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He tensed when she grimaced, worried he’d made a grave mistake in asking.She’s going to tell you to mind your own fucking business because all you’re here to do is ejaculate. Just be happy that you get to fuck something other than your hand.Instead, she blushed prettily once more, shaking her head.
“No, I-I’m divorced.”
Lowell listened, slack-jawed, as she described the fertility struggles she had faced with her ex-husband, a lizard man.Fucking of course he was.He stiffened as soon as the words crossed her lips, imagining Daiyuu and Nikkia, fury turning his insides all over again.What kind of stupid, double-dicked asshole would leave this gorgeous, soft girl?
He wished he could say the rest of their conversation had been short and innocuous. That he’d sat there like a perfect gentleman, sipping his lemonade with a completely flaccid cock, the thought of getting hard over the fact that she was single never even occurring to him. He wished she could say that, but he would’ve been a filthy, stiff-dicked, lemonade-sipping liar.
He’d never wanted to fuck anyone more than he wanted to fuck this gorgeous girl before him. Every drop of blood in his brain was fighting him, desperate to abandon the conversation and move south, like a snowbird fleeing the northeast winter. His balls throbbed, and his cock twitched every time she did something adorable, which was constantly. He was so focused on remaining upright that he nearly missed the moment she referred to his penis.
“You know, it’s kind of surprising they didn’t include a picture of it.”
She didn’t need to worry about a picture, he wanted to blurt, because he would’ve been happy to pull it out right there for her. He managed to make a joke about not judging her chosen donor based on size, but she’d made it very clear she was interested in seeing what he was packing.
“I mean, if you really want to see it, I could technically whip it out for you right now. I’m pretty sure this town has some kind of legislation that makes clothing optional. I’ll warn you, though, it’s been stiff for the last forty minutes.”
They had left the small café by then and were passing between buildings, following the small path that led to a miniature park, one that was only ever populated during the commerce park’s early lunch hour, which they were well past. He had expected his crass words to make her blush and quickly change her mind. He was shocked when her hand dropped to rest on the bulge at the front of his jeans, sucking in a breath when his shaft twitched in her hand. Lowell thought his knees would buckle when she gave his cock a light squeeze, sense leaving him as he pulled open his belt buckle.
“Someone needs to be on lookout duty because if I get caught this way, I really am going to walk into traffic; you have no idea.”
He tried to imagine the scandal it would cause if some mother and her young child wandered through the little park on their way home from the elementary school, spotting one of the Hemmings boys with his cock out in public. He hadn’t lied, not technically. The current town ordinance made clothing optional. There were unspoken rules, though, of course. His cock and balls rested on the outside of his body; therefore, he was expected to cover them the same as in any human town in the unification. There were other places in the world where he’d traveled where nonhuman species didn’t wear clothing at all, regardless of their genitalia and if it would swing around in public, but here in Cambric Creek, there were certain expectations — and as a Hemming, he wasexpectedto lead by example. It would not do to be caught this way.
That didn’t keep him from moaning when she touched him, the edge of her nail tracing the outline of his cock head. He wanted her to ease his foreskin back, tap her finger against his slit until it was slick and sticky with his pre-come, and wondered what the slide of her tongue would feel like against his frenulum. He wanted to pull his balls out and let her give them a bit of stretch, wanted her to suck each one in her mouth before kissing his sac and returning her attention to his needy cockhead. He desperately wanted to do all of the above . . . but what he did instead was tuck himself away.
“We-we should probably go somewhere if you don’t feel like you can make an informed decision yet. Clothing is optional, but I’m pretty sure hand jobs are not.”
He could taste her arousal on the air. A slight, sweet tang on his tongue, he could taste her wetness. His mouth flooded, wanting to bury his face against her and lick her for all he was worth. He wouldn’t stop until he was dripping in her and she was gasping in pleasure, filling her with his cock only after he had made her shake beneath his tongue.
“There-there’s a place right around here, I think. Just around the corner. We can walk, if you want to leave your car here.”
It was a hotel that catered to business travelers visiting their company campuses there at the Parkway, but it would be good enough just then. He wanted to take her home, lay her down in the middle of one of Grayson’s sumptuous spare bedrooms and fuck her until she couldn’t walk in a straight line, but he didn’t want her to feel threatened or unsafe. She picked a public place for their meeting, and he could pick a public place for this. He had one of Grayson’s credit cards in his wallet and there wasn’t a single person in town who would say no to Hemming on sight. His name chafed and he disliked the heavy expectation he carried . . . but he didn’t mind the open doors at that moment.
“Lowell . . . I’m definitely picking you. You’re my choice; I-I want to do this with you. But it would be nice to get the awkwardness out of the way, don’t you think?”
She could call it awkwardness if it would make her feel better; she could tell herself she was doing her due diligence in getting to know her chosen partner if that was what she needed to do to sleep peacefully later that night. He was relatively confident that none of the onboarding videos he’d watched said anything about sampling the goods before their appointed rendezvous at the clinic, but he wasn’t about to voice that and spoil her illusion. She wanted this as much as he did. He could taste the evidence of that on the air and couldn’t wait to bury his tongue in it.
It was his debilitating horniness that made his stomach flip and his lungs somersault at her words, though, that was what he told himself, heat burning up his neck in a way he knew made him splotch like a tomato. Horniness and not much more, he told himself, gripping her chin with a gentle hand, tilting her perfect little rosebud mouth to meet his in a slow, soft kiss. He wasn’t meant to be kissing her; of that, he was sure. But they weren’t at the clinic just then, she had opted to see him outside of the set parameters of their contract-dictated relationship, and she was just as soft and warm as he had suspected.
He was lonely and horny, and that was a terrible cocktail upon which decisions ought to be made, but it had been too many months of feeling both, and he no longer cared. If she wanted to do this, he was more than willing.
First, though, he had a wrong to right.
“Can-can we just move our cars real quick? Let me just . . . Here, follow me.” He quickly led her back up the little pathway between buildings until they had reached the café parking lot. There was a car on the far corner of the lot, which undoubtedly belonged to the cranky server, and another a few spots away that must’ve been the cook. There was a new car that had not been there when they had left, but that wasn’t the one he was concerned with. There had been only one other car in the lot when he pulled in that afternoon, and it still sat there now. Lowell had no doubt the satyresses still sat at their little table, clicking like hens.
“Can you back into the spot next to this car here? I’ll direct you.”
“I think I’m too close to the line,” she called him out her window a few moments later, doing exactly as he asked.
“Nope, you’re right on the line, not even a hair over. Don’t worry, you’re perfect.” She stood on the sidewalk, watching him with a furrowed brow as he quickly slid behind the wheel of the borrowed car he’d been using, Trapp’s spare.
His mother was not a steamroller. She was terrifyingly competitive and viciously territorial, both traits Gray and Trapp had inherited, but no one was allowed to say that about her except for them. At least not in his hearing. She gave up copious amounts of her free time for this community, planning and executing festivals, parties, and picnics, one after another, putting in more hours and effort than people often did at a full-time job.
Perhaps, he thought to himself, climbing through the car to exit on the passenger side, taking in Moriah’s slightly horrified expression, they might learn their lesson about being terrible gossips. He suspected not, though, which was why they were people like him in the world — malicious little shits, as Gray had called him just that week, a consequence of unplugging every single prostate massager in his brother’s fancy drawer — adjusting the balances and setting things right.
The gossips would be unable to open either the passenger’s or driver’s side door more than a few inches, not enough to squeeze into their vehicle, at least not until Lowell and Moriah returned. She was beautiful. She was sweet and delicate, and he wanted to taste every inch of her skin. What they did and for how long they did it would be entirely up to her, but the fact remains that he would have the room for the night.The old biddies ought to get comfortable because we’re not rushing.
“You know what?” She grinned from the sidewalk, the horror having left her face, “if this car belongs to that horrible server? I don’t even care.”
I think I’m in love. The thought came to him unbidden, and Lowell grinned as he gripped her hand, eager to have it back on his cock.Maybe it’s true. Either way, it’s going to be a real long fucking month.
