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  Last, but by no means least, is the good and plenty. The one my gentleman caller is currently packing. The good and plenty’s head and shaft are equal in size. The heft is good, not too thin and is amazing when you’re getting pounded. The fullness is incredible—but I digress again—back to the bearded hottie.

  He didn’t have much of a butt. It was kinda small, like two firm pancakes. He did, however, have nice legs and huge feet. Flashing me his killer smile, he extended his hand.

  “Avery.”

  I took his hand in mine and shook it firmly. “Martin,” I replied. “Nice to meetchya.”

  We fell silent and I wondered what to say next when he beat me to it.

  “I would say do you come here often, but I wouldn’t know, this is my first time here.” His pale cheeks were flushed.

  “I’ve heard that before,” I retorted sarcastically and instantly chided myself as his warm gaze cooled. “Sorry. No filter at times.”

  He shrugged. “Apology accepted.” He stretched his legs and swished them in the water causing ripples. “Nice night.”

  Dear Lord this is ridiculous.

  I leaned over and kissed his pale shoulder. I could smell his scent over the chlorine and it made my mouth water. “It is now. Can I kiss you?” I know I was being pushy but I was so horned up and he was just my type.

  “Yeah.” His lips found mine and I was in heaven. His breath was hot on my cheeks and his beard tickled my face. Warm and firm, his lips pressed against mine, his hand came up and cupped the back of my head as his tongue ghosted over my lips, asking for entrance. Moaning, I opened my mouth and his tongue pushed in. His tongue laved over my teeth and dueled with mine. The taste of Dr. Pepper and Altoids flooded my sense of smell and taste. I swooned, literally. I swayed and his arms wrapped around me, pulling me to his chest. Dang, he was strong, a wiry strong. I molded my upper body to his and slid my hands down his stomach, which quivered under my fingertips as I went lower. Carding my fingers in his thick bush, I wrapped my hand around his shaft. I gave him a smooth tug and he growled into my mouth.

  He yanked my head back and our lips parted. His heated gaze burned into mine and I lost my breath. This is what I wanted, this animalistic need from a man. I stroked him again.

  “Need to taste you.” I heard the plea in my voice but didn’t care.

  Smiling, he stood up; rising from the water and his cock nearly hit me in the nose. He grabbed my head and aimed his cock at my lips. His hands were rough, demanding and he growled huskily, “Open up, Red.”

  I whimpered. Dang if I didn’t freakin’ love a dominant man. A man who knew what he wanted. And what Avery wanted now was my mouth, which I readily gave to him. Opening wide, I let him guide his cock into my mouth and I clamped my lips around the warm, salty shaft. It was thick and was maybe seven inches long. He grunted and pushed further causing me to take a quick breath as his cock touched the back of my throat. I didn’t gag. When I was fourteen I had my tonsils out and ‘bye-‘bye gag reflex. Best and only good thing my parents ever did for me. His balls hit my chin and I smiled around his shaft. I loved sucking cock. Hell, it‘s my favorite thing to do, hands down. He pulled back out and I sucked hard on the glans, running my tongue around it. Avery shuddered and thrust back down my throat.

  “Fuck! Do that again,” he barked and I happily complied. He began fucking my face and I sucked as he did, trying to jack my cock. Being in the water made it difficult, but not impossible. I slid my free hand up his legs and I fondled his smooth balls. When I tugged on them, Avery’s head fell back and he groaned loudly. I was dimly aware of men watching us on the periphery. It didn’t matter. I was focused on giving this lanky stud the knob job of his life. Avery grunted and panted above me and the tang of pre-cum on my tongue made my cock spasm with pleasure. Avery’s thrusts grew faster and more erratic. His orgasm was almost here. My own was rushing at me and I didn’t try to stop it. The water splashed as I yanked my dick furiously. I was going to be so sore, come morning.

  “Gonna cum, Red. Down the hatch!” Again, he’d called me Red. It wasn’t the time to correct him and a mouthful of cock kept me silent, except for the slurping sounds I made as his hips pistoned like mad. He suddenly stiffened, shoved himself deep down my throat and exploded. He shuddered and gasped as his cock pulsed. I swallowed with each stream, keeping up with his climax. The muskiness of his crotch was so strong. I wanted to bath in the scent! Then I came—hard. I shuddered as I shot into the water. He slowly fucked my face and I rode my own orgasm. He finally let my head go and his softening cock slipped out of my mouth. I sucked in a lungful of air and wipe my eyes. I’d actually teared up during his pounding.

  Chest heaving, he stumbled back, falling. I grabbed his hand to steady him then I felt it. A spark from his touch. The post-come haze dissipated from his face and he flushed red. All around us men were jacking themselves off.

  Was he embarrassed?

  He shouldn’t be. It’s a sex club and guys love to watch. Dropping my hand, he stepped out of the water and I followed. I touched his shoulder and he jerked around.

  “I was wonderin’ if I could get your number.” I wanted a repeat with beard boy.

  Shaking his head, he pulled away from me. “I-I can’t. I shouldn’t have done this. I-I’m sorry.”

  He strode across the pool area and disappeared through the door back into the club, leaving me naked and confused. I stood there, stunned. Had I done something wrong? Sighing, I mentally kicked myself.

  Just another quick trick.

  But who was I kidding? I wasn’t going to find the love of my life in a sex club. Shoulders sagging, I walked back into the seedy sex club, dodging groping hands and waving off offers. It was amazing, when the need to come goes away, how frighteningly lucid the male brain becomes. I made my way to the locker room and changed back into my street clothes, leaving the club. I sprinted across the parking lot and used the key fob to open the doors to my Buick sedan. Opening the door, I got in, closed up then clicked the seatbelt in place. I turned over the engine, pulled out of the lot and joined the late evening traffic.

  Ten minutes later, I pulled the car onto my driveway and killed the engine. Getting out, I locked up and walked to the side door of my modest house. I lived just inside the loop in a sixteen hundred square foot bungalow. Craftsman style, I’d bought it as a fixer upper two years ago. With its three bedrooms, two baths, a nice sized living-room and kitchen; it reminded me of Roseanne and Dan Conner’s house except it didn’t have an upstairs. As I entered the kitchen, I turned and locked up before flicking on the lights. I crossed to the fridge and pulled out an English Stout, my favorite. Popping the top, I chugged down half the bottle then belched loudly. The sound echoed amid the silent rooms. When I was house hunting I specifically wanted three bedrooms so I would have a place for Poppy to stay and a spare bedroom for guests. I have her every other weekend and Wednesdays. The rest of the time she’s at Jackie and Matthew’s house. Luckily for me they only lived ten minutes away.

  I stripped off in the kitchen and tossed my clothes through the door into the laundry room, mostly hitting the laundry basket. Admittedly, I’m a slob… no… I take that back. I’m clean but I tend to clutter things. I have an annual purge each year to prevent my cluttering from evolving into full blown hoarding. Nan suggested purging once a year after a stack of books fell on me. I agreed with her, as I didn’t want to be one of those people found dead under a pile of his own junk. The need to accumulate things came from a childhood of having nothing. My parents had barely fed and clothed us. Since the annual purging began, my place is so much neater. It’s still an ongoing issue but I’m aware of it.

  I kinda have some a few eccentricities. I have ADD, I’m a borderline hoarder, I eat things oddly and I have an insatiable need to be dominated by a man. But apart from that, I do have my good traits.

  Dang it, I’m quite a package when it boils right down to it.

  I’m a good father, a hard worker and Nan says I�
�m like a bulldog where my family is concerned. I can say anything I want about them, but if anyone else says any crap about them, I’ll beat the snot out of the mouthy miscreant. Oh and I don’t cuss. It’s not that I can’t, I just prefer not to. It’s one of my many quirks. I am, by nature, a chatterbox and I hate silences. Graham would have to smack me upside the head to make me shut up at times when we were growing up. My smart mouth used to rile up my dad and I would get a beating for it.

  Enough! Dad’s dead. And you haven’t spoken to mom in years. All is good in the universe.

  Except…

  I’m lonely. Stupid huh? I have a great little girl. My ex and I are still friends. I have a great family. What I don’t have is someone to share it with. I’ve dated. Boy, have I dated, but nothing ever seemed to pan out. I wanted the whole thing, you know, love, home, partner and all that jazz and most guys just wanted a quick lay. This is why I’m still single. I deserve more—dang it!

  Turning off the kitchen lights, I used the bathroom and emptied my bladder before I padded into my bedroom. I turned down the covers and slipped naked between the cool sheets. I was so used to my home I hadn’t even turned on the lights. I could walk around in the dark or, heck, even blindfolded and wouldn’t hit a thing. Settling onto my back, I stared up at the ceiling fan I had automatically flicked on before getting into bed. The cool breeze and white noise it provided had lulled me to sleep on many a night.

  I touched my swollen lips and hissed at the mild beard burn on my chin. Dang it, Avery knew how to kiss. Frowning, I rolled over and closed my eyes.

  You ever have a moment when you think that something wonderful has just slipped through your fingers? I just did.

  *

  I jumped out of my sedan and hurried up the porch steps to Jackie’s house. Four uneventful weeks had passed since my tryst with Avery at the club and the only thing on the horizon I had to look forward to was my little girl’s first day of first grade. Her school supplies had been purchased. The first day outfit picked out and new backpack had been packed. All was in order, until Jackie and Matthew came down with a raging case of food poisoning the Saturday before school started. Holy moly, those two were sicker than a dog. Sunday rolled around and they were still under the weather so, with tears in her eyes and great reluctance, Jackie told me she wasn’t going to be able to go and neither was Matthew to Poppy’s first day of school. We’d planned on all three of us seeing Poppy off but, as soon as I’d entered their house, the smell of puke and unwashed bodies made my own stomach lurch.

  “Jackie? Matthew? Poppy?”

  “In here!” A weak voice called out. I followed the voice down the hallway and heard retching from the bathroom as I passed the door. Thank goodness Poppy hadn’t had the same nacho’s her mother and Matthew had shared. I found Jackie lacing up Poppy’s sneakers. Jackie Anderson was a beautiful woman, blonde and slim, funny and sassy, she had rocked my world. I was immediately drawn to her and for a few brief moments it was perfect. Until we realized we were so much alike we got on each other’s nerves. That same vibrant woman was not present today. With a sallow cast to her complexion, Jackie looked like she was going to hurl at any moment. The barfing sounds I’d heard must have been Matthew.

  “Dang! You guys got bad stuff comin’ outta both ends, dontcha?”

  Poppy giggled and Jackie rolled her eyes. My little girl was so adorable it hurt. Big blue peepers gazed up at me and strawberry blonde hair hung in waves down her back, held loosely in place with a purple ribbon; purple was her signature color. She wore a Hello Kitty T-shit and a pair of jeans with purple sneakers completing the outfit.

  “Hi Daddy!” she chirped as her mother finished tying her shoes.

  “Hey, sweetie. You ready for your first day?”

  “Yes!” She brandished her backpack as she jumped down from her bed. Poppy’s face was alight with excitement and I smiled fondly.

  That’s my girl, fearless as always.

  “Did you eat breakfast already?” That got me a nod. “Good. Do me a favor, go say ‘bye to Matthew through the bathroom door okay?”

  “Sure, Daddy.” She skipped off and I looked back at my ex.

  “You hangin’ in there Jacks?” I held out my hand and she used it to get up from where she had been sitting on the floor.

  “Thanks, Martin.” She swallowed thickly. “Better today. Better than Matthew.” More retching noises came from the hall and were followed by my little girl’s singsong voice telling Matthew goodbye. I heard a muffled ‘love you, Poppy’ before the puking sounds resumed.

  “You guys should go to an Urgent Care. How about I swing by after droppin’ Poppy off and take you two in to get seen?”

  Jackie almost collapsed in relief. “God, thank you, Martin.” Blinking back sudden tears, Jackie’s lower lip trembled. “I can’t believe I’m missin’ this.”

  I hugged her then urged her forward into the hallway. We found Poppy waiting for us in the living-room, so I settled Jackie into one of the chairs and knelt down to check my baby over. “You excited, sweetie?”

  “Yes! I can’t wait to go to school. Imagene and Margarite are gonna be in my class!”

  Well, at least she’ll have her little posse with her.

  I checked my watch. “Time to go, Poppy. Give Mommy a kiss and a hug.” Poppy fairly danced over to her mother and fell into her embrace. Jackie hugged her hard until Poppy squirmed and she reluctantly let her go.

  “Have a good day, baby girl. Matthew and I will be waitin’ for you when you come home. Daddy will pick you up.” She gave Poppy a quick peck on the cheek.

  “I will, Mommy. Feel better.” And with the attention span of a typical seven-year old, she was out the door to my car.

  “Don’t go into the road! Wait for me!” I hollered. I smiled as she stopped by the car and waited dutifully. “I’ll be back in few okay?” I said to Jackie.

  Jackie gave me a sallow smile. “Don’t worry we’ll be here.” I spied Matthew coming down the hall on in a pair of house pants. He opened his mouth to say something, changed his mind and ran back into the bathroom.

  “’Bye, Jacks.”

  “’Bye, Martin.

  *

  My precious daughter had inherited a distinctive trait from me. She was a chatterbox, too. The entire ride to school was filled with news about her friends, her favorite TV show and her latest favorite outfit. I have to admit, I was glad to see Hawthorne Elementary. Parking the car, I killed the engine then climbed out. I trotted around the hood to let her out and she took my hand as we started up the stone sidewalk to the entrance of the school. Inside, we turned the corner toward her teacher, Ms. Greco’s, room. One of the new things enacted by the school was that the parents came a few days before school started to see the class room and meet the teacher, so I knew where we were going. But I was so wrapped up in Poppy’s chatter we nearly collided with a man and his little boy. I hadn’t seen them at all.

  “I’m so sorry!” I apologized and turned to them—then froze. “Avery?”

  If it was possible for a pale man to get any paler, he did. His eyes widened in disbelief as he audibly gulped. “Martin?”

  Chapter 2

  Avery

  You know, I try to do the right thing, I really do. I don’t smoke much. I only drink occasionally. I’m good to my momma and Mawmaw. I tolerate my brothers. I give to charity. I think I’m doing pretty good; so why is karma biting such a big chunk outta my ass? The day had started out nice enough.

  I woke up at six, like I always do. I’ve been an early riser for as long as I can remember. My brothers, Boone and Cotton unlike me, slept until the last minute when we were in school. They used to tumble out of bed, sniffing shirts and pants, trying to find something clean and run out the door, always late for the bus. Me, I was an organizer. I was showered, dressed and had eaten breakfast long before my siblings even cracked a crusty eye open.

  The sun wasn’t even up as I rolled out of bed and tiptoed to Peg’s room. I cracke
d the door and peeped in. My rugrat lay in a twist of pajamas and bed sheets—still zonked out— which meant I had maybe an hour before he woke up. I padded down the silent hall to the kitchen. Not surprisingly my mother, Lynda, was already showered and dressed for the day and sat nursing her first cup of coffee at the kitchen table. Her job at City of Hope would be starting in about an hour where she worked as a nurse in Labor and Delivery.

  Me? I was going into work after dropping Peg off for his first day of first grade.

  My feet slapping on the linoleum floor, I walked across the room and dropped a kiss on the top of her head as I passed her chair. I smelled lilacs, probably from her shampoo, and mumbled, “Morning, Momma.”

  “Morning, Avery.”

  I picked up the coffee pot and poured myself a cup. Two sugars later, I plopped down next to her at the kitchen table and heaved a contented sigh. I loved this quiet morning time with her. I can’t remember when we didn’t have this time together—me and her. We’d had this morning ritual for almost twenty years. The first time I can remember getting up this early with her was her very first day back to work as a nurse.

  Before my mother had married my father, she’d worked as a nurse. After she found out she was pregnant, she decided to become a stay at home mom. I know, from Mawmaw, my grandmother, she hadn’t worked for the first three years of our lives. It took all her energy just to take care of us, but that changed drastically when my parents separated and divorced. I can’t recall much of the waste of skin that was my father, except that Momma had to go back to work immediately when he left us. I was a grown man of twenty before she admitted she hadn’t received a dime of child support. Our household depended on her income alone and it was a heavy burden she’d dealt with without complaint.