Goldilocks and His Three Bears (7 page)

“Hey!”

Paul pursed his lips, and all of the men looked at him expectantly. It was, after all, his place. And Brian was his. They knew it.

“I suppose you should move in with me,” said Paul finally. “There's enough room in the closet for your clothes and... ”

Brian was a wiggly, happy puppy in his lap. “Thank you, Daddy,” he whispered against his lips.

“We'll have rules,” said Paul.

“Yes, sir,” said Brian.

Paul's eyes went hot. Just like that. Brian kissed him again, then held his face and said softly. “I'm going to take a shower now, Daddy? Okay?”

Paul nodded, wordless.

Jim cleared his throat. “I feel that this is a couple's moment, Scott. Don't you?”

“Huh?” said Scott. Jim gave him a look full of meaning. “Oh! Yeah. Um, weren't you going to make some of those chocolate chip and walnut cookies, man?”

“I could use some help,” said Jim, rising smoothly and padding off to the kitchen. “Bring the bong,” he called back.

Brian climbed off his Daddy's lap and padded off to the bedroom.

Brian dried his hair, looking in the mirror over the sink and thinking. Something about his relationship with Paul was changing, the balance of power shifting ever so slightly. Living in Paul's house, sharing a room, Brian had to think about how he wanted that to be.

How did he want this relationship to be?

Paul was standing in the room when he came out of the shower. He held Brian's harness in his hands. Well, that helped Brian a little with his decision-making process. The harness and everything it symbolized should figure into this relationship.

“Did you clean yourself out, Brian?”

Brian nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”

Paul's eyes read him. He held out the harness, and Brian stepped into it. He fitted the buckles across his chest. Paul's mouth was on his neck when he fastened them.

“Are you a good boy, Brian,” he breathed.

Brian felt his heart rate increase. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Do you want to make your daddy happy?”

“Yes, sir,” whimpered Brian. Boy, did he ever.

“Brian, while we're in this room, I'm in charge. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

Paul's hands were on his arms, stroking. Brian could feel the man's heat against his back. “If anything makes you uncomfortable, you will tell me immediately. But otherwise you will do as I say.”

Brian nodded. “Yes, sir,” he whispered.

“Kneel,” said Paul simply. “And make me wet.”

Brian dropped to his knees and reached up to undo Paul's jeans. His Daddy's pretty cock poked out of the zipper, and Brian immediately set to work coating it with saliva.

“Okay. Good boy,” said Paul after a while. “Now wait for me on the bed.”

Brian crawled onto the bed and waited. After a few minutes, Paul crawled up behind him. His cock pressed into Brian's hole.

“You won't come,” said his Daddy. “Not this time.”

Brian whimpered.

Paul fucked him long and hard, long, smooth strokes that ended right up in Brian's throat. Paul's cock sliding across Brian's prostate sent lightning through his brain, but he gritted his teeth and tried to think of anything disgusting to hold off his orgasm.

Paul's strokes increased in tempo, and Brian had to reach up with one hand and grip his cock, squeezing the cock ring, to keep from coming. Then Paul shouted and froze against his backside. After a minute he drew out.

Brian's belly was a knot. His balls ached. His whole body was quivering and all he could think was
don'tcomedon'tcomedon'tcome.

“Lie down on the bed, Brian,” said Paul. “Spread your legs.”

Brian did so, his cock slapping against his belly. He still gripped it, legs moving restlessly on the mattress. “Daddy... ” he whined.

Paul reached down and released the ring. Brian cried out as the urge increased. He looked up at his Daddy, breathing fast, his whole body aflame.

“Come,” said Paul.

Brian stroked his cock once, gazing into Paul's ice blue eyes, and then he was arching and shooting and yelling.

Then he lay there breathing hard.

“That was very good,” said Paul. “You showed very good self-control, boy.”

Brian blinked. Paul had never called him that before. “Thank you, sir,” he said.

“Now lift your legs.”

He did and felt a slender dildo being inserted into his ass. A snap and a tug at the harness.

“Leave that until I tell you take it out,” said Paul. “We'll have to start out in small doses with it, but I want you to build up to where you can wear that all day sometimes.” He rolled to his feet, bringing his robe out and sliding his big arms into the sleeves. “Now go brush your teeth, sweetheart. And put on your robe. We should go back out and say good night to the others.”

“Yes, sir.”

It was weird moving around with the dildo inside him. Brian's orgasm had taken the edge off, but he was tingling again from the dildo's presence, and by the time he'd finished in the bathroom, he was half-hard.

Paul gave him a pair of boxers and his robe and led him back out to the living room where Jim and Scott were eating cookies in front of the TV.

“Hey!” Scott waved a cookie. “You guys done celebrating already? Thought you'd be gone the rest of the night.”

“No cookies tonight,” said Paul. He sat on the sofa. “Come here, Brian.”

Brian went dutifully, sat next to him.

They watched the game for some time. Paul occasionally reached over and fondled Brian beneath his robe. With the dildo and the attention, Brian was becoming very hard.

When the program ended, Jim stood and stretched. Paul looked up at him. “Jim, would you like some time with Brian?”

Jim's thick eyebrows rose eloquently. He looked at Paul and then at Brian. “Always,” he said.

“Brian, go tuck Jim into bed,” said Paul. “Leave in the dildo.”

Milk spurted from Scott's nose. He choked and coughed and stared, but he didn't say anything.

“Yes, sir,” said Brian. He stood with difficulty and followed Jim into his bedroom.

“Are you okay, Brian,” Jim asked, removing his shirt.

“Yes.”

Jim turned and looked him over, unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans, his head tipped quizzically as he regarded Brian. He smiled. “You look happy.”

“I am,” said Brian. “I feel... quiet.”

“Ah.” Jim nodded and took off his jeans, sat on the bed. He spread his legs and looked at Brian with hot eyes. “I'd like to see you.”

Brian dropped the robe. He felt...
pure
almost.

Jim's eyes smoldered. He crawled back and lay on his side, patting the bed next to him. “Let's sixty-nine, hon. I want to taste that.”

Brian scrambled up on the bed. They lay head to tail, and he felt peaceful, almost, as his orgasm climbed from his balls, up his spine and spread through his body. Jim moaned around his cock and shuddered, his hands gripping Brian a little tightly at the end.

“Thanks, hon.” He smiled down at him.

Brian threaded his fingers through Jim's beard. “Can you sleep with us tonight?”

“Ask Paul,” said Jim.

So Brian led Jim to the living room to ask Paul. Scott was seated on the floor, watching the news. He didn't look up when Brian came in, but when Brian asked Paul for permission, he stood, made a disgruntled noise, and headed for his bedroom.

Jim watched him go.

“Is Scott okay?” asked Brian.

Paul gave Jim a long look, but then he turned to Brian with a reassuring smile. “Sure, honey. Scott's only tired.” He clapped a hand on Jim's shoulder and kept it there. “Good to have you back, man.”

Then Brian led his men to bed.

Jim came home from the store and found Brian sitting in the midst of a sea of empty cookie packages, with an empty carton of Haagen-Dazs fudge ripple on the table in front of him, working his way through a box of Ho Hos, washing them down with chocolate milk.

“Jim! Jim Jim Jim!” Brian bounced over and gave him a snuggly hug, practically climbing the big man.

“Whoa you little tree squirrel.” Jim held him at arm's length, eyes speculative. “What's going on here?”

“Chocolate.” Brian bounced. “I had a craving.”
Bounce.

Jim caressed his beard thoughtfully. “Brian, didn't Paul tell you to stay away from sweets?”

“But I was
hungry
.” Brian bounced in place, bounced into Jim, wiggled, bounced away.

“I have to tell him, honey,” said Jim regretfully.

Bounce
. “What do you mean?” Brian followed Jim from the door to the kitchen, resembling Tigger, while Jim dialed his cell phone.

“You disobeyed him, Brian.” Jim gave him a sympathetic look.

Brian's bounce wasn't quite as enthusiastic. “Oh.”

Alerted by Jim's call, Paul left work early. By the time he got home, Brian was sitting on the couch in a miserable ball of sugar crash and headache. Jim sat next to him, helpfully holding an icepack to the back of Brian's neck. They both looked up when Paul came through the door.

He shed his office wear. He said, as he did so, “Brian, did I forbid you to eat sugar?”

Brian sulked.

Paul turned fully toward him, big arms crossed across his chest.

“Brian?”

“Yes.”

Paul's eyebrows went straight up. “Yes, what?”

Brian pouted. His head was pounding. His hands were shaking and swollen, and he felt horrible. Paul sighed. “Go to our room, Brian. I'll be in to talk to you in a bit.”

Brian gave him a look, but he stood and padded off.

“Take a shower and prepare yourself,” called Paul as Brian walked away.

Brian whirled about. “Are you kidding? I'm sick.”

Paul stared at him in shock. “Go to your room, young man!”

Brian whirled around and stomped off, slamming the bedroom door as he went.

Paul rubbed his bald pate. “I'm all at sea here.”

“You'll do the right thing,” Jim said.

Paul looked at him.

Jim gave him an encouraging nod. “He needs you to be clear about this, Paul.”

“I wish I could be sure.”

“He ate every bit of sugar he could find. I'm surprised he didn't throw up from it. Or go into some kind of hyperglycemic coma. He's testing you, Paul.”

Paul nodded. He eyed the closed bedroom door, and with a definite air of a man girding his loins and preparing for battle, he walked toward the room.

Brian took his time cleaning himself out. He was so furious at first he could barely hold the enema hose steady. But the warm water helped, and then he bothered to do it right. He shaved himself and washed his hair, and then he stood in the shower, letting the spray beat down on the back of his neck awhile.

By the time he had the towel wrapped around his hips and padded into the bedroom, his outrage had settled into a kind of nervous anticipation.

He'd messed up. He'd been worried for weeks that he would, and now he'd done it. Paul had looked pretty angry when he'd sent him to the shower. Angry and a little betrayed, even. Like he hadn't expected this of Brian.

The harness was worn enough so it fitted over him like an old pair of jeans, comfortable and comforting. Brian focused his mind wholly on the act of buckling himself in. His hands shook, and he realized he was scared. Not of Paul, though. Brian had to stop and rest, both palms on his knees, and take deep breaths for a few minutes.

Brian was scared that this wasn't going to work, he and Paul. He looked up at the closed bedroom door, licking his lips nervously.

The cock and ball ring was something Paul would expect, but the dildo he fastened to the harness and slid inside himself would be, he hoped, a pleasant surprise.

He pulled a pillow from the bed, turned down the lights, and knelt on the pillow. Head bent and hands folded behind himself.

He was breathing a little hard, he could admit that. They'd been approaching this act by inches. They hadn't said the words, but Brian knew that this was where they were going. And he suddenly realized, kneeling there in the dark, the room so still it seemed to be holding its breath, that he, Brian, had told Paul that he wanted to go there wholly. And now...

What worried Brian the most was that Paul might not want to take him there.

He kept his head bowed, eyes on the floor, when he heard the door open.

There was a long silence. The door clicked softly shut. Paul's step on the floor, until Brian could see his feet there. Oh, God, he thought. I love his feet.

“Brian.” Paul's voice was struggling for authority over the emotion so obviously there. “Look at me.”

Brian raised his eyes. I love his ankles, his knees. Who wouldn't love those thighs. Oh, God. He looked up. “I love you,” he said.

Paul laid his fingers on Brian's head. Brian could feel his Daddy's hand shaking. “Do you know what you need, Brian?”

Brian had been ready for this question. He'd thought about it for a long time. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. Looked up at Paul with clear eyes.

“No,” he said. “But you do.”

Paul nodded. “Okay,” he whispered. “Stand up and kneel on the bed, Brian.”

Brian stood. His knees were a little stiff from kneeling and waiting for Paul, and his Daddy helped him to stand steadily, to walk to the bed. Helped him kneel on hands and knees on the bed. Paul ran his hands over Brian's harness, in that habitual way of his. And Brian felt the energy in the room go up about a hundred notches when Paul's fingers found the butt of the dildo.

“Good boy,” whispered Paul. Daddy stroked his crease gently and made tingles travel up and down Brian's ass, to his spine, to his balls. “Good boy. We'll leave this here, Brian.”

Brian swallowed. Nodded.

Paul crossed the room and opened his closet. There was a pause while he dug around in the back. Brian knew about the back of Paul's closet. He'd not poked around in it because he kind of knew that whatever was back there was something he wasn't ready to see until Paul showed him.

A fluttery, soft, cool sensation on his ass.

“Brian.” Paul's voice was in control now. Smooth. “This is a hand flog. It won't cut you or leave permanent marks, do you understand?”