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Summary: Miles gets to know Jack while Derek struggles with Simon.
Chapter Themes: M/M, Age difference, open marriage, public sex, mentions/acts of breeding
Chapter Main Characters:
Miles - 48 y/o. Married to Derek. Proposes an open marriage after their son, Sam, moved out for college
Derek - 32 y/o. Married to Miles. Decided to go to college after moving to a new city. Simon's lover.
Jack - 40(?) something y/o man that flirts with Miles.
Chapter Supporting Characters:
Simon - 18 y/o. Derek's new and current BF. Goes to the same college as Derek.
Sam - 18 y/o, adopted son of Miles and Derek (adopted when he was just 4 y/o). Currently a college student.
A Step Forward and Two Steps Back
The fact that Jack didn't draw every eye in the room was quite incongruous with how he looked to me. To say that he was handsome would be a dire understatement. I looked around as he maintained eye contact, unsure if the intense gaze indeed was directed at me.
"I'm sorry, are you really talking to me?" I asked, confused.
"Why wouldn't I be?" He chuckled before taking another sip of his drink. "There's not a lot of people here tonight."
"Ah, right," I nodded at his statement, understanding his sudden interest. Slim pickin's it seems.
"Sorry, that didn't come out right," he replied with a grimace before running a large hand across his smooth head. "What I meant to say was, even if there obviously aren't a lot of people here tonight, I'm talking to you because I want to. Not because there aren't a lot of people here."
His rambling explanation took me by surprise, "you don't look like the kind of person who'd ramble, or be nervous about something."
In my pocket, I felt my phone buzz again - but I ignored it.
"Really? You're not more impressed by the fact that I probably just read your mind just now?" He asked, seemingly amused by my response.
"Well, you already look like the kind of guy who knows his shit. Like the man who's got his act together. Like the kind of guy who not only has the job he wants, but is also really, irritatingly, good at it. Probably something to do with finance like trading, or maybe banking, or financial law," I explained as I looked him up and down.
He gave me an amused look and nodded at my statements, "okay, I guess this is where we're going. Go on then, analyze me."
Encouraged by his statement, I continued with my assessment, "alright. You're wearing an expensive suit and really expensive leather shoes that you've hardly used, either because they're new or because you don't go to a lot of places where they would get dirty. You probably usually get driven around more often than you drive yourself or walk, or take public transit. You probably spend an arm and a leg on grooming products, like fancy beard trimmers, and use really expensive but awesome smelling beard oil. I wouldn't be surprised if you live in one of those million dollar brownstones nearby."
"Wow, okay. All that within the first five minutes of talking to me?" He asked dubiously.
"It hasn't been five minutes," I pointed out.
"Is this what they call a `read'? Am I using that right?" He asked with a lopsided smile, as if he had just told the funniest joke.
"Oh, I'm not done," I replied, having gotten quite into making the analysis. "I don't think you're a trust fund kid as your hands are too rough for that. I think you probably worked in some kind of trade before you got into whatever made you money. Or, I could be wrong and maybe you just have very particular hobbies that result in your hands being as rough as they are."
I turned my seat more toward him to get a better look at his whole body. He took another sip of his drink, looking more bemused by the second. He made a small motion with his hands, egging me on to continue.
"Going by your accent, I'd say you were from Boston or at least from one of the suburbs nearby. You're not married. You like to smoke, cigars probably, going by what I smell on you. I bet they're expensive as hell, though."
"Wait, you can smell my beard oil through the cigar smell?" He asked with a smile.
"I have a really good nose," I replied with a serious nod.
"Okay, well, is this analysis just a one way thing, or can I play too?" He asked with a grin.
I downed the rest of my beer before giving him my full attention, motioning with my hand for him to start. He took another sip of his drink before taking the seat next to me.
"I think you have this weird contradiction about you. That you have surprisingly low self-esteem despite looking like you do. Most of the time I've seen you here, you're usually in this exact same seat, drinking the exact same drink, not talking to anyone unless someone talks to you first."
"You've been watching me?" I asked, surprised. But he just shook his head and raised a finger to stop me from speaking.
"Uh uh, still my turn," he replied with a smirk. "I think the self-esteem thing has something to do with that younger man I've seen around, who apparently is your husband. You guys have an open relationship, but I think it's mostly just him right now with other men. You've been with other guys too, but personally I think they have no clue what to do with you, really just wasting your time. Your husband, on the other hand, has been spending a lot of time with this little twink around town. I don't know what he sees in that kid when he's got you."
"You've been following me?" I asked, with narrowed eyes and with slight surprise. The surprise was more about the fact that someone managed to follow me without me noticing.
"Well, some of it? I might've... hired someone..." he replied with a wince.
"You hired someone to follow me? Why?" I asked.
"Well, you're right about most of what you said," he explained. "Which is really impressive, by the way. But you're right in that I'm a pretty busy guy. And I've seen you around. And despite looking like me and having what I have, I like being prepared when faced with something that I really want. I mean why shouldn't I be prepared when I've got the money for it? And, I really wanted you."
"You know that normal people would just try to start a conversation when they want to flirt, instead of stalking them?" I point out.
"You stalk people professionally as a PI," he retorted. "A damn good one at that. We're probably the least normal people here."
"Mhm, I don't know you well enough to know if that's true," I replied.
"I'm kind of hoping that you will," he said with a smirk before ordering another drink with just a motion of his hand.
A typical, sane, man would probably be distrubed by someone's confession that they had him followed because they had a crush. And because they could easily afford it. But was it so wrong that I found that kind of charming, if not a bit of a turn on?
For the most part, my impromptu analysis of Jack Fowler seemed to be right on the money. He was the quintessential successful stockbroker. Well, more like he had started as a stockbroker, but now had his own, very successful, firm. Despite his success and the stereotypes associated with men in his line of business, his interaction with me belied some level of insecurity that surprised and enthralled me. But despite this, he trudged on seemingly with a very specific goal in mind. And clearly, for whatever reason, that goal was me.
I took all of this with a grain of salt, of course. I wasn't naive enough to take everything he told me, and the way he acted, at face value. But damn, I let him talk and let him lead me to the goal where he, and I wanted. Despite his outwardly intimidating facade, the man was charming as hell. He probably could charm the bacon out of a pig. In a short amount of time, I could no longer ignore the clear attraction I had towards him. His goal became a mutual goal.
Our mutual goal was accomplished within fifteen minutes of meeting, finding ourselves making out in a bathroom stall. His tongue filled my mouth, one hand cupping the back of my head, while the other played with my ass as he pushed me against the stall.
His tongue was thick and wet, eagerly exploring my mouth as I wrestled against it with my own. I had thought that his beard would be like sandpaper against my skin, but it was soft and fragrant. I couldn't help but cup his jaw, exploring the feel of the thing with my hands. The sounds of our wet kisses were loud in the empty bathroom, with our occasional moans echoing against its walls as we pressed against each other.
I could feel his eagerness against my leg, and it felt thick and hard, likely straining against his expensive dress pants. My own erection had come to full mast, kept in check only by my briefs, leaking a little bit of precum every time Jack ground his hips forward. My focus was mostly on the weight of his body against mine, but it was hard to ignore the persistent buzzing and vibration in my pants.
"Fuck, I want to say to ignore it, but I'm guessing that's your husband calling again," he said in between kisses before moving his face to suck and nip at the skin on my neck.
"I can ignore it," I replied, as I moved my dominant hand down towards his crotch.
"I want to fuck you," he said before once again taking my lips against his own.
"Fine by me," I replied eagerly, using both hands now to unbuckle his belt.
"I meant properly, on a bed. Or any other flat surface in a room that doesn't smell like piss," he explained, pulling away to look into my eyes.
"This is fine. I'm up for it," I said eagerly, my skin still flushed and my heart still beating fast as I played with the buttons of his pants.
He stopped my ministrations by holding my wrists down with his large hands and stared me down. "I'm serious. I want to take my time. I'm pretty big, so I want to open you up properly. And I want it to last. I want to fuck you so long and hard that you'll be incoherent by the time I finish."
"Well, fuck. Let's do that then!" I replied eagerly at his description.
"I actually can't tonight. I have things I need to do in about thirty minutes that I can't get out of," he explained.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I asked dubiously.
He had the grace to look abashed by his excuse, "I thought I'd shoot my shot when I saw you through the window when I passed by. Didn't think we'd get this far so quickly in just one night."
"Are you saying I'm slutty?" I asked with a raised brow.
He nods with a smile, "happily calling you slutty. And I'm right there slutting it up with ya. Would gladly make things even more obscene if I didn't have to go."
I sighed heavily at his explanation, growing more disappointed by the second. Recently, it had been a rare opportunity to chub up on my own without using a pill or watching Derek with another man, and I had every intention of taking advantage of it. I looked at him with narrowed eyes, and he shrugged his shoulders, looking simultaneously proud and embarrassed for himself.
I thought for a moment, my cock still hard and straining against my briefs, while looking down at Jack's clearly hard member.
"Well, how about just jacking each other off?" I offered.
"Yeah, that works," Jack replied, nodding enthusiastically. He quickly moved to unbuckle my pants and fish my cock out of my jeans as I quickly moved to do the same to him.
I moaned with relief as my hard cock snapped out from the confines of my briefs. The sensation of his rough hands handling my cock was almost too much, causing my hand to shake and falter as I fumbled with the button and zipper of his jeans. To say his manhood was impressive would be an understatement, and I suddenly understood his insistence of needing a bed and more time - at least for our first time together.
His cock was just slightly shorter than Derek's and my owns, but not by much and it was a good deal thicker. In fact, it was so thick that the fingers on the hand I used to hold cock could not touch no matter how tightly I squeezed it. It was fucking beautiful, thick, hard with slightly darker skin than the rest of his body, nestling on a thick, healthy bush of hair. Further, he had the largest, low hanging set of balls I had ever seen.
"Holy shit!" I exclaimed the moment his thick meat flopped out and onto my hand.
`Yeah, I know," he said with a cocky smirk. "I want to open you up properly. I bet your ass'll feel great around my cock. But I want to do it properly, make sure you feel good."
"Yeah," I asked, my breathing going ragged as he started to squeeze my cock harder while jacking me with long, even strokes. I tried to do the same with his thick dick, but the sensation of his hand on my johnson was making my feet weak. One hand wasn't enough to massage it, so I braced my back against the wall and used both hands to stroke his cock.
"I have this lube from Germany, it's fucking great. It'll help slick up your hole without making the skin sticky. I'm going to use these thick fingers of mine to stretch you open," he said, his voice falling down an octave into almost a deep rumble as he moved his body closer to mine, his lips inches from my ear as he whispered his dirty intentions.
He wasn't blindly jacking my cock either. He would occasionally move the palm of his hand to massage the glans of my penis, while his other hand pulled and fondled on my balls. I tried to emulate his movements, trying to share the pleasure he was providing me, but the sheer width of his cock and his massive balls was more than a handful for both of my hands. But he didn't seem to mind at all. A steady stream of precum was leaking out of his cock head, coating my hand and thus his shaft with sufficient lubrication to make my movements smoother.
My head felt hot and flushed as he whispered wonderfully crude things into my ear, his breath tickling my skin. The cubicle was filled with the wonderful mixed scent of his beard oil, cigars, and combined natural musk. It was almost enough to overwhelm even the persistent smell of stale piss in the air. But I hardly cared, my mind filled with the sounds of our combined moans, the filthy words he whispered in my ear, as well as the feel of his hands on my cock and balls. Occasionally he would nip and lick at my neck, sometimes sucking hard to stretch the skin, no doubt leaving a telltale mark.
Distantly I heard the bathroom door squeaking open, but it barely registered my thoughts as it was currently painted by lust. Although he wasn't on top of me, I was all too aware of Jack's massive frame, his presence seemingly filling up the space. It was like I could feel the weight of his body without it actually being on me. I couldn't help but wonder what the rest of his body was like. What it would taste like on my tongue, or if it was as hairy as I imagined it would be. It was Jack's voice that pulled me out of my reverie, and into the erotic reality before me.
"I'm going to stretch you open, get you nice and loose. So when I fuck my cock into you, it'll be like slipping on a nice, warm, familiar glove. You'll feel your ass stretch around my thick cock," he whispered. "I want you to feel the full weight of body as I fuck into you. Imagine, you're on your belly, your ass arched up to meet every single thrust I make as I mount you from behind. I wouldn't need to jack your cock like I'm doing now. Your cock will be hard and leaking just from my fucking into you. You'll love the stretch of your hole as I slowly pull my cock back before fucking it back in. I'm going to make you cum just from me filling you up and breeding you."
"Holy fuck, the mouth on you,"I gasped as his strokes became faster and tighter. My heart was pounding hard in my chest, my arms had now had a slight burn from the sheer effort of working to jack his thick cock. But I didn't care as the sensations going through my body was well worth the effort.
He took my mouth into his, wrestling his tongue against my own. Our lips locked as our tongues wrestled against each other. He moved my hand away from his cock, moved his crotch closer to my hips and put our cocks together. I could feel his hardness against my own, slick from his copious precum. He began to use both of his hands to masturbate our manhoods together, and I found myself thrusting into his grip. We both were panting hard into each other's mouths, his a lower guttural sound that rumbled from his chest. I wrapped my arms around him as he pressed deeper against my body, his grip on our frotting cocks not loosening for one second.
I don't know if I came first, or if he did, but our orgasms were quite close to one another. Deep, shuddering, pleasurable pulses wracked my body as I came on his hands. His grip was further lubricated by his own release, soaking the space between us with a considerable amount of sweat and cum. Jack leaned his forehead against mine, his eyes closed, and a rumble escaped his throat. His grip was still firm on our spent cocks, soaked by our shared orgasm.
He moved hand up and I watched as he brought the cum soaked skin against his mouth and licked. He stared intently into my eyes as he cleaned our shared release on his hand with his tongue. The sight of it was both obscene and so, fucking, hot. He then brought up his other cum soaked hand and presented it to me. Without a second thought, I leaned forward, stuck my tongue out and began cleaning his hand.
I was never a big fan of cum eating, even if it had been something I've done often with Derek. Most of the time it was Derek shooting his orgams directly down my throat as I sucked him off. It had been some time since we had done something like this. The taste of it wasn't unpleasant, mixed with the saltiness of his skin and sweat. Our shared cum had mixed into a thick coating on his skin, but it wasn't as bitter as I thought it would be. I had always thought that smokers would have bitter cum, but that wasn't the case at all. Perhaps because it was mixed with mine and because of the sweat and salt from his skin that the taste had been diluted. But it was more salty than it was bitter. All in all, the act of eating it as he presented it to me was more erotic than the cum itself.
We took a minute to rest quietly in that stall, panting almost in unison, bodies pressed against each other, his breath tickling the skin of my neck. The silence was only broken by the sound of footsteps moving away and the bathroom door squeaking open before snapping shut. The sound pulled both of us out of our reverie and a contented smirk painted his face. I can only imagine the expression on mine.
"I have to go," he announced, jarring me back fully into the reality of where we were and what we had just done.
"Oh yeah, sure," I replied awkwardly, fumbling around to shove my cock back into my pants and to button it back up.
"Not because I want to," he insisted. "But because now I have to go home and get changed before my meeting. Wouldn't be the best idea to show up covered in dried cum."
"Oh right," I replied, sharing in his awkward chuckle.
He wiped his hands on his jacket before stepping back and taking a deep breath, opening the stall door. "Look, I'll call you, alright?"
"Uh, yeah sure," I replied absently, all too aware of the fact that I hadn't given him my number. But I didn't say anything.
"I know your number," he replied, as if he had just read my mind.
"I should be creeped out by that, but I'm just impressed," I replied as the implication of his words crossed my mind. It would be rather hypocritical of me to be offended by someone finding out what my phone number was without having me told them.
"I'm serious. Expect a call, and you'll say yes and we'll get together and do this properly. You have no idea how much I want to feel you under me and watch you squirm as I fuck into you," he said seriously with a deep, husky, voice.
"Wow, okay, yeah," I mumbled out, not really knowing what to say.
"You husband wouldn't mind, right?" He asked with a small title of his head before turning around to wash his hands in the sink.
"No, no, probably not. I'll tell him everything," I said to myself more than as a reply to him.
"Good," he replied before turning back, pulling me into his arms, and kissing me deeply and passionately. He then winked mischievously before walking out of the room.
I wasn't certain what time it was when I made my way back home, my mind completely enveloped by the events that had just occurred. I walked the streets in a bit of a daze, my body still buzzing from what happened back at the bar. So it came as a surprise to find Derek greeting me the moment I walked through the door.
"Hey, what are you doing at home? I thought you were spending the night at Simon's?" I asked as Derek closed the laptop on his lap and put it aside.
"Hey babe," he greeted with a smile as he stood up and welcomed me into his arms, kissing me lightly on the lips and on the cheek. "How was your night?"
"Eventful," I replied honestly. "Seriously, what're you doing at home? I thought you'd be out all night again."
"I guess you never got my messages?" He asked.
"Oh, fuck. That was you? I'm sorry, I haven't looked at my phone all night. What happened?" I asked curiously.
Derek smiled wryly before moving back down to sit on the couch. He looked comfortable, dressed as he usually would when spending a night in. Just in his boxers and an old t-shirt. I sat down next to him before swinging my legs over his lap.
"Well, Simon said it," Derek said with a wince.
"Said what?" I asked, confused.
"`I love you'," he said in a poor impression of the young man.
I winced at his words, "oh shit. What'd you say?"
He exhaled through his teeth with another wince, "I said, `thank you'."
I successfully suppressed a chuckle that threatened to slip through my lips, and instead just nodded seriously. "Well, that was very polite."
"Well, fuck, I didn't know what else to say! It just came out of nowhere!" He exclaimed.
"Yeah, you guys have been fucking each other like rabbits for months. Are you really all that surprised? Not to mention, we got married pretty fucking quickly after we met each other," I pointed out. "Ooh, is this the part where you leave me for a younger man? Like a closed circle, right? I married someone almost half my age, so now you're going to break up with me and do the same? A tale as old as time."
He leveled me with a rather unimpressed stare before leaning forward to grab beer that had been open on the table. He took a quick swig before replying, "yeah, that's not funny. This is serious!"
I couldn't help but laugh at his response. But because of his irritated stare, I put up my hands in surrender. "I'm sorry! But come on, it's adorable. I told you to have a talk with him about this months ago, didn't I? Set up the ground rules. Clarify what this whole thing is."
"Two months Miles. It's only been two months," he pointed out. "And we weren't even together the entire time! I thought I had more time. I thought he kinda understood what we were doing."
"Well, you weren't really fucking anyone else while you were together, right? Unless there are other guys you haven't told me about?" I replied.
"No, not really," he said with a wince.
"See, so you've been spending all this time exclusively with him and you hadn't even had `the talk' to let him know you're not looking for anything serious?" I pointed out, frankly feeling bad for the kid. "You're the mature one in this relationship, you know. I kinda feel like this is more on you than on him."
"Aren't you supposed to be on my side?" he asked with furrowed brows.
"Always, love," I replied honestly. "But he's the twenty year old probably having the best sex of his short life with a fucking stud like you. Like, what did you seriously think was going to happen? I mean, you spend all this time together fucking. You even spend the night with him sometimes, instead of coming home to your husband. Kid didn't stand a chance."
Derek nodded seriously, "yeah, I guess I am pretty fucking hot."
"Yeah, okay, calm the fuck down Narcissus. Don't let it get to your head or anything," I replied sarcastically.
He laughed at my response, leaning his head back and closing his eyes with a prolonged wince. "But you're right. I fucked up. I need to have `the talk' with him. I should've already."
"Yeah, no kidding. What'd you tell him when you left?" I asked.
"Oh, I outright lied. I told him that I had an Accounting test and I needed to go home and study," he said with a shrug. "Yep. At my age, that was the best excuse I could come up with. In hindsight, I'm pretty sure he probably didn't buy that considering he knows my whole schedule."
"Yeah, you just lied to a confident, gay, twenty year old fashion major who loves reality TV." I pointed out before getting to my feet.
"What are the odds that he won't fit the stereotype and not cause a scene?" he asked, seriously.
I stared at him for moment before answering honestly, "yeah, you're fucked. You better get ahead of that before shit hits the fan."
I took off my jacket and grabbed myself a beer from the fridge, leaving Derek to ponder his situation by himself looking serious, brows furrowed in concentration.
"You know, look at us," I said with a smile, injecting a bit of pride in my voice. "I'm proud of us."
"What?" Derek asked, confused.
"Well, you know, talking and sharing. We're having an actual fucking conversation about your sex life outside of our marriage in a mature, and I'd like to think healthy, way." I point out. "You're actually using a lot of words. Full fucking sentences about your emotions and what you feel and think about your other sex partner. See? We're making this work. It's working. I'm a fucking genious, right?"
Derek chuckled to himself before replying, "yeah, and you called me narcissistic. What about you then, huh? Don't think for a second I don't notice the dried cum stains coating your pants. Or the massive hickey on your neck. Not very subtle there. What's the story?"
"Ah, right," I said, feeling the blush spreading across my face. "That's a bit of Jack and a bit of me."
"Who's Jack?" my husband asked, patting the space next to him.
I took a big swig of the beer in my hand before sitting down next to him and started the story from the beginning. I tried to give Derek the same courtesy as he had done to me the past few months. I tried to be as detailed as possible, telling him things that I would except him to tell me about his own sexual adventures. As opposed to what I would have done, Derek spent most of my narration listening quietly, only occasionally letting out a grunt of agreement or encouragement.
By the time I had finished, he had not said a word for some time. His brows were furrowed in deep concentration, staring intently at the empty bottle of beer in his hands. The overwhelming silence was making me nervous. But before I could say anything else, he nodded his head and looked me intently in the eyes.
"Right, bedroom," he said simply, getting up on his feet and pulling me up with him.
"Oh, okay," I replied quickly, going with the flow. "What's going on?"
"I'm going to fuck you, hard," he explained as he took the half drunk bottle of beer in my hand and placed it back on the table. "I'm going to fuck you so hard that you're going to be feeling it tomorrow. Let's go."
Impressed by his sudden declaration, I followed him to our bedroom where he promptly pushed me onto the bed and quickly removed what little clothing he wore. He was eager to remove mine too, throwing each article of clothing I wore over his shoulder without any care about where it landed. Quite frankly, the sudden tension after I relayed my evening was turning me on.
To say that we had one of the best fucks we'd ever had that night would be an understatement. Derek hadn't been this passionate about our lovemaking for quite some time. There was something distinctly erotic about the sense of urgency I felt in his actions as he climbed atop my body on our bed, and caught my lips with his. His kisses seemed deeper and more passionate. His arms wound around my body tightly, pressing our frames together firmly. The feeling of his firm, muscled body atop me was erotic, but unlike the pressure that Jack had exuded at the bar bathroom. But pleasurable nonetheless.
Our sex that night was different from what it had been in the past. It certainly was far less clinical than what I had grown used to. But to tell the truth, my mind kept on wandering back to Jack. As Derek kissed and nipped at the skin of my neck, my chest, down to my belly and to my crotch, I started wondering about what Jack's lips would feel like in those places instead. My eyes were closed, the fantasy playing out in my head and the sensations I felt in reality causing moans to escape my lips. Derek trailed his wet tongue down my navel before quickly capturing my half hard cock in his mouth.
I thought of Jack's thick cock and low hanging balls, and I could feel my cock hardening quickly at the thought. My dick grew in Derek's mouth, quickly becoming slick with his spit. He massaged the shaft with his tongue, firmly grasping the base of my cock with one hand as he started to bob. He milked the tip of my cock with his mouth, making sure to rub his lips across the glans of my penis. The entire time, I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if it were Jack's mouth instead of my husband's.
My hips buckled up, seeking the warmth of Derek's mouth every time he sucked up and hard, my cock almost falling out of his mouth. The wet sounds of his hard, eager suckling reverberated in the empty room that smelled nothing like piss. My breath grew ragged as he suckied hard, expertly avoiding scraping the skin of my cock with his teeth. Derek had never been that eager of a cock sucker, but he certainly seemed eager now.
He only drew back for a quick moment, my cock falling out of his mouth with a wet, obscene pop. He reached over into the bedside drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube we always kept stocked nearby. He expertly wet a few of his fingers and my hole before he dove back down to capture my hard cock in his mouth, while slowly inserting a few of his fingers in my ass. There weren't any concerns about cleaning out, but distantly I couldn't help but be relieved by how regular I was and how relatively decent my diet was to help in the act of bottoming. Derek started to fuck his fingers into me as he continued his sucking. In my mind, I was remembering Jack's erotic description of spreading me open with his thick fingers.
For the life of me at that moment, I couldn't help imagining it was Jack down there, sucking on my cock and spreading me open with his fingers. I imagined his voice whispering those obscene things in my ear while my husband pleasured me from below. I don't know how much time Derek spent sucking me and spreading me open, but I felt it was time well spent. By the time he drew back and lined his hard cock against my hole, I knew that I'd be able to easily take him inside of me.
Derek's cock was thinner than Jack's, if a bit longer. It wasn't thin, mind you, but there was certainly no comparison with the older man. It was still a beautiful cock though, a pink head and lightly flesh coloured skin with a slight curve upwards. He had a thick healthy bush of light brown hair on his crotch and balls. When I felt the tip of his cock in my entrance, the sensation of it slipping inside was familiar and welcome. But I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if it had been Jack's cock instead.
The fantasy of that sensation filled my mind, and I began imagining Jack's frame atop me instead of Derek's. Instead of Derek's lithe, athletic body with a light dusting of hair, I imagined Jack's hairy, barrel chested frame looming above me. I imagined thicker thighs slapping against my ass with every thrust of a thick, beer can thick, darker skinned, cock.
"Oh, fuck!" I exclaimed as the fantasy grew clearer in my mind. I blindly reached up as Derek bent down, catching my hands around his muscular shoulders as he began to pound into me fast and hard. I curled my knees back, legs up in the air, causing my ass to present itself higher as I met every thrust my husband made with my eager hole.
"So fucking warm, so fucking good," Derek whispered between pants of exertion as he fucked into me. His voice almost pulled me out of my reverie. But with very little effort, I jumped right back into the fantasy in my head.
I imagined it was Jack's cock pumping into me. I imagined what it would be like having his thick dick inside of me, pulling and pushing against the skin as he pumped his hips. I imagined it was Jack's cockhead punching my prostate instead of Derek's. I imagined the drips of sweat falling atop me was from Jack's, thick, hairy body instead of my husband's. Derek's grunts and moans were lighter and faster than my imagined Jack's voice, which was a deep, guttural, rumbling sound.
I was on my back, meeting my husband's thrust with my ass, but in my mind, I was on all fours, my ass jutting out as Jack mounted me from behind. I imagined that it would certainly be a site to behold; his large, hairy, frame atop my own. Even though our bodies weren't dissimilar, in my head his was far larger, completely dwarfing my own. I imagined that I would be like a ragdoll, being fucked by a giant bear of a man, being thrown about easily by his sheer strength.
Derek wasn't as verbose as Jack seemed to be in his lovemaking. My husband grunted and panted as he fucked into me, and I couldn't help but wonder about the filthy things Jack would have whispered in his stead. My mind was filled with the imagined words Jack would have whispered in my ear, while in reality the room was filled with the sounds of moaning, groaning, and the slapping sounds of skin on skin. To his credit, Derek maintained an even pace of fucking me while jacking me off as well. His grip was looser than what Jack would have done, but it was just as warm and slick as I imagined Jack's would be.
"I'm going to breed you," Derek suddenly whispered in my ear, and I couldn't help imagining Jack saying those very words to me instead. With a shudder, my body released its orgasm in thin ropes of cum, shooting into the space between our bodies. Shortly after, Derek's pace began to falter and his thrusts became more erratic until he thrusted one last time with a loud moan, emptying his seed into my gullet.
Derek collapsed on top of me, his body sweaty and hot from the exertion. He lightly kissed my neck and cheek before meeting my lips with his. I hugged him tight, relishing in the post-coital glow, enjoying the taste of my husband in my mouth and the feeling of his seed slowly leaking out of my ass.
"Wow," I managed to say after a beat of silence, our bodies still connected. "Was it just me, or were you fucking me like you had something to prove?"
Derek placed soft kisses on my check as he slowly shook his head, "I don't know what you mean."
It wasn't long before we both fell asleep in each other's arms.
The very next day, Derek was moving about with an extra spring in his step, humming to himself as he cooked us breakfast. He seemed quite happy with the events of last night, and I couldn't help but be rather proud of the fact that I managed two full erections and ejaculations without the aid of a magical pill. It probably would be a bit rude to say it out loud, but I was pretty proud of myself. I was apparently as content as my husband was in the kitchen.
I also awoke with a text from an unfamiliar number that was sent last night. I knew it was from Jack. It was brief, to the point, and it certainly helped lift my mood up that morning.
Save this number, it said. Can't stop thinking of you.
"I think I'll go talk to Simon after lunch. Clear things up, you know?" Derek suddenly said while flipping the pancakes. I quickly added a name to the number and saved it in my address book before putting the phone away.
"Good idea. Might be closer to dinner, depending on how long lunch with Sam will go on for." That was the other reason for our shared lighter mood. We had both missed our son and were quite excited about seeing him again after some time.
"Last night was great," he said with a warm smile as he leaned in for a kiss.
"Yeah, it was," I agreed, feeling lighter and more refreshed than I had been in months. "You know I betcha it was that jackass, Thaddaus."
"What?" Derek asked, confused as he laid out the breakfast plates on the counter for us. I quickly sat in one of the stools
"I've told you about him. This douchey PI who made a fuss when I started up my business here." Douchey was an understatement. He was probably far more conspicuous than what a PI should be with his style of acid washed or camo jeans, bomber jacket, and a sleeked back undercut. "That guy gets on my nerves. He has this dumb fucking haircut that he can't be bothered to shave completely bald."
"What kind of name is Thaddaus?" He asked as he soaked his pancake with syrup. "And don't knock guys with shaved heads, they can be hot."
"Well, yeah, I agree with that," I replied as I thought of Jack's bald head. "I think it's German or something? His last name's Vorburger. Regardless, Thaddaus is a douchebag kind of name, that's what."
I stabbed the air with my fork to emphasize my point.
"Was he the one that stole some of your clients when you first started?" He asked.
"Yep, that's the one," I replied. "Douchebag."
"Yep, douchebag." Derek nodded in agreement. "So you think this `Jack' hired him to look into you? That's pretty fucking creepy, love."
"Or flattering," I replied with a shrug. "Or, I'm thinking too much into it. There's a hundred other PI's in this city. What would be the odds of that? Jack seems loaded. He probably has an inhouse PI or something."
"If you say so," he said dubiously. "I think I'll quickly go to the gym after breakfast for a quick workout."
"Good idea," I said. "Who knows, you might find other guys to hook up with in there. I mean, the whole point of this open marriage thing is to explore sex with different partners, right? Not jumping into another relationship."
"I think I'll hold off on picking up any ass for now before I get rid of the one attached to me. I'll be back before lunch and we can head out together," he replied as he shoved a forkful of pancake into his mouth. "Are you ready though?"
I knew what he was asking. We had decided that it was about time to tell Sam about opening up our marriage. We knew it had to be done sometime, and best told by us instead of him finding out another way.
"Yeah, I know. I know," I nodded emphatically, more to shake out the sudden build up of nerves than anything else. "It'll be fine, right? It'll be fine. I mean, he's an adult now. What could go wrong?"
Sam had grown in the few months since we last saw him. It was difficult to compare the scrawny, gangly kid in my memories with the college boy in front of me. He looked as tall as Derek now and filled out his clothes better. He wore one of his signature cartoon graphic tees underneath a plaid button up and cargo shorts.
"You're looking misty eyed there pops," Sam chuckled before stepping forward to hug me. I gladly took him in my arms and hugged him tightly in return.
"Kid, it's crazy how fast you're growing. You gotta stop, you're making me feel even older." I chided him with a smile.
His mess of blonde hair had grown longer, but his face was as smooth as ever. He had beautiful pink lips and faint freckles on his cheek. The corners of his eyes always crinkled when he smiled, and boy did the kid love to smile.
"Can I get in on that?" Derek said with a toothy grin, and Sam gladly obliged him with a tight hug. "He's right though. Clearly someone's eating right. You've been going to a gym or something?"
"Thanks, dad! I have been, a little bit, yeah. It's free for students on campus. And believe it or not, but it's actually a great place to listen to lectures that I've recorded. I'm keeping my body active so I don't accidentally doze off while listening to the particulars of Hegel's dialectical method of argument." He explained as we sat back down at our table.
"Mhm, big words. Much smart," I joked, causing him to laugh.
"I'd be lying if I said I really understood it. But that's why I'm in college right? To constantly be reminded of how ignorant I really am in the grand scheme of things?" He replied with another laugh at himself. "How about you pops? How's business? Regret moving to the big city yet?"
"Hell no," I replied honestly. "It's a damn relief that I actually get interesting cases. Not just cheating spouses all the damn time anymore. How's college life? You found someone yet?"
Sam rolled his eyes at my question, "uh huh, yeah nice try. There isn't anyone. And school's good. All my classes are lower division, so they're pretty easy. Boring, but easy. And no, I haven't decided on a major yet. How about you dad? How's school?"
"School's good," Derek replied as he shifted in his seat uneasily. "Classes are good. Pretty easy so far. The people are good."
"Good," Sam replied with a chuckle as he scanned the menu.
"Listen bud, before we start, we have something to tell you," I said after a quick glance and nod from Derek. I was suddenly quite relieved that we had been seated at a table in the back patio. There were very few people around us, and the closest table was far enough that our conversation probably wouldn't be overheard by casual listeners."
"Okay, that sounds ominous," Sam said awkwardly.
"No, no, no," I insisted. "It's nothing bad. We just wanted to talk about a change that your dad and I decided on recently."
"A change? What change?" Our son asked.
"Oh, shit." Derek suddenly cussed, his eyes suddenly growing wide as he stared at something over my shoulder.
Surprised by what he said, I turned my body and followed his gaze behind me. There, at the front of the restaurant, looking straight at us, was Simon, wearing one of the restaurant's waiter outfits.
"Are you kidding me? He works here?" I asked dryly, leveling Derek with a look of disappointment.
"I didn't know!" Derek declared, earning a confused look on Sam's face as he glanced between us and Simon who was walking towards our direction with a displeased face.
"Alright, guys, what's going on?" Our son asked, confused.
"Shit, shit, shit. I don't really ask about that stuff. And I kinda tune him out sometimes, when he talks, which is often," my husband confessed with a grimace. "I didn't know he worked here."
"Okay, fuck," I replied as I glanced back, gauging Simon's distance from our table. I quickly turned towards our son and talked as quickly as I could manage while being articulate. "Right, um, your dad and I opened up our marriage."
"What!" Sam exclaimed, his face stricken with shock, his whole body snapping forward in his seat.
"It's fine!" I quickly rambled on. "It was a mutual decision. Your dad and I love each other. We talked about it for some time. We're honest about it with each other, we tell each other everything about what's going on. We have limits. We make sure it doesn't get in the way of our relationship and our continued future together."
"Fuck, fuck, he's coming," Derek mumbled, looking away from Simon and leaned towards Sam. "Okay, so, um, I hooked up with that guy."
"What?" Sam asked confused as his head snapped towards Simon who was walking closer with what looked like a manic smile plastered on his face.
"The waiter, who's walking towards us," Derek explained with a grimace. "Your pops knows all about him. I was actually planning on breaking up with him, cause we kinda want different things. Like him and me, not me and your pops. I wouldn't break up with your pops. I was trying to break things off with that guy. I just haven't had the time."
"Okay, what the fuck?" Sam asked, clearly confused. "This is a lot of information to process in under a minute."
"Hi, how can I help you?" Simon asked with a wide, creepy, smile, menus in hand when he finally reached our table. He threw them carelessly on the table before continuing. "My name's Simon, I'll be your waiter this afternoon. And who the fuck are you?"
Simon had asked that question with a chillingly crazed look on his face, causing Sam to startle back in discomfort.
"Uh, Sam?" My son replied as if he were asking a question.
"Um, Simon, Sam. Sam, this is Simon," Derek said with clear discomfort. "Sam's my..."
"Let me guess, your newest boytoy. Not even one fucking day. You couldn't even give me the fucking courtesy of talking to me before moving on," Simon said dryly, interrupting Derek's explanation. He quickly snapped back towards Sam with a maddened look in his eyes. Or they could have just been red from frustration and the tears threatening to burst out. "You know he'll just use you. You'll think it means something, and you tell him you love him, but for some fucking reason he'll come back to this fucking sorry excuse of a husband of his."
"Okay, that's enough," I interrupted.
"Shut the fuck up you goddamn cuck," Simon snapped.
"Whoa!" Sam exclaimed in shock.
"Hey!" Derek snapped back, getting to his feet. His face was enraged, something I had rarely seen in the years I'd known him. "That's enough out of you. You do not talk to him like that. Ever."
"Fuck you," Simon replied breathily, tears starting to stream down his face. Sam just looked shocked and confused about the whole situation.
"Simon, this is Sam," I said evenly after a beat of silence, blushing from the embarrassment of the whole situation. "Our son. Like, our kid. Son - dad - pops. Family dynamic."
Simon's attention snapped to me in surprise, confusion painting his face. "What?"
I looked up at Derek's enraged face, still glowering at Simon who was looking paler and confused by each passing second.
"I thought..." Simon began, his mouth moving despite no words coming out.
"Right, we should... leave," I said awkwardly, moving to my feet. "Sam, why don't we give your dad a second while we wait outside."
"Uh, yeah, okay," Sam replied, the confusion still clear on his face.
"No, we'll go together." Derek said with a shake of his head, following us as we started to move towards the door.
"Wait," Simon began, walking towards Derek, the desperation clear in his voice. But he stopped as soon as Derek turned around and leveled him with an even, displeased look on his face.
"I said, no." Derek replied before quietly ushering us out of the restaurant.