Goldilocks: A Man, a Jersey, and a Tight End (26 page)

“Freddie?” The fear there stopped Freddie cold. It always came to this. Joshua looking so frightened whenever Freddie approached this Holy Grail.

He’d been pulling back, holding back really, that twelve-horse chariot for weeks now. What if Joshua didn’t like it? Didn’t want it? He was fairly certain the young man had never done such a thing. What if the act hurt him, disgusted him?

“Freddie, did I do something wrong?” asked Joshua. And Freddie remembered Paul’s words.

“I want to…” Freddie breathed slowly. “Joshua, will you let me…” He let his fingers slide down into Joshua’s crack, between those perfect white cheeks, lightly touch Joshua’s hole. “Here?”

“Do you want to?” asked Joshua worriedly.

What if the boy would let him do it whether he, himself, wanted it or not? Freddie studied Joshua. “I trust you,” he said. “I know you’ll tell me if I hurt you or do something you don’t like.”

Joshua looked up at him.

“You will, won’t you, Joshua?”

“Yes, Sir,” said Joshua.

“We’ll need lube,” said Freddie. “A lot of it. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I have some,” said Joshua, blushing furiously. And Freddie was almost dizzy to see that the flush extended up the inside of Joshua’s thighs as Joshua hopped off the bed and went to the dresser.

Freddie was trying to control his own body’s reaction to the show when Joshua tossed a huge tube of Astroglide down on the bed. “Scott gave it to me,” he said.

“He would.” Freddie grinned. “Lie down again, Joshua?”

He took his time. Joshua gasped when Freddie’s fingers penetrated him farther than they ever had. He tightened up a little when Freddie worked in a third. “You okay?” asked Freddie.

“Yes, Freddie.”

God
. Freddie kept up the slow massage, getting about half of the tube of lube worked into Joshua before he finally dared sheath his cock and set the head at the oiled entrance.

Slowly, he pushed in. Joshua’s head went down, but he urged Freddie to continue and even when Joshua moaned a bit, fingers grasping the sheets near his face, Freddie trusted his partner to tell him if it was too much and inexorably worked his way in until he was there, and he hovered over Joshua, supporting himself on his elbows. He whispered, “I’m all the way inside you, sweetheart. Are you all right?”

“Freddie…” Joshua’s eyes were closed, his face flushed, his hands clenched.

“Baby. I’m not hurting you?” The pressure in his balls was intense. Freddie longed to move.

Joshua shook his head. “No,” he squeaked. “Freddie…please…”

“What, Joshua?” Freddie kissed Joshua’s ear, his breathing becoming loud even to himself.

“Do it,” whispered Joshua. “Please. Freddie. Do it.”

Groaning, Freddie let his body take over and slid in and out, building up speed. Joshua gasped and cried out beneath him, but all of the sounds were joyful ones, and then Joshua clenched around him, reaching blindly to find Freddie’s hand and grip it tightly. Freddie couldn’t stop his body, couldn’t stop pistoning in and out, the feeling so marvelous he didn’t want it to end. And when it did end, when he could hear again, his own voice crying out, and he finally lay, still shaking with lust, his cock throbbing and encased in his lover’s tight heat, he still, somehow, didn’t want this feeling to ever end.

“That was amazing,” whispered Joshua.

Freddie pulled out carefully, rolled Joshua over, gathered him up, and held him as close as he could. He kissed Joshua’s ear. “Was that so terrible?”

“Terrible?” Joshua opened an eye a crack. “No, that was wonderful.”

“I was afraid you only did it to please me,” admitted Freddie.

“You were?” said Joshua wonderingly. “I thought you didn’t want me.”

“Oh, my God,” said Freddie fervently. “I’m dying of wanting you, Joshua. All the time.”

Joshua looked completely amazed. “Oh.”

“You should have told me you were worried,” said Freddie. “And I should have trusted you to say no. I will in the future.”

“I know. It’s just…sometimes, I’m afraid to tell you,” said Joshua sadly. “I try not to be.”

“It takes time,” said Freddie. “And I understand. But you must tell me these worries of yours, Joshua. Whatever they are. Will you do that?”

“Yes, Freddie.”

“Whatever you tell me, it won’t stop me loving you,” said Freddie. And then he heard himself.

And that was when he knew what had been ailing him.

Joshua looked shaken, and Freddie knew exactly how Joshua felt, but still he bent and kissed Joshua and said it again. “I love you.”

* * * *

“Another grape?” said Brian. He sat on Paul’s thighs on their bed in his collar and little slave skirt, decorating Paul’s erect and swollen cock with a fruit salad.

Paul lay there with the expression of a man indulging a beloved child temporarily. “These sheets are going to be a mess,” he said.

“Spoilsport.” Brian pouted. And he laughed at the expression on Paul’s face. If he weren’t sitting on his daddy’s legs and if Paul weren’t inclined to put up with just about anything at the moment, he figured he would have gotten a good swat for that remark.

He leaned over and nibbled some of the fruit, being sure to come into accidental contact with Paul’s cock every nibble or so. A rumbling noise came from Paul’s chest, and when Brian looked up, he had a second of looking into the eyes of a predator, and then he was flat on his back, ankles up and over Paul’s shoulders, fruit squishing between them.

Poised there, Paul’s cock sat just at Brian’s entrance but not penetrating. Brian was pinioned, and Paul had hold of both of his wrists. “You’ll help Jim with the laundry,” Paul said.

“I will?”

Paul smiled. He didn’t move. Brian wriggled, trying to get a little more of what he wanted to sink in just a little, but he was helplessly immobile. Brian glared up at Paul. Paul merely met that glare with a cool, unbearably self-assured gaze.

Ah, heck, why not accept defeat
? Brian sighed as best he could in his squished position. “Yes, Sir. Aaaah!” Talk about instantaneous feedback. Paul slid straight home, pushing Brian into the mattress.

Oh, that felt good. Brian moaned and Paul slid back out, hovering just there again. “So,” he said, “what made you and Scott think of this little idea?”

“Me and Scott? Why do you think it was a me-and-Scott plan?” Brian wriggled. And why wasn’t Paul fucking him as he so obviously ought to be doing?

Paul just smiled down at him with that ridiculous toplike arrogance.

Man
. “We thought it would be fun. We wanted to help Joshua,” Brian said, hoping somehow to make himself look like the bringer of light and love he surely was and realizing only belatedly that it sounded more like meddling.

Paul slid in and out a couple of times, though, and Brian was just beginning to feel things looking up, so to speak, when Paul just stopped again.

“What are you doing?” said Brian through gritted teeth.

“Why, honey, I thought you knew what we were doing.”

“Well, we’re supposed to be fucking,” spat Brian from the ridiculous position of bent-in-half bottom boy. “But somebody keeps forgetting.”

“Tell me about helping Joshua,” said Paul.

Brian tried to harrumph but found that impossible currently. He settled for a look of righteous indignation. Paul continued with the imperturbable look that was even more annoying because it gave the impression that he wasn’t as utterly desperate as was Brian.

But Brian
was
utterly desperate, wasn’t he? “Scott said Joshua and Freddie haven’t,
you know
, so we thought we’d help them.”

Uh-oh
. Even as he said it, Brian knew that his chances of getting fucked in the next half hour had just gone from fifty-fifty to about nil. Sure enough, Paul completely withdrew, sat up, and before Brian could say topsy-turvy, he was facedown on an inked lap.

“Brian, we’ve talked about gossip and meddling, haven’t we?”

Brian was still hard. He could feel Paul pressing against him. “This is ridiculous,” said Brian.

Smack.

Brian hadn’t deserved a real spanking in a long time. He yelped with surprise at the sting.

“Haven’t we?”

Brian moved uncomfortably, trying to get his prick just there against Paul’s thigh.

Smack.

“Hey!” said Brian. “I was still thinking.”

Paul’s hand just lay on his stinging butt. And he said very calmly. “It may seem like innocent fun Brian, but people can be hurt by it.”

“I’d never do anything to hurt Joshua,” protested Brian.

“That’s the problem with it. It may seem to begin with the best of intentions, but it’s still meddling with other people’s lives, and it’s wrong.”

When Paul was right, dang it, he was right. Brian sighed. “Yes, Sir.”

“We’ve talked about this many times, Brian. You know the issues. You know the consequences.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Brian gave up and hung onto the bed and Paul’s leg. He flinched at the first few and was fighting the need to cry by the end. It had been so long since Brian had needed a spanking, he’d forgotten what a relief it was when it was finally over, when Paul was holding him and he knew he was forgiven.

“Hon?” said Paul after a long while.

“Yes, Daddy?” sighed Brian from where he was cradled against Paul’s neck.

“Are you too sore now?”

Brian smiled. “No, Daddy. I mean, Master.”

Paul chuckled. “Guess I’d better put you on your knees this time.”

“Yes, please.”

* * * *

There was whipped cream in his beard and cantaloupe juice down his thighs, and Scott was sobbing and begging for
more
and
harder
when Jim started thinking.

He stopped moving.

“Oh, God. Oh, Jim, Lord, why are you stopping?” said Scott, looking around behind himself where Jim knelt with both hands on his rucked-up slave skirt and his cock half-in and half-out.

“Did I see Joshua in a toga?” asked Jim.

“Huh?”

“When I came in.” Jim, looking puzzled, gazed around the room as if seeing it for the first time. “And where’s the table?”

“Against the window, Jim. Lord, man, I’m dying here.”

Absently, and really, thought Scott, not putting a lot of heart into it, Jim began rocking in and out.

Okay, well then, that was all right, right there, and again. Scott bowed his head and moaned.

“But I know I saw Joshua,” said Jim. And he stopped. And
pulled out
. And stood up.

Scott whimpered. He put his head right down on his hands and made a sound like a puppy left out in the yard.

“Scott? Why was Joshua dressed up like a slave boy?”

“He didn’t want to be left out,” said Scott. Okay, it wasn’t exactly the
truth
, but it wasn’t exactly
not
the truth.

Jim stood there, hands on his hips, and looked down upon Scott in a way that made him cringe. “That doesn’t sound like Joshua.”

“We thought he might think it was fun.”

“
We
? Who is this
we
?” asked Jim. Like he couldn’t guess.

Scott sighed. He sat up, brushing foodstuffs off his body and skirt. “Brian and I,” he admitted.

“Scott, I’ve told you to leave Joshua alone.”

“I was…”

Jim pointed to the bedroom. Scott tried one more pathetic, eyelash-blinking pleading look, but Jim was intractable.

Scott rolled to his feet and trudged into their room.

“How long?” he said as Jim tightened the straps.

“You haven’t told me everything,” said Jim.

“You can’t keep me tied up indefinitely!” said Scott.

“Can’t I?” And the son of a bitch walked out of the room.

* * * *

“And that’s all we did,” said Brian. “I really didn’t think it was a bad idea, Jim.”

Jim pulled meditatively at his beard.

“And the toga thing was
my
idea, not Scott’s. Paul reminded me about meddling and gossip,” said Brian ruefully. “I do have a problem with it.”

“You don’t always know what’s best for people,” said Jim.

“
You
do,” said Brian.

Jim looked at him in honest surprise. Then he looked up at Paul, who stood leaning in the doorway with an equal look of astonishment on his face.

“The difference is, I hope,” said Paul, “that we know when people need to let themselves know what’s best for them.”

Brian’s eyebrows did a
he’s crazy
twist on his forehead. “Huh?”

“That didn’t even make sense to me, Paul,” said Jim.

“Me neither,” said Freddie from the hall doorway. “Even though I think I agree with him.”

Freddie looked, Paul thought, like a man who had had all his engine parts oiled and cleaned. “Joshua says thank you to Brian and Scott. Though I would have preferred he’d found a way to talk to me in his own time.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“He looks up to you,” said Freddie.

Brian cringed. “I know, Sir.”

Freddie looked around. “Where
is
Scott?”

“He’s waiting,” said Jim. He waved toward a baby monitor that sat on the kitchen counter. Jim used the monitor to keep an ear on Scott when he was bound and out of earshot. Jim pushed back his chair. “And now I should go take care of him.”

“It was
my
idea,” said Brian.

“Thank you, Brian,” said Jim. “But that’s not the issue.”

* * * *

Scott still lay supine, arms and legs spread and bound, counting the dots on the ceiling. He’d lain in this position so many times he almost felt like he
knew
some of those dots. Personally.

Jim came strolling in. Scott still felt hopeful until Jim closed the door. Then he just closed his eyes in grimly fatalistic acceptance. Well, fine. He’d just lie here and take it like a man.

Jim sat in his beanbag chair. He was silent for a long time. Sometimes, when Scott had really messed up, Jim would sit there and wait until Scott couldn’t stand it anymore and would just start babbling confessions. Well, it wasn’t going to work this time. Scott clenched his jaw.

Jim sighed. “This is troubling me,” he said. And then he said nothing else.