Winter Break

When my eyes opened, my vision was blurred. I rolled over onto my other side, very slowly, so I wouldn't wake the man next to me. I propped my head up on my palm, and looked at him. We'd fallen asleep in a completely different position than when we-- I woke up. He was facing the opposite direction, back-up and chin-down in the sheets and memory foam of the mattress. Watching him made me happier than anybody else in the world.

Leaving the bed pained me, but my feet started to get cold. So when I tip-toed down to the now working heater, I breathed a sigh of relief when the hot air immediately seeped out of the vents after turning the temperature up. I crept back to our room, where Mr. Phillips was still sleeping. Watching him sleep was like watching a puppy chase it's tail; it was enough entertainment so that you weren't bored. I was standing a few feet away from his side of the bed now and had a better view.

His chin was resting on the milky white goose feather pillow his head was on, and his back was facing the ceiling, rising and falling with each breath he took. His arms stretched to either side of him, and while one was bent back by the elbow to tuck under him again, the other one was stretched up, touching the headboard. I looked at how his legs were neatly spread, and how they had weren't covered by any sheets at all. It must've been me, because it was something I did when the bed got hotter and hotter. I would push all the sheets to the bottom of the bed with my feet. I traveled up his legs to his buttocks, which were sticking out into the open like daisies in the grass. Above it all, the suns rays broke through the walls of the glass and stormed the room, resting a warm yellow glow just on top of his body.

I smiled at the scene, and walked towards the sliding glass door. Knowing that I had only just turned the heater on to escape from the cold, I pulled a pair of sky blue boxer briefs up my thighs and headed outside, walking to the dock. The wood of the dock was frost-covered, and as cold as ice. However, my feet weren't bothered by the temperature. I sat at the edge, and let my legs hang limply. Unlike a few nights ago, I let the cold air linger on my skin, and sat on the frost-covered wooden dock, staring at the ice-covered lake, where small birds and rodents were gathering on top of, for no apparent reason other than to gather food for the rest of the winter where they would be hibernating. I must've been out for hours, because when I looked back at the sun, it was high in the sky, and was slowly being covered by fog. Fog was normal for where we were, so I didn't mind. I had come out because it was sunny, and that was rare enough for an audience. Another half hour flew by before a soft hand touched my shoulder.

"Hi." Mr. Phillips murmured from behind me.

"Hi." I murmured back, turning my head slightly, as he crouched onto his haunches and wound his arms around me.

"It's cold out, you should get inside." His arms were covered in blanket, so it was like he made a little chrysalis for us both. He pressed his chest against my back. It was something he liked to do to be romantic.

"I don't mind the cold."

"Alright," He said, after a minute of thinking. "Listen, I'm gonna go out for a little to get the christmas tree, do you want anything?"

I shook my head and turned it some more, to kiss his lips gently, and lightly caress his cheek. He left the blanket around me and walked away, his feet softly pounding against the dock and crunching against the frost-covered leaves. Another few minutes went by, and it started to drizzle. I looked up at the sky, as it was now grey, and fog was creeping in through the woods around the cabin everywhere. I finally got up and walked back inside, tightening the blanket around me, but stopped short, when I caught a glimpse of the so called drizzle. My eyes focused more on the falling specks. Snow. It was snowing, and it was starting to come down in heaps. I walked up to the porch and inside, where I safely watched the snow drift down. Mr. Phillips was still here, and he was getting dressed. He didn't notice me until I crept over to him and reached under his arms to hug him from behind and help him button up his shirt, directing myself from the image I saw in the full-length mirror on the closet door.

"It's snowing," I told him. "And it's coming down fast, so try to get out and back in as fast as you can, okay? I don't want to worry about you."

"I'll go as fast as I can." He promised, and kissed me one last time before zipping up his jacket and taking the car keys.

"I love you!" I called after him.

The sound of his boots stopped. He must've left. I looked at my feet, then back up at I heard his voice.

"Hey," He called. His head was popping out from the doorway. "I love you too."

I smiled as he closed the door. I'd only been in a few rooms of the house, so I decided to walk around. I walked around the whole first floor. I started at the foyer, where there was a closet, with nothing in it, and a black leather ottoman at the opposite wall. Walking into the next room, which had the cream-colored, carpet covered, stairs and a silver chandelier hanging from the ceiling. I turned a left, as I could've gone up, left or right, and came into the living room, where I had stayed so many nights before. The sofa and the two recliners, the fireplace, the carpet and the coffee table. The wide-screened television above the fireplace was buzzing silently with the sounds of colorado news. Next to the living room, divided by a bar and barstools, was the kitchen, with a sliding glass door diagonal to the parallel room's walls, the fridge, the oven, cupboards filled with glass cups, wine glasses, ceramic and china bowls, and other dining-related things. I turned. The hall was opposite from the fireplace in the living room, so that's where I went next. I walked down the hall, peeking through the doors. The bathrooms were elegant, the bedrooms were placid and comforting, the office and game room were quite large and musky, the papers on the office's desk were strewn over the floor and around the perimeter of the desk. It seemed like Mr. Phillips was going through a crisis of some sort. When I moved from the office to the game room, I was shivering. The game room's heating vent was covered up by a white strip of magnetic sheet. I pulled it off and let the warm air blast through the room, heating my skin. I looked at the pool table in the corner, which also had the billiard balls carelessly placed all around the sides of the table. The velvety cloth that was used was dark green, with light blue, bright red, and dandelion yellow spots all over it. There were a few white spots in one area. I leaned over to look at them, and realized it wan't the cloth, but a dried paint. 'No,' I thought. 'It's too translucent to be paint.' I kept staring at it until I realized the substance and tried not to laugh. It was dried cum. I looked at the other, bigger spots. Either Mr. Phillips could blow more loads then I thought, or his ex could. I looked around the game room some more, looking at the shelves with picture frames lying face-side-down. I lifted the top of one up, and stared at the picture.

It was a very tall man, with black hair, blue eyes, strong cheekbones, a thin nose, and a cleanly shaved face. His skin was tanned to the point of bronze, his body was as fit as Matt Bomer's, and he was in a tight speedo, that was clinging tightly to an obvious hard-on that stretched to his waist. My eyes were wide. This must've been Mr. Phillips' ex boyfriend. His legs were thick and quite hairy, but not too hairy. His calves were bulging, his biceps flexed, and his hands behind his back, pulling the back of his speedo down. He was quite handsome. So handsome, I started sporting a thick hard-on of my own.

I quickly put the frame back down to how it was and left the room, walking quickly to the next room. It was a library, and it was three stories tall. My eyes were wide open, and my head was tilted back. I walked around the perimeter of the room, placing my fingers on the spines of the books and letting them drag over each title. When I came back to the door, I looked around the whole room. There were bookshelves, small round tables, stools, and a big desk in the middle of the room. I walked over to the desk and sat down in the chair, looking at the open book on the desk. The first page was in handwriting, and the second page was blank except for a few of the top lines. Mr. Phillips had been writing. I flipped to the beginning of the book and started there.

The story was about a man who started out as a womanizer and never felt happy until his views changed from heterosexuality to homosexuality when he met another man. The man wasn't able to publicly love the other man until a short period of time had passed. But way Mr. Phillips described the second man seemed eerily familiar. Sandy brown hair, dark brown eyes, sparkly white teeth, a small nose, sculpted cheekbones and lightly tanned skin. Mr. Phillips was writing about him and me. I smiled every time Mr. Phillips wrote about the way his character had felt. I read for a few more hours, then set down the book. Mr. Phillips sincerely loved me, and I wanted to tell him how much I loved him back.

"Oh Tucker," I whispered to myself. "I love you so much."

Then I looked at the clock. He should've been back by now. I walked into the bedroom and picked up my phone, dialing up Mr. Phillips.

"Hello?"

"Tucker?"

"Damien?"

"Where are you? I'm worried."

"A cop pulled me over on my way home and directed me back to town. He said I should stay inside because of the blizzard. I'll try and drive home again now."

I looked out the sliding glass door. It was snowing hard.

"Oh. Well, be safe. I love you."

"I will, I love you too. Bye."

"Bye." I hung up and looked back out the door. I was just above to turn away when I saw something, a figure in the snow, struggling to get up. I quickly put on a pair of black jeans, a black v-neck, my dark brown fur-lined hoodie, my trademark brown beanie, a pair of socks, and my black boots. Annoyed, I jumped into the snow and trudged out to the figured. Who would be so stupid to roam around the forest this time of year, during dark, when there was a blizzard out. When i got realized, my eyes told me it was only an ignorant and helpless fox, half buried in snow, unable to get out. I quickly started cupping the snow in my hands and throwing it over my shoulder. Once I had pushed all the snow off of the fox, it immediately skittered away. I turned, walking back to the cabin, on the snow-covered lake. I wasn't too worried about the ice breaking, since there was compressed snow on top and the ice must be thick at the temperature I was in. Once I had pulled myself up onto the dock and kept walking towards the house, I was wondering about rest of the winter break. What if Mr. Phillips had second thoughts? What if he left me at the cabin? Not likely. He loved me for four years, and still does. When he found out I loved him the same amount of time, and still do, we made a connection. We loved each other more. Our sexual desire had become stronger.

Suddenly, a feeling of complete and pure lust came over me. I wanted him. I wanted to entangle my fingers in his hair when I went back into the cabin. I wanted to lick every single part of his body when I turned the hot water to the shower on. I wanted him to kiss me and never stop when I stripped off my clothes and walked to the living room. I wanted to feel his skin against mine when my dick flopped around, slapping against my skin and my low hanging, balls as big as tangerines. I wanted him inside of me when I went back to the bathroom and got into the shower's hot water.

I imagined him completely naked. I imagined him walking around the cabin that way, moaning my name. I imagined his own dick flopping around. They way it wobbled around, slipping back and forth around his gigantic balls aroused me. I imagined his dick slapping against each leg when he walked. His balls bouncing up and down, aching to be pleasured. His dick kept flopping around, and when he turned, his tool would swing around, and make a light "whup" against his leg. I imagined his butt cheeks rubbing together, jiggling slightly as he walked. I imagined him getting in the shower with me. He hugged me from behind. I was imagining so hard I could actually feel his hands on me. I looked down, and there were hands on me. They were Mr. Phillips'. I quickly turned and kissed him, pressing my lips against his hard. He reared his head back, startled when I kissed him, but slowly started kissing me back. I pulled away.

"I missed you." I told him.

"Well I'm here." He responded, taking the soap.

I turned back around and angled the shower head so he could wash up too. But he obviously wasn't interested in washing. I knew what he wanted. He turned, using one hand to soap up my butt cheeks and used his other hand to massage my abs. He kissed my shoulder and let me lean my head against his hair. I moaned softly as he started rubbing the head of his man meat against my hole. He pressed against me even more, letting his whole front body press against mine. His warmth against mine made me happy, and when I leaned back and he leaned forward, his skin pressing harder against mine. His chest made my spine tingle, and his flaccid prick being forced against my ass made me breathe harder. He kissed my neck and my shoulders vigorously, then tapped his lower lip. I turned around and kissed him back, smiling because he was using our signal. Our signal that told the other person, 'show me how much you love me.' His hands wandered from massaging my abs to groping at my ass. I slid my fingers into his dark, wet, hair and pushed him against the wall. His tongue was nice and loving, but his neck was alone, and needed some love. So I kissed his neck, and I slowly licked at the skin. I could hear his heavy breathing. I continued to pleasure his neck, sucking hickeys and nipping softly at the skin.

At last I kissed lower. His arms were pressed against the wall. He needed pressure to even out the pleasure. I kissed his chest, and left big purple hickeys there too. I slowly licked his nipples until he moaned for more and pushed my head into his pecs some more. I kissed down to his abs, and he moaned as if each kiss was a touch from a sexual god. I started licking between the indents of his four-pack and kissing right above his belly button. He moaned louder, and his cockhead started to push against my neck. I kept kissing around his treasure trail and finally I lifted his tool up to my lips. My tongue explored only the head, only teasing him. My tongue ran up the base and flicked over the slit. His fingers all wiggled in ecstasy. I was giving him the pleasure I wanted him to have. The pleasure he deserved. His moans grew louder and louder as I licked more and more of the head. Then I stopped, looking up at him. His eyes were closed. When they started opening, I pushed the whole thing into my mouth quickly, and sucked in strongly. His eyes shut tightly and his fingered balled into fists. He moaned louder than he had last night when he had let his creamy load into the condom he had used.

I deep throated him like this for minutes on end. His moans were deafening, but I didn't mind. I decided I should start a trick my female friends had taught me. I flicked my tongue around a certain way while completely down on his meat. His deafening moans stopped. I must've been doing something wrong. I looked up at him, and his mouth was open and his fists were still clenched. I flicked my tongue some more, and then almost all sexual hell broke loose. Mr. Phillips moaned as loud as he could, shooting load after load of his sticky man juice into my mouth. After he was finished, he started to slip, so I pulled his tool out of my mouth as to avoid biting of any sort. He fell onto his butt, but used his hands to cushion it just in time. I leaned up to his lips and kissed him softly, inviting his tongue to mingle with mine. He took the invitation and stuck his tongue into my mouth to taste his salty-sweet cum. I let him lick the remains of his pleasure from my mouth and slid my fingers back into his hair. He reached around me and took hold of his dick, slapping it against my ass, signaling that he was ready for round two. I turned off the shower and opened the glass door, grabbing the nearest towel and drying him off, wiping every single drop of water off of his wet body. The towel brushed his moistened skin, and combed every hair on his arm. He took the towel from me afterwards and wiped me off just as thoroughly. I held his hand on top of the towel, as his hand was still shaking from the pleasure I gave him. I guided his hands up my chest and back down, and all around my skin. I brought it over to my ass, where he thoroughly scrubbed and massaged. Then I slowly guided his hand over to my crotch, where he rubbed more and more until I was rock-hard. I smiled at him and kissed him again, and as he kissed me back, he was getting another hard-on.

"I don't wanna wear you out." I whispered to him.

"Nonsense. As if you could wear me out." He smiled.

"Is that a challenge?"

"Do you want it to be?"

"I bet you'll be worn out after five hours of you fucking me."

"I'll take that bet."

And with that he kissed me, grabbing a condom and sliding onto his cock. He took ahold of his dick and gently tickled my ass. I laughed. He smiled.

"I like to make you happy." He told me.

"You always make me happy." I responded.

We kissed again, with tongue. His saliva and mine mixed, and his hot breath beat against my lips, making me want him even more. Our kissing's passion and bittersweetness increased, and he draped my legs apart, tickling my ass some more with his rod, then pushing the head into me. We kept kissing, and he pushed more and more of himself into me. Soon enough, he hit my prostate, and I twitched.

"Fuck," I snapped at myself.

"Shit. Did I hurt you?"

"No, you just hit my pr- FUCK!" I told him, as he smiled and jammed it further in, just to interrupt me playfully.

I was moaning loudly now, and only taking breathed around thirty seconds apart. His godly form was hunched over me, and he kissed me while fucking me, sliding his hands down my arms. The feeling of his fingertips seemed to emphasize everything else I felt. I could feel the silk sheets rubbing against my back, and how amazing it felt when the fabric touched the middle, where my spine was. I felt my toes curl each time he thrust into me, and it felt like when each toe touched the ball of my foot I had a single orgasm. I felt his balls slap against mine, and how each touch they made felt like I came and wouldn't stop. And above all I felt his throbbing, rock-hard man meat ram into my prostate every two seconds, and the pressure it put on the walls of my ass. His fingers touched mine, and my fingers curled in pleasure into his, locking our hands together.

His tongue wrapped around mine, and he continued screwing me. My mind was bursting with love and lust. I suddenly unlocked our fingers and pulled his chest onto mine with one hand, wrapping his hair in my other hand's fingers. I kissed him vigorously, swirling my tongue around his, and moving my hand on his back to his ass, pulling it into me. I started pushing my hips back and forth, trying to get more and more inside of me.

"Oh hell no, I'm only going halfway, I don't want to hurt you." he told me.

I gave him a disappointed look, followed by one of pleasure, as he thrust the whole thing inside of me once, then resumed fucking me with only half of his cock. his face, which was a 'You-remember-that-because-it's-only-happening-once' face. I looked at I kissed him again, softly nibbling on his lip, teasing him. He kissed me more and more, drowning me in his saliva and love. I smiled when he kissed me, and pulled my hand off his ass, but wrapping my legs around it. I used my other free hand to wrap around his back. His own hands were clutching the sheets. Then he moved one over to under himself, and he started jerking me off.

"Unh, Unh, T- Oh Tuck--fuck--tuckerrr, you st-stud."

"Aw fuck, the way you talk gets me so hot sometimes."

"Mmm, c-come onn, f-fuck me."

He kept fucking, and wasn't getting tired. An hour must've passed. He pushed his face against my neck and started kissing it. 'He must be a sex-god,' I wondered. 'He's fucking me, beating me off, and giving me hickeys all at once.' My legs started to violently spasm, and the feeling of orgasm came over me again. I moaned so loudly that Mr. Phillips tapped his bottom lip so I would kiss him and be silent. I kissed him like he wanted, but kept moaning into his mouth. As long as he kept jabbing my prostate, I would keep up my orgasm. And since he was already limiting his power, he had no choice but to keep up my pleasure. I kept moaning into his mouth more and more, until I had to breathe, and I stopped kissing him, taking in breath. At that exact moment, I came in his hand. My mind was exhausted, and felt like my pleasure was at its peak. I moaned and groaned, turning my head and biting my pillow to smother my attempts to express the pleasure I was feeling.

Finally, Mr. Phillips took a break to lick all the cum off my chest, abs and dick. I took in as much breath as I could get. He started licking the cum off the tip of my dick first, then he pushed himself forward and opened his mouth, lifting my whole dick into it. I had never been at the receive side of the blowjob telephone, so I was excited that there was a mouth blowing over and over on my prick. I had my doubts at first, wondering if he knew what hew as doing. But Mr. Phillips' lapped and licked at my meat like a pro. My mind was spinning some more. His tongue lapped lower and lower on my cock until his nose was buried in my pubic hair, and his chin was touching my balls. His wet lips started raising up and down, the lower lip gently tickling my scrotum, and the top lip rubbing the base of my tool slowly. I moaned more. The amount of moans I had made was crazy. He kept slurping at my tool, swallowing the whole thing down his throat, and humming, sending a vibrating feeling through my rod. I moaned louder and louder, and finally burst into his mouth. He swallowed each load I fired at him, until I felt to faint to cum any more. Once he had stopped, he got up onto his knees and readjusted the condom. But I didn't care anymore. I grabbed his dick and pulled it off.

"Wha-"

"Fuck me, Tucker."

"But what about STD's?"

"Do you have any?"

"Well no."

"Me neither. Fuck me. I want you to cum inside of me."

He grinned and kissed me, letting his tongue share my cum with my own tongue. Once he had swallowed his share and I had swallowed mine, he reached down to my bag and pulled out the lube.

"How'd you know that was there?"

"That's where you got your condom yesterday, and where I got mine today."

I shrugged and took the lube from him, then I poured it into my hands and started to jerk him off. The sounds of his moans filled the air for a change, and finally he was ready-for-action again. I turned onto my stomach, telling myself that I was ready to endure some serious fucking and prostate-pressing. He laid down on top of me and poked at my asshole until the head was in. He tried lowering his cock into me slowly, but slipped and his whole dick rammed into me as fast as it could. I violently twitched and screamed out.

"DAMNIT. Are you alright?"

I could barely speak. "Oh my god.. I fucking love you so much."

"Shit, you can take this whole thing?"

I barely nodded. Once he had approved that I was fine, he started thrusting quickly again. My whole prostate had a feeling of ecstasy. I couldn't make any noise, just lie there and let him penetrate me over and over. He was humping me very fast. Each violent thrust he sent into me felt like nothing I'd ever felt before. His giant sausage was slamming into my prostate, like we wanted me to feel, and his huffs and puffs of violent breath heated the back of my neck. As he plowed my ass, his fingertips explored the front of my body, finally resting on my waist. His knees pressed harder onto the mattress and he lifted himself upright, so he was on his knees. I didn't want his big tool anywhere away from me, so I got onto my elbows and knees so he could fuck me in the position we were in. He must've gotten the hint, and he clenched my waist harder, and he starting humping me like a jack rabbit. Over and over, pounding and pounding, rubbing and rubbing, clenching and groping. Our sighs and sex-moans filled the air, and the musk of our dirty, sweaty, sexy acts were stimulating him to fuck me harder and faster. My head drooped down, hanging in wonder at his abilities. Oh, the way he was fucking me- humping and humping and humping, it was like a gay man's fantasy. After a while his hands pulled off my hips and he pulled out of me. Before I could ask about what he was doing, he flipped me onto my back and stuffed every inch of his giant tool up my ass. Words couldn't describe how in love I was with this man right now. He held my legs to his hips and dragged me to the edge of the bed so he could stand up while he fucked me on the bed. He started fucking just as fast as he did before, and then took his hands off my waist. He reached up and put his hands behind his head. 'Hands free,' I thought, and tried to giggle while moaning, but couldn't get any laughs out. His pace slowed after a while, and it was nice and peaceful. After he did what he did next, it could be obviously seen as a plan to stun me. He rapidly humped me, sliding his huge throbbing wood in and out of me, the full length sliding out until only the head was in, then slipped fully back in. The process repeated over and over, as fast as he was doing me before. Sweat glistened on his forehead and chest, slowly dripping onto my abs and my own dick, which was rock hard.

"Y-" I started. But I was too stupefied by the length of his dick to speak.

"What?"

"I-"

He laughed and started ramming faster and harder, to get enough sound out so I could speak.

I moaned loudly. "You fucking hung stud, I want to spend my life with you."

He stopped fucking me. "What?"

I blushed and turned my head. "I want you to marry me."

I don't think I could've seen a wider smile. "Okay."

I nodded. He laughed and kissed my shoulder.

"I love you." he told me.

"I- SHIT. OHHhh.. you asshole."

He made me interrupt myself by violently thrusting his cock against my prostate some more. Then he started to fuck me again. He leaned down, resting his chest against my back, angling his legs to hold my legs from jerking around violently. His hands cupped mine, and his fingers curled through the spaces. He pressed his hot lips to the back of my neck and my shoulders. He fucked me for another hour. And a sweaty, sticky, hour it was. At the end of the second hour, Mr. Phillips moaned loudly.

"Shiiiitt..." he sighed.

"Wh- whaat- what is itt-t?"

"Mmf, mmf, I'm gonna cum."

"Do it," I begged. "I want your seed inside of me."

And he came. And I felt every single bit of it. It felt amazing. It felt incredible. There weren't any more words to describe it. I felt closer to him than I ever had in my life. I felt like we were one person. His back almost melted onto my chest, and finally he took his lips off of my neck.

"Damien, since I'm a hung stud with the biggest prick you've ever seen and felt, would you marry me?"

I smiled. "Yes. I would love to marry you."

And then we WERE one. All my lustrous feelings left me, and were replaced with deep romance. I could feel that he was the same way too. And he continued to fuck me, slowly rubbing back and forth against my prostate some more, I could feel the cum inside me. And because I was so tight against him, the cum didn't seep out or anything. He just kept fucking, holding me against him. I don't know why, but because I wasn't feeling as lustrous, I didn't moan as loud, they were more of sighs and moderately loud moans. But he still clearly heard them.

"Ohh. Oh. Ohh."

"Mmm.. Damien, I- ugh, I love you.."

"Oh goddd, Tucker, I love you more than you can imagine."

He fucked me for hours, and he didn't care if he passed five hours. Sweat, semen, and a deep love was enough for me. When he was finished he gently pulled out and reached into the garbage.

"I know it's been a day, and its used.. but," he held up the condom from last night, still covered in cum. "Until we get real rings.."

He ripped the thin latex part off the circular part and wound it into a ring.

"A ring covered in your cum? Why shouldn't I marry you?" I smiled at him and kissed him, shutting my eyes, and letting his arms close around me.

"When should our wedding be?"

I looked at the alarm clock. It was four o'clock on the morning. "Today."

He jumped out of bed, letting go of me. I made a soft cry of protest.

"Don't worry, I'll be back, I'm just going to call the priest at the town's church for a private wedding."

"Does he do gay marriage?"

He laughed and leaned down, kissing my lower lip, then he leaned back up. "If you haven't noticed, lovely, the town is filled with gay women and men. There aren't any straight people."

I smiled, and reached up to him, setting my hands on his cheeks gently and kissed him again, rubbing my nose softly against his. He smiled and got back on the bed, pulling the sheets quickly over us. Under them, he rolled on top of me, kissing me slowly and grinning. When he pulled away, I placed my thumb on his bottom lip, then slowly slid it down to his chin so we could kiss again. My back pushed me upwards, rolling him and I over so I was sitting on his stomach, leaning over his body. He chuckled softly in between the roll, and then kissed me again. Our fun was only for a short time, because I got a call on the phone from my mom. I leaned my head back, sighing, then I picked up my phone and answered, still completely nude and sitting on my yoga teacher's four-pack.

"Hi mom."

"Oh thank the heavens. You took a while to answer."

"Well you sort of woke me up, mom, it's four o'clock here."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Why are you calling at six o'clock anyway?"

"I figured you boys would be up this morning, taking a run or something work-out-like."

I scratched the back of my head, then looked down at Mr. Phillips, who had his eyebrow raised. "Yup, the last few hours I was awake were really exhausting. I feel like my legs might give way any minute."

I had to kiss Mr. Phillips for a little while to keep him from laughing. My mom was still talking on the phone, so she didn't know.

"Ugh, mom, can I go back to be-"

"Damien please don't interrupt me, you know I don't like that."

"It's four in the morning here, I want to sleep."

"Fine, but I want to talk to you sometime today. It's christmas."

"Bye now," I hung up the phone, then I set it down and turned back to Mr. Phillips. "I forgot that christmas was coming up."

"You didn't have to get me anything." He whispered, smiling.

"I feel so bad."

"Well, I got you something," He kissed me quickly. "Do you want it now?"

I nodded, and let him out of bed, but slapped his ass on his way out of the room, making him jump softly. Grinning, I sat up against the headboard, listening to a strange sound from upstairs. It was chittering. Of a bird? Mr. Phillips came back down with a small portable kennel in his hand. I couldn't see what was in it. I put my hand over my mouth. He set the kennel on the bed and opened the cage.

"Don't worry, it's trained." he told me.

A small ferret-like creature came out. It was red add had a striped tail. I almost fainted. He somehow knew what my favorite animal was. A red panda as a christmas present.

"Oh my gosh, Tucker, where did you get this?"

"It was on an ad on the internet, to adopt a baby red panda and save them from endangerment."

"Well we can't save from endangerment if there's only one."

"That thought came to my mind too, so.."

A second one stumbled out. It seemed a little different. It had a few different markings. It must've been the female. They quickly ran back into the cage as I jumped up to Mr. Phillips and kissed him again. He kissed me back, smiling.

"I love you." I told him.

"I love you too," he responded. "Let me go call the priest now."

I groaned. "Alright," And then I called as he left the room. "But get your cute ass back in here soon, the bed's cold without you!"

Then I looked at the kennel, where the two red pandas started to creep out again. I gently touched the male's fur, and it got a good first impression. The female was more timid, but eventually let me run my fingers through her fur too. They both crawled onto the sheets in my lap, the male chittering and the female just softly breathing. I looked around for something they could sleep on. Like the velvet recliner in the corner. I picked them both up and brought them over to it, then set them down on it, and they curled up next to each other. I quietly walked back to the bed, receiving a slap on the ass from Mr. Phillips, who came back in.

"You don't think I was gonna let you get away with that one without you getting a little," he squeezed the right cheek between his palm and fingers. "love from my hand, too."

I laughed and kissed him, slowly leaning back down onto the bed, pulling him after me. He pulled back after a few minutes of tongue and pressed his lips to my left shoulder briefly.

"We should probably get some sleep, today's gonna be a big day." he murmured.

I nodded and curled up to his front, letting him spoon me. He wrapped his arms around my chest like he did every night we slept together, and he rested his chin on my shoulder.

"Mmm," he slid his hands up and down my torso. "But the musk in here.."

He didn't have to finish the sentence. I understood where he was coming from, I had a complete hard-on right now, and from the pressure his meat was putting against my ass, I could tell he was getting one too. I let his fingers wander around my body and touch my wood. He didn't go further than touching, though, because he knew how critical it was for sleep. So, he just touched my body and let his pecker rub back and forth against my hole. And being the skin-sensitive cumslut I am, I moaned in response, and started to beg for him to put it inside of me. But he shook his head and only spooned me. I eventually gave up, and started getting soft again. I kept sighing in pleasure though, as he was still able to stay hard and keep rubbing against my ass. Eventually, he stopped, when I was half-asleep. I guess it helped both of us fall asleep, because minutes later he was snoring quietly into my ear, and the sound was making me even drowsier. So I fell asleep in his arms again.

I woke up at three, completely refreshed. My skin felt warm and my feet felt hot. Mr. Phillips' arms were still around me, and his head still next to mine, cheek to cheek. I shifted quietly, turning over onto my other side. His eyes were open, and he was staring at me, smiling. I leaned in and kissed him softly, pressing our chests together. Our abs touched each other. Our members flopped on top of each other, and our legs intertwined. I leaned back, wrapping my arms around his neck, while his arms had gone from wrapped around my chest, to my back, and now to my waist, placing each of his hands on my asscheeks, gently squeezing. We talked for about another hour, and then I borrowed a suit from him for the wedding.

We went to the wedding later that day, after picking out two golden wedding bands, and even though there was nobody there, he brought a bottle of champaign to share with me, and the rest of our guests (as I said, nobody was there except us.) We each said "I do" and kissed when we were supposed to. It was the best kiss I had ever had in my life. His hot breath mingled with mine, and our fingers locked together. after we started kissing vigorously with tongue and squeezing each others asses, the priest quietly told us to exit the church before we did something in the church that shouldn't be done in any church at all. We drove all the way back to the cabin, our fingers locked together. When we got to the cabin, I made the choice to finally come out to my parents, since everyone else I knew knew I was gay. So I called my mom.

"Hello?"

"Mom, it's me."

"Oh honey, you called like I asked."

"Yeah, merry christmas and everything. I got married."

She shrieked to my father, who I could hear came rushing over.

"Whose the lucky girl?" my dad asked.

"That's the thing, I wanted to tell you something."

"Well, what is it honey?" That was my mom.

"I got married to another man."

There was a silence for a few minutes. I started to tear up.

"Honey, I'm so proud of you." my mom softly cried.

"I'm glad," my dad said. "And I'm also proud. Whose the man?"

"It's Tucke- Mr. Phillips."

More silence.

"Oh my boy, I'm happy for you." I couldn't tell whose voice that was.

"Yeah, and we were thinking, since I'm eighteen now, I should get out of your hair and move in with him."

"Oh honey, we'll start packing your stuff." said my mom.

I was crying tears of joy now. I was so happy. I hung up and walked inside with Mr. Phillips, who made us a quick kick-off-anniversary dinner of quiche lorraine and salad. We undressed after dinner and spent the rest of the night covering each other's mouths in bittersweet kisses, and petting our new pets afterward. At the end of the night, I fell asleep in my new husband's arms again.