Page 89 of Napkins and Other Distractions
“No.Flesh. Fleshlight. You, you, well … fuck it.”
Kent’s mouth opens and he nods before moving closer to inspect it. He slowly circles the small hole on the end with the tip of his index finger, pushing and prodding at the material. His finger glides inside and he immediately pulls it out.
“It’s so, so, realistic.”
I laugh and hand it over for him to inspect.
“It’s supposed to be. It’s made of something called ReelFeel SuperSkin. Apparently, it feels exactly like fucking someone.”
“Apparently? You’ve never used it?”
I shrug. “Not really my cup of tea. But I thought we could use it,” I say. “Together. I figured you might like the next best thing.” I nuzzle my temple into his neck.
“Vincent,” he says, moving back and taking my chin in his free hand, “you are the best thing. I want you.”
“You don’t care?”
“About fucking you?” Kent asks, placing the gadget on the bed. He removes his sweatshirt, takes my face in his strong hands, and holds my gaze.
“Vincent, don’t you get it? You’re all I want.”
My legs turn to jelly, and I close my eyes. The fingers on my right hand find my temple. Shaky and tentative, I inhale deeply. And again.
“You want me?” I peek with one eye, and Kent’s sexy smile stares back at me.
“Of course, you silly goose. You’re fucking amazing.” He takes my hand, and kisses each knuckle. “I want to be with you. Whatever that means. Everything we’ve done so far has blown my mind. It’s not only enough … it’s perfection. You’re perfection.”
“Oh.”
“C’mere,” he says, pulling me closer and holding me tight. “Vincent Manda, you are all I want. You. Just as you are. And I will tell you that every single day if you need to hear it.”
With Kent’s woolly body plastered against mine, each hair on his stocky chest brushes against my skin. He wants me. Even with my napkins. Wipes. Routines. He wants me. Me.
“I bought something, too,” he murmurs. “Can I show you?”
I nod with a smile, still woozy from his words. What’s he up to?
Kent opens the top drawer of his dresser and pulls out something long, strappy, and black. The material shimmers and small metal rings sparkle as they catch the light from the bedside table.
“It’s a leather harness. I have no idea how to put it on, but I … I thought you might like it. To grab on to.”
The smile plastered across my face gives me away. I’ve seen them online, in movies, and always thought how hot they were, but not something anyone would wear in real life. And here he is, ready to strap it on for me. Every inch of my body hums at the thought of him wearing it.
“Can you help me?” he asks, holding it up with his head tilted, turning it around, and examining every angle.
I inspect the harness, and the earthy smell of leather fills the air as I find the label and orient it toward the back.
“Here”—I hold open the two sides—“slip your arms through.”
I guide Kent through putting it on, taking the time to adjust the straps on his back so they provide a secure fit without being overly tight.
“Comfy?” I guide him in front of the floor-length mirror against the wall.
“Yeah, I think.” Kent turns around, inspecting his reflection.
“Fuck. It’s hot.” The leather bands cross and frame his chest, pressing the hair down slightly and creating the perfect place for me to grasp on to.
Just below his breastbone, the metal ring beckons, and I finger it, tugging him close. “You are so fucking sexy.” My mouth lands on his, holding him near, lost in his beard, mouth, scent, all of him. When his tongue brushes against my teeth, poking, and he takes a small nibble at my top lip, I’m unsure how long I can wait.
