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I sigh. “Coming!” I shout back. I begin to pocket my phone but hesitate. I really shouldn’t be starting this kind of game right now, but fuck it. If this ends up being a whirlwind holiday romance that ends on New Year’s, I want to take advantage of it.
Before I can chicken out, I text:
Yes, well, after your video made me cum in my pants, I had little choice but to change ????
“Zachary! Your father needs help moving the table for tomorrow and I want it done before Aunt Cindy gets here!”
I groan as I stare at my phone, holding my breath. It’s taking him longer than usual. Is he busy? Or did I take it too far? Finally, the three little dots show up.
Alex: Oh my. My lamb has a naughty side. Does he need a little help controlling his orgasms?
Oh fuck. Fuckety fuck. I use the heel of my fist to push my cock down before it gets any ideas of making a comeback and relish in the bite of pain as I push harder than necessary. Where did this man come from? Did all my many wet dreams and late-night fantasies somehow come to life in the form of my coworker?
My mind is racing for a good reply, but I need to be quick. My mom never learned the meaning of privacy despite the fact that I’m a grown man, and I know she’ll barrel in any minute now.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath before taking a risk.
Yes, sir. I think he might.
The dots pop up immediately.
Alex: Fuck, Zach. You’re killing me here. We will most definitely be continuing this discussion when I see you next.
Oh man, I can just picture his deliciously deep voice saying that to me. I reply with a quick,
Yes, sir. I can’t wait.
I shove my phone in my pocket just in time for my mom to burst into the door.
It’s a few hours later and I’m sitting on the couch with my cousin Marcy. With Mom distracted by my aunt and my other cousin’s baby, I was able to put on comfortable clothes, and Marcy and I snuck into the family room. We’re watchingFalling for Christmas, a new Hallmark Channel Christmas movie, and binging on popcorn and other snacks we managed to pilfer from the kitchen.
Marcy and I are only six months apart, and we’re the black sheep of the family. Both of us moved out of Vermont and are single and childless, much to our family’s chagrin. I’m lucky that my family couldn’t care less that I’m gay. But as my mom reminds me nearly weekly, gay men can still adopt or have a surrogate. And now, with the omega gene, she has a whole new thing to latch onto. I haven’t even told her I tested as an omega, terrified she’ll start sending me brochures about IVF treatments for omegas, or something similar. It doesn’t matter that I’m single to my mom; that’s just a technicality.
Even now, when I have whatever this is with Alex, kids are so far off my radar. My feelings are so strong for the man, and I just want to relish in that for a while. It’s part of the reason I’m not telling Mom. She’d be planning my wedding already.
But I want to tell someone, and Marcy and I have always been confidants. She’s not paying attention to me, her focus completely on the movie. Maybe I should wait till after the movie to tell her?
“Zach, whatever you want to tell me, just do it already. The staring is getting creepy.”
I grin and throw popcorn at her. Up until two days ago, when I met Alex, Marcy was the only other person I ever felt comfortable enough with to act like myself. She never judges me, and she’s the first person I told I was gay.
“Shut up, Marc. I didn’t want to interrupt you; you seem into it.”
Sighing, Marcy picks up the remote and pauses the TV. “There. Welcome to the 21st century where DVR exists. What’s up, Zach?”
“I think I met someone,” I tell her. I run my hand through my curls, no doubt messing them up.
Her dark eyes light up. “What! Like, met someone, met someone? Or just a hookup? Where? What’s his name?”
I laugh at her enthusiasm. “I’m not sure. We, um, did hookup, but I think it’s more than that. At least, I hope so.”
Marcy turns on the couch so she’s facing me and shoves a handful of popcorn into her mouth. “I need more than that. C’mon.”
I proceed to tell her everything that’s happened in the last few days, though I refuse to show her the video of Alex masturbating even when she begs. I show her a much more PG picture of him, one he sent only a little bit ago of him and his sister and two little girls who I think are his nieces.
“Oh my gods, Zach! This is him? This is the sexy dominant Adonis who dicked you down in his office?”
She’s practically yelling. “Shh!” I whisper urgently, looking beyond her to see if anyone is around, but it’s silent.
