Jack raised his wrist so that De’on could read the message that had just come in on his watch. De’on slowed his fucking, holding on to Jack’s wrist to read the small print on the display, said something like “Huh”, and then went back to hitting Jack’s ass from behind.
The lads usually stuck to a No Devices rule during sex, but Jack hadn’t even thought to take off his watch because this fuck was fairly last minute, and not in the bedroom.
Jack had been in Salt Lake on business for two days and was supposed to have flown back in yesterday, but August thunderstorms over the Midwest had delayed the flight. He finally made it back a day and a half late. Meanwhile De’on was flying out to Atlanta in a few hours, so this was suddenly their only window to fuck for the whole week.
De’on collected Jack curbside at arrivals and circled back around to park in the airport garage and looked for a parking spot as far from the entrance as possible. He backed his truck into a stall between two cars that looked dusty.
Jack's right foot was on the ground, and his left shin was raised and resting on the tailgate of Dee’s truck. De’on opened Jack’s carry-on, grabbed a sweater to cushion Jack's left knee and started rooting around, looking for lube in the toiletries bag.
“Where's your lube?” asked De’on. There was an ever so slight hesitation before Jack replied “I didn't pack any. It was a work trip without you, and it was only supposed to be overnight.” He instantly wished he hadn’t added the last bit, but De'on didn't seem to notice or care and was now stretching to reach his own bag and grabbed lube out of the side flap.
Jack was stressing about what he had said about not taking lube on the trip. The thing was, he had in fact packed lube in one of those miniature shampoo bottles. He hadn’t intended to lie to De’on. He wasn’t sure why he said that to De'on. He probably just panicked. And now he wondered if De’on was testing him, to see if he’d been fucking some Mormon boy in Salt Lake. In fact he hadn't, but it had definitely come close on last year's version of this trip, with a new colleague from the Seattle office. Mutual blow jobs had been exchanged, and the Seattle guy was clearly hoping for more this year. But Jack had held back. The guy was cute, but Jack was already aware just how addicted he was becoming to Dee’s take-charge approach, and which the other guy definitely didn't have.
Dee's mind, meanwhile, wandered to something Salt Lake adjacent, but in this case, a wonderful encounter with a Mormon missionary on a layover in Tokyo a few years ago. He was shopping in a 7-11 when he got cruised by a corn-fed Iowa farm boy. The lad started chatting De’on up, and asked if they could hang out because he was desperate to speak English with someone after three months of only hearing Japanese.
De’on knew full well that the guy would have been able to chat with his missionary companion but invited him back to his room. Just to chat, of course. The guy talked constantly about how much he was missing his girlfriend and it didn't take long for De'on to suggest he could help him out with that.
It started with the idea that they could jerk off together but somehow De'on found himself rimming the Mormon, and then fucking him. After insisting he'd never done anything like that before, his ass opened so wide and so fast De’on was left thinking of the Grand Canyon. But what De’on really remembered about him was how soft his lips were. It was like kissing marshmallows.
Back in the garage, Jack and De'on had opened the truck doors for a bit of extra privacy but it wasn’t necessary. No one came anywhere near them for the seven minutes it took them both to nut. Jack pulled his pants back up, and turned around to kiss his boyfriend. He was quite happy knowing that De’on would now be walking through the airport smelling slightly of cum, and shouldn’t have any immediate urge to fuck a stranger.
De’on went to put his lube back in his bag, paused, and then handed the bottle to Jack.“I won’t be needing that. Take it home for me.”
Then he handed Jack the keys to his truck, gave him one last kiss, and just before he started walking towards Departures he said: “Don’t reply to that text. I’ll deal with Peter.”
Jack waited until De’on was out of the parking garage before starting the drive home. He’d driven a pick-up before but Dee’s was on the larger side and it was his first time driving it. He was more than a little anxious and drove home very carefully. It was a neat feeling to be driving his boyfriend’s truck, but he couldn’t seem to shake Breland’s Don’t Touch My Truck playing in the back of his mind.
He made it home without a problem and started unpacking. First thing he did was put the bottle of lube on the table on Dee’s side of the bed, then he started unpacking his own carry-on, and when he got to the liquids bag he held the miniature shampoo bottle in his hand for a minute and thought about throwing it out before deciding to put it at the back of his sock drawer.
He probably would have just ignored the whole issue, but De’on had handed him his own lube and made a point of saying he didn’t need it because Jack wasn’t on the trip with him. Jack sighed, and realized it was time they had a chat about whether they were going to be doing the monogamy thing.
Jack hadn’t had sex with anyone else since their first serious hook-up weekend in Chicago. And he didn’t get the sense that De’on was having sex outside of their relationship. De’on always talked about Timmy in the past tense for example, and he was always ready (and very physically able) to fuck Jack at a moment’s notice. In fact, Jack was pretty sure that De’on was much less promiscuous than he was himself. It was likely going to be Jack who was going to have a harder time with monogamy than De’on.
Neither of them were prudes or sexually uptight. De’on was a hunk of a man and great top, but he definitely wasn’t a fuckboy. Jack, on the other hand, was pretty much your text book definition of a slut and was already starting to get urges to enjoy some more varied dick by the six-month mark when De’on had raised the issue of him making all of their sexual decisions for them. It had certainly kept Jack’s attention. Jack was glad to not have to go out and look for sex, but at the same time he enjoyed being hit on by studs. That still happened, of course, and now he was getting worried about coming across as a cock-tease if he didn’t put out.
It’s not like they had been totally exclusive. They’d already had the threesome with Peter, for example. Thinking about that reminded Jack about the text message from Peter that had arrived when De’on was fucking him behind the truck.
It was no surprise that it was Jack that Peter had texted when he was coming back into town for the weekend. There were more than a few problems with this.
First, he had messaged Jack alone, not De’on, or the two of them together. He should have known there was no way that Jack was meeting up with, or hooking up with him without De’on.
Second, Jack had seen Peter and Timmy coming out of a garden shed, looking all hot and bothered, at Phil’s Pride Party, despite Timmy dating Peter’s brother Thom.
Third, De’on made it really clear when Jack had told him about the shed stuff that he wanted to punish Peter for whatever had apparently happened. De’on might no longer be fucking Timmy but he didn’t like the idea of Peter nailing his own brother’s boyfriend.
And all of this is made even more complicated by the fact that De’on used to fuck Timmy weekly before Jack came on the scene, so De’on wasn’t exactly popular with Thom, and Timmy wasn’t Jack’s favourite twink either.
De’on flew back into town on Saturday morning, and Jack was there, curbside at the airport to pick him up. Up until the last minute Jack hadn’t decided if he was going to drive his SUV, or Dee’s truck.
Did he want to look like a housewife collecting her husband in her own car (which would then mean De’on would be riding home in the passenger seat), or like the hot new girlfriend driving daddy’s truck? Were they already at the old married couple stage, or was it still fresh and exciting?
Jack drove the truck. And De’on, who was already standing in the arrivals drive-thru, smiled to himself when he saw his petite boyfriend perched high behind the steering wheel as if trying to reach the pedals, and driving his truck slightly too cautiously. He liked the look and feel of all of that. Naturally once De’on had his bag in the back, Jack slid over to the passenger side, and De’on took the driver’s seat, which felt right, literally and metaphorically.
They spent the rest of that day in some protracted foreplay scenes. Once the laundry was started they sat on the couch in one of their favourite positions, with Jack in Dee’s lap, facing him, kissing and playing with each other's nipples.
Later, when they got back from groceries De’on lay back in bed with Jack’s ass in his face, and rimmed him like it was their anniversary, but with their hands entwined so that Jack couldn’t stroke his cock. Actually, either cock.
And while the steaks were marinating, De’on gave Jack the gift he had got for him in Atlanta. A bluetooth-enabled vibrating buttplug. He’d already downloaded the app to his phone, so all he needed to do was pair the device. He spent about 20 minutes teasing Jack’s hole with the plug and once it was in he started working his way through all of the settings in the app.
Eventually he left it on Sound Activated, so it only vibrated if there was enough noise picked up by Dee’s phone, which meant Jack never knew when it would be triggered.
Jack was starting to wonder if he was going to get fucked tonight when the doorbell rang (which also resulted in his plug vibrating).
He opened the door and much to his surprise found Peter standing there, looking both excited and nervous, and holding a bottle of vodka. This was looking very much like their next threesome.
Please consider hitting the like button on this post or any you read (assuming you did in fact like what you read) because it can mean a lot to writers.
Follow me for free, if you’re curious, plus that’s a sexy thing to do.
If you really want to make me horny, hit the Subscribe button (also free with me).
And if you ReStack we’ll basically be dating. I promise I won’t spam you, but it might make me jerk off thinking about you.
I sometimes also add a button below in case you are interested in donating a buck or two toward toys, but that is in no way expected.
Hot story... where's it going to go? Next