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“Oh my fucking God,” I drone, equally dripping with the same degree of shame as my boy. “I’m so sorry, Kragen.”
Everyone else seated in the cabin is aghast like nosey nellies, hastily pulling out their phones. As if they’re about to record this majorly debauched spectacle, hoping to make some fast cash from Sploosh and all the rest of those rags.Go ahead, motherfuckers. You may wanna send this to The Patriot’s Examiner too, for Christ’s sake.
This isn’t at all how I intended to go public with the pineapple of my eye. And Veronica is liable to shit a brick the moment she sees evidence of my dissonance. Honestly, I wouldn’t blame her if she decided to up and quit. Leave me high and dry, only to fill yet another position in my professional and personal realms alike.
Kragen’s poor face is redder than a Coke can, every bit as humiliated as I am. He wriggles uncomfortably under each ounce of my body weight. My head wavers, while I coddle his rattling jaws from the horror of my own selfish desire.
This was my fucking idea in the first place. I’m such a terrible Daddy. I wasn’t considering this even a remote possibility when I shoved him in the lavatory. Not to mention the disgrace I’ve brought on the Fairchild name. Fuck the brand. Our stocks are surely gonna plummet towards the fifth circle of Hell after this. And if they don’t, father’s ghost can slap my ass and call me a biscuit for dodging a bullet. No matter what, his fucking legacy will suffer the most.
My boy remains firmly underneath, unable to engineer even a one syllable word. I raise my head, scanning around the cabin to study everyone’s gaping jaws directly lying in their lap. Every single person’s phone except Josie’s or Shane’s is pointed down in our direction. Their video footage has surely collected a decent two minutes. Long enough to warrant the shitstorm of media outlets to swarm the front gates of my Maui residence.Correction, our Maui residence.
Fuck ‘em. Might as well give everyone a show if this has already made front page news.My signature‘pretty boy’expression flashes each camera lens, screaming on the inside—“I’m Reid fucking Fairchild, who are you?”
Not another moment passes, before I turn my attention back to the precious Banana Boy. Judging by the apparent one-eighty which has warmed over his face, he’s just as eager as I am to make this moment count. I paint two fingertips across that charming birthmark, narrowing both of my eyes. Meanwhile, my tongue slithers around the crests of his quivering lips. They form a tight seal with mine, holding in a deep, fiery breath for what feels like minutes. Our mouths part a split-second later, affording me a premier opportunity to express myself.
A crack in my roar elevates the usual baritone husk to a higher octave. “I fucking love you, Kragen William Darling,” I proclaim, shouting loud enough so everyone back in coach can hear.
Everyone surrounding us in the first class cabin sighs, combined with a few cheers and whistles. Without further hesitation, I raise my head back up towards the throng of smartphones. Shane and Josie are clapping in our direction, even if he’s a tad disgusted to have been assaulted by a burst of cum. My hoarse throat softens with a modicum of saliva, when I continue my public declaration.
“I’m Reid fucking Fairchild and I love this boy more than life itself.”
KA HOPENA
