Page 36 of The Try Line

"This is depraved," he whines, but I'm too busy watching his asshole gape to bother responding. He flexes, and I watch in fascination as his hole protrudes a little before a stream of cum falls out, dripping onto my lap.

"Fucking hell," I groan. "That's the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life."

Mik huffs an embarrassed laugh, but bears down again, forcing more cum to trickle out of him. He yelps in surprise when I lick a broad stroke up his ass and then wrap my lips around his ass and suck.

"Fuck, Jay. I– Ohfuck."

I end up bending him over the ottoman and fucking him again because how can I not after that little show? I want to put a plug in his ass and make him keep me inside him, but it's obvious how much he's hurting after the pounding I just made him take. He begged for it, though. He likes it.

It hurts so good.

CHAPTER 16

MIK

A few days ago, I was freaked out that we were going to be locked in the house together while a storm raged around us. Now I'm mad at the sun for coming out.

All the roads are fine. There was minimal damage around town, and no one reported back to my wife that there was a half-naked tattooed man standing in her yard during the storm.

Overall, it could have been so much worse. And because I'm fucked up, I wish it had been. I wish the town had been decimated, that we were all floating in several feet of water so no one could get to us.

"Hey, you alright?"

"Hmm?" I blink out of my thoughts to see Janel watching me.

"You can sit this one out if you're hurting."

I was in the shower when Janel got home, washing the smell of sex and Jason from my skin and letting the cold water soothe my abused ass. I know we took it too far; he knows it too. But he can't say no to me any more than I can say no to him. Well, joke's on us because I can barely walk now. I had to tell Janel I pulled a muscle when she noticed I was walkingfunny.

"Nah, I'm okay," I say, giving her a small smile. She pushes up on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek before going back to raking the debris from the yard.

Jason watches us from the ladder, where he's supposed to be clearing out the gutters. Jase and one of his friends went to help one of our elderly neighbors clean up their yard. Probably those same assholes that called the cops on me for being in my own garage. Janel has been sucking up to them since the incident.

By the time we're done cleaning up the aftermath, I'm grateful for the power being back on. "God, I missed air conditioning."

"I dunno, wasn't so bad," Jason mutters, downing a glass of water before disappearing into the utility room. He comes out with an arm full of the covers for the couch cushions.

"I'll help you with that," I offer, following Jason to the basement stairs.

It's barely been twenty-four hours since our bubble burst, but I find I'm willing to go to great lengths to get even a minute alone with him. But Janel either missed me after a couple of days staying with her parents, or she has a sixth sense, because she's been glued to my side.

"Oh, I can help too," she says, trailing behind us. She stops at the bottom of the stairs and surveys the state of the sofa cusions. "What happened down here?"

Jason locks eyes with me for a moment so brief it might not have even happened, before dumping the pile of covers on the ottoman and catching the foam cushions I toss at him. After we had to rush through scrubbing this place down, we work like a well-oiled machine, putting it all back together.

"We were hanging out down here because it was cooler than the rest of the house. I spilled something on the couch and decided I mightas well wash all the cushions while I was at it, especially since we were so sweaty."

It's kind of scary how he manages to tell the truth and lie at the same time. He’s smooth as butter, not even flinching when I pick up the last of the couch cushions and the missing butt plug bounces a couple of feet in front of me. I nearly choke, tripping over myself to get to it before anyone sees it and end up kicking it. Thank fuck it bounces under the couch.

"Oh," she says, her eyes moving back and forth between us. "I guess you two are getting along, then?"

"Uh, yeah. Guess so," I answer, pretending to be occupied with stuffing a cushion back into the cover.

"Taking a shower together heals all wounds," Jason jokes. I gape at him, horrified. Janel nearly drops the cushion she's working on. Chuckling, Jason holds the cover so Janel can stuff the pad in, still looking confused. "When I went to check on him after you nagged me—justifiably—I found him wrapped in blankets and two seconds from heat stroke. I got him to the bathroom and in the shower to cool off, but he couldn't hold himself up."

Janel's expression turns concerned. "You didn't tell me you got that sick."

"I'm fine," I say gently. "Your asshole brother took good care of me."

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