Saving Grapes - Madeline Kirby Page 0,45
pushing them back against the head of his cock before wrapping his hand around Thom’s shaft and stroking it slowly, in rhythm with his own rocking thrusts.
Ben looked over Thom’s shoulder, and could just see the tip of his cock as it emerged from between Thom’s thighs and pushed at his balls. He adjusted his timing so that his hand slid towards the base of Thom’s cock as his own thrust forward, pressing Thom’s sac between his hand and cock. As his hand slid towards the tip, he increased the pressure, tight over the glans as he had seen Thom do when he masturbated.
He must have gotten the pressure just right, if Thom’s reaction was any indication. He started thrusting and grinding back against Ben with more abandon than Ben had previously seen from his quiet lover, sober anyway, then threw his head back against Ben’s shoulder and shuddered to a silent climax. Ben pulled him close, holding Thom’s legs together as he came, coating the back of Thom’s balls with his seed. He looked down to see it dripping down the front of Thom’s leg and groaned.
“We made a mess,” Ben whispered, turning Thom to his back so he could kiss him properly, morning breath be damned. “I’ll be right back.”
Ben was back in a couple of minutes with a warm damp cloth. Thom took the cloth from him and started to wipe himself off.
“I would have done that.”
“I know, but why don’t you go get us some coffee while I clean up?”
“Brilliant!” Ben headed downstairs for coffee and found some donuts that were still edible. Putting everything on a tray, he headed back upstairs for the rare treat of breakfast in bed.
Ben was in the kitchen chopping onions while his father prepped a chicken for roasting and Thom tried not to get in the way. Jon had come over for lunch as he had started doing on Sundays, although given Ben and Thom’s limited cooking skills, he often wound up giving them a cooking lesson. He said he didn’t mind, and Thom knew Ben was enjoying spending time with his father. Thom’s cell phone rang, and he stepped into the mudroom to answer it, straining to hear over the sound of rain hitting the windows.
“Thom,” Chuck’s voice crackled over the iffy connection. “Thom, it’s looking pretty bad… flooding to the north… storms… getting worse.”
“You think it’s going to be like ninety-six?” Thom asked, repeating himself and raising his voice when he heard static on the line.
“Maybe. It’s bad. You okay out there?”
“We’re good. But do you want to send Lorraine and the girls out here to higher ground?”
There was more static, then, “Yes – I’ll send… I’ve got to… in town with the emergency team.”
“What happened in ninety-six?” Ben asked when Thom ended the call.
“Major flooding in the Valley, especially to the north. I was just a kid, but I was big enough to fill sandbags and water bottles. There was a lot of damage. Lorraine and the kids are on their way here in case it floods in town.”
“It won’t flood out here?” Jonathan asked.
“Shouldn’t,” Thom shook his head. “Never has as far as I know.” They all looked at each other as their voices were drowned out by a deafening rumble of thunder. “We might lose power, though. There’s a couple of cots in the basement, if you’ll bring those up. Ben, you know where the linens are. Fill the bathtubs with water, just in case. And any bottles or jugs you find in the kitchen. I’m going out to the shed to get some lanterns and other supplies we might need.”
Ben was upstairs pulling quilts and sheets from the linen closet when he heard the boom and felt the house shake. He dropped everything and ran downstairs, meeting his father in the kitchen.
“What was that?!” Jonathan asked, his eyes wide.
“I don’t know. Lightning strike maybe – where’s Thom?”
“I don’t think he’s come back inside.”
“Shit.” Ben ran outside and down the steps. “Thom! Thom!!”
He ran to the shed, but the door was closed and Thom wasn’t inside. The smells of smoke and ozone were heavy in the air, confirming his suspicion of a lightning strike.
“Ben!” He heard his father calling his name and ran towards the house, seeing Jonathan kneeling over Thom, lying on the grass behind the house where Ben hadn’t been able to see him as he ran past. The strike must have thrown him against the house. Ben’s stomach clenched at