Page 97 of Plaything

I also had an outrageous number of step-siblings, ranging from all ages. When I was in elementary school, I always got along with them because I always had someone to play with. But then, as middle school and high school rolled around, whenever I would get a step-sibling, there was an obvious disdain for me. Charles never attempted to hide that he favored me over everyone else in the house. As a teenager, I would hate me too if my mom married someone like that.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” he said just above a whisper. It was no secret that I didn’t like talking about myself, much less anything related to Charles and my upbringing. Wyatt took a breath. “How about pasta for dinner?” he suggested. I was thankful for the subject change.

“Food poisoning coming right up!” I giggled.

With a smirk, he rolled his eyes, making my stomach twist at the combination. I was suddenly reminded that I was on his lap and that he was drool-worthy. “You’ve already poisoned me,” he murmured while twirling a piece of my hair.

His words had a deeper meaning, which I wasn’t ready to acknowledge. A thickness built between us as we both seem to remember the closeness of our bodies. Without saying a word, both of us began to smile. His hand moved up my hair until he held the side of my face, pulling me to him.

The calmness in the room made me melt into his arms as he kissed me. His office was cozy, warm, and smelled just like he did. For a moment, I’d forgotten we weren’t at home.

Four loud knocks on the door quickly brought me back to reality. I was off his lap in a second flat, panicking as a blush engulfed my skin. “Fuck, what do we do?!” I whispered.

Wyatt looked collected as he rolled his chair away from his desk. “Don’t hit your head,” he gestured for me to hide.

I nodded, grateful for his quick thinking. His desk was large and spacious, and so was the space under his desk. Despite his caution, I hit my head on his desk as I crawled under it. I hissed, rubbing the sore spot.

“Of course...” Wyatt sighed, shaking his head at my clumsiness.

I settled myself, taking my bag off my shoulder just to be sure I wouldn’t make any noise accidentally. My heart was racing, and I prayed to God that whoever was about to come in suspected nothing.

Wyatt pressed a button on a remote, and quiet music started playing from a radio on a distant shelf. The music would cover up my erratic breathing and whatever shuffling sounds I might make. Wyatt gave me a pointed look. “Are you okay?” He gestured to my head. I nodded; it was just a small bump. “Behave yourself,” he warned before pulling his chair in and boxing me under his desk.

“Come in,” he called, no sign of nervousness in his tone.

The door opened, and heavy footsteps entered the room. “Hi, Mr. Wright,” a man’s voice spoke. He sounded very nasally and, for lack of better words, dumb. “I just had some questions about the assignment, if that’s okay?”

“Of course, have a seat,” Wyatt’s voice was inviting and kind. “What are you stumped on?” He prompted.

The two of them began talking, and I zoned out. I’d already passed Wyatt’s classes twice and had no interest in literature. I did admire how much effort Wyatt put into explaining the research paper to his student. It was clear that he wanted his students to succeed, no matter how difficult his classes were.

More than five minutes had passed, and they were nowhere near done. The student was just as incompetent as his voice painted him to be. I could never be a teacher; I’d be too frustrated by now.

In my boredom, I eyed Wyatt’s groin. His legs were spread open, letting the devil on my shoulder win. I quietly shifted my body, resting on my knees and my toes with my heels on my ass.

His body tensed as I ran my hand up his thigh. I could only see up to Wyatt’s torso, robbing me of his expression. I smirked, biting my lip as he hardened against his thigh.

Why should I waste an opportunity when it’s right in front of me? I’d be quiet, and Wyatt would have to keep his composure.

I ran my hand over the bulge in his pants, the seam giving it a ribbed texture. His thighs tensed, and there was a brief pause in his speech before he continued.

I was having too much fun, toying with him through his pants as he attempted to stay quiet. Any scolding I might earn because of this would be worth it.

Slowly and carefully, to stay quiet, I began undoing his button and zipper. Luckily, I didn’t struggle against his pants much as I gained access to his boxers. Adrenaline washed over me as I gently pulled them down—just enough so I could pull his dick out.

Wyatt cleared his throat, “Excuse me, I uh...” he struggled to remember where they left off, and I smirked. “You’re using a metaphor here when it should be irony.”

Reaching into his boxers, I grabbed his dick, feeling something cold, like a zipper or possibly a button. Ignoring whatever else I touched, I pulled him up and out of his boxers. My mouth dropped open at the length of him. Dominic had been girthy, Aiden was a mixture of both, but Wyatt was long, and I pitied my throat for what I was about to put it through.

Something shiny close to the underside of his dick caught my eye. I lifted him up to inspect and was quickly dumbfounded. I covered my mouth to stop the gasp that almost escaped. My eyes rounded as I stared at the ten gold piercings that laddered up his dick.

Wyatt. Wright. Never in my wildest imagination did I ever think anyone would have something like this, let alone gentle, kind Wyatt. Hyde was the only explanation.

Was this why he’d been using his hands for everything? Since I’d known him, he never attempted to even grind up against me, while the others definitely weren’t shy about it. I hoped he wasn’t worried I’d think any less of him for his... accessories.

To show him that I didn’t mind and I actually thought it was hot, I wrapped my hand around him. From his base to his tip, I licked him, my tongue feeling the ridges of his piercings under his skin. Once I got to the tip, I took him into my mouth.

Wyatt took a sharp breath in the middle of his speech before continuing.

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