Christmas Tales - Brandon Witt Page 0,37

something?”

I was relieved when he didn’t press the issue of me taking time to shower. He probably wanted me clean too. “Yeah, a beer would be great. I’ll keep watching your teddy bears. And you’ve got enough collectibles to keep me entertained for a while.”

Collectables. Not toys. That was nice of him.

* * *

Showering was a little surreal. Which I didn’t even realize could be said about a shower. What I was getting clean for, who I was getting clean for…. Was this really my life?

Drying off, I glanced in the mirror. I almost expected to see someone else looking back. I didn’t, unfortunately. It was still me. Fat, pasty, hairy me.

Damn it.

I started to put my clothes back on so I could get James to the dark bedroom before he realized what he’d initiated. Instead, in an act of atypical daring, I wrapped the towel around my waist and stepped out of the bathroom. If he was going to run away, might as well get it over with.

He didn’t look at me as I walked into the room. He was inspecting one of my resin statues. “This mermaid is really unusual. My grandkids would love your place. Spike and Angel, all of these….” His words fell away as he looked over at me. “Wow.” He straightened to his full height. “Uhm, can we forget that I just mentioned my grandkids right now?”

I laughed but stopped abruptly at the sound. I’d not expected to be the one laughing in this situation. “Yeah, let’s ignore that comment.” He wasn’t like any grandfather I’d ever seen.

As he stepped closer, I realized I was sweating again. Already. He made a sound deep in his throat. A mix between a groan and a growl. “Hmmm, Brian, this was a good, good idea.” He reached out and ran a hand over my chest. “I was hoping you’d be hairy.”

His touch was enough to make me start to harden, but not enough to shut off my brain, it seemed. “Are you a chubby chaser or something?” Even if he said yes, I wasn’t going to turn him down. I hated that. But I’d deal with it to be with him for an hour or so.

James flinched and dropped his hand away, making me hate my inability to keep my fucking mouth shut. “No. Not at all. Why would you think that?”

Maybe he was blind. I glanced down at myself, then back at him. “You really have to ask that?”

For a split second, I saw pity in his eyes. I would’ve given anything to run back to the bathroom and throw on my clothes again. The look vanished into lust, I think. Maybe it was forced, maybe it wasn’t.

“Brian, I’m not a chubby chaser, but I like my men to look like men. I want them thick, hairy.” He touched me again, cupping the side of my belly with his left hand, sweeping his right along my beard. “With a face like yours, green eyes like yours, a mouth like yours.” He lowered his head, brushing my lips with his and then only pulling back slightly. He dropped his hand from my belly, gave a light tug at the towel, which fell away, and then wrapped his hand around my now fully erect cock. He groaned again. “And with a fat cock like yours, apparently.” It was obvious he’d used the F-word intentionally. I’d never liked the sound of it until that moment.

Before I could fully take in his words or figure out how to respond, James was on his knees, taking my dick into his mouth.

It almost ripped me in half. The wet heat of him around my cock, the feel of him nearly pulling an orgasm from me with the first touch. The sight of him, his huge, muscled body still clothed as he knelt before me, moving one hand up and over my belly and chest, squeezing my ass with the other.

I was the one who did that. I serviced. I didn’t get served.

As he moved over my dick, he swept his tongue up the underside, making me cry out. “James. Stop. Stop.”

He pulled back and looked up at me. The sight of his tilted-up face, beautiful lips, saliva running from the corner of his mouth into his beard, was an image I could use for a thousand orgasms to come.

“You’ve gotta stop. I’m about to come.” It had been a twenty-second blowjob, and I was about to cream like it was my first