Page 71 of Real

Timothy

I don’t know how many times I come inside Buddy. I don’t know how many times he comes and screams with surprise. One orgasm fades into another and another until we’re nothing but sweaty mush. Somehow, we moved from the kitchen to the bed in the guest bedroom. It’s all such a blur.

Buddy is quiet while he snuggles against me. The human version of him isn’t as different as I thought it would be. There were glimpses of his human form before when he tried on clothes or smelled that food from the drive-through. I chalked it up to a trick of the light, but now I’m not so sure.

I am sure that he’s mine. Not my boyfriend but my mate. I don’t know how that happened, but it clearly did.

“Being a human is very cold,” he says. He sounds sleepy. “And wet. There is so much wetness coming out of my ass.”

I hold back a chuckle. “You asked me to breed you, baby. So I bred you. I’ll breed you every night if you want me to.”

He tucks his head under my chin. “That sounds wonderful. But maybe I can be plastic for part of it. I’m so sore.”

I run my fingers along the crease of his ass and use my leftover cum as lube to slip a finger inside him. I love the way he’s leaking my release like this. He smells like me, and that feels like as much of a claim as the bite on his shoulder.

“Next time, maybe I’ll plug you up to keep my cum inside you,” I say, circling my finger.

“Oh, I can’t, Timothy. You’re making me want you again.”

I circle my other hand around his dick, which is indeed perking up.

He shakes his head. “I’m too sensitive. I came too many times.”

“You could become plastic, baby. Then I could eat your ass and make you orgasm without hurting you.”

I suddenly understand why Skatt’s mate likes his wooden form. I have to be more careful with Buddy when he’s human.

“The hurt is nice,” Buddy says. “I know that’s strange, but I like it.”

“Not strange.” I kiss his temple and his cheek. “I can hurt you a little if you like that. I want to give you everything.”

We share a long, languorous kiss.

“My stomach hurts in a bad way, though,” he says. “Does your stomach always hurt? How do you make it stop?”

I smile. “You’re probably hungry. How about you rest, and I’ll make us something to eat?”

Dorian’s kitchen is stocked with all kinds of fancy health foods and fresh vegetables. I end up selecting the remaining eggs, a carton of tiny mushrooms, and a jar of capers. I’m able to find a block of hard artisanal cheese that has a mild smell to it and some blueberries in the bottom crisper.

I haven’t eaten since yesterday either. My stomach grumbles while I cook. Manny brought my emergency bag when he came to visit this morning, so I shower and change into some fresh clothes while the mushrooms simmer. I finish cooking the second omelet just before Buddy comes in wearing another oversized hoodie and sweatpants that probably belonged to Dorian. His hair is sticking up in several different directions, and he looks so adorable and properly fucked, I can’t help but pull him into my arms for a quick hug.

I still can’t believe he’s mine.

In the other room, Candlewick yells, “Fuck, that’s it. Oh God!” There’s some vigorous banging that’s likely a headboard slamming rhythmically against the wall, and then Candlewick wails so loudly there’s no mistaking what’s going on in there.

Buddy laughs silently into my shoulder.

“Sounds like he’s enjoying himself. How about we do the same? You said you’ve eaten before, but you couldn’t digest it?”

Buddy nods against me. “You’re so warm. Can I sit in your lap?”

I like how cuddly he is in his human form.

We bring the plates of eggs and blueberries over and sit at the head of the table. Buddy curls into my lap, resting his head against my chest. “You’re my teddy bear.”

“This teddy bear wants to see you eat,” I say. After watching Buddy smell that food yesterday and shopping for clothes, I want to show him the world.

He picks up a fork experimentally and skewers a mushroom covered in cheese before bringing it to his mouth. His eyes close, and he makes a groaning noise not unlike the ones coming from Dorian’s bedroom.

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