Christopher jerked his chin, indicating that Jesse should
follow him. He moved around the corner, and then sat on the floor along the
wall opposite the millworks. “It’s the warmest spot,” he explained. “The ovens
are on the opposite side of the wall, and they’re not cold yet.”
Jesse was surprised to find that Christopher was right, and
they leaned against the warm wall, sitting side by side in the shadows with
knees bent as they ate their cookies. He could hear the noise of the park far
away, the laughs that echoed over the pond, the rumble of strollers and voices,
and over it all and much closer was the slapping noise of the wheel throwing
the water. It was a wet, rhythmic sound that reminded him of the noise of his
sweaty balls slapping a man’s ass while he fucked him. A lusty, satisfying
sound.
Jesse cleared his throat as his cock responded to the idea.
It’d been a long time. A really long time since he’d gone that far with a man.
Twelve years, eleven months, and twenty-odd days if his quick math was right.
It’d been since Edoardo and Italy and the week that changed everything.
“I didn’t mean to open a can of worms by bringing up your
family.”
Jesse looked at Christopher, noting his green eyes were
flecked with a sharp, golden brown, reminding him of the gaspeite he’d received
a shipment of the other day.
“It’s not a big deal. My father and I are past the worst of
our troubles. Let’s just say he didn’t enjoy the way I chose to come out, but
he’s made his peace with it.”
At his words, Christopher relaxed next to him, and Jesse
realized that despite their flirtation, he hadn’t made it absolutely clear to
Christopher that he was into men until this moment. He remembered all too well
from his own less-experienced days the number of ways a man can talk himself
out of knowing the object of his lust was also queer.
Christopher’s lips were lush and red. Jesse watched as he
licked them, gazing at Jesse’s own. Jesse scooted a little so his thigh pressed
against Christopher’s. He didn’t know for sure exactly what signals he was
giving off, but he wanted to be absolutely clear. He planned to kiss
Christopher just as soon as the anticipation had ratcheted up so high that he
couldn’t take it anymore, and he was ready and willing to run with whatever
response he got. However far Christopher wanted to take it. It had been too
long since he’d allowed himself to fully let go.
“So were they religious or just kind of bigoted?”
Christopher asked, and Jesse had a hard time pulling his mind back to the
conversation and away from where he wanted the night to end.
“It was less about me being queer and more about what people
thought about me being queer. For a long time, he thought I was just rebelling
so I could humiliate him. A ‘poor little rich kid’ scheme to get attention or
something.”
Jesse braced for the question, tempted to deflect it quickly
by asking Christopher about
his
family’s response to
his coming out—if he was out. But he decided not to, because it was easier to
know now just how big of a problem it was going to be.
“Poor little rich kid? Your father had money, I take it? And
he thought you were…what? Sexually attracted to men to embarrass him? I don’t
really get it.”
“Me either, but as the founder of Birch’s Biscuits &
Bakeries, my dad felt like having a queer in the family didn’t meet the wholesome,
down-home image he wanted to cultivate as part of his marketing scheme. He
might have been onto something, because I wasn’t exactly quiet about my love of
dick during my teenage years.”
Jesse popped the last piece of gingerbread man into his
mouth, remembering the way he’d challenged his dad in so many ways. Streaks of
white in his hair that he’d then dyed vibrant pink, declaring to all who would
listen how much he wanted to screw cute guys, and—unlike many men who were
naturally fey—he’d purposely put a sashay into his walk and a flap to his
wrist, both of which he’d retired as he’d grown more secure in his sexual
identity. “Hell, I’ll admit it. I purposely pushed some buttons. Given where we
live, I’m lucky I didn’t get physically hurt for my bullshit.”
“Wait, I mean, I want to come back to this, but your father
owns…really? The great usurper to crowns that once belonged to White Lily and
Bisquick? Your father is the baking mix king of the world?”
Jesse sang the commercial. “‘We’ve got cakes and cookies,
muffins and bread, just tear open a package and see the smiles spread! Birch’s
Biscuits & Bakeries—we’re not just biscuits anymore!’”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.” Jesse tried to gauge Christopher’s reaction. “I
wouldn’t call him a king, though. More like a baron. Or a duke. Or a mogul.
Yes, let’s go with a mogul. A biscuit mogul. It’d be hilarious if it wasn’t
true.”
“Poor little rich kid. You weren’t kidding. About the rich
part, I mean. Not the poor part. I wouldn’t know about that. I mean, I know
about being poor, but not about you being pitiful. Wow. I’m totally babbling. I
sound like an idiot.”
Jesse chuckled. “I’m used to it. I try to keep from
startling people too much with the reveal. Hey, surprise! I’m filthy rich! Hope
you still like me!”
Christopher laughed. “Do people really stop liking you
because of that?”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Well, people
are
surprising.
That’s one thing you can count on them to be.” Christopher grew quiet and
seemed to be thinking something over. “When Darla said you give enough money to
the park…”
“She meant my family.”
“The Birch Family Bald Eagle Sanctuary at Smoky Mountain
Dreams.”
Jesse nodded.
“I guess I should’ve figured you were at least related, but
it never crossed my mind.”
“Why should it? I’m glad it didn’t.”
Christopher ate more of his cookie. “So you don’t work for
your father, and neither does your sister. I take it the family business gene
didn’t get passed down to the two of you?”
“My sister married the son of my father’s CFO. He a nice
guy. Paul Newton. Heard of him? No? Well, because of that she’s still in pretty
deep. I wanted nothing to do with it, and my father was fine with my choice. I
caused him enough grief over the years that he’s mainly just happy if I stay
out of it all.”
“Because of how you came out?”
“Because of who I am,” Jesse said, remembering the fights,
the recriminations, the endless sense of not being what his father wanted, and
the inner rage at the idea that maybe he really was the one who should change. “Selling
my shares and future position in the company to Paul for a lifetime annuity was
the best thing I’ve ever done, even if my father initially took offense at that
too. It was worth it to get out from under his thumb. I have more money than I’ll
ever need from the sale anyway.”
“So…” Christopher paused. “I guess we both come from milling
families, in a way.”
Jesse grinned. “Looks like we have even more in common than
we thought.”
In the low light Jesse could see the heat in Christopher’s
eyes. Jesse’s cock thickened in his jeans. He wanted to grab fistfuls of
Christopher’s hair, and pull Christopher’s mouth to his own. Taste his tongue
and lick his white teeth, and kiss his way down Christopher’s long, pale neck
until he could get his hands up under Christopher’s shirt to tweak his nipples.
There was no time like the present.
Christopher’s eyes lingered on Jesse’s lips, and despite the
tightening thrill of anticipation, Jesse couldn’t resist saying, “Given my
family’s resources and the desire to avoid scandal—especially since my dad’s
old enough now that a heart attack would seriously diminish the fun of giving
him one—I’ll have to ask you to sign a waiver acknowledging that you’re sober
and consenting before I kiss you.”
“Wait—what? Sign a—you’re going to kiss me?”
“I’m kidding,” Jesse said, and almost laughed at Christopher’s
crestfallen expression. “About the waiver,” he whispered, and then leaned in.
Christopher’s lips were soft, and he responded eagerly,
deepening the kiss. The taste of ginger and icing mingled with Christopher’s
own flavor, and Jesse moved in for more. He didn’t know if it was the chill as
the ovens cooled, or the fact that he’d been abstinent for almost two months,
but fire seemed to spark between them, and in a desperate rush he greedily
kissed and bit. He moved down to latch onto Christopher’s neck, sucking hard
enough that Christopher gasped and arched before diving for his mouth again.
Jesse jammed his hands up under Christopher’s shirt and coat, sliding his
fingers over soft skin and the sparse hair on Christopher’s chest.
Christopher panted and squirmed, moving against him
urgently. Jesse thought it must have been a while for him too, because he was
whimpering in Jesse’s ear, and grabbing fistfuls of Jesse’s hair to pull him
back up for another searing kiss. Their breath co-mingled and puffed into the
air around them, a hot dampness that seemed to settle on Jesse’s nose and
eyelashes. He growled a little, his teeth digging into Christopher’s ear, and
then he gently bit his way down the side of his neck again.
“God,” Christopher moaned.
Jesse found Christopher’s nipples with his fingers and
tweaked them before coming back up to suck on his full bottom lip and dive into
his mouth for another taste of his tongue. Christopher pushed against his
shoulders, and Jesse went down to the floor, dragging Christopher on top of
him, the weight hitting him in all the necessary places, especially Christopher’s
hard cock, which pressed urgently against Jesse’s.
“Mmm.” Jesse rubbed his fingers over Christopher’s hair,
loving the smooth, straight feel of it, and how it ran through his fingers like
short stalks of silk.
Christopher moved against him, the sound of their jeans
rubbing together filling the mill with a
ruch-ruch
sound. Jesse moved his hands from the soft skin of Christopher’s back down to
his jeans, squeezed his ass, and then slid beneath his cotton underwear to grip
his flesh. Christopher bucked against him, eyes closed in the dim light of the
mill. His head was back, exposing his neck, and Jesse moved in to suck and kiss
there as they rutted together on the hard mill floor.
“Can I? I just…” Christopher panted, reaching between them
and going for Jesse’s zipper.
They’d gone from zero to wherever this was in minutes, and
Jesse didn’t want it to stop. It was exhilarating and fun. It was hot, and
Christopher’s mouth was wonderful, his hands were firm, and he seemed to know
what he wanted and what he was doing. Jesse loved sex without bullshit. He
loved sex that just got to the goddamn point.
He nodded and reached down too, batting Christopher’s hand
away to get his own zipper undone while Christopher did the same. Jesse groaned
as soon as he saw Christopher’s dick—cut, rosy-tipped, and with a pearl of
pre-cum at the slit, long enough for Jesse to be impressed, but not so thick that
Jesse would pity any guy that Christopher wanted to slam it into.
They pushed their pants down just below their hips, enough
that their cocks and balls could get the attention they were aching for. In
other circumstances the cool air of the mill on his dick might have made it
recoil and shrink, but he was too horny—too eager to get whatever he could from
the cute, sweet guy who seemed completely bent on the same thing he was. Thank
God.
Christopher licked his lips. Panting, his tongue gently
touched the middle of his top lip as his face reflected the usual mix of want
and fear that Jesse was accustomed to seeing on a man’s face once they got a
look at Jesse’s cock. He wasn’t incredibly long, but he was thick, and he knew
that for a lot of guys that was as much of a draw as it was a terror. For
Christopher it seemed to be a draw, because he made a noise in the back of his
throat and fell on Jesse like a starveling, his hot mouth open and sucking
Jesse like he was desperate for it.
Jesse’s hips drew up, and he huffed out an exclamation as
Christopher’s wet mouth descended on his dick and then back up again. “Christ,”
Jesse muttered. “You don’t mess around do you?”
Christopher’s answer was a hard suck on the head of his
cock, and then an attempt to take him deeper, gagging a little, which made
Jesse’s nipples ache under his shirt. He grabbed the hair at the nape of
Christopher’s neck, and didn’t push him back down, but held on tight.
Christopher whined, taking in quite a lot of cock by opening wide and letting
it slide into his throat. Jesse’s eyes rolled up at the gentle, spongey give of
Christopher’s soft palate, and he couldn’t help but hump up.
Christopher responded to his movement by grabbing his own
cock and jerking it, and Jesse wanted to taste the pre-cum he could see
glistening in a slow string down the length of it.
“C’mere, you.” He pulled Christopher off with a pop that
made him shudder. He wanted to grab Christopher’s head and push his mouth back
down again. Instead, he urged him up to straddle Jesse’s chest, his long dick
aiming at Jesse’s mouth. He licked the tip, tasted the slick head, and sucked
him in, working his lips up and down.
Christopher fell forward, fucking into Jesse’s mouth with a
chant of, “Oh, oh, oh my God, oh my fucking
God
.”
Jesse couldn’t resist. He grabbed Christopher’s ass, feeling
its lush, plump cheeks moving, and pulled them apart to graze his fingers over
Christopher’s hole. Just as he suspected Christopher reacted with unabashed
wanting
.
He pulled his dick free of Jesse’s mouth, tugged roughly at
his own balls, and said, “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”
Jesse grabbed his ass and sucked him back in, fingering at
the rim of Christopher’s hole, feeling the tight ring clench and spasm.
Christopher scrambled against him, whimpering, “I’m gonna, I’m
gonna,” but Jesse held him tight, lodging Christopher’s cock in his mouth and
swallowing the cum that unloaded in bursts accompanied by Christopher’s gasping
cries. “Fucking
hell
,” Christopher moaned,
shuddering and still pulsing in Jesse’s mouth as Jesse sucked him clean,
savoring the taste, the weight of a dick on his tongue, and the shiver of
Christopher’s asshole against his finger.