Saddled, chapter 28 (Patreon)

I have been stuck in editing hell for the last two weeks, so I wrote another chapter. I do prefer writing to editing, and I love these two stubborn bastards, so here you go...

The news signed off and John crooked his leg up so he could scratch the bottom of his foot. 

“I could show you a guest room,” Clive said. It was the first time he’d spoken since the baseball game ended. 

John sighed. Clive’s head and his ass were still communing. “Or we could share a bed.”

Clive went utterly still. “I suspect you’re not as submissive in a bedroom as you are in the stables.”

“I’m not that submissive in the stables.”

Clive gave him a wry smile. “That is one of your more attractive qualities. However, in a bedroom, I find that most men expect someone reciprocal. I’m not… good… at that.”

That confused John because during the one weekend they’d spent together, Clive had been oddly focused on making sure John came. “So, you don’t want me to orgasm in your bed?” he asked.

“What? No. No, I don’t like anal sex. You wouldn’t ever be able to top me.”

“You aren’t topping me outside the stables, so we’re even,” John said. “But I assume gay men can do other things. God knows the longest relationship I ever had was with my right hand.  We had a good run, although I might have cheated on it with my left once or twice.”

“If you can do anything approaching a relationship with your left hand, I’m impressed.”

“It was a short and unsatifying affair, but I had stitches in my right hand at the time.”

“Fishing accident?” Clive guessed.

“Home improvement accident. I’m not actually any good with a hammer. Or a caulk gun or broken glass.”

“Another point we have in common,” Clive said, and then he fell silent again.

“If you don’t want me in your bed, tell me,” John said.

“We’re off the contract.” That wasn’t an answer either way, and considering the kinky and borderline abusive shit he put on the contract, John found his concern ironic.

“In case you didn’t notice, we’ve been off the contract for a while now.”

Clive snorted. “I would like you in my bed, but I don’t know…”

“Would you like to call the psychiatrist who evaluated me?” John asked dryly.

“I would say yes, but I’m thinking you might hit me,” Clive answered.

“Just fucking ask me if I’m fine sharing a bed without anyone sticking a dick into an asshole.”

“Well, when you make it sound that romantic, how can I resist?”

John crossed his arms over his chest. Given the way Clive distracted and double talked, he was surprised the man wasn’t a lawyer.

Clive sighed. “Do you want to share a bed? Not will you or are you willing to go off the contract, but do you want to?”

“Yes,” John said. After a night of watching sports and complaining about certain people and their inability to rebound a ball, John realized he was comfortable here. Even outside of their sexual connection, he felt safe taking his shoes off and watching television.

“Okay, then.” Clive leaped to his feet like he’d spotted an intruder. “We should go to bed.” Given the way he power walked to the stairs, John assumed he wasn’t feeling as comfortable. In the stables, Clive was always one step ahead, and according to Logan, he was the same at work. However, this Clive was nervous in ways that surprised John. Hopefully this wasn’t more irrational guilt.

John headed up the stairs in his bare feet. When he’d searched for Clive, he’d found the master bedroom, so he assumed Clive had gone that way.  When he turned the corner, he saw the double doors at the end of the hall standing open and light spilling out. However, when John reached the door, Clive wasn’t in the bedroom. 

“You here?”

“In the bathroom,” Clive called. “I have pajamas in the long dresser if you’d like a pair. Lower drawer, right side.”

John took his clothes off and draped them over a chair and sat on the bed. After several minutes, Clive opened the bathroom door and stood there in blue pajama bottoms.

“I should have guessed you would sleep naked.”

John shrugged. “I’m not shy.”

“No, you aren’t.” Clive sighed as though exasperated.

“What? Are you unhappy with that?”

“Unhappy? No.” Clive sat on the bed next to John. “I am simply unused to navigating relationships anymore. That would be why I hire assistants.”

John could practically feel Clive starting to mentally retreat. The man thought too damn much. John had many faults, but that wasn’t one. So he decided to detour around Clive’s weird thoughts and get to the part they both enjoyed.

He leaned in and kissed Clive. Clive made a startled noise before his hand rested against John’s arm. With that bit of encouragement, John deepened the kiss, sucking lightly until Clive’s lips parted. Then his tongue was in John’s mouth, dueling with his own. The awkward angle meant John had to twist, so he rested his hands on Clive’s thighs. Clive’s free hand caught John by the back of the neck, and then they were both tumbling into the bed. John wasn’t sure whether he fell or Clive pulled him or both, but they landed in a tangle of limbs and gray sheets. 

John thrust erection against Clive's thigh.

Clive turned his head, breaking their kiss. “You are enthusiastic.”

“Aren’t you?” John reached between Clive’s legs to find the hard cock under the pajama bottoms.

“Like I said, I always fall for the strong partners.”

“Then stop overthinking,” John said. He leaned in and took another kiss. Clive’s hands ran down John’s arms until Clive rested his palms against John’s waist. When they played in the stables, John fucking loved the sex. But this was different. Clive wasn’t touching an assistant, a wild stallion, a barely controlled submissive tied up in leather. Clive was touching him. John. It sent a shiver down John’s spine.

Clive broke their kiss. His dazed expression and kiss-swollen lips made John want him even more. This was a man so buttoned up and polished that people only saw the façade, but this was the real Clive, and only John got to see him. 

“Let me,” John asked.

“You don’t have to.”

“The fact I fucking want to is the whole point of this.” John cupped Clive's ass and gave it a good hard squeeze. 

Clive didn’t answer, but he thrust his own hips forward, grinding against John. The slide of silk pajamas across John’s hot, hard cock set off sparks of desire that made John’s skin tingle. 

Clive let out a soft groan. The sound went straight to John’s cock.

“You are irresistible,” Clive muttered. He rolled so he was on top of John, his knees straddling John’s body. “So powerful.” Clive rested his hands on John’s broad chest.  John hooked his thumbs under Clive’s waistband and pulled the pajamas down. 

Clive gave John a quick kiss before he rolled on his side and wiggled out of his pajamas. John ran his hands over Clive’s chest. He was wiry, but his body had a few hints of age. The line of hair that led to his belly button was peppered with gray and his stomach had a certain softness to it. He lacked the hard muscles, and John appreciated that. 

Clive caught John’s hand in his and brought it up to his lips, placing a kiss on John’s palm.  Clive reached for the headboard and a second later, the bedroom lights went out, leaving only the light spilling in from the bathroom.

John guided Clive onto his back, half expecting him to protest. After all, Clive had control issues. Instead Clive yielded. John took a nipple in his mouth and flicked his tongue across the sensitive skin. 

Clive gasped and arched his back. Since he had sensitive nipples, John pulled back and blew across the damp skin so all Clive’s tiny hairs stood on end and then he sucked the nipple hard enough to mark it. Clive bucked wildly and John had to throw a leg over Clive’s body to keep him in place.

“You bastard,” Clive gasped, but he fisted John’s hair, holding on so John couldn’t escape or retreat. Now that John was on top, their cocks were pressed together. They were both hard, and John had to control the urge to grab himself and jerk off as fast as possible. The bondage gear did make it easier to enjoy a slow, torturous orgasm, but John was motivated. So he kept his hands on Clive’s shoulders as he teased Clive’s other nipple, sucking and blowing on the spit-cooled skin. Every time, Clive squirmed and gasped.

Clive ran his blunt nails over John’s shoulder, and John groaned as his cock got even harder. “Stop or this is going to be over too damn quick,” John warned.

“There’s no rule about how long we take,” Clive said, but he gentled his touch.

“There’s quick, and then there’s embarrassing.”

Clive laughed, but John wasn’t kidding. He was dangerously close to coming. 

John shifted slightly to the side and wrapped his hand around both their cocks. He began to stroke up and down. He’d never had another man’s cock pressed against his, and John liked that he could see Clive’s passion. His cock was hard and the slit was moist. Even before Clive's breathing devolved into a raspy staccato, John knew he was equally lost in his lust. A cock gave very little room to lie about sexual interest. Clive fisted the sheet until the fitted sheet popped off the corner of the bed.

John’s cock throbbed now, and he rolled his hips as he thrust faster. Clive locked gazes with John. There was such intensity in his eyes that John felt as if he couldn’t look away. They found a matching rhythm, thrusting against each other as the heat and sweat gathered between them.

Soon, John couldn’t control the hungry grunts that escaped on every thrust. Clive, on the other hand, had gone utterly silent. Without warning, he bucked up hard enough to crush their cocks together. The spark of pain made John cry out with need and Clive’s body went rigid. Hot cum spurted onto John’s thigh, and a half second later, John came. The world faded and John collapsed. He landed half on the bed and half on Clive.

“Damn,” Clive said softly. John mumbled without using words. His whole body was limp. Beside him, Clive shifted around. He pressed himself against John’s side and slipped one of his legs between John’s so they lay tangled together.

John turned his head to look into Clive’s face. During their kinky long weekend, Clive had always fucked him from behind, so John didn’t know what to expect from a post-coital Clive, but he looked utterly blissful and content. One of John’s girlfriends had once accused him of not knowing how to bask in the glow of a good orgasm, but until this moment, John hadn’t felt the need to bask.

“You good?” Clive asked.

“Great,” John said. That one word took all the energy he had.

Clive rested his palm on John’s cheek before he leaned in for a slow, gentle kiss. 

John should suggest they clean up or offer to go get a damp washcloth. He could compliment Clive’s technique or appearance—that was always a perennial favorite with clients. He might do any number of things, but instead he chose to close his eyes. Clive stroked John’s hair as they lay with limbs entwined. It didn’t take long for John to slide away into sleep.

Chapter 29: https://www.patreon.com/posts/saddled-chapter-20848455