Page 48 of Free

"Yeah?" Justin pants. "I love it when my beggy bottom gets all needy. Tell me, baby. What do you need?"

Him.

"You."

He's underneath me and inside me and surrounding me. All I smell is the scent of our combined sweat and arousal. All I can hear is our grunts and gasps and the slap of slick skin against wet flesh, and the thud of his balls slapping my ass.

I'm twisted on top of him in a knot of limbs where the only way you can tell where he ends, and I begin is the startling contrast of my skin and his.

Julia's light and dark.

It's fucking perfect.

"Wanna taste you as I come. Want you to come as deep in my ass as you can…please," I add, because I am his beggy bottom, and he likes to hear me whine.

Any semblance of skill and coordination has long since been replaced with heaving bodies barreling together to jump off of the abyss. With my arm so tight around him that I can angle his head with my hand, Justin captures my mouth with his.

He comes with a roar, the cock-ring taking the usual ten and turning it up to an eleven. I fist my cock hard and fast and come all over my stomach with Justin still twitching and releasing as deep in my ass as he can.

~??~

Justin doesn't push me off his lap, so I don't bother either. Even though I know I'm heavy as fuck and his dick is probably aching, and not in a good way, from wearing that ring for so long

Justin drags his fingers through my mess and sucks them into his mouth, meeting my eye in the mirror.

"Do you see how beautiful you are? Do you finally see what you do to me?"

"Yes," I concede, too blissed out to lie. "But I think you might have to show me again."

12

JUSTIN

February…

It’s done.

I am officially a Library Sciences major.

All of my credits transfer over, and since I’ve already taken most of my new degree’s required classes as electives for the old degree, I graduate in the summer of 2021, just before the baby is born.

Surprisingly, I don’t feel the slightest bit of regret over the decision. I’ll have better hours, I can work anywhere, and if I decide to be a stay-at-home dad for the first few years, the degree will be there waiting for me when I’m ready for it.

It’s not a ‘use it or lose it’ certification like something in computer sciences would be. My parents are even pleased, which makes zero sense. Why having a librarian for a son is better than having a son who’s a Professor of Literature is beyond me.

Whatever floats their boats, I suppose.

There’s a reception next week to welcome all the newbies to the tiny department, and I’m itching to go and flex my peacock feathers a bit. I’m sure to be one of the oldest in the program, and I’ll only be in it for all of five months before I’m done, but still. It’ll be fun to walk around and impress all the babies, as most professors already know who I am.

It’s that time in the school year where, yet again, I find myself splayed out on the living room floor working on lesson plans for classes I’ve gotten suckered into TA-ing and uselessly attempting to get ahead of courses that are research and essay-heavy.

Though, actually, it kinda feels like every part of the year is that part, minus that sweet, sweet spot between June through mid-July when the spring semester is over and planning for fall hasn’t yet begun.

My books are spread around me, my laptop is sitting on a stack of cushions, and Remi’s portable monitor is on the side table, which has been dragged and rearranged for my use.

“You know,” Remi says dryly. I grin ear to ear, already knowing what he’s about to say. “You do have an office…” we say together.

He lifts his eyebrow in a perfect arch of dry irritation.

---