Page 32 of Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang Us, Daddy

He stares up at me, wonderstruck, as I explode, shooting the most intense load I’ve ever had. The first shot hits Bennet on the face, and he traces his mouth with his tongue, collecting the bit that landed next to his lips. He purrs at my flavor, and the sound makes the next few spurts feel like explosions. A controlled demolition of any resistance left in me toward this thing between us.

I stroke myself long after I’ve stopped coming, not wanting to lose this moment with him. “I love you,” I whisper when I finally pull my hand away. It’s coated in cum, and because of the friction, it looks almost frothy. I want to give Bennet what Nate gave me yesterday and this morning. The knowledge that he’s safe. That he’s always safe with me. I slather it across my hip, wearing Bennet the way Dad wears me. Patting my hip, I beam at him. “Now you know you’re safe.” I lean down, kissing his forehead. “As long as I’ve got you on me, nothing’s ever gonna hurt you.” I trail kisses down the bridge of his nose, pausing at his chin long enough to lick the cum clean. His taste is potent.Strong, musky, and maybe a little sour, and I think I want to guzzle it by the gallon. Just walk around with a water bottle filled with my Bennet’s load so I can snack on him at my leisure.

“Did you mean it?” I ask once he’s finally steadied his breathing. “About Nate being our Daddy. Is that how you see him now?”

He nods. “Yeah.” He wraps an arm around my back and pulls me down against him. I’m coating him in even more of his own cum, making an absolute mess of us both, but he doesn’t seem to mind. His fingers dance along my spine, occasionally pausing to give me a tickle. “Do we really get to have this now? Like . . . no going back?”

“Never going back,” I agree. I scoot closer until I’m cradled at his side.

“Good.” He tilts his head to capture my mouth with a kiss, his tongue gently caressing mine. We kiss for what feels like hours, and I know there’s a chance I’ll probably catch his cold from it, but I don’t care. This kiss is worth everything.

When we finally pry ourselves apart, I say, “It feels wrong without him here,” because it does. I didn’t expect it, and I don’t know why it feels as strong as it did with Bennet, earlier, but it’s here, right in the middle of my heart. A tiny, Nate-shaped hole.

“He’s tired, Benj.”

“I know,” I agree, nodding. “I just miss him. We hardly spent any time together since I got back, and I don’t want him to feel left out.”

He chuckles, his fingers twitching, tickling my side. “You were pretty busy being my horny boy, I’m sure he’ll understand.” Bennet studies me for a moment, lost in his head. I wait for some indication of what he’s thinking, and thankfully, he doesn’t make me wait too long. He grabs his phone and brings up the camera app. “If you’re really torn up about it, we could do something to make up for it.”

I arch an eyebrow. “What are you thinking?”

He grabs his phone from the nightstand and brings up his camera. “Do you think you can go again?”

“Baby,” I say, waggling my eyebrows. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

CHAPTER 8

NATE

I’ve been in bed for the last hour, trying to hold down the contents of my stomach as it spins. It feels like someone’s shoved their hands inside my stomach, and they’re twisting my guts with all their might. The only relief I’ve found is in the sound of Bennet and Benji’s animalistic voices as they explore each other in the next room. Their cries and moans have been so loud, I’m surprised no one’s sent a cop to perform a welfare check. There have been a few times I thought I heard my name, but it’s probably just this flu causing me to hallucinate. Yet, there’s this tiny little voice in my head, saying “What if I’m not?” It’s a ridiculous question. Why would they mention me while having sex?

They’re having sex without me.

There’s a queer feeling in the pit of my stomach, similar but stronger to the feeling I had when I had to watch Lindsay fall into a whirlwind romance with my son’s friend, Fiona. It was jealousy then, so it must be jealousy now, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out what—or who—I’m jealous of.

“Nate,” my Bennet calls out, making my heart slam in my chest. God. The way he said it makes it sound like his pleasure is down to me. It’s a silly thought, but it’s one that makes me blush.I want to get out of this bed and go see them, but I can barely move. Even if I could force myself out of this room, they don’t need their old man watching them. My only goal these last few months was to get them to a place of normalcy again. If they’re pushing personal boundaries on their own, the best thing I can do is silently cheer them on from the sidelines. If they need me, they’ll ask for me.

I reach for my phone, my body aching as I stretch. Each inch feels like a mile, but once I’ve got my hand around the phone, it’s like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I unlock it and stare at my background—at my beautiful Benji—and smile. Their moans play in concert, each cry more beautiful than the last, and the longer I stare at his penis on the screen, the easier it is to picture what they’re doing. I still can’t believe I agreed to setting his erection as my background, but I think I’d do anything if it meant making him happy.

Bennet’s probably lying down, because Benji wouldn’t want his other half to overexert himself when he’s sick. I don’t think they’re ready for oral sex, so they’re more than likely masturbating or frotting. A mental picture of Benji knelt over Bennet flashes through my head. Benji’s got his hands wrapped around their cocks, stroking them frantically. Beads of sweat have formed on his brow, and he looks up from best friend’s cock long enough to look me in the eyes like a good boy. Likemygood boy.

“Oh, God, Dad,” Benji calls out from the other room, making my body shudder. I know he probably meant to say Bennet’s name, but the sound of my name coated in his pleasure sends a chill down my spine. No one’s looked at me sexually in years. My wife certainly hasn’t, not that I’ve given her much attention either.

I pull up a picture of them side by side. A selfie they took for me a few weeks back. Their smiling faces are so similar.So beautiful. As I stare at their faces, their voices fill my room through the vents, sounding like the world’s most sordid air conditioner. I swipe to the right, and another picture of Benji's cock fills my phone screen. Warmth pools in my cheeks when I feel myself stiffen. I swipe back to the smiling selfie from before, because it feels a bit strange to stare at his penis while mine is rising like the sun.

Dammit.

I haven’t come in months. I’ve got a load that could keep a starving man nurtured for years, and this is my only chance to tame the beast, as one might say. I’m not opposed to masturbating with my boys in the next room, but if I do, it’ll feel like I’m rubbing one out while thinking about them, and that would be depraved. Moral corruption at its finest.

I slide my hand beneath my pajamas—the ones with their initials all over—and wrap it around my hardening shaft. God. It’s been so long since I’ve been this hard. Usually, during the rare instances I’m able to rise to the occasion, I’m half-hard at best, and masturbation involves me carefully stroking the flailing snake until it eventually spits. Now, I’m harder than I’ve ever been.

I give myself an exploratory stroke, waiting for the moment my dick remembers its sole purpose in life is to be an unending disappointment, but it doesn’t happen. Even when I take my hand off it—an act that was once the death blow to my erection—it remains aimed high to the sky, refusing to back down. I slide my pajamas and underwear down to my thighs and stare at my cock, almost daring it to go soft.

“Nate,” Bennet cries out, and I watch, amused, as my cock jolts at the sound of my name. Bennet calls out my name, and my dick twitches again.

I shouldn’t.

I really, really shouldn’t.

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