
“There you go,” he coos. There’s more lube. More fingers. “Yes. You’ve got a hairy hole.” Vincent licks his lips and my cock throbs with each swipe. If this is any indication of what’s coming, I’m not sure I’ll last long. He adds a few more squirts and then moves the plug into place.
“Ready, Mr. Lester?”
I nod and close my eyes. The tip goes in rather quickly, but where the toy becomes wider, there seems to be a disconnect. It’s not very big, but I’ve also never had anything in my ass before.
“Take a deep breath. Try to relax,” he says. “Let’s take two together.”
My eyes locked on his, I follow his lead, inhaling and exhaling slowly, and on the second exhale, Vincent slowly pushes the toy inside. At a certain point, my muscles relax enough to accept it, wrapping around the plug and sending frissons of pleasure through my body. My cock, still hard, becomes even more rigid. Somehow, at fifty-two, Vincent unlocks something inside me I didn’t know existed. But there it is. A new delight. Waving at me from inside. The pressure of the plug creates such an intense buzz that it’s possible I’ll come at Vincent’s first touch.
“Good?” he asks.
I sigh, my stomach deflating, and nod. “I, I, um, yes, good. Fantastic.”
Vincent’s lips twist up, and he moves down to my dick. Swiping his own cum from my belly and chest, he takes it in his hand and slowly begins stroking. The tension from the toy and his hands, slick and slippery, is almost too much to handle. This might top him riding my face. He moves a foot toward my hand, and I grab it and massage his toes. My eyes roll back in sheer delight at the intensity of bliss. Thinking about eating his ass, my tongue buried inside him, while all this happens, starts my orgasm. It’s happening quicker than usual, and I blurt out, “Vincent, I’m close. I’m gonna come. Very soon.”
My cock fills his hands. He uses long strokes, the back of his head in full view. My heart bursts with desire, watching him from this angle. I can’t hold back any longer, and when the first drops of cum break free, Vincent takes my dick into his mouth, sucking and slurping, sending me right over the edge of glory.
“Oh fuck, Vincent. Fuck.”
More words than I thought possible, but I got them out. My dick gushes, the relief of each spurt threatening to rip me in half. Pressure from the toy causes more volume than I’ve shot in some time, and Vincent, his mouth wrapped around my rigid cock, drinks it all in.
“Look at you, taking my cum like a good boy.”
“Mmmh.”
My chest pounds as Vincent continues to suck, finally licking the head clean. When I finish, he takes my dick out of his mouth, turns around, holds his index finger up, and hops off the bed. I lie there, motionless from the most intense orgasm I’ve ever experienced. Mind-blowing. World changing. Life altering. Louis’s brisket has nothing on this. What happens now?
I lie there, unable to move. The shower turns on, followed by music. Guitar strumming. Bright and airy. Joined by a bass guitar, and finally, the drums kick in. Vincent has it turned up so loud that surely his neighbors can hear it. The voices, male and female, in unison, join in, and when the hand claps finally start, I can’t help but smile. They’re singing about love. “I Don’t Want to Know”—his reward for the euphoric experience we shared.
I probably should remove the toy from my ass before he returns. Maybe clean up. But I’m not sure where to put it. What to do with it? Where to go? Or if I’m able to move yet. Am I in a sex coma? I simply lie still, basking in the ecstasy and aftershocks of what just occurred.
Vincent returns wearing a T-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms. His sweet face stares, those eyelashes flutter, and I want to grab and cuddle with him for eternity. But that would require moving.
“Here,” he says, handing me a damp washcloth. “You might want to hop in the shower.” I push myself up, take the washcloth, and head for the bathroom. Before I leave the bedroom, Vincent takes my hand, pulls me close, and says, “Don’t take too long.” He gives me a soft kiss on the cheek and whispers, “I’m starving.”
CHAPTER 25
Vincent
“So, does this mean we’re dating?”
Kent’s question catches me off guard as I unpack our takeout on the kitchen island. I open the napkin drawer and procure three … one for him and two for me.
“Excuse me?”
