Tymber Dalton - Contractual Obligation

Tate sat up with a pleased grin. “And that, my dear, is how you give a blow job.”

Doug had never gone down on a guy before. They moved to his bedroom, and Tate obviously took great joy instructing him in the finer points of fellatio.

When they had both recovered, Tate pushed Doug onto his back and buried his face between his ass cheeks, giving Doug his first rimming. He’d thought the blow job was great, but that proved no comparison to the feel of Tate’s tongue probing and exploring his virgin hole. Then Tate wet a finger and gently pressed it against his tight ring of muscle while he sucked Doug’s balls into his mouth. Doug moaned, his cock painfully throbbing again, straining to explode.

Tate wrapped one hand around the base of Doug’s cock and held on tight, helping Doug hold back his climax. “Not yet,” Tate muttered. “Not until my cock’s inside you.”

“Do it, please!”

“You have lube?”

Doug pointed at the bedside table and moaned with disappointment when Tate got up. He quickly returned with a condom and the bottle of lube. “Roll over.”

He did, and Tate playfully slapped his ass. “I can’t believe I get to be the first to tap this.” Doug felt cool lube drizzle down the crack of his ass. Then the feel of Tate’s fingers as he rubbed it in. A moment later, he felt Tate’s cock pressed against him.

“Breathe out, baby. I’ll take it slow. Relax.”

It felt uncomfortable at first, and he almost asked Tate to stop. Then Tate reached around him and played with his cock. Suddenly, he felt himself loosen up, and Tate’s cock slid all the way home.

His cock exploded in Tate’s hand, covering him with his juices.

Tate laughed and slapped him on the ass again. “My, my, aren’t we anxious. I can’t wait until you’re recovered and can fuck me good and properly.” He grabbed Doug’s hips and thrust. “I like it when a guy takes charge.”

Doug moaned as the feeling of Tate’s cock bumping against his prostate triggered yet another erection. Holy crap, he’d never felt this horny in his entire life!

“Get ready,” Tate gasped. The sound of their fucking filled the room. Doug loved the warm, musky scent of their sex mixing together. Tate’s fingers dug into Doug’s hips and he slammed home one final time.

Doug felt Tate’s cock swell and throb inside him as the other man grunted, “Fuck, yes!”

They collapsed onto the bed together, exhausted.

After they recovered and grabbed a shower, they ended up in bed again, with Doug on top this time. He didn’t need much coaching to slide his condom-clad cock inside Tate’s ass.

He had to stop once he was all the way in. He’d never felt anything as good as Tate’s tight channel gripping his cock. Even the earlier blow job paled in comparison.

Tate’s fists balled the sheets. “Fuck me, baby. Please!”

Doug took a couple of deep breaths to regain control. “I will. Hold on. I don’t want to blow.”

Tate tried to arch back against him, and Doug slapped his ass with more than a little warning sting. “I said hold still.”

Tate whimpered, but complied.

Something inside Doug came alive. “Did you like that, baby?”

“Yes!” he gasped into the pillow.

He smacked Tate’s other ass cheek. “You really do like it when I take control like this, don’t you?”

Tate squirmed against him. “Fuck, yes!”

Doug grinned as he spanked Tate. As the man’s ass cheeks turned red, Doug felt his own cock throbbing, rock hard. He leaned forward, buried his hand in Tate’s blond hair, and yanked his head back. “This ass belongs to me, do you hear me?”

“Yes! Please, fuck me!”

Doug slowly withdrew before slamming his cock home again. “I’ll fuck you all night long, baby.” He smacked Tate’s ass with his free hand. “Tell me who owns this ass.”

“You do!”

“That’s right.” Smack!

It only took three more strokes for Tate to come like that. Doug let go of his hair, dug his fingers into Tate’s hips, and fucked him as hard as he could.

Tate happily moaned. “Yeeesss!”

Doug let out a cry as his climax felt like it would rip his cock right off his body. It started deep inside his balls, bigger than any he could remember, swelling and bursting from him and taking the strength from his muscles.

Sweaty and spent, he collapsed on top of Tate. They rolled to their sides, and Tate clutched Doug’s arm around his chest.

“I think I love you,” Tate mumbled.

Doug kissed the back of Tate’s neck. “Me, too.”

In his bedroom at his parents’ house, Doug took a deep breath as he quietly came. Masturbating to memories of their first weekend together never failed to get him over the edge.

He just hoped that would be enough to sustain him after he lost Tate.

On Saturday, Doug waited until midmorning to call Tate. Tate liked to sleep late on the weekends since he had to get up early during the week.

His heart pounded when Tate answered with a sleepy-sounding, “Hello, handsome. Long time, no talk.”

“Hey. Sorry, it’s been a wild couple of days.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” He heard Tate yawn. “So, tell me about the new job.”

Doug didn’t want to. It meant another step on the road to saying good-bye to the man he loved. “I want to hear about yours, first.”

Tate laughed. “No, you don’t. Same job basically, only now I’m taking over Jenny’s supervisor duties, and she’s being promoted to take over for someone else who’s leaving. Come on, tell me.”

“Well, I’m training to take over for the assistant to the company’s CEO.”

“What company?”

“Wells Technology. Aerospace stuff. Her assistant is retiring.”

“Wow. That sounds like big bucks.”

“It is.” He resisted the urge to clear his throat. “The bad part is, I’m going to be working really long, crazy hours and travelling a lot. Especially at first.”

“Ah.” Tate fell silent.

“You okay?” Doug’s stomach twisted into a painful knot.

“How’s Mom?” he finally asked.

Doug took the out. “She’s aggravated the doctors won’t let her do more right now. She needs to let her foot heal first.”

An awkward silence descended. Tate finally broke it. “Let me guess. You’re trying to tell me I shouldn’t move down right now.”

Dammit. He wanted to deny it, but he couldn’t. “Well, we weren’t expecting you to get that promotion. I’d really hate to pull you from that. And after a couple of months, once I’m settled in my job, we can figure something out.”

“Ah.” More silence. “So when do I get to see you again?”

Doug closed his eyes. “I’ll be up next weekend.”

“Okay. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” More than you’ll ever know.

“Life’s going to get pretty crazy for a while, isn’t it?” Tate asked.

“Yeah. Looks like it.”

“Okay.” Tate’s silence told Doug more than he wanted to know. “I’ll let you go. I need to get up and get moving. I’m supposed to meet Bill and Kevin at noon to help them move.”

“Okay. Love you.”

“I love you, too, buddy.”

Doug stared at the phone in his hand, tears running down his face. Tate wasn’t an idiot. He cursed himself for being a coward.

Next weekend, he promised himself. I’ll do it next weekend.

He just hoped he could do it.

“Seriously, Dad, you realize I’m not an invalid, right?” Harper griped as her father refused to let her help unload the truck. They’d stopped for groceries in Englewood before heading across the toll bridge to Gasparilla Island. Once the truck was unloaded, they’d most likely only use the golf cart he kept for toddling around the small town of Boca Grande.

“I gave you a job to do, sweetie. Go turn the A/C down cooler in the house and mix me up one of your great virgin margaritas.”

She rolled her eyes as she grabbed her keys and purse and headed up the stairs. It wouldn’t do any good to argue with him. The Boca Grande house sat perched on twelve-foot concrete pilings due to local building codes against tidal surge flooding should a storm hit the island. She felt badly that her dad would make several trips back and forth up the stairs when she was perfectly capable of toting her fair share.

She unlocked the door, turned off the alarm, and headed immediately to the thermostat to turn the air down. By the time her dad made it upstairs with the second load of bags, she already had the blender full of ice and her own special margarita recipe. When he finished unloading, they sat out on the screened lanai with the ceiling fans lazily stirring the cool evening sea breeze. The sun slowly sank into the Gulf of Mexico, painting the sky in vivid oranges, reds, and purples as it dipped below the horizon.

“Red sky at night,” he said as he sipped his drink. “That’s a good sign, sweetie.”

She smiled. “Sure, Daddy. It’s a good sign.”

“No, really, it is. You know the old saying. ‘Red sky at night, sailors’ delight.’” He pointed down, toward the canal, where his twenty-four-foot Carolina Skiff hung from davits under a covered dock. “I had George come over this afternoon and crank the boat, make sure everything was okay. He said we’re ready for tomorrow. Just need gas, ice, and bait.”