Someone Like You Read online

He was pinned against the door by Tate, held immobile by Emily’s plastic sword.

  “What business have you here, cur?” she inquired, the sword never wavering.

  “I come bearing offerings,” he gestured to the box. “Queen Cara’s proclamation of the equinox festivities included an invitation.”

  Suddenly, the sword clattered to the oak floor as Emily leapt off her one uncle and grabbed the box from the other running towards the kitchen.

  “Mommy… Uncle Brad brought the box. We can make ice cream!”

  He expected Tate to move back and stand up, but he pushed closer, pressing Brad against the door. He tried to contain it, but a small sighed escaped.

  “You really do like to be pinned.” Tate rubbed his face against Brad’s crotch blowing hot air through the fabric.

  And what had been a slight tingle was now becoming more as his body remembered just how good another person could be. He wanted to rip his clothes off and beg Tate to do it again, but the excited chattering and bangs emanating from the kitchen warned him that they only had a few moments.

  “Yeah.”

  Tate rubbed against Brad’s thickening cock and then crawled up his body until they were chest to chest. Brad moaned quietly, as they lined up for a few grinds, then Tate chuckled.

  “As much as I really want to continue this, it’ll have to wait.”

  “Good idea,” Brad panted. “Later?”

  “I was hoping you had time.” Tate played with the ridge of Brad’s cock, stroking the outline.

  Fuck. He’d make time.

  “Get yourself under control, then join us.” Tate strolled towards the kitchen quite aware of Brad’s undivided attention.

  He looked down at his very excited dick and let his head fall back against the door with a thunk. This might take a few. He’d never been teased before; the guys he knew weren’t big on delayed gratification. Brad still wasn’t sure if he was, either, but so far, playing Tate’s game had paid off big for him.

  Denial

  Golden shards of light cut across, the thrown knives hitting their target.

  The clicking of the camera, a soft melody in the golden light of a summer night.

  Bad poetry is a sure sign of bigger problems.

  I wasn’t ready to admit that our happy-go-lucky fucking relationship was turning into something more, but the thoughts running through my mind as I watched Tate told a different story. I was an accountant for a reason.

  And yet, reason seemed to have left me.

  Brad was lying there in a haze after Tate fucked the come out of him. Face down on the bed with his pants around his ankles, his shoes still on. Cool air wafted across his naked ass, his damp cotton shirt clinging to his back. Tate stood up, and he could breathe easier, but the part he didn’t like was here. The emptiness. Tate pulled out.

  Brad watched him throw away the condom then strip off his clothes. He couldn’t move. Tate slapped his ass and leaned over, his face was so close that Brad felt the tickle of his beard.

  “You looked wrecked.” Tate ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back. “You’ll feel better if you get naked.”

  Brad grunted. He had zero interest in moving and was oddly satisfied with the feeling of being displayed after Tate owned his ass. He was still reveling in the fact that Tate understood him. Well, that and the spectacular no hello, push him down on the bed and rip his clothes down just enough to fuck him with no prep.

  He heard Tate wander off, water pouring into a glass, and footsteps returning. They muffled as he crossed the carpet.

  “Fuck Brad.” The glass was set down, and the belt jingled as Tate rummaged through his jeans. “So fucking beautiful.”

  It was the sound of a camera clicking that startled him. He turned his head. Tate was staring at his ass and then his camera phone. He shivered as a hand pulled wide one cheek of his ass, and then, a click.

  Tate muttered between photos, “Tilt up.” It was the quiet command that rocked his world. “Show me.”

  Brad spread his legs as far as his pants would allow and arched his back, reveling in the whispered praises. Shivering as fingers brushed across his skin.

  “Did I hurt you? You’re all puffy and pink.” One finger traced the edges of his hole.

  “No.” He bit back a moan, each caress a cocktail of searing pleasure. Tate had fucked him hard, and he’d be feeling it for a few days.

  “You look so good.”

  Brad started grinding against the bed, but Tate chastised him.

  “Not time for you. Stop rubbing your cock and show me that greedy hole.”

  Brad whined but did as he was told.

  One hand cupped his balls, pulling them back. “Still pretty full. One day I’m gonna see how much I can make you come.”

  Brad groaned. Nothing had ever felt like this, not like being in Tate’s hands.

  “You like this? Like showing me, don’t you?”

  He hadn’t ever thought of himself as an exhibitionist, but clearly, Tate brought it out in him. The idea the Tate was examining and photographing his most private parts, the hidden side of him, was exhilarating.

  “You did this at the club. Waved your tight ass around trying to lure a big fat cock.”

  He tried to answer, but when he felt the glide of Tate’s thumb slip into his ass, tugging on the rim, pulling it open, he lost any chance he had. The calloused digit circled, stretching wide the swollen flesh.

  “So fucked out you’d let anything in, wouldn’t you?”

  It was too much to be in the moment and accept how much Tate wanted him just like this. But Tate wouldn’t let him wander off. He kept telling Brad how he wanted him.

  Exactly how he wanted him.

  “The only thing that would make this more beautiful is if my come was dripping out of you,” Tate whispered as he fucked him with his thumb, slowly edging him, making him desperate.

  Too much. Tate was driving him insane; between his fingers and his words, Brad was lost in sensations. He clenched down on that broad thumb, squeezing rhythmically, keening through his orgasm. Come squirting out, covering his chest as it dripped down.

  “Oh fuck,” Tate whispered, barely audible above the frantic motions of his hand stripping his dick. “You’re so fucking hot, coming like that.” The pace quickened. “You want that? You want to be covered in me?”

  “God, yes.” He wasn’t sure why, but now he wanted it. He wanted Tate to spray his come all over him, to coat him and feel it dripping off him. “Mark me.”

  With a loud shout, warmth showered his spread ass, his balls, his hole. It kept coming as Tate groaned above him, half-formed epithets garbled out.

  Then, the camera began clicking again.

  Surprise Journey

  Getting what you need is sometimes better than what you want.

  I was finally beginning to understand the dance Tate and I were engaged in. We never sat down with pen to paper, but trial and error had been working pretty darn well for us. Of course, my innovations seem to end in trials even if they weren’t errors.

  I was beginning to like that about our relationship.

  Tate pushed him away with a glare. “No. Bend over.”

  Brad leaned against the sofa, one knee up on the rolled armed. This was becoming a regular episode for them. Tate got off on denying him, watching Brad get horny, and started to discipline his sexual overtures.

  “You get things when I say.” The paddle played a rapid tattoo on his ass, the cheeks smarting. “All those years you spent going to the club and you never learned any control. Guys just used you as a fuck toy, and you took it because you’re a cock slut. But I expect more, Brad.”

  “Yes, sir,” he choked out as the paddle pounded, smacking against his flesh. His ass was burning when it stopped, finally.

  “Better.” Tate petted his ass, the pain flaring. “Stay.” Tate wandered to the coffee table and pulled a plug out of the drawer. “Now, I know you’ve been good while I was gone and didn’t mean to d
o that, so, I’m going to fill you up, just not how you wanted.”

  Hard, smooth plastic pushed against his hole, opening him up for the broad toy.

  “You already lubed?” Tate snorted incredulously. “You need a lot of attention, don’t you.” He shook his head, but Tate slapped his ass, the nerves flaring bright after the paddling. “That wasn’t a question.”

  Brad tried not to sound needy as the plug breached him, god, it was a big one. But when Tate started fucking it into him he moaned.

  “You better not fucking come, or there will be big problems.”

  “No, sir,” he whispered as Tate took mercy and seated the toy firmly. Pulling him up, Tate frowned at his hard cock. “I thought you didn’t like the paddle?”

  “I don’t,” he admitted, “But that plug is really big.” Tate rolled his eyes.

  “Watch the movie, and if you’re good, you might earn that fucking you wanted so bad.”

  It wasn’t comfortable, but a few minutes in, Tate glanced over at his squirming and took pity.

  “Come here.” He held open his arms, drawing Brad in to lay nestled between the sofa arm and Tate’s body on his side. “Better?”

  “Mmm…” he said snuggling his face against Tate’s chest, the hair beneath the cotton creating a springy cushion. He drew in a deep breath, taking comfort in the warmth and smell surrounding him.

  Goosebumps rose from the hand gently stroking up and down his right flank. It felt strange, good. The touch was unlike anything he’d experienced before. He was just starting to drift off when it veered over an abused cheek, the nerves skittering him wide awake.

  “It still feels hot.” Tate’s hand ran over his ass lightly, cupping the bottom curve.

  Brad inhaled sharply at the sensation of prickles running across his skin.

  “Looks even hotter.” Tate grinned at his snort. “You like it, though, right?”

  He yawned. “I wouldn’t say I liked it, but I like you doing it to me.” The pain wasn’t bad; it just wasn’t what drove him to want Tate to do it. It was the expression on Tate’s face and the how it felt when he was pushed.

  “So you like it?”

  “I like you.” He tilted up his head; Tate immediately pulled him into a filthy kiss, all tongue and teeth nipping at his lips. “This is amazing,” he said as Tate drew back.

  “You don’t miss your club?” He wondered if that was a flash of jealousy, but it was gone so fast he couldn’t tell. The idea that Tate worried was laughable.

  “No.”

  “Not even a bit,” Tate prodded. “All those guys ready to give you what you wanted when you wanted it.” Brad laughed at the thought of Tate fucking him on command. “See, you do!”

  Brad shook his head, “Sure, would I like you to give in more often? Absolutely. But, I wouldn’t change what we’re doing, Tate.” He petted the thick strands of Tate’s beard; they were surprisingly soft and silky. “I don’t think I could have imagined this; it doesn’t mean I don’t want it.”

  Tate caressed both ass cheeks, rolling him over onto his stomach. His face was squished in the leather cushion, it felt cool and smooth while he shivered from the calluses catching on the tender skin. The jiggle of the plug as Tate wiggled it had torment and pleasure vying for attention.

  “Do you miss being seen? Men watching you and wanting you?”

  Brad hadn’t thought about it until Tate mentioned how needy he was. All the attention he demanded. But now, he realized that the club helped him feel less invisible, and he was transferring that need to Tate.

  “I didn’t use to think so. But yeah, sometimes.”

  Tate rolled him back over. “Good. I want you to tell me these things.” Suddenly, a hand was stroking Brad’s hard cock. “I don’t want to go to your club, but I have another idea.”

  He knew Tate wasn’t one for large crowds, the occasional concert or event being the exceptions. He wasn’t surprised that Tate didn’t want to go, and honestly, now that he and Tate were together, he didn’t really want to go, either. That club was a safe alternative to finding what he wanted, but being with Tate was better than anything he found at the club.

  Brad tried his hardest not to hump up into Tate’s hand. His ass already hurt, and, he’d rather be having the carrot than the stick, now. Unless it was Tate’s stick.

  “I know you were hoping for a different reunion tonight.”

  That was an understatement. After Tate’s three weeks’ absence, he was hoping by this time to be fucked unconscious and milked dry, but he knew better than to elaborate on Tate’s statement.

  “So I’ve got a proposition for you.” Tate’s hand slowed on his cock, teasing. “I’ve got a site, unlinked and passworded that a few acquaintances and colleagues subscribe to.

  Brad’s eyebrows shot up.

  Let’s just say we all share similar interests in voyeurism. We put up a post of your needy cock and greedy hole and see whether or not you can get ten of them to like your post. They do; you get what you want. A good hard fucking.” His thumb circled the head of Brad’s cock, strumming, the rough skin catching. “What do you think?”

  “Do I know these people?” It might be okay, but he was not sure about meeting his friends after this. “Alan isn’t on it, is he?” he panicked briefly.

  “No.” Tate smiled. “Alan’s interests are much more mainstream.”

  Mapping

  Fact: Tate was broadening my horizons. Work. Family. Play, Those three small worlds could barely contain me anymore. I had fans. My fans at the club were only interested in the few moments it took to bend me over, but now, Tate’s crowd was expanding my interactions. The move to online had been terrifying, and I would never have done it without Tate.

  Tate liked watching my reaction to others watching me. He liked showing me off, and it was becoming easier to accept as a part of myself.

  “Jesus, Tate. Where are you?”

  “At the picnic grounds near the ranger station.”

  Brad kept stroking his dick, legs wide. “Do I need to be quiet?” he panted, biting his lip not to moan.

  “Definitely, not,” Tate smirked. “In fact, pretty sure the parents know what I’m doing. The husband looks unhappy, but the mother looks interested.” He was smiling to someone beyond the phone.

  He was slightly freaked out by kids and strangers listening to them. It was one thing to do this for Tate, another to see video clips on Tate’s site, but live action in public?

  Tate must have seen his indecision. “They’re gone, so let me hear you.”

  He tried not to let his relief show as he started moaning. “I miss you. I need you.” His other hand squeezing his balls, rubbing over his taint and farther back.

  “That’s it. Spread wider.” Tate’s commands telling him what to do, that’s what he loved. “Fill that hole.” Brad groaned, spearing two in immediately, then added a third, the stretch beginning to satisfy. “That’s it—”

  “Your boy?” a gruff voice asked, and Tate looked away.

  “Yeah. Wanna watch?” The screen shifted, and a big bear of a man appeared, his beard graying and the motorcycle leathers broken in. A big daddy. Brad used to search out guys like him.

  “Hungry thing. You need to feed him more.” His gaze avidly fixed low where Brad was roughly fucking his fingers.

  “He gets nine inches.” Tate’s voice, he needed that with the stranger’s eyes on him.

  “Yeah, but a bitch like that needs to be used, and often,” said Big Daddy when another face appeared on the screen. Shorter and not as stocky, the jet black of his hair pulled back with a leather tie. His sun-bronzed features were sharper and his gaze more intense.

  “I’d pierce him if he were mine.” A murmur of assent from the Big Daddy while Tate watched Brad intently, then the voice added, ”Pretty little cock like that needs jewelry.”

  “We’re gonna find a bitch in the next town,” said Big Daddy.

  “I’d be up for that flavor.”

  “Nice
tight boy or just ass, Vince?” Big Daddy was smiling at his friend.

  All three crowded around the screen watching Brad. Fuck. He was turned on by their expressions. They looked hungry. Ready to fuck him one right after the other. Brad imagined being ruthless fucked while Tate watched.

  “Tate…” He was so close. He needed Tate to tell him.

  “Come for them. They need to get going.” Tate’s face was intense, practically feral. If he were here, then Brad would be in for a fuck to remember. And with that thought, stripes of come shot up, hitting his chin and into his open mouth.

  “Cum hungry. Nice.”

  “Thanks for sharing your boy’s call in.” Big Daddy said as Brad lay there panting, fingers sliding out of his ass.

  Change is Good

  Obliviousness only lasts for so long. Even I eventually recognized the truth. That didn’t mean I wasn’t surprised when Alan and Cara seemed to take the announcement of our relationship without blinking.

  Tate had been telling me not to worry for months, and of course he was right. Yeah, Tate pinned me down until I admitted it. That wasn’t the disincentive it was for Alan, but I had learned that Tate knew me better than I thought.

  A little bit of begging was never amiss.

  It had been a shitty day. One of his major accounts had been given to a new hire. Even though Brad had complained about the workload, everyone had been doing sixty hour weeks regularly for the last two months; he loved that account: smooth sailing, great clients, and now that wet behind the ears Thompson was interfacing with them. He should be happy; he had staff reporting to him!

  Truth was, he was tense. The stress had been piling on, so when Tate asked if he picked up their Thai order, he snapped. The stream of profanity was followed by his briefcase sliding across the table and shooting off the other end.

  Damn it. This was not how he wanted their first night back after another of Tate’s trips to start.