Just a Bit Dirty (Straight Guys 10)

This is sick, Ian. You’re sick. The memory of his ex-wife’s voice flashed through his mind, and Ian grimaced, pushing away. Regina’s opinion didn’t matter. It hadn’t mattered then and it sure as hell didn’t matter now. Ian knew his sexual preferences weren’t the most normal or politically correct, but he’d slept with enough women to know that he wasn’t the only person with that kind of fetish. Some of his one-night stands very much enjoyed how controlling he was in bed, his tendency to leave bruises, his tendency to be very rough during sex, his aggressiveness and desire to completely dominate his sexual partner.

They didn’t know the half of it.

They didn’t know how much worse he got if he was actually interested in more than just a one-night stand.

His first girlfriend, Alice, hadn’t been amused. “Look, don’t take it the wrong way. You’re… thrilling in bed, but I’m not like that, okay? You’re too intense for me. I want someone more normal.”

Intense. That was the word most of the women had used over the years as their relationships crashed and burned.

One of them, Barbara, hadn’t been as tactful as Alice. “You freak me out, Ian,” she had said as she broke up their engagement. “Like, different strokes for different folks and all that, but it’s not normal to want to own your girlfriend. You want your woman to be your possession, body, heart, and soul. It might turn you on, but it creeps me out. This is the twenty-first century. I’m not a thing, and I’m not willing to make my life revolve around a man’s desires, no matter how much I love him. I’m no one’s possession. I feel like I’m suffocating when I’m with you.”

Ian had liked Barbara a lot, and their breakup—and her words—had left a lasting impression.

So when he met Regina a few years later, he’d tried to rein himself in, pretend to be a normal, modern man with normal, low-key, politically correct desires. For a while, things had been… okay. She got pregnant and they got married, and while Ian felt like he was living a lie, he didn’t want to lose his wife too, so he gritted his teeth and kept on pretending. Until she cheated on him, and then their house of cards collapsed.

Turned out Ian hadn’t been the only one pretending to be someone he wasn’t. Regina had been pretending, too—to be a loving, dedicated wife. The real Regina wasn’t interested in being a housewife and a mother. The real Regina wanted to have fun. And for her, “fun” meant parties, men, and drugs.

“Tell me what to do,” Miles said again, bringing him back to the present.

Ian clenched his jaw, breathing deeply to clear the fog of arousal those words caused.

“This isn’t about me,” he said in a clipped voice. “Do whatever you want.”

Miles frowned but didn’t argue. He went back to giving Ian’s cock kittenish, clumsy licks that were more curious than sexual. It was painfully obvious how inexperienced he was. It went straight to Ian’s cock, making it harder than it had any right to be.

Fucking hell.

In hindsight, he should have probably expected that Miles’s inexperience would push his buttons. Of course he would fucking love that Miles was so inexperienced. Of course he would fucking love that his cock was the first one Miles had actually enjoyed sucking. Of course all of it would feed the fucked up, primitive animal that wore the skin of a modern man. Of course it would turn him on, regardless of Miles’s distinct lack of breasts and pussy.

And that was another thing: he didn’t feel anywhere near as revolted by the idea of sex with a man as he would have been if it were anyone other than this ridiculous British boy who said ridiculous things, disrespected him at every turn, and looked like a kicked puppy when Ian indicated that he didn’t want him.

That still didn’t explain how he ended up in this situation: sitting in his movie room, his fly open and his cock out for this boy to suck on. For his son’s male nanny to suck on, Jesus fucking Christ.

It wasn’t as though Ian had ever thought of himself as someone good and wholesome, but what he felt as he watched his son’s nanny take his cock into his mouth was—

Fuck.

The wet heat around his cock felt good of course, but Ian couldn’t deny that the visual and mental stimulation far overshadowed Miles’s amateur efforts. He liked how eager for him the boy was, eager and sloppy, saliva everywhere, as he fucked his mouth up and down Ian’s length, pink lips stretched wide.

Ian watched it in fascination, barely holding himself back. He wanted to ram his cock into Miles’s throat. He wanted to see those wide, mischievous green eyes fill with tears, feel Miles’s throat constrict around his cock. He wanted to slap Miles across his face before smearing his pre-come all over it and then shove his cock into that mouth. He wanted to fist Miles’s hair and facefuck him until Ian’s cock was the only thing that existed for him.