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He sobs and fuck. Jesus, fuck, I thought he was pretty before, but him crying actual tears on my cock is just… Fuck.
I told the kid I loved him. He had been mortified when he'd asked me to say it a few hours ago, and me staring at him like he was crazy hadn't helped. But when he started apologizing and pulling away, I acquiesced.
"I know it's not real. I––you don't have to mean it. Just think of it as a lie. Please? Just tell me a lie, and I'm yours."
He opened his door almost two years ago in the middle of the night and immediately, no questions asked, let me inside.
He’s not going to hire me. Why would he? If he did, I’d genuinely be concerned because what kind of businessman would that make him? Not a good one, that’s for sure.
He just can’t help it that he’s awkward. And I happen to find that part of him endearing.
Cute isn’t an adjective that I use a lot, but I look at him, and I swear I just want to barrel into him, sweep him into my arms, and fucking squeeze. Cute aggression is real, and it’s maddening.
If you don’t see or hear from your gay son, do you actually have a gay son?
Maybe I’m not sorry that I spilled her drink on her stupid shoes, but I am apologetic that I am the way… I am.
She raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow, and I have to remind myself that I’m supposed to feel bad about shoving her.
I’m too small, too ugly for him, too weird, too young. He’s so out of my league it is laughable.
"You fucked an eighteen-year-old you met at a gay bar and then hired him as your employee?" Well, shit. It sounds bad when she says it like that.
"I won't sleep with him." Her features start to relax, so of course, I add a quick "Again," just to remind her that I already have.
"And he's so... Small. How does that work?" Her eyes are dancing with amusement, but I don't find anything funny. "It’s like if Kevin Hart decided to take a ride on The Rock."
I do have a crush on an eighteen-year-old—my employee. Sage.
I wasn’t getting all up in his space and imagining feeding him my dick. No, I had the decency to do that from afar.
every part of me would rather I stay where he is or just grab him and make him come with me. Everywhere. At all times.
I kind of want to hug him, but I don’t think he’d like that. Or maybe he would. He almost always looks like he needs one, especially lately.
He’s so fucking young. Too young, too unsure, too, just everything. I can hardly stand it. My dick doesn’t even know what to do with itself.
Lucas is right. I am sad, but I’m also horny, and only one of those is his fault, so I’m focusing on that.
I manage to shut up when his eyes widen in shock. Yeah, well, I wasn’t aware I was gonna say that either, Lucas.
I shoot him a look like he’s stupid because that's how he’s acting right now.
I see his eyes coast down my torso, and when his brow kicks up, I know he’s spotted my erection. Having a penis is the worst. It’s so obvious with its needs.
I’m a whiny, slutty, and totally deranged mess, and it’s all his fault, so he better be ready to handle it.
"Poor baby. Just needed this little hole filled, huh?"
I snort, a sated smile pulling at my cheeks because I was not at all sweet. I went a little crazy, but he’s kind of perfect himself for pretending otherwise.
"Why do you even have lube here, you perv?" I look over my shoulder, trying to see what brand it is, but can’t quite see it. "This is a place of work." He lets out a throaty laugh, and I sit up to watch him. I love it when he smiles. It looks so good on him.
Even before they knew I was gay, I didn’t really fit in with them. Mom reading my journal and dragging me out of the closet was just the last straw.
You don’t become the kind of person who goes to gay bars to find a stranger just to ask him to tell you he loves you without getting acquainted with the feeling of being unloved.
I just want someone to want me. To want to keep me. To be sad when I disappear, not relieved.
"Yeah, okay. I can do that, but you should know that I don’t really have anywhere to run this time around, so don’t let me staying go to your head too much."
the very last thing I want to be to Lucas of all people, but to anyone at all really, is a burden.
I can’t do casual, I’ve decided. I’m just not built that way, but he’s older than me and owns a business. He’s like a real-life adult. I just can’t see him choosing me or wanting me for anything more than I’ve already given him.
"Son," Marcos cuts in, and it’s only then that I recognize the guy as Marcos’s kid. Pfft. Romeo. "Ah, you met the redhead." He gives the room a shit-eating grin, and I swear to God, I’ll fire him if he doesn’t cut it out.
"I need," but he only shakes his head again. "Please lie to me. One more time, please."
I don’t mind telling him that I love him, lying to him. Mostly because I’m not all that sure that it is a lie.
He says something about going to his room so we can be in his bed, but I’m too comfortable. "My bed," I mumble, disagreeing with him because I don’t feel like getting up, but he misunderstands me. "It is your bed. You should always be in our bed. Come on."
"I love you," he murmurs just as his fingers are prodding at my entrance. "Nobody ever has," I whimper, my hips giving just the barest jerk as he sinks inside me.
"We should, you should always be in me. Just fuck me full of come and plug me up so it stays in me."
He’s mumbling half-thought-out worships about my big dick but also just about me. Total bullshit about how I’m perfect and beautiful, how he swears nobody else even exists for him. Like, maybe I’m not the only one obsessed in this relationship.
Who gives a fuck about morning breath when we both just ate come directly out of his asshole, right?
"Hey yourself. You never texted me." "Oh." I wish he’d said literally anything else. "I’m sorry. I’ve just been busy." And Lucas threw away your phone number. I don’t tell him that, though.
Him calling my house home is my reason for existing in this moment.
"Baby," I warn. "Don’t fucking do it." He ignores me. "Stop moaning! We’ll be home in like––" He, of course, moans louder, and when I manage another look, he’s got his fingers buried in that impossibly needy hole of his. "What a fucking nympho."
the guy is literally finger fucking himself on I-10.

