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Title: The Past
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not the movie, not the real guys, not intended to infringe on anything but the bounds of decency.
Summary: Someone from the past shows up and threatens the future. But don’t worry. The intrepid McKnights have everything under control.
The Past
When he heard the knock at the door, McKnight figured it was another antique dealer there to look at the ugly thing.
The ugly thing was truly the most hideous piece of furniture ever known to man, and the last antique left to be sold in the cottage. Everything had either been sold or Linda had decided it should stay put. The ugly thing had been handmade by someone in the family before the Civil War, hence was a genuine antique. Badly carved with bunches of misshapen grapes and tangled vines, badly stained so that the uneven colors ranged from mud brown to shit brown, and badly proportioned at the height of something in between a buffet and an armoire, the ugly thing had a structure so ungainly it hardly had any storage space within.
Grimes had been half-heartedly trying to sell it for over a year. He was reluctant because he’d grown fond of it, the way Charlie Brown was fond of the Christmas tree no one else wanted, but there was no hope for the ugly thing. No one wanted it, except for Grimes, and even he called it ugly, and cursed its bulk and the way it took up so much room in the parlor. McKnight had suggested chopping it up and burning it on several occasions, which always earned him a smack on the head from Linda and a rueful frown from Grimes. “That would be like burning a member of the family,” he’d say.
The woman at the door, however, was not an antique dealer.
She had long brown hair with obvious blond streaks and was wearing too much make-up and too little blouse. The low cut of the blouse was partially masked by the thick brown envelope she clutched to her chest. If she’d been chewing gum, McKnight was sure she would have popped it when he opened the door.
“I’m looking for John,” she said.
She did not look like one of Linda’s teacher friends. She did not look like one of the ladies from the yoga club.
“I’m Angie,” she said.
McKnight asked her into the hall, and went upstairs to where Grimes and Linda were scraping paint off the floorboards in what used to be Mildred’s bedroom. Grimes was kneeling in the corner with his ass facing McKnight, so it took McKnight a couple of seconds to get his thoughts together. McKnight cleared his throat.
“Your ex-wife is at the door,” McKnight said.
Grimes got up and banged his head on the windowsill.
* * *
Angie sat on the couch and fidgeted with the strap of her purse. Old houses like this creeped her out. Especially the old furniture, and especially the weird, giant ugly thing facing the couch. The couch was new, so why the hell would John want to look at something like that from a new couch? Why the hell would John want something like that in his house at all? It was a nice house, though. Lots of property around it. He had to be doing okay for himself.
He’d frowned when she broke it to him that she wasn’t actually his ex-wife. She hadn’t expected him to be happy that they weren’t really divorced yet, but she hadn’t expected him to be so quiet. He used to get more upset about stuff. He got all serious and bit his lip. “Wait in the parlor,” he said, and went into the other room, which he called the living room, to look over the papers with the older lady.
Angie looked around. So this was a parlor? She didn’t think she’d ever been in one before. They must be a southern thing. Or really old. The big guy came in and handed her a cup of coffee, two sugars. She could hear John and the lady talking. Bits of it anyway.
“What do you mean, you’re not divorced?”
“The paperwork wasn’t filed properly.”
“Exactly how does one misfile divorce papers?”
“I don’t know. She wants me to sign now so she can get married to some guy.”
“Let me read that page.”
“It’s standard divorce stuff.”
“It says you never… you know.”
“Well what do you expect it to say? We had sex every night and were deliriously happy together?”
“Shh!”
Angie took a sip of the coffee. It was very good.
The big guy stared at her like he didn’t like her.
“You’re in the army, huh?” she said, so it wouldn’t be so quiet.
He nodded. “I'm a Ranger. Colonel.”
Wow. That was a pretty high rank, she figured. She couldn’t tell from the clothes. They looked like regular army clothes to her.
“John was a Ranger, too. We served together in Africa. And the Gulf.”
Angie had not known that the United States had wars in Africa. She’d heard of the Gulf though. She wasn’t totally ignorant. And she’d known John was a Ranger, which, as far as she could tell, meant he had to move here for some sort of special training. Seemed sort of weird that John made friends with a colonel. As far as she knew, he hadn’t gone very far in the army. The big guy, Danny he’d said his name was, he seemed pretty pleased about the whole army thing.
Angie looked at him closely. He was quite a bit older than John, and quite a bit bigger. He had a crew cut that was graying a bit, and he had a wicked scar on his neck, but other than that he looked like a regular guy. But then, lots of people looked regular and weren't.
Then she leaned over to look at John in the other room. She could just see him, sitting on the couch, reading the papers. His hair was long. It looked good on him. He looked good all over, actually. Kind of buff. Angie didn’t like the glasses on him, though. They looked kind of gay.
She looked back at Danny. He looked far too comfortable to be a visitor in the house.
No way, she thought. John and Danny? Never.
Although, it would explain the lousy sex…
* * *
McKnight did not like the way Angie was looking at him. She was looking like she knew all about him. And Grimes. And everything.
“So,” Angie said, “you’re John’s friend.”
Shit, McKnight thought. Busted. “Linda is my sister,” he said quickly. And he blathered something about Linda and Grimes and it sounded really lame even to him. Who did this woman think she was, showing up without warning and ordering Grimes to sign divorce papers? Grimes had stood up for himself and told her he'd already signed them, years before, and then she hummed and hawed about paperwork errors. Stupid. And dangerous.
McKnight had to make this woman believe her almost-ex-husband was sleeping with Linda. But when you looked at Linda next to Angie, the age thing really stood out.
Linda, even thought she was McKnight's sister, looked better. Not younger. She was definitely a woman of a certain age, but she wasn't trying not to be. Even in a baggy shirt and work pants, she looked dignified. Angie looked like she was out to seduce anyone who crossed her path, but McKnight could smell cheap perfume from the other end of the couch, and her make-up was caked a little around her eyes. Linda never wore make-up all over her skin like that. That was probably why her skin looked so good for her age.
Shit. Ten minutes in a room with this woman and McKnight was starting to think like a chick.
* * *
Angie could see Linda. She was sitting on the chair in the other room with her arms crossed over her chest, looking stern like a teacher or something. She had to be twenty years older than John. Maybe twenty-five. There was no way she was John’s girlfriend. She knew John too well to believe that. What a lame attempt to hide obvious homosexual behavior.
She looked at Danny again. He looked nervous, but he still looked like a man sitting on his own couch. Maybe she didn’t know John as well as she thought.
There had been a rumor in high school about John and that Brent guy. Most kids thought they were just smoking a lot of dope after school, but there were a few who claimed to be in the know. She’d told them they were stupid. There was no way John was a fag. On the night of graduation, when John was a little drunk, she’d made her move. He was shy – or that’s what she’d thought at the time. Shy, not really experienced. It was sort of cute, the way he fumbled and didn’t know what he was doing. It was obvious he was a virgin. Sort of flattering to think he’d saved himself for her.
Sometimes you think shit like that to make yourself to believe whatever you want to believe.
All these years later, it seemed foolish. She must have had some ego to think a cute guy like that would keep himself pure for her just because she was such hot stuff. Jesus.
He was cuter now. Really cute. Nice body. More muscles, less baby fat. His chest had filled out. His arms were bigger. And his face… he’d really grown into his looks. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so rude to him when they broke up.
Not that he wasn’t rude to her first, accusing her of lying about the skipped period. That was totally not true. She really did think she was knocked up, and her mom would have killed her if she had a kid without a husband, and it wasn’t her fault she wasn’t pregnant. And maybe she had been pregnant after all. Maybe it was a miscarriage or something. That made her feel a bit victimized, which made her feel vindicated, which made her feel better about not filing the paperwork properly.
She leaned forward and looked at John again. Actually, the glasses suited him. And the way he pushed his hair off his face was cute.
The older lady kept looking stern. Who would want to sleep with someone who looked like their high school teacher? That was just sick. Angie looked back at Danny. He was a lot older than John as well. A Colonel, if you’re in the army, isn’t that like your boss or your commander or whatever? That would be like fucking the high school principal. Yuck. Gross.
He had really nice eyes, though.
* * *
McKnight could usually make snap decisions under difficult circumstances, but this situation had him baffled, mostly because he couldn’t decide whether it mattered or not what Angie thought about him and Grimes and Linda. It wasn’t as if she’d want to tell anyone, would she? It would have to be a little embarrassing to admit that your marriage didn’t work out because your husband was gay. Or maybe not. Maybe she’d want people to know, so she wouldn’t have to take the blame. But this long after the fact, who cared? Lots of young marriages break up for lots of reasons.
Why the fuck would she wait this long to get divorced, though?
“I guess you never got around to filing the papers,” he said casually.
She looked a little stunned at first, then recovered. “It was quite a shock to find out, actually. I didn’t even realize until Frank asked me to marry him and then… it’s been so long. We lost touch when John enlisted, and I guess I missed the deadline. There were so many papers to fill out, and so much was going on at the time.”
Something, McKnight thought. Something was wrong. Did not add up.
“He’s looking good,” Angie said.
Hell, yeah. Not that it was any of her business.
“I heard he was wounded,” she added.
“Yes,” McKnight said. He stopped himself from saying anything about bravery under fire and heroism. That would be too obvious. “He was wounded but he recovered just fine.” Better than fine. Fucking excellent. Again, none of her business.
“I guess the army takes good care of you,” Angie said.
Motherfucker, McKnight thought, sudden flash of insight making him dizzy. He’d learned to trust that sort of revelation. The bitch had not filed the papers on purpose, hoping John would see action, hoping he’d get wounded and worse. KIA. He’d seen that one time before, with a guy he knew in Germany. The wife held on forever. The relationship was over, but that wouldn’t stop her from collecting a big, fat life insurance settlement as long as she was named as beneficiary and they were still legally hitched.
Except this Angie wasn’t listed as a beneficiary. McKnight had checked the records when Grimes told him he’d been married. In fact, Grimes had lied on his induction forms. He’d listed himself as single, not even divorced. But then, such a short marriage, and a sham from the start, he’d probably figured it didn’t even count.
Although they had been married long enough for her to hurt Grimes.
* * *
Danny was looking very hostile. Burned. She had this whole sham figured out. Of course he was mad at her. She was younger than him, sexy, John’s first lover. She was a threat, and feeling quite smug about it when the voices in the next room rose.
“It’s not my fault – she just showed up!”
“And I am sure you had no idea that you have been married all this time…”
“No!”
“Married, John! How could you?”
“It was a long time ago, before I ever met you. You can’t be upset about that. I didn’t even know you then.”
“And what about my job? This isn’t New York City, John. There are standards to be upheld, and dallying with a married man—”
“Fuck the school board. You’re a teacher, Linda, not a student. You can sleep with whoever you want.”
“Whomever. And yes, I can. But right now I am not so sure about whom I wish to bed!”
Angie watched, stunned, as the lady stormed out of the room and into the hall.
“Linda!” John shouted and rushed after her.
Angie craned her neck and could see him leaning against the door, preventing her from leaving. The lady tried to push him away from the door, and he put his hand on her waist, and leaned in close. He called her ‘baby’.
This was better than TV.
* * *
God, they were good, McKnight thought. He’d better play his part too. “Shit. Last time they had a fight like this it was weeks before things settled down. She sent all his stuff back and asked me to tell him stuff when he was in the room, and he’d pretend he couldn’t hear her. Like a couple of fucking teenagers.”
“Shhh!” Angie hissed. She was straining to hear what was going on in the hallway.
Grimes’ voice was low, quiet and soothing. McKnight couldn’t make out the words. Maybe Angie could. She was closer, and her hearing was probably better than McKnight’s. She certainly was enthralled by whatever was going on in the hall. She had the kind of look on her face McKnight imagined he got when he was watching Grimes from afar. Especially when Grimes was doing something sexy. Like leaning over or stretching or breathing. A sort of yearning look.
McKnight relaxed. The bickering couple act seemed to have worked its charm. He’d have to thank Linda. She’s always had a flair for the theatrical. And Grimes… he was good at everything.
Angie’s mouth dropped open and she looked shocked. “Oh, my God!” she said.
“What?”
The door opened, and there was more murmuring, and then it closed. Grimes came in alone. He took the papers over to the ugly thing and leaned on it while he signed them. Angie stared at him. He handed her the sheaf. “There. You’re officially rid of me. Congratulations.”
Angie stood up awkwardly. “Umm, I…” she looked at McKnight and blushed.
* * *
Danny didn’t look shocked at all. He looked clueless. Maybe he was used to that kind of thing. It was his sister, so he’d probably heard it all before. Those older women who go for younger men, they’re kinky. Angie wondered how many younger men this Linda had burned through before she got her claws on John.
She stuffed the papers back in the envelope and thanked John. He walked her to the door.
Smooth, she thought. He was never that smooth before. That’s what a little experience will do for a guy.
It was his eyes that had first attracted her. Sexy eyes. She’d been so disappointed that his performance hadn’t lived up to the promise of those sexy, sexy eyes. Now she looked into them, and they were as sexy as ever, but even more. They were amused. And naughty.
“You know,” she said, “if you’d talked like that when we were married…” She inched closer to him.
John opened the door abruptly. “I’m busy, Angie, and we’re done here. Go marry your truck driver.”
That was unfair, she thought as she stormed back to her car. Frank wasn’t a truck driver; he owned the whole fleet of vans. She’d told John that when she explained about the unfiled paperwork. She’d been hoping John would feel inadequate, what with her being engaged to a successful businessman.
There was no reason to be upset, she told herself. Now that the papers were signed she was free of that loser John. She was engaged to a great guy, a successful guy with a successful business.
But he didn’t have those sexy eyes. And he would never whisper anything like that in her ear.
Son of a bitch. Who would have thought ten years would change someone so much. It would be so worth fighting with John just for the makeup sex!
* * *
“What the hell did you say to my sister?”
Grimes blushed. “Nothing I haven’t said to you, sir.” He smiled a bit, but his eyes looked tired. “Well, maybe a few things I’ve never actually said to you, but nothing any naughtier.” Grimes stared at the floor for a moment. “Wow, I’m really wiped out. That was…”
“Weird,” McKnight said.
“Hmm.”
McKnight looked out the window to make sure Angie kept driving away. When her car disappeared up the drive he turned to face Grimes.
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“Sorry?” Hell, it was McKnight who was sorry. Sorry that bitch had ever found the house. He wasn’t going to say it, though, and he wasn’t going to voice his suspicions about insurance policies either, because Grimes already felt bad enough about what was, in all honesty, a pretty common youthful mistake. Instead, he put his arms around Grimes and held him close.
Grimes sighed and leaned against him.
“You look exhausted. Why don’t you knock off early? Take it easy. Take a nice long bath or something.”
Grimes nodded against his shoulder.
When the phone rang later, McKnight could hear the water running in the tub. “Hello?”
“Is John okay? Did that little witch leave?”
McKnight had never heard his sister call another woman a name like that. “She’s gone, he’s taking a bath – he’s shook up but he’s okay. What the hell did he say to you?”
Linda let out a long breath. “I wasn’t sure if you were able to hear that.”
“You know I can’t hear for shit. What the fuck did he say?”
“Watch your language, Danny!”
“Stop stalling. What. Did. He. Say?”
There was a long pause.
“Linda…”
“Danny.”
“You’re doing this on purpose.”
“I am doing no such thing. I am merely being ladylike. One does not repeat certain words in any but the most intimate company.”
“You’re driving me crazy.”
“That is one of the milder things he said…”
“What else?”
“Hmmm… let’s just say that he showed a healthy appreciation for my ample and mature feminine curves. Did the witch hear it?”
“Loud and clear. She looked scandalized.”
“As she should have.”
“And she made a play for him at the door.”
“Ha!”
“I’d really like to know.”
“I am sure you would, but a lady does not kiss and tell. And Danny, you know it was only play-acting. You are the only person to whom he would ever do those things… although you don’t have all the right body parts for exactly what John said. I’m sure if he changed a few adjectives and prepositions—”
“Linda!”
“Good-bye, Danny. Tell John I’m glad it all worked out, and I’m sure you’ll have a lovely evening.”
Fuck! McKnight slammed the phone down.
Aw, well, it didn’t really matter what Grimes said; it was what he did that counted.
McKnight put the kettle on and found the herbal tea in the cupboard. Grimes liked regular tea, but he tended to drink the herbal one when he was stressed out. It had a minty smell. McKnight had no idea what it tasted like. He had just about quit smoking and drank way less booze than he used to, and he’d even cut down on the coffee a bit, but there were some lines you don’t cross, and herbal tea was one of them. He poured the boiling water into the cup and let it steep for a few minutes.
Well. That had been undeniably weird. He’d heard bits and pieces about Angie, but meeting her completed the puzzle. She was definitely the sort of broad you fall for when you’re a horny eighteen year old, but not the type you marry unless you get her knocked up. He didn’t like to think about people in stereotypes like that, but stereotypes exist for a reason.
For a minute there, he’d been sure she suspected about him and Grimes. She might have been a stereotype, but she wasn’t entirely stupid. She’d probably been thinking of McKnight like a stereotype, too. Some kind of kinky stereotype. Army officer, tough guy, but with a younger man so probably the boss in the relationship… yup, stereotypes exist for a reason.
But the stereotype couldn’t touch reality.
McKnight took the cup of tea into the bathroom.
Motherfucker. Grimes was lying back in the tub with his head tilted back, baring his throat, making his hair fall back. Jesus! There was some kind of oil in the water. It made him glisten.
“Sir!” Grimes stood up. The oil made the water roll off his body in slow motion, fat, wet drops clinging to his skin.
“No, stay down!” McKnight said, panicked. If he saw Grimes’ cock all shiny with that oil there was no telling what would happen.
But it was too late. Grimes stepped out of the tub.
“I brought you some tea,” McKnight said feebly.
Grimes took a sip. He licked his lips, and McKnight could taste the mint in the air.
McKnight’s knees got weak. He figured he’d better say what he wanted to say right away. “John, I’m really glad that your marriage sucked because that woman does not deserve you and I’m not saying I do but I’m fucking lucky to have you so I’m not sorry the marriage ended badly, and it doesn’t even matter what you said to Linda to make Angie believe you’re fucking my sister because…”
McKnight ran out of steam because Grimes leaned over to put the tea cup on the window ledge and that gave McKnight a clear view of half of his ass. One perfect, gleaming oiled globe.
McKnight stared. Drooled a little. Swallowed.
“…and you have the most beautiful ass I’ve ever seen in my life and I’ll never stop wanting it.”
Okay, so that wasn’t exactly what McKnight had planned to say.
Grimes pointed a the tub. “If I let out a little water, you could join me in the bath, Danny.”
McKnight needed dumbly, and watched Grimes bend the fuck over to let out some water.
Grimes stood up. “Thank you for being so understanding about all this. It interrupted your day off, and it’s not something you should have to be bothered about. So the hugging and the tea and everything… thanks. But I don’t want you think I’m… I don’t want you to stop being my commanding officer, sir.”
“Never,” McKnight said.
“I mean, I want to serve you.”
“You do. Beautifully.”
“I mean…”
He meant now.
Oh. Well. McKnight knew what he meant. Exactly what he meant, and exactly what he should do. When the troops get shook up, they need a little discipline to remind them that all is well, and that there is a right and proper order to things.
Not punishment. McKnight had no desire to punish Grimes for anything. If anything, it would be a reward. But there was something about enforcing the chain of command that made everyone feel more secure.
Grimes would be slippery, and it would be a bitch to get the oil out of his clothes, so McKnight ripped off his BDU as fast as he could. He pushed Grimes up against the wall. Grimes shuddered a bit when his ass hit the cold tile, but McKnight figured it would warm up soon enough.
“You’re a kinky one, aren’t you, soldier?”
“Uh…”
“No simple fucks for you. You need something special, don’t you?”
“It’s not that, sir. I didn’t mean anything—”
McKnight slid his hands between the wall and the bottom of Grimes’ ass. “I say when you talk. I say when you fuck. I say when you suck my dick.”
Grimes made a gurgling sound. He started to slide down the wall a bit.
McKnight could have let him. He could have let Grimes get down on his knees and it would have been perfect, but…
“No. I tell you when you get on your knees and suck.”
Grimes breathed hot against his shoulder.
“But damn it, I want to fuck your ass.”
“Oh, yes,” Grimes said. He reached out and waved his hand in the direction of the bath oil. “Please, sir. Right here, right now.”
McKnight’s cock screamed that this was a great battle plan and demanded immediate implementation. McKnight’s brain told him it was more important to kiss Grimes and tongue fuck him into submission first.
Fortunately, Grimes was willing to do both at the same time. McKnight let him go long enough to reach the oil, which he slathered over his cock. Grimes slung one leg up over McKnight’s hip at the same moment McKnight shoved his tongue into Grimes’ mouth. McKnight rubbed the head of his cock between Grimes’ legs and against his asshole.
Grimes’ hands scrabbled on his shoulders and he went up on his toes. “Ooooooh.”
McKnight widened his stance and put his hands under Grimes’ ass and lifted him up. “Jesus, you’re heavier than you look,” he grunted. But then his cock forced its way inside Grimes, assisted by gravity. “Motherfucker!”
“Ah, sir!” Grimes wailed. He hooked his ankles behind McKnight and gripped McKnight’s shoulders. “Sir, ah, I think… I should have…”
McKnight had never tried that before. Fucking someone against a wall wasn’t as easy as it sounded. And Grimes was clearly finding it difficult to take him in all the way without some more preparation. Not to mention McKnight's back was going to hate him for this tomorrow. Somehow it didn’t matter when his cock was sheathed like that.
“Sir, your back,” Grimes said with a hitch in his breath.
“Fuck my back. I can’t stop.”
“You can’t hurt yourself!”
He could and he would, but this was stupid. Even if he didn’t care if he got hurt, Grimes would. He lifted Grimes up off his cock, which his cock did not appreciate in the least.
Grimes got down on his knees. And his elbows. Jesus, fuck, if he’d thought Grimes’ ass looked good before that was nothing compared to now – the top was marked with lines from being pressed against the tile, and the bottom was red from McKnight clawing at it, and his asshole was wet and open and just-fucked-about-to-be-fucked.
Grimes shivered. He was still damp from the bath.
McKnight eyed the bath. That was a much better idea. He stepped into the tub and settled down with his legs spread. “Get in.”
“Yes, sir!”
Grimes stepped in facing away from McKnight, so McKnight reached up to finger the reddened skin and make Grimes shiver some more.
“If you’re hard enough, sir, I could sit right down.”
He had got a bit soft from the cool air and the change in battle plan. His hand sloshed the water for the mere three strokes it took to become fully erect again. “Now.”
Grimes lowered himself slowly with his hands on the rim of the tub to control his movement.
McKnight kept his cock pointing up with one hand, and the other hand slid on Grimes’ oily hip. “Fuck, what is this stuff?”
Grimes wriggled his asshole against the head of McKnight’s cock. “Bought it at a sex store, sir. It’s designed for fucking in the water. We might have used a little more than recommended.”
Better than not enough. Grimes was hot and slippery and relentless. He lowered himself until the head was stretching him wide. “Ah, ah, ah!”
McKnight braced himself for some flailing. He hoped the slickness of the tub wouldn’t kill them both.
“I think… I should have…”
McKnight let go of his cock and slid both hands to Grimes’ waist. “We can stop.”
Grimes grunted. “Too late now, sir.” And slid all the way down.
Jesus motherfucking hell. Fucking in the water was tricky. And if McKnight concentrated on the logistics it might distract him enough to be able to give Grimes the good, long fuck he needed and so richly deserved.
“Oh, that’s what I need,” Grimes sighed after a while. Neither of them had moved. Grimes was just sitting on McKnight’s cock, with McKnight’s cock filling his ass, his back leaning back against McKnight’s chest.
Grimes tilted his head back and McKnight was able to nuzzle his cheek. They could stay like this for the rest of the day and McKnight would be happy. Except after a while Grimes started to rock a bit and work the cock in and out of his ass, slowly, lazily. “You’re so pretty when you fuck yourself on my cock,” McKnight said.
Grimes circled his hips.
“I want to watch you.” It was too slippery for McKnight to risk moving anyway. “Come on. Sit up.”
McKnight pushed and Grimes groaned, but he sat up and planted his hands on either side of the tub.
“Good boy. You show me how much you love my cock up your ass.”
McKnight didn’t know how long he’d be able to handle it, but there was something about the hot water and the oil and the way he was wedged into the tub that helped him keep from coming right away. That was good, because the way Grimes was lifting himself up, arms straining and triceps bulging, water streaming down his hips and the top of his ass, which clenched and made the breath leave McKnight completely, and then the way he was dropping himself down so suddenly, and the air was rushing into McKnight hot and wet, it was like nothing McKnight had ever experienced, even after all this time, after all these years of fucking Grimes.
“Danny, Danny, Danny.”
God, yes!
“I have to stop; I can’t keep going.”
“Keep going.”
“Sir!”
“Keep going. I want to come in your beautiful ass and then you can lie back and rest.”
“But I’m going to come.”
That was good. He’d have a tough time resting without coming first. McKnight reached around Grimes’ slippery hip and grabbed his cock. He was ready to come. They were both ready to come. It would only take the slightest stroke, and Grimes would start to squeeze around him and maybe even cry out a bit, and McKnight wouldn’t be far behind. McKnight pressed Grimes’ cock up flat against his belly to prolong things for a few more seconds.
Command, McKnight reminded himself. He was supposed to be in command. He slid his fingers back around Grimes’ cock. “Good boy. Time to come.” He jerked hard and sure enough there was squeezing and crying out and even splashing. Fucking great. McKnight let loose with a bellow and came. Grimes melted back against him, still twitching.
“Exactly what I needed,” Grimes mumbled.
McKnight kissed the top of Grimes' head. His cock would eventually get soft and slide out, and the water would get cold, and they would have to get out, but for now he was inside Grimes and the water was warm and they were both slippery but safe inside the tub.
“We’ll have to be careful getting out of the tub,” Grimes said.
“We will be, but we don’t have to get out just yet.”
Next: The final installment of the Army of Two series, The Future
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