Q, Whatever

Caleb

We’re lounging on a plaid, beside the lake, the smell of our strawberries and cherries snack basket mixing with the fresh scent of sweet water and pine needles and trees, some other chalet far away from ours probably enjoying a fireplace, because Casey turns to me, from his lying position on his back beside me and grins. Rolling lazily on me, he bites my lips, gently. “Smell that?”

“Hmm. I’d think it’s too warm for a fire now...”

“No, you ... oh, you were kidding. Right.”

He sighs, a long-suffering sound that he accompanies with a huge roll of his eyes and I slap his ass, making him laugh. “Brat.”

He laughs again and leaves a lingering kiss on my lips. “After twenty-fives years together, you’re still calling me that.”

“I will always call you that, because it’s who you are. A brat. My brat.”

He wiggles on me, and I growl. “Behave...”

“Or else?”

“Oh you fucking minx.”

Ignoring his squeals and laughter, I roll him around, pulling his hands up above his head, and roll my hips on him, making him purr. “Something you want to add, brat?”

“No... maybe, only, a request, if I may?”

I push myself against him again, making him and myself groan. “Hm? What do you need, sweet one?”

He stretches his head forward to take a nip of my lower lip and buck his hips once. “You. In me. Please?”

With no consideration whatsoever for my aging spine, I stand up, pull him with me and wrap him in my arms, carrying him back to the chalet, the sound of my bare feet stepping on the grass drowned into his gale of laughing objections, “But Caleb, our picnic”

“Fuck the picnic, leave the berries to the squirrels. Your ass is mine.”

“Oooh, I like the sound of that.”

Still laughing together, we close the door behind us and I throw him on our bed, jumping on him to pull his shorts in one go, lifting a brow at him. “Commando? Were you prepared to seduce me?”

His bursting laughter makes me feel too many things at once, and despite all these years together, I’m still not used to that explosion of so many things in my chest, warmth, pride for the man who laughs at life, pride for myself for being able to make him glow like this, an intense and incommensurable love large enough to swallow the sun, endearment for the golden stubble on his chin and cheeks. I’m in love, immensely, profoundly and hopelessly in love with this man, my golden man.

Who is still laughing and shaking his head. “No, these are my swimming trunks! Should I add briefs and underwear beneath that then?”

“Oh no, I like you naked and at my disposal.” Leaving him no time to react to that, I nuzzle the crease of his hip, where I feel I’m home, the fresh scent and warmth as enticing now as always, and start my way of kisses and nips all over him, marking him, once more, the way he likes, before swallowing his cock and pleasuring him, stroke after stroke, drag after drag, until he arches, moaning loudly, losing his fingers in my curls to press my face down, and spills himself in my mouth, in long throbbing spurts.

Only when he’s small and soft again do I slip up, kissing my way as I go, finding the lube under my pillow and using it to stretch him, not too long, giving him that edge he loves when I slide in him, push my way in again and again, drinking his moans and breaths, his pleas, like they’re the only thing I need to live. And maybe they are. Our bodies finding their familiar rhythm, and still shivering like it was the first time, we make love, slow, sweet and deep love, until the heat of his body squeezing mine brings me over the edge.

Laying down on him, our breathing back to its regular calm, we listen to the sounds of the wind, a duck on the lake, a woodpecker living its best life somewhere close, and the glowing man underneath me smiles, green eyes intense on me, soft hands framing my face. “You feel that? You hear that? The warmth of my body under yours, the twitches of the pleasure we just shared. The warmth of the sun still on your skin. The trees, telling us their stories again. Years from now, we’ll speak about this moment, and we still remember. We’ll still feel it, the taste of each other on our tongues, the scent of each other on our skin. We’ll still feel it, the little shivers that pleasure left in us. This, Caleb, is why love is immortal. Why happiness is forever. Long after these perfect moments last, they still exist in us. Forever.”

How did I ever get so lucky... But there’s nothing to add to his words, so I kiss him again, stroke his tongue with mine, his taste familiar and so sweet, and confirm. “You and me, Casey. Forever.”

The end

You made it! Thank you for reading this story of hope and love. If you liked it, please hit the ❤️ and the little stars, I would appreciate a written review as well.

And as always, be well, and be kind :)

F.