Page 4 of The Key Holder

It was actually pretty comfortable, though having the guy at The Velvet Hole manhandle me into the properly-sized one was certainly an experience I’d never forget. I was shocked I fit into something so small.

But it was an experiment after all, albeit a kinky one; a reset for me of sorts and hopefully the beginning of a newer, more mature phase of my life. One where I’d have better judgment and more self control.

Or as Morgan referred to it—my stop-being-a-slut-for-cock summer.

It was easy for him to say that. He and Pierre had met during Morgan’s study abroad semester and had been inseparable ever since. Morgan was getting all the cock he wanted. Granted, it was the same cock.

As the cabin came into view, I had to almost hold back tears. It felt like everything up to this point in my life was a metaphor and this cabin was a beacon, a refuge from the toxicity I was leaving behind.

Memories of happier times came flooding back.

Having to swim back from the island in the middle of the lake because our canoe slipped away.

Flinging a still-on-fire marshmallow across the clearing while making s’mores and almost starting a wildfire.

Staying up late to see meteor showers.

I hoped to God my time here was worth it. I needed to figure out what the fuck to do with my life. Where I was going wrong with all these guys. And it all started with promising myself that I would no longer settle for useless one night stands or relationships that brought me down. I needed a partner that nurtured my spirit instead of draining it. And then hope and pray that partner had a stunning and endlessly hole-pleasing cock.

I pulled up to the front door and turned off the engine. The complete stillness was like a security blanket. Sometimes the city’s constant noise was comforting, but not like this.

That’s weird.

The front porch light was on. Unless my mom had a timer installed, it looked like someone was here. I sure as shit hoped someone hadn’t broken in and fucked up the place.

By the time I made it to the porch, I convinced myself that there was a good reason the light was on. It had to be a timer. That was it.

After I unlocked the front door, I felt a renewed sense of liberation. The whole summer was ahead of me and tonight I was going to start things off right. By taking an edible, baking cookies, and eating all the cookies.

But as soon as I entered the kitchen, I could tell something was off. Someone had been here—or maybe they were still here? There were dishes in the sink and empty beer cans on the counter. And I didn’t remember turning the upstairs lights on.

Definite Goldilocks vibes.

I put the bags of groceries down on the table and headed to the living room. A quick circuit of the first floor revealed nothing else of note, so I made my way to the stairs and slowly started climbing. Within seconds, I had the thought that this would definitely make a good finale for a wilderness-set horror movie. If someone was here, I would just explain this wasn’t their cabin and they should find another place to go. Simple as that.

If it got physical, I could take care of myself. I worked out.

A little.

More lights at the top of the stairs…from the only room up here, the master bedroom…and noises.

Sex noises!

Someone was going to town on someone and it sounded…kind of hot.

Blood flowed southward and my cage was becoming increasingly strained holding its goods.

This wasn’t a horror movie anymore, it was a porn.

I crept forward, not making a sound. The door was cracked open, enough for me to see two perfect globes of man-ass pounding away. Whoever was on the receiving end of that had to be in heaven.

His back was flawless, his blond hair was perfect. The longer I stared, the more aroused I became. He was a fucking stallion. I just wanted to see how big his⁠—

Fuck!

I lost my balance leaning forward and fell into the room, slamming the door open.

“What the fuck?!” the man screamed.