Page 69 of The County Fair Queen

"Please," I moaned, grinding against his palm. "Rivers, please."

"You looked so beautiful tonight," he said. His fingers dug into my skin, the scrape of his stubble almost unbearable. I arched my back, pressing against him. It wasn't intentional; I was running on need, not logic. Thankfully, he didn't seem to mind. He rocked forward, his dick wedged between my cloth-covered cheeks. "You look beautiful every night, but tonight… God, Phillip." His lips crashed against my neck, parting to allow the briefest touch of his tongue. "Look at me, Firecracker." It wasn't a plea. It was a demand. A commanding voice, like he knew I needed it to be. I spun around slowly until we were face to face, foreheads almost touching.

"Hey, Riv," I whispered.

"Hey, baby," he said, grazing the length of my cheekbone with his thumb. The bravado that encapsulated him only moments ago had faded. In its place, was the vision of his younger self. The boy who ran.

"Come back to me," I said.

He closed his eyes. "Still here. I just… I might not be very good at this. You're the first man I've ever…" His eyes darted down, heat flushing across his cheeks. "I just want to be good for you. I want this to be special."

"It already is."

"No, I just—" He sighed, shaking his head. "Never mind, it's silly."

"Tell me," I said. "You can tell me anything."

"I don't want you to forget me. To regret this."

"Never," I promised, lifting my hand to cup his face. "Do you hear me? Never, Rivers." Sliding my hand down his back until I reached his ass, I took him into my hand and squeezed. Christ. There it was. The object of my lust for the last two weeks. It felt just as perfect as I'd imagined it would. Soft and full, with a light dusting of hair that covered his cheeks. His breath was warm against my face, and as he pulled me to him, I rolled my hips forward, grinding our dicks together. "I fucking swear it."

In a frenzy, he jerked his hand down, tearing off his boxer-briefs before doing the same with mine. He spun us around and pushed me back, sending me toppling down onto the bed. Standing above me, he drank in the sight of me; every inch of imperfection laid bare before him. And then he took me. Right there, on my childhood bed, in a room filled with bits and pieces of my past. Trinkets that summarized the story of my youth.

On the nightstand, there was a small rainbow patch Aunt Lurlene crocheted after I came out.

On the walls, were posters of men I'd lusted over at night, though none held a candle to the man in front of me.

In one of the dresser drawers, was a faded pink sash that read, Muscadine Queen - 2001.

On the baseboard, was etched a childhood declaration that was just as true as it had ever been.

I gave myself to him without question. Without hesitation. And as he took what was his, I held his gaze for as long as I could stand it. For as long as he allowed it. My legs over his shoulders, his breath hot against my cheek.

The moment his dick made contact with my hole, I came to my senses. Jesus. Was he trying to go in dry?

"Riv, baby, hold your horses." He stared down at me, his eyebrows meeting in the center of his face.

"Am I doing it wrong?"

I reached down and took his cock in my hand. It felt even thicker than it looked. He was going to rip me fucking open. "This," I said, giving it a shake for emphasis, "is essentially a third leg. I could very well die if you tried to go in dry. Not happening." He cocked his head to the side and stared at me like my words made no sense. "Have you never had anal sex before?"

He blushed. "I told you, I'm new at this. I don't know what I'm doing here, Firecracker."

"Okay." I sat up, and the fear in his eyes was undeniable.

"I'm a fast learner, though. Just give me a chance. I'll make it good for you. I promise."

Did he think I was going to kick him out? For God's sake, the man was a god, I wasn't letting him go until I tasted every inch of him. "Lay on your back and spread your legs."

His eyes bulged. "Phillip, I don't know if I'm ready for that."

"I'm not asking you to bottom," I cooed, kissing his chest. "I'm asking you to let me show you how to get me ready. There's an art to it." He leaned back, propping himself up on my pillows, but he had his knees pulled together, hiding himself away from me. I reached forward and tapped his knee. "Knock, knock." Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, Rivers spread his legs, giving me an unobstructed view ofeverything.Jesus. He was like a work of art. A fine wine that just got better with age—not that I had a memory of his younger self to compare it to, but still. I rubbed my hands up and down the sides of his thighs as I drank the sight of him in.

He was hairier than I expected, but it was a welcome surprise. A thick bush of black hair surrounded his cock, and even with a forest surrounding it, it still stood proudly like a tree amongst weeds. He was uncut, which was another welcome surprise.Living in London, the vast majority of men I'd been with had been uncut, and I'd grown accustomed to the adorable hood. Rivers' was pulled back, the skin circling halfway down the head. As I reached for his cock, his eyes widened like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Like the thought of my hand on his dick was some unexpected turn of events he never could have planned for.

I wrapped my hand around his shaft. Did I whimper when I realized how thick it was? Perhaps. Did it deter my desire to sit on it and ride Rivers Rivera until dawn? Honestly, a little, but I was a champ, and I was nothing if not resilient.

Leaning down, I placed a kiss on the underside of his cock, right where the foreskin ended and the head peaked out like the morning sun over the horizon. The moment my mouth touched his skin, a pearl of pre-cum spilled over, coating my lips. Pulling away, I looked into his eyes and traced my tongue around my mouth, collecting every drop.

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