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Subject: A Little Bit of Sugar, Chapter 3 A Little Bit of Sugar by RJ This multi-part fiction involves sexual contact between an adult and a minor. If you are offended by such themes, do not read. Note that the characters here fictional and nothing in this story is associated with the company “Vice.” And remember to play it safe in real life! *Edit*: My apologies. Because I was writing a couple different stories at the time, I mixed up the description of Jared in the first chapter. He is younger than Milo and does not have grey hair. Everything else is accurate, though, and his physicality will be described a little more in this chapter. If you have any questions or comments about this piece, want to know about any of my other works, or just want to reach out, please don’t hesitate to email me. A list of my works, including links and descriptions, can be found here: https://bit.ly/2S5IYDI If you would like to be added to a mailing list to receive emails when my stories are updated, let me know which stories (if not all) you would like to receive emails for. Please also consider donating to Nifty if you fty/donate.html ~ CHAPTER 3 ~ I collapse onto my back with a heavy sigh, panting and trying to catch my breath. I worked up quite a sweat after that. Dylan, though… His breathing can’t even be considered labored. It’s a skill he has. Or it’s just his youth. Am I really that old? I adjust the pillow underneath my head before looking over at him. “How are you so…?” I start to say, unsure of what word to use. He looks at me and grins. “Good?” I roll my eyes. “Not my word choice but… sure.” He just shrugs. “I like sex.” I lick my lips slightly. That much is obvious, Dylan. I take a moment to glance at his naked body again as he slides out of bed and starts looking around for his clothes. We’ve seen each other almost every day since I bought him that suit — mostly for babysitting. Jared hasn’t been home for two nights since he’s visiting his parents upstate, and Dylan and I got so caught up in each other last night that he ended up sleeping over. Not like we did much sleeping. I feel a little bad since it was a school night, but he seems as energetic and unbothered as ever. I breathe out slowly through my nose, a question burning at the tip of my tongue. “Am I the first older guy you’ve slept with?” I blurt out as he starts pulling on his underwear. He pauses. “Define older.” “Anyone not in high school.” “Then no,” he says with a cheeky grin. “You’re the oldest, though, if that makes you feel better.” “Who else do you sleep with?” He shrugs. “Right now? Just you,” he says, adjusting his cock in his underwear as he picks up his pants. “The last guy I messed around with was one of my best friend’s older brothers. Another one of those secret affairs,” he adds with a grin. I roll onto my side and smile slightly before a thought comes to mind. “You HAVE been keeping me a secret… Right?” He looks at me as he buttons his jeans. “Slightly,” he says, biting his lip. Slightly? The hell does that mean? “But my friends don’t think you’re real, so whatever.” “You talk about me?” He spends a moment looking for his shirt from yesterday. “I leave your name out of it, so don’t worry,” he says calmly, locating his thin sweater and starting to pull it on. “But when my friends ask why I have hickeys all over my neck,” — he points to the bruises I’ve left on him — “I have to come up with something.” I wince slightly. “What’d you say?” He starts smoothing out his shirt. “That I have a thirty-year-old boyfriend slash sugar daddy,” he says with a smile. “I’m not your boyfriend,” I say quickly. “Sugar daddy, then.” “I’m not your sugar daddy either,” I say. “You buy me things in exchange for sex,” he says, staring at me with a playful smile. “It’s a little sugary.” “I don’t…” But I pause. I bought the suit for him. And a new laptop, even though he didn’t ask. And I renewed his train pass… Maybe he has a point. I just sigh. “Forget it.” I watch him finish getting dressed before he starts checking his phone. Probably responding to his mom. In the meantime, I call him a cab and then throw on a robe so I can escort him downstairs, where he gathers his notebooks to stuff into his backpack. I ask him if he needs an extra pair of clothes or something, but he says we woke up early enough for him to change at home and still make it to school on time. We hear the beep outside soon enough. Must be the cab. Dylan turns to the door before smiling at me. “Off to school, then.” Suddenly, he reminds me of a comment he made just a few days ago. I walk him to the door and unlock and open it, but I pause, holding my arm and barring the exit. “Wait.” He falters, looking at me curiously. “Can I ask you something?” “Sure,” he says, confused. “Remember when you said you always wanted a dad?” He smiles slightly, as if he knows exactly what I’m getting at. He just sighs. “Milo, we were in the middle of fucking.” “Yeah, but is it true?” I ask. He shrugs. “Well, I mean, yeah, why wouldn’t it be true?” I look him up and down quickly. “Is that why you keep seeing me?” He squints ever so slightly, as if trying to read me. Maybe I overstepped with my comments. Fuck. But he’s half-smirking. “Have you always wanted a son?” he challenges playfully. “Is that why you keep seeing me?” He says this all in a mocking voice. “I’m just… trying to understand what’s going on here,” I say, feeling myself blush a bit. “Between us.” “We’re just having fun,” Dylan says. He reaches over and pats my cheek. “Lighten up, big shot.” Then he smiles at me. “Anyway. See you tomorrow.” Tomorrow? Jesus Christ, time flies. He starts his internship tomorrow, after he gets out of school. Which means we’ll be in the same building. In close quarters. “Yeah. See you tomorrow.” “Bye!” he says cheerily, leaning up and giving me a quick peck on the cheek before moving my arm out of the way and slipping out of the house. I lean in the doorway as I watch him go, faintly hearing him hum a tune. Watching him head down the driveway to where the cab is waiting really does feel like I’m sending him off to school. But with hickeys and a load of cum in his ass. I grunt a little as my cock twitches at that thought, and with a heavy sigh, I shut the door. I’m both nervous and excited all day. Excited because this is a good opportunity for Dylan. An investment in his future. But I’m nervous because of how I get when I’m around him. Only just last week did a coworker get into some major trouble for having sex with a minor through one of those dating apps. It was all anyone talked about for days. “Did you hear about Hector?” “Oh my God, can you believe it?” “He probably didn’t know, honestly. Bet that girl lied about her age.” But Dylan hasn’t lied about his age. I know damn well what I’ve gotten into. I just hope I can keep my hands to myself when he’s around. I get caught in a few meetings most of the afternoon, so he’s out-of-mind for a while until I run into him — quite literally run into him. Right after a meeting, I turn a corner and bump into him, almost dropping my laptop. “Sorry the–” And then I notice it’s him. He smiles, and I probably just look like a deer in the headlights. “Hey,” I say. Dylan’s with somebody. Xavier, a gentleman who’s been working with us for a few years now handling most of the administrative tasks. Looks like he’s in the middle of showing Dylan around. “Afternoon, Mr. Fletcher,” Xavier says. “This is Dylan, the new intern.” Dylan makes an expert show of acting like we’ve never met before. “Nice to meet you, sir,” he says, extending his hand. I smile slightly, looking between them before I shake his hand. “You as well,” I say, glancing him over. And there he is, in his new suit, looking excellent. Delicious, in fact. “Mr. Fletcher is kind of a big shot around here,” Xavier says with a smile. “You could learn a lot from him.” “Oh, I have no doubt,” Dylan says playfully, giving me a discreet wink. I clear my throat slightly. “Giving him the tour?” I ask Xavier. He nods. “Just showing him around, introducing him to the important people. That sort of thing. They don’t know exactly what they want him doing yet, so figured a tour would be a good place to start.” Typical. Every time we get an intern, people act like we’ve never had one before and it takes a bit of time before the newcomers can actually do something. It’d make sense to prepare so that they can just hit the ground running. I glance at Dylan before looking back at Xavier. “Bring him by my office later and we’ll figure something out.” I will myself not to look at Dylan as Xavier nods. “Sure thing, Mr. Fletcher.” “Nice meeting you,” I say, brushing past Dylan, but not before I give his upper arm a little squeeze. I retreat back to my office to tackle some of the issues addressed at the most recent meeting, which requires me to send a lot of miscellaneous emails, set deadlines, and start setting aside time for myself to do actual edits of submitted articles. In the midst of scheduling, I hear a knock on the door, and when I look up, Dylan is standing in the doorway, smiling. “Mr. Fletcher, was it?” he says, walking in with a faux-posh accent. “May I perchance acquire a small morsel of your time?” I roll my eyes. “Shut the door,” I tell him as I set my pen down. He just chuckles, closing the door behind him and looking around my office. “Wow,” he says. “Forget editing. You should be an interior designer.” “Don’t exaggerate,” I say, watching him as he takes a seat in front of my desk. But I smile slightly. It’s nice of him to say. I take pride in the spaces I live in, and my office is practically a second-home. So I tried to make things as cozy as possible. Plants. Non-flashy ornaments and art. Lots of photos. “How are things going?” “Great!” he says cheerily. “Everyone’s been really cool so far. And everyone seems to like you.” That surprises me. “Huh?” He just shrugs, giving me a sly smile. “I asked around, just being my normal charming self,” he says, “and no one has anything bad to say about you. Which is annoying because I’m trying to figure out your flaws.” I scoff. “My flaws?” “Yeah. Flaws, weaknesses. That sort of thing.” You mean besides you? “I’m a pillar of strength, kid.” “Mmm,” he says with a happy hum, chuckling a bit. “So what am I supposed to be doing?” “What do you mean?” I ask, confused. “What do you mean what do I mean?” he asks, laughing again. “You told what’s-his-face to send me to your office after the tour. Unless I’m just here to get dicked down?” he inquires, arching his eyebrow. I feel my body temperature rising. “That’s not what you’re here for.” “Dang. I was kind of hoping I was,” he says, giving me that seductive grin of his. Fuck, this kid can make my cock twitch with just a look. “We can’t be doing this at work,” I say, loosening my tie a bit. “Hell, we shouldn’t be doing this at all.” “Why are you so tense?” he asks. Am I that obvious? Now all of a sudden, with him invading my work life, I’m anxious. “I’m fine.” kocaeli escort “You don’t have to lie, you know.” I sigh through my nose, closing my eyes for a moment. “I’m married, Dylan. And you’re just a kid.” “That didn’t stop you before,” he says with a grin as he leans forward and snatches something off of my desk. A photo of me and Jared. “That’s not the point.” “I’m not gonna tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he says, inspecting the photo. “You’ve already told your friends.” “That’s different,” he says before he puts the picture back, straightening it out on my desk. “Jared’s younger than you, right?” he asks, changing the subject. I nod a little. “Yeah.” He’s in his late twenties now, but still has that easy attitude of a California surfer. Emphasized by the fact that that photo was taken on a beach. He’s showing off his long, dark hair and his sculpted body and his charismatic smile while hugging me so tightly to him that I remember not being able to breathe well. It was a candid shot. Somehow our mutual friend managed to snap the picture at the perfect moment. I don’t think I’ve ever seen myself look so happy. “Where’d you guys meet, anyway?” “A party,” I say, clearing my throat. I leave out the fact that it was a sex party. Telling Dylan all about how my husband and I met at a fuck fest would just make him ask more questions. “Romantic,” he says with a small laugh. “I like that he’s growing his hair out again. It’s sexy.” “I agree,” I say. Makes him look more… animalistic, if you will. “Is it weird that he kind of scares me?” he asks. “In a way that turns me on.” I can’t help but laugh. I understand what he means. Jared can easily look intimidating as hell, and with a simple shift in his expression, he can look like the meanest fucker out there. It’s the thick, slanted eyebrows, his imposing physique, and the unadulterated strength he exudes. But, as long as you don’t cross him or do him wrong, he’s a complete softy. An intensely masculine softy. “That’s what drew me to him.” He rubs his chin for a second, visualizing something in his head. “So when you two fuck, does he exclusively top you?” I sigh, running my fingers through my hair. “Do you have any questions relevant to the internship?” “I’m just trying to get to know my boss better,” he says with a shrug before grinning again. “I bet you’re a total bottom with him.” The accusation (although mostly true) makes me blush. “God, what I’d do to watch that sex tape.” “Can we not talk about–” “Do you think he’d fuck me?” I pause, staring at him in silence for a few seconds. “What?” He repeats his question, but more slowly. “Do you… think he’d–” I immediately shut it down. “No.” “Why not?” he says, leaning into my desk even more. It’s not that Jared wouldn’t. It’s that I don’t even want that option on the table. So I simply say “Absolutely not.” “That’s not a reason,” he says. “Dylan–” “It’s only fair,” he says with a grin. “You’ve fucked me how many times now?” “Keep your voice down,” I mutter. Am I sweating? I feel like I’m sweating. “At least give me a threesome.” I hate that my cock twitches at the thought. “That’s not happening.” “It’d be hot. You know it would.” I clear my throat, sitting up a little straighter. “Can we focus on your internship for once?” He sighs in a dramatically bored way. “Fine. But promise you’ll pitch the idea,” he adds with a playful smile. In the interest of ending this conversation, I just lie and say I will before completely switching the topic. “So I have a few things for you to work on…” Over the next few days, Dylan asks at least once a day whether or not I’ve “pitched the idea” yet. I’m fairly sure he does it just to tease me, because I haven’t, of course. I’m terrified of what Jared will say if and when he finds out about me and Dylan. Honestly, sometimes I wonder if Dylan’s seduced my husband already and he’s just playing me. I suppose it’s possible, especially since Jared made a strange comment about the kid already. But I doubt it. For one, Jared runs everything by me, whether it be sexual or trivial, to see if I’d be okay with something. In a weird way, even though he’s much more of a dominant personality, I “wear the pants” in the relationship. So I fully trust that he wouldn’t have any sort of relations without my permission. Plus, Dylan said himself that he finds Jared intimidating. Maybe I just seem like I can be swayed a little easier. Which is true. Even though something about him renders most of my inhibitions nonexistent, I know I need to buck up around this kid. Or at least put up some boundaries. My first thought is to try to keep contact between him and my husband to a minimum. But of course that gets fucked up. I asked Dylan to babysit after work a couple of days ago since I’m taking Jared out for a celebratory dinner (he’s made serious headway on his nonprofit organization and received considerable sponsorship and recognition). So Dylan and I ride the train out of the city together and head straight to my house, where Jared is nearly ready, almost fully dressed but distracted by a phone call. “Hey you,” he says, putting his hand over the receiver and smiling at me. “I’ve been on hold for a fucking half-hour–” Then, he looks surprised to see Dylan walk in behind me. “Oh! Hi, Dylan.” “Hi, Mr. Fletcher,” he says with a bright smile. “Congrats on your nonprofit.” “Thanks,” he says, genuinely thankful but still confused. He turns to me. “What’s he doing here?” I blink. “To babysit Laila…” “Laila’s at Crystal’s, remember?” Oh fuck. I forgot Jared made those plans. He texted me about it just yesterday but I was so bogged down at work that it completely slipped my mind. “Shit,” I say, glancing at Dylan. Jared just chuckles. “You’re so forgetful lately, Milo,” he teases. “Probably the old age,” Dylan chirps in. “Shut up,” I say, and both of them laugh at me. “Sorry I dragged you here,” I tell Dylan. “Um. Want me to call you cab?” “Why don’t you just come to dinner with us?” Jared asks casually. I turn rapidly and stare at my husband. “Seriously?” He looks confused again — probably by my near-outburst of a reaction. “What? He’s dressed for the part.” We did just come from work, dressed in appropriate semi-formal wear, so it would make sense. But before I can come up with some excuse, Dylan eagerly accepts the offer. “I’d love to come!” he says. I just sigh, resolved. “You can’t wear that coat, though,” I say, gesturing to the multicolored winter jacket he’s wearing. “This place is a bit snobby about attire.” “So I’m just supposed to freeze?” he asks, glancing at the cold outside. “I’m sure we have something you can wear,” Jared says, running his fingers through his hair as he heads towards the closet and tucks his phone between his head and his shoulder. He hums a bit, leafing through some of the jackets before he finds a coat that would be both warm and appropriate. Too bad it’s huge. “Babe, do you have anything upstairs that would fit him?” he asks as he pulls the coat out and realizes it’s one of his. But Dylan snatches it up. “This should be fine.” Jared laughs as Dylan tries to put it on. “It’s too big on you, kid.” And it is. It hangs on him a bit, but not as terribly as I expected it to. “It’s cozy,” he says with a bright smile. Jared looks at me and I just shrug. “I guess it works.” Once Jared gives up trying to get a hold of customer service for our internet provider, we make our way over to the restaurant. I’m mildly tense during the drive. Usually I’m not on edge when I’m with both Dylan and my husband because I know Dylan would never say anything outright about us, but he’s skilled at making things (oxymoronically) subtly-obvious. And his playful adamancy concerning this threesome makes me think he’ll try and plant the seed himself. Overall, though, the conversation is pretty tame. There are some light, innocent bits of flirting from Dylan’s end (usually in the form of unnecessary compliments) but nothing to raise flags. As we sip our drinks and start tackling our meals, Jared’s curious to know how Dylan’s internship is going and how he manages to balance that with school and his social life. He seems impressed by this kid’s tenacity. “I was a slump when I was your age,” he says with a laugh. “Didn’t care about anything.” “What about now?” Dylan asks. “This nonprofit is the first thing I’ve really felt passionate about,” he says. “Besides my family.” Then he turns to me and gives me a private smile, squeezing my thigh under the table. I can’t resist smiling back, wanting to lean over and kiss him. “You got a boyfriend, kid?” he asks suddenly. Dylan just laughs. “Oh no. I don’t have time for that.” He snorts, glancing at me again. “Sounds like someone I know.” I wince slightly but laugh. Jared wore me down a bit when we first met. Sure, we had intense sexual chemistry at that party, but I wasn’t looking to date. I had my career to focus on. But he was persistent — not in a bothersome way, necessarily. Rather, he made it known that he was there and that he wanted me. And eventually, after seeing him try so often, I gave in. “Well, don’t waste your youth, Dylan,” Jared says. “Yeah, you’ll turn out like us,” I chime in. “That doesn’t seem so bad,” Dylan says, resting his chin in his hand. “You guys seem happy.” Jared glances at me, laughing softly. “Are we happy, love?” I smile a little before my leg vibrates a bit, and I’m confused for a moment before I realize it’s my phone. Someone’s calling me. I swear under my breath and pull it out of my pocket, and my eyebrows raise when I see who it is. Immediately I pick up Crystal’s call. “Hello?” “Mi-o?” I hear her voice, but it sounds a little far away, and at first, her words keep getting cut out. Once the connection becomes clearer, though, I still can’t understand her. It’s too loud in this damn restaurant. “Hold on, Crystal,” I say, starting to shuffle out of our booth. Jared looks at me when he hears me say her name. “Everything okay?” I just shrug but give him a look that says “I’m sure everything’s fine.” I step away from the table and head towards the restrooms, since I know those will be fairly quiet. Expelling a breath, I step into the single and try again. “Crystal?” “Can you hear me now?” she asks me, and I sigh. “Yeah. What’s up?” “I hate to ask this, but can you come back and get Laila? I tried to get a hold of Jared but he didn’t answer his phone, I don’t know if you’re home–” “Is everything okay?” I butt in, feeling anxious. “My mother’s in the hospital,” she says, sounding slightly distressed — although that’s her normal state. “She had a fall. I think she’s fine but they’re total dicks about their visiting hours and–” “No, I understand,” I say, rubbing my forehead. I feel a bit relieved that the kids are okay, at the very least. “Um. Do you need us to take Izzy, too?” I ask, figuring she needs someone to watch her daughter. “Could you?” she asks, sounding absolutely relieved. “That would be such a big help. Just for tonight, I promise.” darıca escort “Yeah, of course. Can you give us twenty minutes?” After hashing out the details with Crystal, I hang up and make my way back to our table, sighing at the both of them. Seems they mostly finished their meals, which is good, at least. I eat slow, so I didn’t make much progress. I’m a little upset about that. “We gotta go,” I say to Jared, already pulling my wallet out. “What? Why?” he asks, looking worried. “Crystal’s mom had some sort of fall. She needs us to watch the kids.” He rolls his eyes. “That woman is the clumsiest–” I hit his shoulder. “Be nice,” I say, but Dylan chuckles slightly. “Can’t we finish our dinner?” he asks. “I was hoping to get dessert.” “I already told her we’d be there in twenty,” I explain. He sighs. “I mean, her mom’s not going anywhere.” “Seriously?” I say, raising my eyebrows. Sometimes he says some childish things. But Dylan gets a kick out of it. He just holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Let’s go,” he says, sliding out of the booth. Dylan follows suit too, stuffing his face quickly with as much food as can fit in his mouth before he stands up. I leave a substantial tip at the table and pay the host in cash for the meal itself on our way out. I apologize for having to leave so suddenly, but, unsurprisingly, he’s just happy to get paid. It’s a fairly quick ride to Crystal’s. After she thanks me profusely for cutting dinner plans early, we get the kids into the back of the car to sit with Dylan. I offer to bring him home, but he refuses the suggestion twice. “A cab is fine,” he says insistently. I find that a little odd since it doubles the amount of time for him, but I don’t push him. I’ve had a suspicion that he just doesn’t want me to see where he lives. It’s come up a few times now, and though I’m curious to see why he’s so against the idea, I don’t want to embarrass him. I can only imagine, though. Poor kid who’s working odd jobs to help his mom? He’s their only source of income right now, from my understanding. Unless his mom was good with keeping a hefty savings account on reserve, things can’t be that great. Once we get back to the house, I call Dylan a cab as requested while Jared gets the kids situated and brings them upstairs to Laila’s room. Dylan waits with me in the kitchen, resting his hip against the counter until I hang up the phone. “Thanks for taking me out to dinner,” he says with a smile. Not a sly smile, but a soft one. I nod. “Yeah, of course.” “And… Well, not just dinner,” he starts to say. I raise my eyebrows in anticipation for something sexual, but he keeps things appropriate. “You’ve been so kind to me ever since we met and… Well, I don’t really know how to properly say thank you,” he says with a laugh, scratching the back of his head. I’m surprised that he’s not in flirtation-mode. This seems genuine and heartfelt, and I find it endearing. “I care about you, you know,” I admit. His smile broadens. “I know.” Then he looks down and shuffles his feet for a moment before saying “Can I ask you something?” “Sure.” I cross my arms in anticipation. “Would you be up to… meeting my mom?” Of all the things he could of asked, I would have never guessed that. “Your mom?” I ask, surprised. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m whoring myself out with all the money I’ve been saving up,” he says with a laugh. “It’d be nice if I can prove there’s legitimacy behind my, um… income.” Then he smiles. “Plus, I just want you to meet her.” I’m a little touched at that last sentiment. He talks about his mom often, and clearly has an intense respect and adoration for her. And though I often reassure him how excellent her doctors are, he gets anxious when thinking about her going under the knife soon. Which I understand. I’d be shaking in my fucking bones if Jared or, even worse, Laila had to have some sort of corrective, internal surgery. “I’d love to meet her,” I say. “Really?” he says, his eyes lighting up. “Awesome.” I laugh. “Did you think I’d say no?” “Can you blame a guy for having doubts?” he says, hitting me with that playful grin again. Before I can respond, I hear a large thud, followed almost immediately by some crying. I close my eyes, swearing under my breath. The hell is going on? “You mind if I–?” “Not at all,” Dylan says, catching on quickly. “I’ll just wait outside for the cab.” He takes off Jared’s coat to replace it with his own. “Alright. Well… Have a good night then,” I say, eyeing him a bit. “And let me know about your mom.” He smiles at me. “I will. Thanks again, Milo.” I leave Dylan to wait for his ride while I head upstairs to investigate the noise. Turns out Laila and Izzy were getting a little too aggressive with their pretend-ballet classes and knocked into her little nightstand, knocking it over and therefore causing her homemade vase of flowers to shatter. She’s a sensitive girl, so immediately she started bawling. Jared was quick to reassure her that they’ll make a bigger, better one together, and by the time I get into the room, Laila is pretty consoled. I clean up the mess before Jared and I let them continue playing ballerina while we head to our room to get undressed. “These kids,” he mutters, chuckling slightly. I laugh. “I’ll have to get more pottery stuff,” I say. “Laila and I used the last of it on her clay animals.” “Well, it was put to good use,” Jared says with a smile, heading over to the dresser and starting to undo his shirt buttons. “Dylan gone?” “Yeah, I think so,” I say. “Waiting for the cab.” He nods. “He’s a bold little fellow, isn’t he?” he asks as he pulls his shirt fully open. I laugh slightly. Oh, you have no idea. “Yeah, he is,” I say, joining him by the dresser and taking my tie off in the mirror hanging above it. I need to get into some comfier clothes. “Pretty flirtatious, too.” I roll my eyes slightly. “Everyone flirts with you, Jared,” I say, as I undo the first few buttons and then just slide my entire shirt over my head. I’m feeling far too lazy to fuss with buttons. “Some high school kid is no exception.” “Not with me,” he says as he takes his pants off, “with you.” I pause. “Me?” “Yeah,” he says casually. “He kept looking at you while he was talking to me.” He grins at me. “I think someone has a crush on you.” I’m pretty sure I’m blushing. “Stop joking around,” I tell him. “What?” he says, still grinning as he gets behind me and wraps his broad arms around my frame. “Why are you always so surprised people find you attractive?” “I don’t know,” I say simply, looking at us in the mirror. Me shirtless. Him in just his boxer briefs and an opened dress shirt, his towering form holding me tightly. “You don’t understand how sexy you are,” he mutters in my ear, and as he slides one of his hands teasingly closer to my crotch, I swallow thickly. I definitely feel myself getting turned on. It’s that tone of voice he uses — it always gets me in the right headspace. He kisses my neck gently before laughing. “He asked me if we’ve ever had a threesome before.” “What?” I ask, completely breaking out of that turned-on trance I was falling into. I turn around to face him. “When?” “When you were in the bathroom,” he says, surprised at my reaction for a moment before he smiles. “Technically sex parties don’t count as threesomes, right?” “Technically,” I repeat, feeling nervous. Did Jared tell him about the parties? That we still go to on occasion? “You didn’t–?” But he anticipates my question. “I didn’t tell him about the parties, babe,” he says with a laugh. “I’m not dumb. I just said no.” He leans into me more and practically pins me against the dresser. “Don’t worry. I didn’t tell him you’re a freak,” he adds with a grin. “I just told him you’d probably get jealous.” I’m a little offended that he thought I’d get jealous. “Me? Why me?” He just shrugs playfully before kissing me once, keeping it slow as if testing the waters. “You were pretty jealous the night we met,” he says against my lips. I swallow a little spit. “Like you didn’t want me.” “Oh I wanted you,” he says, totally unafraid to admit it. He’ll always be the first to profess his attraction to me. “I wanted you bad.” Then he goes in for a slightly deeper one when he notices I don’t pull away from his lips. It’s a short kiss though. “I am a little surprised we’ve never done a threesome shindig before.” Honestly, considering the number of times we’ve gone to my buddy’s sex parties, I’m a little surprised too. But orgies seem less intimate than threesomes to me. “What, do you want Dylan to be the first?” I challenge. He just shrugs, grinning at me sexily. “I think he wants to fuck us,” he says, grabbing my ass. “Specifically you.” “No he doesn’t.” “Yeah he does,” he insists. “I’ve had this suspicion for a while.” I swallow thickly. “Do you want him to fuck us?” He grins slightly, pausing for a moment. “Is it bad that I wouldn’t say no?” Oh, Dylan. Guess he planted the seed in a smart way. The little bastard. “Kinda,” I say, and then I tease him by calling him a perv. “Sue me,” he says with a grin, and I smile slightly. At least it’s confirmed that he’s not opposed to it. That makes me feel a little better. A little turned on, too. I get flashing images of my husband mounting our babysitter and suddenly my cock is already aching. So I don’t pull away when Jared leans down to kiss me again. In fact, I kiss him back. It starts slow, but as his grip on my ass gets a little tighter and he presses into me more, the kisses deepen. We start tasting each other’s tongues. My heart starts racing. Suddenly he picks me up and sets me on top of the dresser, our lip-lock getting even more intense. I keep my arms around him and drag my hands down his bare back, loving how warm he is. Then, his hands shift from my body to his as he pulls his underwear down his legs and steps out of it. I gulp a bit, eyeing that heavy cock between his legs before he gets back in between mine. This time, he takes his hand and slides it into the back of my pants, trying to get at my hole. I gasp. “Babe,” I say, trying to resist, “the kids–” “We can be quick,” he says softly, taking one of my hands and guiding it into his underwear. Immediately, my fingers wrap around the girthy shaft and start stroking him gently as his finger finds my hole and rubs it in circles. He leans in and kisses me softly. “I want you. It’s been too long.” I get shivers. When’s the last time we fucked? That’s the issue with having a young kid in the house. Your sex life takes a backseat. Oral is pretty easy to sneak in when we want to, but fucking? Making love? Forget it. The stars have to align for that to happen. I think about Laila and Izzy innocently playing in Laila’s bedroom. Hopefully they’re fully invested in their ballerina fantasies. Maybe if we’re quick, like he said… “I see the gears turning,” Jared teases, grinning at me. I blink. “Sorry.” He laughs. “Don’t be,” he says, moving his hand from my pants to start undoing my belt. “Just let gölcük escort papa fuck you.” I blush slightly and laugh, but I don’t stop him from unfastening my belt, opening my pants, standing me back up, and pulling them off my legs. Then comes the underwear. My almost embarrassingly-hard cock swings free when released from the constrains of the fabric, and he chuckles a bit, gripping me in his large, warm hand. I whimper slightly, clutching onto his arms. We should really lock the door– “C’mon, Milo,” he says teasingly, stroking me with one hand and playing with my ass with the other. I grunt. “What?” “Tell me you want me.” “You already know that,” I tell him. “Oh I know,” he says in that low voice of his, and my level of horniness shoots through the roof, “but I still want to hear you say it.” I swallow all the spit that accumulated in my mouth. All the spit I wanted to use on his body. “I want you,” I say softly. He smirks. “How do you want me?” he teases. He just wants me to beg him to fuck me. But we shouldn’t. “We don’t have the time, nor the privacy–” He just kisses me on the lips, shutting me up for a few moments before he spins me around and bends me over the dresser. I feel his hand at my ass, gripping and groping. Then, he slaps my ass, and the smack echoes off the walls along with my surprised yelp. Before I can retort, he squats down, leans forward, and bites one cheek while groping the other. I bite down on my lip hard, grunting until he starts to kiss closer and closer to his goal. My mouth opens on its own accord as soon as his tongue makes contact with my hole. My body wants to both pull away and push back against him, but he keeps a firm grip on me to keep me in place. One lap. Two laps. Three, five, seven. It’s making my knees quiver. I can’t even remember the last time we fucked. Couple weeks, at least. Part of me misses the early days. We’d fuck constantly. Our sexual dynamic hasn’t changed much since we’ve met. Just the frequency. I push my ass back against his face more and he responds with deeper probes with his tongue, slipping it past my ring and entering me. I groan, gripping the back of the dresser tightly as he loosens me up. He kisses down over my taint as he reaches between my legs and pulls my cock back towards him. I groan and bend over a little more when he guides the head of me into his mouth. Fuck. I’m sure he’s getting plenty of precum. I’m quite the leaker during sex. And Jared moans deeply as he blows me, which is just his way of letting me know that he likes how I taste. Now I’m thinking about blowing him too. Fuck, I’d love to have my mouth on his dick right now. That perfectly thick limb of his. But time is of the essence, I suppose. The last thing we need is to waste time and then be interrupted. If we’re really going to fuck, that is. “Jare,” I moan out softly, and I feel my cock swing free from his lips. As he stands up behind me, I feel him spread my cheeks and press his thumb firmly against my hole. Then, he leans forward and puts his lips on my shoulder, biting down enough to surely leave a bit of a mark. He always follows up a rough bite with a tender lick or kiss, and he moves his lips up towards my neck. I can feel his cock against my ass, stiff as a board. God, I want to let him so badly. Just slide right into me and– He grips my hair and tugs to ensure that I’m facing the mirror. “Look,” he says, and I open my eyes, watching the both of us. “Look how fucking hot you are.” I gulp as he continues kissing my neck, eyeing us over. My eyes naturally want to fix on my husband, but I try to see myself from Jared’s point of view. It has always felt strange to me to feel confident and sexy and all that. Jared does it in such an effortless, unassuming, humble way, but it always feels narcissistic when I have a shred of confidence concerning my looks. At the very least, I know I’m good-looking, but anything beyond that feels like I’m letting Jared inflate my ego too much. But if he’s saying the same things that Dylan says… “Hey,” Jared says, and I blink, looking at him now. He’s smiling at me in the mirror. “Hey.” He wraps his arms around me a bit, pressing his groin into my backside. “I’m gonna take what I want,” he says in such a low voice that my hole twitches. “Okay,” I say, trembling in anticipation. What else can I say? He just grins, staring at me for a moment before bringing his fingers to his lips. He licks them once to get them wet and then rubs the spit into his cock. I can hear the wet noises he’s making, but through the mirror, I can’t see what he’s doing — I just see his arm moving back and forth. And then, he steps a little closer. I feel the head of his cock searching for my hole between my cheeks, running up and down, and I clench my teeth down as he pushes forward against me. The head pops in faster than I thought. “Fuck!” I grunt, and his grip on me only gets tighter. He says “Shhh” in my ear, kissing my neck as he eases his fat cock deeper into me. My eyes roll back from the burning pleasure. Christ, it really has been a while since we’ve fucked, because it hurts a bit. But not enough to stop. And I’ll be damned if we stop now. I just do my best to relax my body as Jared starts pumping his hips back and forth. Stroking myself always helps, so I reach between my legs and wrap my fingers around my stiff member, moaning out as softly as possible. We’ve never done it in front of a mirror before. It’s strange facing ourselves, seeing the action so up-close and from an angle we couldn’t perceive normally. It’s sort of erotic. Mostly I like the way Jared’s eyes scan the scene and how intense his facial expression is. He looks mean. Feral. Completely sexy working his hips against my ass. “Taking me”, as he says. And he does just that. As his hands grip my hips, he starts giving me deeper, more insistent thrusts. Then, suddenly, he closes his eyes for a moment and lets out a soft moan. “You feel so fucking good,” he mutters. I’d be lying if his compliments didn’t keep me going. A lot the appeal of being with Jared is how I make him feel. He’s doting, loving, and exceedingly vocal about how turned on I make him… I know he loves me, and I know how sexy I am to him, and I love that he’s completely unafraid of telling me that. It’s something I’ve always struggled with myself, and even though he’s brought that out of me more through the years, I usually show it through actions rather than words. Some are simple actions, too. Like pushing back against his hips to take him deep. Or moaning a little louder when his dick hits just the right spot. Or locking eyes with him through the mirror as he grips my hips and picks up the pace several notches. I’ve got him now. “You’re gonna make me cum staring at me like that,” he says with a half-grin. Immediately, I say “Cum in me.” Even the last time we fucked, he didn’t get to cream me. I need it. He licks his lips. “Yeah?” “Please.” He hums a bit before grabbing my hair, tugging my head back, and kissing me hard. We share a sloppy, tongue-filled kiss mostly disrupted by my moans while he holds onto me and ruts against my backside. His hand that’s on my hip tightens a little more, and that’s when I know he’s about to cum. So I work my magic. I clench and unclench my hole expertly on his dick, milking the load out of him, and he grunts in response, breaking the kiss and breathing against my lips as he gives me a few more good thrusts. I whimper slightly but moan as he empties his balls inside of me, grinding his hips slightly and giving me short, infrequent thrusts until he’s spent. “Fuck,” he groans when he finishes, letting go of my hair. He pulls out of me fairly quickly, and I gasp a bit from the sensation. It was a big load, that much I’m sure of. I can feel his cum leaking down the back of my leg. He chuckles a bit, pushing down on the small of my back so that I stick my ass out a bit more for him. I feel so exposed to him, which just turns me on even more, knowing he’s watching his load drip from my freshly-fucked hole. I jerk myself off in slow strides as I feel his eyes on me. With my other hand, I reach back and paw at my hole, feeling how wet it is. “Damn, that’s hot,” Jared says softly, slapping his cock against my ass. He moves my fingers out of the way and replaces them with his own, gently teasing me before inserting two fingers straight away. My toes curl as he gets them at just the right angle, working them back and forth against my prostate until I can no longer hold my cum back. I grunt and swear, trying my best to just cum on the top of the dresser to minimize mess. I spray a thick load across the bureau, panting from breathlessness until the tip of my cock is just dripping with a few heavy drops. “Nice,” Jared says, peering over my shoulder and chuckling. He gives my ass a quick caress before heading across the room to grab tissues. “I had no other option,” I say, taking the tissues from him and turning to clean up my mess. However, before I can turn around, Jared grabs the side of my head with one hand, leans down, and kisses me. It’s a deep but tender kiss, and I rest one of my hands on his side while he claims me with his lips. That’s what it feels like, at least. He breaks the kiss slowly and then licks his lips as if relishing the taste. “I love you.” The smile appears on my face involuntarily. “Love you too, Jare.” He kisses me again, but keeps this one short and sweet. “Now clean up your mess,” he says, slapping my ass. I laugh a little, turning around and starting to wipe up my cum off the furniture. Then, Jared gets the idea to clean up his mess too. I don’t even notice him bend down behind me until I feel his hands pulling my cheeks apart and then his tongue at my hole. I gasp out, my whole body erupting in goosebumps as his tongue laps at and dips into my hole. I have to steady myself by keeping a firm grip on the edge of the dresser. “Jesus Christ,” I moan out, my hole feeling especially sensitive. Plus, it’s making me hard again. But it’s over before I can get used to the sensations. Jared stands up behind me, and when I look up in the mirror, I see him grinning at me, the facial hair around his mouth wet from his cum. “Couldn’t resist,” he says, leaning over me to kiss my cheek. “I hate you for stopping,” I say, pushing back against him. He grunts but laughs. “You’re the one who complained about not having enough time,” he says, running his large hand up and down my torso a few times. I sigh. “I can’t wait ’til Laila gets older,” I say, rubbing my face. “I miss our old sex life.” “I wouldn’t say ‘old’,” Jared says. “It’s just different now.” He smiles slightly before turning me around to face him. “Plus, the sneaking around is kind of hot, no?” he adds. “Racing against the clock and all that?” I smile a little bit. “I guess so,” I say with a little laugh through my nose. “‘I guess so’,” he says mockingly. “I’m still very, very happy,” he assures me, stroking my side with his knuckles. “Even with how things are now. Are you?” I don’t have to hesitate to answer. “Yes.” And I mean it. I put my hands on his hips and lean up to peck him on the lips. I am happy. It’s just hard to shake the feeling that something is missing. Not from my marriage, but from my life in general. From me.

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