Page 29 of A Merry Christmas for Art… and His Tentacles

Dean slides his arm across my back and gives me a half-hug. “Thank you. That is actually very comforting. Between the two of you, I’m sure you could come up with some kind of solution. But it’s never good to have a boss who hates you.”

Does Frank hate Dean because he defended me? That doesn’t seem fair. A part of me wishes that I’d never agreed to people lessons with Dean, especially if he loses his job over this.

“C’mon, let’s go make some Christmas cookies,” Dean says, holding out his hand to me. I take it, even though I’m still concerned about his impending Christmas tree decoration plans and my possible erections.

We still haven’t had sex at work. Maybe it’s time to figure out how to make that happen.

Dean

Art takes my hand, and then his tentacles wrap around me as well. I try not to shiver at the feeling—now is not the time to get turned on.

“How late will you need to stay to make up the lab time after decorating the tree?” Art asks me. I notice he doesn’t include himself in that, probably because he already comes in early and stays late all the time.

“We technically have the afternoon off,” I tell him, grinning. “HR always lets people who decorate for the holiday party take the afternoon off. It’s one of the perks of helping out, even though we’re sometimes here until after work hours anyway. I really think they do it so if anyone sips a bit of apple cider wine or spiked eggnog while we decorate, no one is on the clock.”

“So we are technically not on work hours right now?” Art asks suspiciously.

“That’s right!” I say, turning to head out of the lab.

Only Art turns and pulls me in the opposite direction, back toward the supply and break room. Maybe he wants to store his lab coat? We weren’t in the clean room—our lab has a fewseparate areas—but I realize it isn’t a bad idea to leave my lab coat here too.

We get into the lab break room and Art closes the door. There’s a few chairs and a small table, and Art and I have eaten lunch here a few times when we didn’t feel like heading to the cafeteria or going out.

I take off my lab coat and hang it on one of the hooks by the lockers. I turn around and… Art’s lab coat is off. But so are his shoes. And his pants are unbuttoned.

And that’s where he seems to have stopped—mid-undressing. I get the impression that Art has something fun in mind for the break room, and I am one hundred percent on board for any ideas he might have.

Art isn’t nearly as shy with me about sex as he used to be, but he still likes to check in before we try anything new—and to make sure I’m in the mood (which I pretty much always am with him). Yes, I’m still vaguely worried about Frank’s threat, but mainly because I love working with Art so much. Being intimate with Art is exactly what I need right now to put those worries aside.

I smile and wink at him to let him know I am definitely in before I grab a chair and slide it under the break room door handle. That ought to be warning enough in case anyone comes back here. I’m not worried, though—Art and I are the only ones working in this lab right now.

Art’s watching me, and I can see the tent in his underwear where he unzipped his pants. I saunter over and wrap my arms around him.

“Art, were you thinking of doing something fun at work?” I tease, rubbing myself against him.

“It is not, strictly speaking, against company policy…” Art begins, but then he trails off as he looks at my mouth and I grind a little harder against him.

“What fun things did you have in mind that are ‘not against company policy’?” I ask.

“I would like to taste you, Dean Miller. With my mouth,” he clarifies, and I can’t help the groan that escapes me.

We’ve had sex a bunch of times, and his tentacles are so damn good that somehow we’ve never really gotten to the blowjob side of things. The idea is crazy hot, though. Not only would I love Art’s mouth on me, but I want to see Art come undone in a place where he’s always so formal. I want to taste him—after all, his tentacles have already gotten a taste of me.

I push his pants down, freeing his already hard cock, and I push him backwards into one of the chairs in the room.

He sits down, stating, “I am not sure how I am supposed to put your penis in my mouth if I am sitting in a chair.”

I just laugh. “You’ll get your turn,” I answer. “Your tentacles have tasted me, but I’ve never gotten to taste you, and I want to.”

He groans at my words. I unbutton my own pants, freeing my erection. Art looks hungrily at me, and one of his tentacles reaches out to slide along my length. I moan. Fuck, I love his tentacles.

I drop to my knees in front of him, looking up into his eyes. Art’s breath catches as he looks down at me. I marvel at the fact that I’m on my knees in front of the sexy, cute cryptid I used to have a crush on. He means so much to me, and my chest clenches with the intensity of how much I care for him.

“I have never had anyone taste me like this,” Art says, and his cock jumps a little when I look back down at it.

He looks delicious, and I lick along his length, getting his cock nice and wet as his breathing speeds up. I lift my eyes and watch his face as I take him into my mouth.

He groans, and I pull off to say, “You taste delicious, Art. Like tasting the ocean waves.”

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