Page 43 of Antidote

You.

Rather than replying, I spread his ass cheeks and look at his tight little hole. “Did you get all pretty for me, baby?” I breathe, tracing his rim with my fingers. He’s groomed to perfection, not one hair in sight.

“Don’t be flattered.” Ollie chuckles. “It’s not for you.”

Smack.

My hand lands on his ass once more. “Who the fuck for?”

“Me.”

Good answer. “You look so fucking pretty,” I say softly, then spit on his ass. “Fuck, I want to be in this ass so bad.”

“Stop playing games with me, Hunter,” Ollie growls, bucking his hips.

“Who said I’m playing?” I smile and spit on his hole again, then nudge it with two of my fingers. “Relax for me.”

I feel Oliver relax against my fingers, and even though they’re not lubed up, he takes them. For me. Because he wants to please me. And, let’s be honest, he likes the pain a little bit.

My cock leaks in my own sweats as I bury my fingers up to the knuckle, feeling his tight heat envelop me. Fuck, I wish it was my dick. I guess it’s not broken after all, if the raging boner I’m sporting is any indication. Plus, it hurts. So I do the only logical thing—I push my pants down and wrap my hand around my cock, tugging it sluggishly as I begin to finger Ollie’s hole.

Ollie’s ass clenches around my fingers as I thrust in and out, and I feel around for his prostate. When I finally find it, I’m rewarded with the most guttural groan I’ve ever heard, making my dick jump in my hand.

“Oh, fuck.” Ollie moans as I keep hitting the same spot. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

My hand speeds up around my cock, and I chase the high, the euphoria, as I watch my fingers thrust in and out of his hole. I know it has to hurt a little considering I only used spit, but you’d never think it from how he’s pushing back and fucking my fingers himself. “You like it when it hurts, baby? When I hurt you?”

“Yes,” he moans, and more pre-cum leaks from me. “Harder.”

I oblige him, thrusting harder, pushing up on his prostate, and I feel his ass begin to flutter around my fingers. Only I don’t want him to come, so I pull out completely, then jack my length faster.

A shiver runs down my spine as I brush the head of my cock against his hole, pushing it in just slightly, and the way his heat wraps around me so snugly has my hips stuttering. I pull back just an inch and come all over him, his back—his hole.

“I’m coming,” I groan. “F-fuck.”

Rubbing it in, I’m transfixed at the way I want to thrust my fingers back in, so I do. They’re finally so fucking wet they slide right in, and he moans for me again. “This is mine,” I murmur, rubbing my cum over his tight little hole as I pull my fingers out. “Only I get to fuck this.”

“What the fuck—Hunter.”

“What, Ollie boy?” I ask him with a grin, my hand smearing my cum all over his back and ass.

“Make me come,” he growls, pushing his ass back against me.

I think about it for a second—but only one—before I make my final decision. “Brats don’t get to come.”

“Fuck off, then.” I take a step back as Oliver gathers his sweats from the floor and leaves the room, stomping away with a pissed-off air about him.

“You’re not allowed to touch yourself!” I yell after him with a smile on my face because, goddamn, this is the most alive I’ve felt since I last touched him.

And hours later, even though I told him not to—even though I know he’s a fucking brat who’s going to do whatever he wants, and I should be pissed about it…I still lie down in my bed and listen to him make himself come.

It’s funny how life works sometimes.

I hadn’t been to the cemetery in months, not since Hunter all but kicked me out last time—right before rehab. And then it didn’t feel right to come after since I wasn’t sure if it was an insult to my mom’s memory to get better—to be sober. But I know if there’s one thing she would’ve wanted, it was for me to get clean.

Either way, here I am, sitting in front of my mom’s grave and laughing. It almost feels like old times when I would sit with her and tell her all about my day. I could never talk about my relationship with Hunter before, but now that she’s not here anymore…well, I feel more free to say what’s on my mind. It’s not like she can express her disapproval, even if she feels it. God, I’m so fucked up.

“And then…” I laugh again. “He thought Jamie was my boyfriend. Can you believe that shit? I mean, it’s not like he cared. At least it didn’t seem like it when his fingers were in my ass—sorry, mom.”

---