Page 11 of Ever After

“What’s the matter?” I slur.

He snorts again, his eyes wet with laughter. “There’s something terrible on the bed,” he says, getting so close to my face that he makes my eyes cross.

“What is it?”

“Look and see.” He sits back. “It’s dreadful.”

I sit up and for a second, all see is red. “Oh my god, someone’s been murdered,” I groan, covering my eyes and poking myself in one of them.

“Only if they were saying it with flowers,” he replies. “Look.”

Rubbing the tears from my eye, I look again and the red resolves itself into hundreds of rose petals scattered over the duvet. I can smell their sweet scent where our bodies crushed them. “Who did that?”

He shrugs. “At a guess, I’d say it was Rosalind.”

“Thank you,” I call. “Sorry for thinking it was a murder.”

It gets very cold and a few doors downstairs bang. I blanch when I recall my words. “Erm, sorry for being very tactless too,” I shout. “So sorry.”

The warmth returns slowly and I turn back to Blue only to find him laughing silently apart from a slight wheeze. “Well, I’m glad you find me funny,” I say sulkily.

He wipes his eyes and crawls closer to me. “Where were we?”

“You just missed obliterating my cock with your elbow, and I insulted a murderous ghost.”

“I hope I didn’t do damage to your cock. I need its participation tonight.”

I regard him blearily. “I can get it up,” I inform him and pause. “I just might not be able to keep it up.”

He snorts. “You old charmer, you.” He strips off our briefs, and I swallow hard as he shoves me back down on the floor. “Let me give you a little show,” he purrs. “Some inspiration for your dick.”

“That would be a very useful thing to do,” I say honestly.

He straddles me and I groan when I feel the soft weight of his balls against my stomach. He grins down at me. “Like that, do you?”

“I’d like it more if you moved a couple of inches downward.”

He snorts and bends to kiss me. The kiss immediately gets heated and my world narrows down to the slick strength of his tongue in my mouth, the taste of his spit, and the feel of the sweat blooming on our skin.

I cup his arse, lifting him and setting him down so our cocks rub together.

“Fuck,” I breathe, squeezing my eyes shut as he starts to undulate against me. I can feel our precome greasing the slide, and I tighten my grip on his bum, grinding up into him.

He pulls away, and I groan. “No, come back.”

“Just need the lube,” he gasps, wriggling up my torso and reaching for the bedside drawer. “Shit,” he groans as I take his cock into my mouth. I suckle on the head, tasting the salty precome and inhaling the scent of him on his pubes. He watches me for a long few seconds, his cheeks cherry-red and his eyes fascinated. I suck harder, hollowing my mouth, and he jolts like he’s been electrocuted.

He fumbles for the drawer, pulling at it frantically when it sticks. Too frantic as it turns out, because the drawer comes out of the housing and falls on us.

“Ouch,” I say sadly as it hits me on the head.

“Sorry, sorry,” he mutters, patting my hair. “Let me find the lube.”

This strikes me as funny and I start to laugh, and then I can’t stop. He watches me, his eyes twinkling as he pours lube onto his fingers and rubs them together to warm them.

Then I choke on my spit as he turns around. He’s facing away now and I have a view of his narrow hips and full arse.

“He’s not doing too bad for belonging to a drunk person,” he observes my now-interested cock chattily, reaching back to run a finger over his hole.