Page 3 of Husband of the Year
“Yeah. Good. Great. Another.” Olan’s strong fingers grip my cock, and he pumps, taking care to massage under my balls. He reaches under, caressing where his dick stretches me open, and then returns to stroking.
I add my middle finger to the first, and Olan shifts, opening his legs wider and lifting his knees, giving me better access to his warm hole.
“Another.” The word leaps from his lips, and now I’m grinning like I’ve just won the lottery. At home, I’d grab a toy and fuck him properly, but on vacation, we’ll have to make do with finger-banging.
Since we began dating, Olan has continued to defy expectations. Refusing to label his sexuality as bi, pan, gay, or anything really, he’s also rebuffed designations in the bedroom. Technically, we’re versatile with each other, but Olan avoids defining it explicitly.“Why does everything require a label? We’re not clothes.”
The longer we’re together, the more we take turns, and while I’d be happy with either role, being inside Olan while having him inside me is perfection to a tee.
With three fingers he finally seems satiated. He plunges into me while stroking my cock as I go to town on his ass. My thumb glides between his opening and balls, adding pressure and Olan’s hips shake. Deep dicking me while being fucked by a trio of my fingers does the trick. He’s close.
“Marvin…”
“I know. Go for it. Fill me up.”
I squeeze his firm nipple a little harder, and his cock unloads. Throbbing. Pulsing. Shooting inside me. My fingers push deeper, burrowing and stretching until I can’t go any further. Olan’s entire body trembles as he lifts his pelvis, breeding me.
“Fuck. Holy fuck, Marvin.”
Olan’s gaze glues to mine, and he’s quiet while the last spasm explodes inside me.
He jerks me faster, determined to make me come. Olan’s fingers gently graze my chest, finding my nipples and reciprocating the attention I just gave him.
“I’m close,” I say, feeling my orgasm knocking.
“Right here,” Olan replies, nodding at his chest as he thrusts up. “Hit me with your best shot.”
I laugh at his unintentional nod to Pat Benatar, and then it happens. As he remains deep within me, my pulsating cock surges with pleasure, releasing a torrent of scorching cum onto Olan’s glistening chest. It pools in the little dip between his sturdy pecs, and I’m grateful for the extra washcloths we requested from housekeeping.
We’re both still. His fingers still wrapped around my cum-coated cock, Olan whispers, “God, I love you.”
I lean forward, and his dick slips out as my lips find his. My ejaculation, mixed with our sweat, smooshes in between our chests, and there’s something incredibly hot about being covered in the fruits of our labor. I nibble the ChapStick from Olan’s lower lip before reaching up and grabbing at his thick hair.
I deliver a slow, steady kiss, my fingers getting lost in his curls.
“You. Are. My. Favorite.”
Olan laughs and replies, “That makes me very pleased.”
“Now…” I say.
“I know…” Olan kisses my nose. “My guy is hungry.”
“No.” I nip at his chin. “Starving.”
“Let’s get some food.”
I stand to grab a washcloth from the bathroom, and Olan leans over and slaps my ass. I try to give my best annoyed face, but my mouth just ends up looking like it’s trying to whistle with a mouthful of mashed potatoes. He’s clearly not buying it.
“Adorable.”
CHAPTER TWO
“Do you want another margarita?” I move my thumb along the vein I’ve become so fond of, tracing its path on Olan’s forearm. One major benefit of heat and humidity—short sleeves.
We’re sitting at the hotel bar, waiting for a table. The bar itself is a stunning centerpiece, crafted from polished mahogany and adorned with gleaming glass shelves displaying top-shelf spirits and exotic liqueurs wasted on us. We eat at least one meal a day here simply because it’s the closest available sustenance to our bed. And they make mean fish tacos. They put slices of avocado on each one, and then smother them with a spicy crema. I could eat them for every meal. We’ve turned our beach strolls into a full-blown taco tour, diving into every tiny local joint we stumble across, all in the name of finding the island’s best fish tacos. The plot twist? They’re all so ridiculously good, we’re starting to think the tacos have joined forces to make sure we never leave the island.
“Virgin.”
