Page 21 of The Final Straw

My cock is so hard and all I want to do is grip it with my fist and stroke in rhythm to his ministrations.

His fingers disappear, only to be replaced with his mushroom head, as he presses it against my hole. Grady’s teasing is more than I can take. Sensations from being with our girl earlier, and now like this with the man I love, overwhelm my body.

He must sense my need because he slams his cock inside of me, only allowing a moment for me to adjust before he begins pounding into me.

The house is full of our grunts and the sounds of flesh on flesh. It doesn’t take long before we’re both careening over the edge, each succumbing to our own orgasm. While he fills my ass with his spunk, I shoot mine onto my strategically placed shirt below me.

We’ve spent a fortune cleaning cum stains off this couch, but I’ll never get rid of it. It’s sentimental at this point.

We stay here, joined together, a heaving mess of sweat and euphoria.

“Shit, we forgot to message Ollie and let her know we’re home,” I remind him, hating that it feels like we forgot about her.

“No, we didn’t. I messaged her when I went to the bedroom. Told her we were both worked up and about to fuck to ease ourselves.” He kisses my back. “She told us to have fun and wished she was here.”

I nod, relieved he thought to message her. Not like I could’ve broken his order to do it, anyway.

“Let’s go to bed, Kipp.” He grabs a towel I just noticed on the couch beside us, cleaning me up before helping me stand and leading me to the bedroom.

We both climb into bed, rolling onto our sides to face each other, fingers clasped together.

God, I love this man more than he’ll ever know.

“Ollie’s pretty fucking amazing,” I confess softly.

Grady just stares at me, his cerulean eyes full of concern. Something’s on his mind.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask, squeezing his fingers.

“It fucking disgusts me thinking about that video Ollie showed me. And as much as I love Barbi as your daughter, I hate that she could be that vindictive of a person. How could someone who acts like that come from you? You’re the kindest, sweetest man I’ve ever met. But it’s not just that. I have this nagging feeling that the guy in the video was so drunk he might not have known who he was with.” He blows out a breath of air.

“I know what you mean. I don’t know what happened to the sweet little girl I used to bounce on my knee. She’s turned into someone I don’t even know anymore. How she could be so cruel to someone as sweet as Ollie is beyond me. I didn’t see the video, but if you think he was out of it, I believe you.”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m reading too much into it. Not wanting to see the bad in anyone. He did appear to be drunk, but I’ve been black-out drunk before, and never in a million years would I think someone else was you.”

“Let’s not stress on it, Grady. It’s a worry for tomorrow. Let’s go to bed.” I move closer to him, kissing his lips as I roll over, pressing my back against his chest.

“Barbi is a real piece of work." I hear his faint final words before his soft snores fill the air and we drift off to sleep.

The next morning, Grady is already gone when I wake up. His spot is still warm. Any other time, I’d be mad, but I knew he had an early meeting this morning and wanted to make it to the gym.

I rub the heel of my hands into my eyes, clearing the sleep from them before sitting up. Looking over at my nightstand, I see Grady plugged my phone into the charger at some point during the night.

I pick it up and see Ollie messaged us in our group message.

Ollie: Good morning. I can’t wait to see you later today. I hope you had fun last night.

Grady: We did. I’m dog-tired working out at the gym. Kipp is still sound asleep in bed, looking absolutely delectable.

Me: I’m now awake and missing both of you.

The more I think about that video, the more my stomach churns. As much as I hate to do it, I need to speak with Barbi.

I hit her phone icon and immediately hear the ring. Just when I think it’s going to voicemail, she finally picks up.

“What do you want, Dad?” Her voice is nasally and grouchy.

“Is that how you answer your phone to me now? I need to talk to you, and I want us to meet for lunch.”

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