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9.11 - 46. Chapter 46
September 20, 2001
I don’t think my father knew what me backing off meant, since I’d taken my pledge to my mother to watch out for Maddy very seriously. “You’re her father?” my grandmother asked Cody, in disbelief.
“That’s why she’s so beautiful,” Cody said, and winked at her. I couldn’t help it, I had to chuckle at that. He was so charming, but it was so wasted on her.
“So you’ll keep her away from me, just like they’ve kept these boys away from me?” Grandmother asked. That really pissed me off. Once again, someone was refusing to accept responsibility for their own fuck-ups.
“You know damn well why we haven’t been to see you for the past four years,” I said, with real venom in my voice.
“I don’t,” Dad said.
“Go ahead and tell them why,” my grandfather spat. “They’re all a bunch of liberals. They’ll agree with you.”
“We were visiting...” I began.
“Will,” Darius cautioned me, telling me to stop.
“I think they need to know. What if they try to spin that shit on Maddy?” I asked Darius.
“Spin what shit?” Dad demanded, completely out of patience.
“We were visiting and he was talking about this study they’d done proving that black people weren’t as intelligent as white people,” I said, glaring at my grandfather. “Only he didn’t call them black people.”
“It was a scientific study,” he yelled.
“You used the ‘N’ word,” I shouted back.
“You are referring to ‘The Bell Curve’. There are no conclusions to be drawn from that book, only more questions,” Grand observed. “There were too many variables they did not measure, or consider, and it made the entire book merely an opinion piece.”
“That’s what you liberals do when you don’t agree with something,” he yelled at Grand. “You just say it’s wrong.”
“Do not yell at me,” Grand said firmly. “Do not presume to know my socio-political attitudes, and do not insult me by accusing me of academic dishonesty.” He was really angry, so much that it shocked all of us.
“Leave,” I told them. “Get the fuck out of here.”
“We will talk to you about all of this later,” Grandmother said to Darius in a huff, and then they stormed out of the banquet room.
We all just stared after them, and then at the door after they left. There was an uncomfortable silence after they were gone. “I don’t remember seeing you ever get that mad,” I said to Grand, “unless it was at Dad.”
It was one of those moments where humor worked perfectly. We’d been so stressed out, that this just set everyone off. “I suffer fools badly,” he said, making us all laugh even more.
“Can I talk to you?” Cody asked me. I looked at him, surprised. “Alone,” he added, raising his eyebrow in a flirtatious way, and making me laugh.
“Sure,” I said, raising my right eyebrow suggestively. I followed him out of the room, and out to the walkways that wound toward Rutgers. We didn’t say anything until we got away from the hotel. “So talk,” I said.
“I want to be part of Maddy’s life,” he said. “I didn’t know if I had any rights, so I checked it out, and found out that it’s pretty much a given that I can get custody of her.”
“Only that’s not what Mom wanted,” I objected.
“Because she didn’t think I wanted to be involved,” he said.
“Because you weren’t,” I accused.
He stopped and made me look at him. “If I would have been all involved, it just would have made things tougher for your mother, given her mental state. It’s not like Jeanine and I planned to have a kid, but that doesn’t mean I opted out of my parental obligations. Just because I stepped aside and let her and Hank set up house with Maddy doesn’t make me a bad father.” He’d gotten a little loud, and a little too emotional, so he took a second to pause. “Look, I’m not into babies, but as Maddy gets older, and more interesting, I enjoy her more. So that makes me an asshole. Fine. But it doesn’t change things.”
“You may have the law on your side, but you still haven’t convinced me yet,” I said, like that mattered.
“How do I convince you?” he asked me. That kind of surprised me. I figured he’d tell me to go fuck myself. Then again, Cody was pretty good at figuring out the best way to deal with people, and that would have prompted a pretty strong response from me.
“I don’t know,” I said, and we walked along while I thought about it. “I think that if you showed that you loved her, if you spent time with her, and paid attention to her, that would be pretty convincing.”
“That’s what I’m talking about doing,” he said. He sighed. “How about if I tell you my plan, and you let me know what you think.”
He was dealing with me in a mature, calm, logical way, and he was treating me with respect. Those things usually worked with me. “Go ahead.”
“Tiffany is probably going to stay up in Palo Alto for a while, at least another six months,” he said. “She knows that JJ needs to be around everyone, and she knows that Wade is going to need Riley close by while he deals with all this shit.”
“I didn’t know that,” I said honestly. “I don’t think JJ knows that either.”
“He doesn’t. You want to tell him?”
“No,” I said, laughing.
“I figure that I’ll be up there quite a bit, to see Maddy, and to see your father,” he said.
“And me,” I joked.
“Right,” he said, rolling his eyes.
“Are you in love with my father?” I asked him, totally changing the subject. That really shocked him, and he pondered it for a bit.
“I love him, but I’m not in love with him,” Cody said. “But he’s been there for me when I needed him, and I’ll be there when he needs me.”
“Cool,” I said. “It would have been OK with me if you were in love with him, just so you know.” He smiled at that, and that made me smile too. I didn’t want him to think I was unhappy about him being with Dad, I just wanted to know how he felt.
“Your father will need to be in Palo Alto,” Cody said definitively. “He needs to have everyone around him there, and he won’t want to be in Malibu, where everything will remind him of Robbie.”
“That makes sense,” I said. Those counseling sessions at Goodwell had been so helpful. If Dad was in Paly, he could let his denial slip in more easily when he needed it to.
“Eventually, Tiffany will probably move back to Malibu,” he said, getting us back on topic. “And the plan is for Maddy to come back with her. And Riley too, of course.”
“I can see that,” I said, caving to the inevitable. “I want you to understand why this is such a big deal to me.”
“I know why this is a big deal to you,” he said, annoying me. “She’s your sister.”
“That’s only part of it,” I snapped angrily, then calmed myself. “When I said goodbye to my mother in that tower, she held my hands and made me promise to watch out for Maddy, and I did. I made that promise, and that was the last memory I have of my mother. So that’s why this is a big fucking deal. To me, that was a solemn oath.”
He stopped me again, making me look at his handsome face and into his beautiful blue eyes. “Will, I don’t want to interfere with that. We’re on the same side.” That really resonated with me.
“Good point,” I said. “Christ, I wonder if I’ll be so protective of her, I’ll become a psycho like Gathan.” Cody laughed, since he knew I liked Gathan and didn’t really think he was a psycho.
“Be careful,” he joked. “It could happen.”
September 21, 2001
“This may be tough,” Matt said to me. “You don’t have to go.”
“I can handle myself,” I said rudely, to show just how right he was to be concerned. I relented as quickly as I’d gotten bitchy. “I’m sorry.”
“The anger,” he said, nodding. He reached over and held my hand, a really nice gesture.
“Yeah,” I agreed. He tried to pull his hand away, but I gripped it tighter. “I like holding your hand,” I said, flirting. He laughed, then used his finger to play with my wrist, cracking me up and making me let go.
“How long until you’re eighteen?” he asked, giving me a lustful look.
“Three years, but I can break the law. Wouldn’t be the first time.” Wade was ignoring us, and I was worried we were bothering him, so I changed the subject. “So why are you going to this memorial?”
“It’s actually a wake,” Wade said. “They recovered his body, from the debris and managed to lay it out.” We ignored how macabre this whole conversation was.
“So we get to see him?” I asked. That was freaky.
“Presumably,” Wade said. “You remember John Carullo, our friend from Stanford?”
“Yeah,” I said. “He’s an awesome guy. I walked him back to his dorm after a party one night, after I saved him from some dudes who were throwing beers at him.”
“You did, eh,” Matt mused.
“Told you I’d broken the law before,” I said. Wade ignored our banter.
“Well this guy was Carullo’s boyfriend. Carullo moved back here last June after he graduated. He and Joey were buds growing up, and they ended up dating. They moved in together last month,” Wade said.
“They’d just moved in together, and now he’s dead?” I asked, so saddened by how horrible that would be.
“Yeah,” Matt said. “So he’s pretty fucked up.”
“Duh,” I said. “He’s such a nice guy. He deserved better.”
“He did,” Wade agreed.
“So are you going just to support Carullo?” I asked.
Wade nodded. “He and Joey weren’t out, so no one knew they were a couple. Makes it tougher now, when he’s sort of relegated to ‘buddy’ status instead of ‘boyfriend’.”
“So are we going to the funeral too?”
“No,” Wade said. “Funeral’s tomorrow, and we have to be back in DC by then.”
“Carullo said that Joey’s mom’s a piece of work, so brace yourself,” Matt said. We were going to ask why, but the limo pulled up to our destination, a mortuary in Bayonne.
We walked in and I was struck by how many firefighters were there. I guess that made sense, since that’s what Joey did for a living, but I hadn’t really prepared myself for that. I looked at them with awe, but I recognized their pain. They had the same thing I dealt with, the survivor’s guilt, wondering why Joey had died and they had lived. I scanned the room, looking to see if there were people I knew there, like that was going to happen. I was surprised when it did. I saw Mrs. Carbone, Tony’s mom, talking to a few ladies. She saw me, and I smiled at her weakly, but she just frowned back at me. That surprised me, since I’d always gotten along with her pretty well. She turned away from me and began talking to the other ladies in a more animated way, and since they all glanced over at me, I assumed they were talking about me. Before I could really think any more about that, Carullo spotted us and came over to greet us.
“Hey,” he said, and gave Matt and Wade warm hugs. He was surprised to see me, but he gave me a nice hug too. “Didn’t know you were coming.”
“I hope that’s a nice surprise,” I said, being slightly flirtatious.
“It’s a nice surprise,” he said, smiling briefly. “I heard what you been through. I’m sorry.”
“You’ve been through it just as bad,” I said. He nodded, and swallowed hard, trying not to cry.
“They did a good job with Joey,” he said, biting back the tears. “The mortician made him look like himself.” I guess that’s what people talked about at things like this, but it just seemed hideous to me. I followed them up to the casket.
Before we got there, we were intercepted by a woman who was in her mid-40s, and pretty attractive. She’d been one of the ladies talking to Tony’s mother. She was wearing a black dress with some pattern designed into it, the kind of dress that was almost too flashy for a funeral, but not quite. Her hair was blonde, bleached, and she wore a lot of makeup. “And who do we have here?” she asked, giving us all an appraising look.
“These are friends of mine from school,” Carullo said. “This is Matt Carrswold, Wade Danfield, and Will Schluter.”
“I’m Shirley Martinelli,” she said, with an accent that sounded more like it came from the Bronx. Then again, I wasn’t an expert on east-coast accents. She led us up to the casket, and I was spending my time looking around surreptitiously, so that when we actually got up there and looked at Joey, it totally surprised me. I focused on that nametag, the one I remembered so well: Martinelli.
I felt myself pushing Matt and Wade aside, as I got up next to him. “It’s you,” I heard myself say to the corpse, as I recognized his features, the ones that had been visible. And then that whole scene in the tower came back to me, and I felt the tears start flowing.
“Is he alright?” I heard Mrs. Martinelli ask.
“Will,” Wade prompted gently, but I ignored him. Instead, I reached up and patted Joey Martinelli’s shoulder, just like he’d patted mine.
“Don’t touch my son,” Mrs. Martinelli yelled loudly. “You get away from him!”
That attracted other people, firefighters, who hurried up to the casket and grabbed my arms, holding me back. “What the fuck are you doing?” one of them asked.
“Let him go!” Carullo said, coming to my defense.
“What kind of weirdo are you, coming up and touching my son while he’s in his casket!” Mrs. Martinelli shouted at me. I stared at her for a second, completely stunned at her reaction, but then I found my words.
“I saw him,” I said, almost breathless. “In the Tower. I saw your son when I was going down, and he was going up.”
“You saw Joey in the Tower?” Carullo asked.
“We’d gotten through that hell, around the 80th floor, and I was carrying my sister in front of me,” I said, in a weird stream of consciousness where I was talking and crying at the same time. “We had to keep moving aside for the firefighters, and we were going down a flight of stairs when I saw him. He looked at me, his eyes locked with mine, and when he went by me, he patted me on the shoulder to encourage me.”
“Did he say anything?” Carullo asked.
“I turned around and told him that he had to get out of there, that the building was going to collapse. He told me that they had to get someone three floors up and then they were out of there,” I said. “I’ll never forget the look on his face. I’d never seen someone so brave, so courageous. It’s burned into my brain.” Mrs. Martinelli stared at me, her mouth open. “That’s why I patted him on the shoulder. Because that’s what he did to me on the stairs.”
I felt the firefighters who were holding me release me, and there was a hand on my shoulder in an encouraging way. “You’re that kid,” one of them said. “You made it down Stairwell A.” I nodded.
“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Martinelli said, and started sobbing.
“It’s alright,” I said to her gently. “This is really hard.”
“How would you know?” she demanded, the anger surging forward.
“Because my mother and step-parents were killed in that tower,” I said.
She looked at me and nodded, then pulled herself together. She shot me a big smile. “I was worried you were going to come up here and tell me that in addition to all of this, my son was gay.” Her tone had shifted back to the bombastic mode we’d seen when we first met her. She seemed to think that was funny, and laughed. What the fuck had Mrs. Carbone told her?
“No, that’s my job,” Carullo said. I turned to look at him, completely stunned. I was worried that I’d heard that wrong, but even Wade looked nervous.
“What did you say Johnny?” she asked, zeroing in on him like she was a hunter and he was her prey.
“I said that was my job. To tell you that Joey was gay,” he said. His voice had gotten quieter and weaker as he’d spoken those words, which seemed really strange for such a big dude.
“You would come to his funeral and spread lies about him, about your best friend?” she shrieked. “What kind of piece of shit does that?”
“We were together,” he said to her.
“Lies!” she screamed. A man appeared and looked annoyed.
“What the fuck is going on over here?” he demanded, his accent stronger than even Carullo’s.
“Johnny says that Joey was gay, and that they were...” she stopped, sneered, and then went on. “...boyfriends.”
“You’re saying my son was a fag?” the man demanded loudly.
“Yeah,” Carullo said bravely. It was interesting to watch the dynamic in the room. Most of the people cleared away from the feuding family, even though they were watching intently, but a couple of the firefighters hung around, only in a way that suggested they were there to keep things calm.
“That’s a bunch of shit,” he said. “He was no fag.”
Then Carullo got angry, and got right into Mr. Martinelli’s face. “We been together since high school. You remember that game in our senior year where we had to sit on the bench for the first half? You remember that?!”
“What does that have to do with...?” Mr. Martinelli started to say.
“The coach busted us fucking around, and that was our punishment,” Carullo spat.
“He said you got in a fight,” Mrs. Martinelli said.
“Nope. Not a fight. We were going at it in the locker room,” Carullo said. I tried not to chuckle. “I loved him. I loved him more than anything. But he broke up with me after high school because he knew you’d hate him if you found out he was gay. So he couldn’t be gay, and we couldn’t be together. I left for Stanford, and he stayed here. And then when I moved back, he was the first person I called.”
“He was always dating girls,” Mrs. Martinelli said, almost to herself. Carullo ignored her.
“He told me he’d been miserable without me, and we started going out again. And then last month, we moved in together. I was going to spend my life with him,” he said, and paused to wipe away the tears.
Mrs. Martinelli looked at Carullo in a patronizing way. “I don’t believe that for a minute. What is your mother going to say about this, about you being gay and trying to convince everyone Joey was your boyfriend?”
Carullo looked thoughtful. “She’s going to go off in her room, cry for five minutes, and then she’s going to come back out and hug me, and tell me that she loves me anyway.”
“Right,” Mrs. Martinelli said.
“And my dad is going to say nothing for about a week, and then he’s going to tell me it’s not his business who I love, and that I’m still his son,” Carullo said. They looked at him confused. “That’s what happened when I told them.”
“You told them?” Mr. Martinelli asked.
“I told them,” Carullo said. “I told them about Joey and me, and Ma made me bring him over for dinner. They treated him like a king, and told him how much they liked him, and how glad they were that I’d found a nice boy to be with.”
“They knew?” Mrs. Martinelli asked. “They knew about Joey? He told them, and not us?”
“I wonder why,” Carullo observed snidely.
“So you come down here to my son’s wake and tell me my son’s a fag, and you think that’s a good thing to do?” Mr. Martinelli demanded, pissed off again.
“You can’t hurt him anymore,” Carullo said. “Now you know, but you can’t take it out on him.”
“No, but I can take it out on you,” Mr. Martinelli said, and moved toward Carullo in a menacing way. That was a joke, though, because Carullo could have pounded him into dust.
“Sonny!” Mrs. Martinelli said, stopping him. She turned on Carullo. “You did your deed. You made a horrible day even worse. I didn’t think that was possible, but you did. So why don’t you just get the fuck out of here.” A few people raised eyebrows at that, and I got the impression that she didn’t use the word ‘fuck’ very much.
“Let me say goodbye to Joey, then I’m gone,” he said. He walked over to the casket unmolested, and everyone cleared away from it to give him his space. Carullo knelt next to it, his head over Joey’s body, and while we couldn’t see what he was saying, we could see his body wracking itself apart from his sobs. Matt made to go up to him, but Wade stopped him.
“It’s their last chance together,” Wade said. “Let him have some time alone.” Mrs. Martinelli stood there, glaring at Carullo, taping the toe of her shoe with impatience. I felt the anger building inside of me, and then it burst.
I walked up to her and eyed her coldly. “No wonder he didn’t tell you when he was alive.” She glared at me. “You never got a chance to have both of them over to dinner, to see them together, to see how happy they made each other. You never got to go see their apartment, to see how it was decorated, or even see what it was like. You never even knew your son. And the last thing you do for him is you kick the man he loved out of the mortuary at his wake.”
“How dare you...” she began, getting ready to lay into me.
“He was a brave and honorable guy. He really inspired me on that day. I will always remember him. He deserved better from you,” I all but spat at her. I strode past her toward the door, and paused without quite leaving, waiting for Carullo. Matt and Wade stood off to the side, doing the same thing.
I was minding my own business when Mrs. Carbone came up and stood in front of me. I noticed Matt and Wade moving closer, as if to back me up if I needed help. “Hello,” she said coldly.
“Why are you giving me dirty looks?” I asked, going on the offensive. That was easy enough, since I was still pissed off from bitching at Mrs. Martinelli. “I’ve always been nice to you. What’s your deal?”
“You stalk my son, and you want to know what my deal is?” she demanded.
That was so funny, I had to laugh, which just pissed her off even more. “I stalked your son? Did he tell you that?”
“It doesn’t matter where I heard it, I heard it,” she insisted.
“Well whoever told you that was lying to you,” I said.
“What do you mean?”
“I never stalked Tony. We were friends, and now we’re not,” I said to her honestly.
“Why?”
I sighed. “Look, you want to know why, ask Tony. Ask Tony when it’s just you and him, and ask him to clear up all the bullshit you’ve been told.”
She eyed me carefully, as if trying to decide if I was telling the truth. She knew I was an honest guy, and once she remembered that, it seemed to completely change her attitude. “Will you see him when you get back to Palo Alto?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ll probably run into him, and he’s welcome to come up to Escorial.”
“I want you to tell him something for me.”
“You should talk to him...” I said, but she stopped me.
“I want you to tell him that I wouldn’t react like Shirley did,” she said. I stared at her, digesting what she was telling me. She was implying that she knew Tony was gay. Somehow, that didn’t really surprise me. I was really curious about why she thought I was stalking Tony, but I couldn’t really ask her about that without outing him, and even if she knew, it wasn’t my place to do that. I felt like the two of them were in limbo, and I had to stay away from them until they worked through it.
“I’ll tell him that,” I said. She smiled, and patted me on the cheek.
“Joey was my nephew. He was brave and honorable. Thanks for saying those things,” she said. She turned as she wiped a tear from her eyes, and then walked away from me.
Carullo stood up from the casket and wiped his eyes, then turned around and started heading toward the door. He was almost up to me when I heard Mrs. Martinelli’s voice over the general din of the room. “Johnny!” He turned to look at her. “I’ll see you tomorrow, at the funeral.” He nodded, and walked out.
I fell in step next to him, with Matt and Wade following us. We didn’t say anything until we got outside the building. “Thanks for coming,” he said to us.
“It was no problem,” Wade said. “I’m sorry we can’t stay longer. I have to get back to DC.”
“I know. I’m sorry about your dad, Wade,” he said. He gave them both hugs.
“You want us to drop you back at the hotel?” Wade asked me.
“I can take you back later if you want,” Carullo said, shocking all of us. The poor guy probably didn’t want to be alone after that nightmare.
“Sounds like a plan,” I said to shut up any objections. Matt and Wade got into the limo, while I followed Carullo out to his car.
“Sorry it’s a piece of shit. We didn’t have much money. Rent is expensive,” he said, as we hopped in.
“I could give a shit less,” I said honestly. “What’s your plan?”
“I don’t have one,” he said.
“Show me around,” I said. He looked at me, puzzled. “You grew up here. Show me the places you and Joey used to hang out.”
“You want to see Bayonne?” he asked, chuckling.
“I want to see Bayonne,” I confirmed. He drove me around, showing me the Robbins Reef lighthouse, and the waterfront, where they’d bummed around as kids. He showed me the bad neighborhoods and the good neighborhoods, and even took me on a brief tour of the high school. It was actually really fun, because he told me stories about him and Joey as we went. Most of them were pretty funny, and cracked me up. Every once in a while, he’d get somber, as he remembered what he’d lost, and he’d have to stop and pull himself together.
“Time to eat,” he said, as he pulled up to Hendrickson’s Pub. “This place is good.”
“I’m fucking starving,” I said, “so anything would be good.”
“Why didn’t you say so?” he asked. “We could have eaten sooner.”
“I was having a good time,” I said. He got us a table, and ordered us a couple of beers. My fake ID worked just fine here.
“I probably bored the shit out of you,” he grumbled.
“Not at all,” I said.
“You were raised in California. That beats the hell out of Bayonne.”
“The part I grew up in was pretty nice,” I said with a smile. “But it’s more about the people you’re around than the place you live.” We had some really good food, tossed back a couple of beers, and he told me football stories.
“I’m buying dinner,” he insisted.
“Nope, I am,” I said. He made to argue, but I stopped him. “You’ve driven me around and you’re getting me back to the hotel, so I’m buying dinner. Deal?”
“Deal,” he said, grinning at me. We finished eating and he led me out to the car. “I should probably take you back before it gets late.”
“That’s cool,” I said. I couldn’t tell if he’d said that because he wanted to or because he thought he was supposed to, so I decided to just go with the flow.
“I’d take you to my apartment, but I don’t really want to go there,” he said.
“That’s fine,” I responded. Was he hitting on me? We got to the hotel, and he made to drop me off, but I told him to park. “Come on up for a bit.”
“OK,” he said with a shrug. I managed to lead him through the lobby and up to my room without running into any of my relatives, a coup in and of itself.
He walked in and looked around at the nice room, a junior suite, and seemed really nervous. “Want me to hang up your coat?” I asked.
“I probably should get going,” he said. I could tell he didn’t want to, so I just held out my hand. He took off his coat and handed it to me. I hung his jacket up, and then hung up mine.
“I was thinking we could hang out, watch a movie, order room service, and raid the mini-bar,” I said.
“You sure?” he asked.
“I’m sure. Let’s get comfortable.” I took off my shoes, then my socks, and my pants, and hung my pants up in the closet. My shirt I just threw in the closet, along with my T-shirt. I walked up and held out my hand, his cue to take off his shirt and pants, which he did. I hung them up for him, and then admired his amazing body as he pulled off his T-shirt.
“What do you want to drink?” he asked as he leaned over and opened the mini bar.
I walked up behind him and ran my hand up his back. I could feel him quiver underneath my fingers. “Let’s take a shower.”
He stood up and looked at me like a lost puppy, so I took his hand and led him to the bathroom. We pulled off our underwear so we were naked and I hopped in. I got the water going just right, and then I felt him climb in behind me. He spun me around and wrapped his arms around me, pinning me to his body in a dominant way. His lips were on mine, his tongue was in my mouth, and I could feel his desperation, his need for physical intimacy. God, he was turning me on, with his animalistic grunts, his massive arms that immobilized me, and his aggressive tongue that probed my mouth. But I could tell he was a gentle giant, and I knew that one word from me would stop him cold. That made it even hotter.
He broke off our kiss and moved his mouth to my neck, nuzzling me in a sexy way. “You clean?”
“I am,” I said. “You?”
“Yeah. Got tested a couple of weeks ago, and I’ve only been with...” his voice trailed off.
“Me too,” I said, to take in the slack. I moved my mouth next to his ear and spoke in the same erotic tone that drove Tony wild. “I want you inside me. Fuck me.”
I felt his hands run down my back to my ass, and felt his fingers stroke and probe my hole. I moaned, thrusting into him, rubbing against him while he played with my ass. He spun me around and grabbed for the soap, and using that for lube, he greased up his cock and slowly worked it inside me. Feeling him stretch me out as he entered me was heaven, but that was nothing compared to the next act. Once he knew I had adapted to him, he started fucking me, and man, did he lose it. He was unhinged, just plowing into me over and over again. I felt his hands on my body, playing with my nipples, cupping my balls, stroking my cock, while his mouth assaulted my ear. He nibbled on my lobe, stuck his tongue in my ear, panted as he fucked me, and talked dirty to me in a way that drove me nuts. I felt myself closing in on my orgasm, but I didn’t tell him, because he knew. He played my body that well. When I came, I thought I was going to black out.
I was coming down from my orgasmic high when he had his, shoving his cock as far into me as he could. God, he felt good. After we were both done, we just sort of froze in place, with him still inside me for a few seconds, then he pulled out. “You were amazing,” I said, smiling at him.
“Thanks,” he said shyly.
We rinsed off, and then I took a towel and dried him off, taking the opportunity to appreciate his body. Damn. “Come on.” I led him back to the bed, and pulled out some snacks.
“I probably should go,” he said.
“Spend the night,” I said, more of an order.
“I don’t know...” he hesitated.
“You’re staying,” I insisted with a smile.
“OK,” he said, smiling back at me.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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