Page 22 of A Merry Christmas for Art… and His Tentacles

“Yeah. That’s part of the reason I agreed so quickly to Frank’s bullshit plan. I wanted the excuse to spend more time with you.”

I had no idea. For a moment, I lose control of my metachrosis, and I’m suddenly visible. He looks over and smiles at me. “Hey, there.”

Where Dean Miller’s body is wired with muscle and hairy, mine is decidedly not. I am scrawny with knobby knees and very little body hair to speak of. I hug my arms and look away from him. Unfortunately, my tentacles are not at all concerned about my body insecurities, and they slither toward Dean. Not just one or two of them, but four, and they wind themselves around him, pulling him closer.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

He leans in until I can feel the heat of his breath on my lips. “Don’t be.”

This is what I want. Judging by the thickening of Dean Miller’s cock, it’s what he wants too. I should stop worrying about things I cannot change. I close the distance between us, pressing my lips to his. It’s wonderful to taste his mouth at the same time my tentacles taste his body. His flavor and scent are a heady combination. One of my tentacles slithers down his right ass cheek. I almost break away from him, worried that I’ve taken things too far, but he moans into my mouth.

Another tentacle reaches for his left ass cheek. This time, I allow myself to enjoy the sensation of squeezing his supple flesh. He moans again, not at all freaked out or surprised. Does he know what I want to do to him? If I told him, would he be into it, or would he think I was a freaky stereotype straight out of a tentacle porno?

To my utter horror, the tentacle exploring his right ass cheek slides to the center and slips between his cheeks. I finally jerk away, not sure what his reaction will be. He stares back at me with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Do you have lube?” he asks.

“For what?”

He gives me a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose. “For whatever you’re doing back there.”

“Um, yes. I have lube.”

He kisses me again, this time on the lips. We just make out for a few minutes. Our kisses are nice and slow. The first time he kissed me, I was so preoccupied with doing it right that it was harder to get lost in it. This time, it feels too good to worry about anything. Our tongues meet, and I love the drag of his against mine. It’s almost as good as squeezing his ass. I want to do that again. Hell, I want to do it every day.

I reach around with my hand and place it on his ass. I feel him smile against my lips.

“Mmm, I like that,” he whispers.

I grab his flesh and squeeze. It’s so much better with my hand. Dean kisses me harder, sliding his fingers through my hair to pull me closer by the back of my head. I reach for him with my other hand, until I’m cupping both his ass cheeks.

He breaks away from the kiss to climb onto my lap. Technically, this was the position we were in last night, but our jeans were still partially on, and we weren’t in the water. This is much better. I squeeze both of his ass cheeks at the same time.

“Mmmm.”

“Do you like… that sort of thing?” I ask.

He lets out a breathy chuckle. “If that’s your way of asking if I like bottoming, the answer is yes.”

My cheeks grow hot. That is exactly what I was asking. I’ve apparently been reduced to vague euphemisms.

He tilts his head. “Is that what you want?”

“To bottom? Absolutely not. I know I don’t have ‘top energy.’ But I… I mean, if you aren’t interested?—”

Dean kisses me. “I am definitely interested.”

Relief rushes through me. I kiss him back with fervor, finally allowing myself to properly hope for the things I’ve wanted to do with Dean for a long time. His body rocks closer, and the heat of his slippery cock slides against me. This time, I’m the one who moans. We rut against each other. I hold his ass in myhands possessively, allowing my fingers to creep between his ass cheeks. He lets out a breathy “fuck.”

“Could I do it with my tentacles?” I ask, even though I know that’s vague too.

“You mean me?” Dean asks. “You want to fuck me with your tentacles?” He’s grinding against me desperately now.

“Yes.”

“Good,” he says. “Because I’ve fantasized about that.”

He’s fantasized about my tentacles? That’s a lot to take in. I mean, I knew that some humans were into that sort of thing, but I never thought Dean Miller would be.

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