Page 59 of Sleep

Hand back on his head, I pushed down as I guided my dick back into the warmth, slowly, not too deep, giving him time to adjust before I pushed a little more.

“Good boy, you can do it. Feels so fucking good.”

The words sat comfortably in my mouth, not that I was thinking any coherent thoughts. My body trembled as I pushed my cock a little further into that willing wetness, the sounds coming from him egging me on, my fingers gripping onto the hair at the back of his head, tugging. I was probably hurting him, my mind almost gone, sharp flashes everywhere as my muscles seemed to spasm.

And there it was. Hello orgasm, my old friend. The light overwhelmed every sense in my body and then there was darkness, and I roared.

And again.

He was still bobbing desperately, sucking me absolutely clean. Another spasm hit me, and I shouted out, no idea what I was saying.

And then he let me go.

The sound he made was brutal, raw, went straight to my bones, making my eyes shoot open as he held himself up and came all over my legs.

Him, me and all that we had created, right here. My cum running from the corner of his mouth, his cum all over his hand, on me, on the bed.

Then we were laughing, because what the fuck, universe?

“This thing about jumping,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before sitting back on his haunches, naked, right there next to my legs. “I thought about it, and you’re right. It’s time for me to jump too. You and me. Want to do this?”

“Yes,” I whispered. I was too overwhelmed to say anything else.

21. Jonathan

“You’re surprising,” I said, pressing their body further into my arms.

This. THIS!

I was still in a state of bliss, stark naked on my back, with their head against my chest, an arm slung around my shoulder and their lips against my skin. It felt as if something huge and incredibly heavy had been lifted from my chest. This whole awful, awkward secret I’d nursed and carried and fed had just evaporated.

Well, it wasn’t fully gone. I knew better than that. I’d had enough therapy to teach me that nothing was solved overnight.

But I’d still jumped. For once, I switched off all those inhibitions and asked for what I needed. What I wanted. What I craved.

“I’m just who I am. I like what I like,” they said, nuzzling closer, that big fat cock of theirs nestled comfortably against my leg.

“You’re perfect,” I said, once again having to move hair out of their face so I could see them.

“You mean you have a thing for large dicks.”

“I do, but even so, everything about you is perfect.”

“There’s still so much stigma around not fitting into the cis norm of existence, I never felt…perfect. I hate that word.”

“You shouldn’t. You’re kind, and wonderful, and thoughtful, and warm and…it’s strange. You make me feel comfortable. I never have. Not with myself, with my body. I heard you say once that you try all these things and seem to fail at them all. I think that’s wrong. Your experiences make you who you are. Well-rounded. Gorgeous.”

I wished they wouldn’t cringe so when I complimented them, but I would keep doing it because…well. Mabel Donovan was truly the most beautiful person I had ever known.

“I always knew who I was,” they continued. “Always felt like this split personality that I somehow had to merge. It’s not easy when you’re young, but I’m older now. I don’t care as much. And then life happens, and you start to think that you’ll always be alone and single, and you start to be okay with that. Like, you settle into some kind of spinsterhood and…I mean, I know how to crochet. I just need a cat.”

“No cats. I’m allergic.”

“Shit.”

I chuckled and rubbed their shoulder, relishing this skin-to-skin contact. My nakedness that would have embarrassed me before; now it felt like an asset, a comfortable robe.

“Remember that old fairy tale? The Emperor’s New Clothes?”

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