Where The Heart Is: A Bay City Paranormal Investigations story

“Dean’s…um…eating right now. Can I bring…uh…bring him home later tonight? I promise not to keep him too late.”
Sommer pumped his hips, driving himself deep into Dean’s throat. Dean relaxed and let Sommer fuck his mouth. Being taken like this, head held still in a firm grip while Sommer’s thick cock plundered his mouth, excited him tremendously. He rolled Sommer’s balls between his fingers, drawing the musky scent deep into his lungs every time Sommer pulled back enough for him to breathe.
Above him, Sommer panted out a promise to call Kerry if Dean was staying later than eight. Dean swallowed around Sommer’s prick, making him yelp and twitch. There was a click as Sommer hung up the phone, then a sharp tug on Dean’s hair, yanking his head back. He stared up into Sommer’s eyes, licking his lips.
“Get up,” Sommer growled. “Take your clothes off.”
Dean hurried to obey. Rising to his feet, he ripped his sweater over his head and tossed it aside, then reached down to pull off his shoes and socks. The jeans and underwear came off next, and Dean stood stark naked under Sommer’s burning gaze. The wooden floor felt cool under his bare feet. His nipples pebbled in the chill of the drafty old kitchen.
“Nice,” Sommer whispered, staring at Dean’s exposed cock. “You’re still wearing the plug.”
“Haven’t taken it off.” Dean rubbed his thumb over the curve of the snake’s tail. “I like how it feels. And I especially like that it makes me think of you.”
An indefinable expression fleeted through Sommer’s eyes. Closing the distance between them, Sommer pulled Dean to him and took a soft, tender kiss. The tip of his tongue traced Dean’s bottom lip in a languid caress before he drew away. “Bend over that chopping block behind you.”
Dean’s knees almost buckled. Shooting Sommer a wide-eyed look, Dean turned around to face the low wooden chopping block in the middle of the kitchen floor. It was wide and sturdy, perfect for fucking on. Stretching his body in a way he knew was enticing as hell, Dean bent over and rested his cheek on the scarred and stained wood. He arched his back and opened his thighs, presenting himself for Sommer’s pleasure.
Cool palms slid up the backs of his thighs, smoothing over his ass and spreading his buttocks apart. Dean jerked and cried out when a warm, wet tongue lapped at his hole. “Oh God. Sommer…”
“Mmmm.”
The tongue stiffened, probed and twisted, the tip worming itself inside Dean. Whimpering, he clutched the edges of the block in a white-knuckled grip. Sommer’s tongue plunged deep into his ass, Sommer’s fingers sliding down to toy with the steel rod in his prick. Pleasure thrummed through his blood, making his head spin.
“Uh. God,” he gasped. “Fuck me.”
Sommer’s tongue slipped from his hole and was replaced by two fingers before Dean could protest. “Can’t. I’m out of condoms.”
Dean let out an undignified whimper. He rocked his hips backward, forcing Sommer’s fingers deeper. “Please.”
“I can’t use my cock on you. Not without protection.” Soft hair tickled Dean’s back as Sommer leaned over him, mouthing the crests of his shoulder blades. “All I have is my hands.”
Yeah. His sexy fucking hands. Even in his lust-addled state, the hinted possibilities in Sommer’s words did not escape Dean’s notice. Summoning every ounce of concentration he could, Dean managed to form a question.
“Have you fist fucked someone before?” Dean’s words came out in a breathless rush.
“Yes. The last man I was in a relationship with loved being fisted.” Sommer’s fingers twisted in Dean’s ass, zinging over his gland and ripping a cry from his throat. “You?”
“Yeah. Been a long time, though.” Dean moaned, hips swaying as Sommer’s careful fingers massaged his gland. “Oh God. Not…not here.”
“Mm. Right.” Leaving two fingers lodged deep in Dean’s ass, Sommer straightened up, wrapped his free arm around Dean’s waist and pulled him to a standing position. “Bathroom first. We’ll get you cleaned out.”
Trembling, Dean twisted sideways, wound an arm around Sommer’s waist and leaned against him. He let Sommer lead him down the hall, through the bedroom and into the big, bright bathroom. Sommer’s fingers remained inside him, making him feel strangely safe.
The fingers only withdrew when Sommer nudged Dean onto hands and knees on the thick green bathmat. Dean whimpered his distress at the