Negotiations 47
The next installment. Just letting it go where it wants to go. Thanks to everyone who reached out after my last chapter with a kudos or comment. I needed it. Hope everyone is doing well. Please let me know you're still reading. ~Plum
Go back to Negotiations 46 or start at the beginning.
NEGOTIATIONS 47
JUSTIN’S POV
Everybody in Brian’s world knew to never bother him on his birthday, a habit so practiced that it was a rut deep enough to nestle him in the perfect cocoon of denial. It’s what made his fiftieth birthday perfect for him, an ironic non-gift decades in the making.
The kitchen was spotless after your breakfast explosion when you and Brian got in your car and headed out to a local walking trail around Bart’s Lake near your home. It was Brian’s idea, and you’d taken extra allergy meds to ward off the exuberance of a perfect April day. Not even a hundred steps in and you heard the familiar click of his lighter.
“Come on, really?” you objected.
“What? We’re outside.”
“We’re exercising,” you tried.
“We’re walking and we’re outside. C’mon now.”
You reminded yourself that it was his special day and dropped it. The smoke blew right in your face, so you urged him, “Switch sides with me.”
“Okay.” Brian looped behind to get to your other side. “Better?” he asked.
“Yes. Thank you.”
The pace of the walk kept changing and rather than chastising your partner whose legs were already way longer than yours, you adjusted your speed and kept quiet about it. It was still morning so only the serious and/or habit formed walkers were on the trail with you. Not a one of them spoke to the two of you and you were fine with that. Brian had asked you to come along; you didn’t invite yourself. He wanted you there…
You’d asked, “Anything special you want to do today?”
“I think I want to get outside. Maybe walk the lake?”
“Really?” This was so much better than a Johnny Walker reunion. You hid your relief. “By yourself, you mean?”
Brian laughed, “Yeah, right, by myself. No, dummy, with you.”
…..
As you got about three quarters of the way around, Brian stopped at a familiar dirt path and took your hand, “Let’s go to that big rock.”
“Sure, okay,” you agreed, but then you stopped and pulled him back a little, “But I don’t want to fuck here.”
Brian rolled his eyes at you for the second time that day, “You never have to fuck outside again, okay? You don’t need to worry.”
He was purposely messing with you because years ago, the two of you did fuck on that rock at dusk one day in early May and a fucking bee stung your butt, well, practically your taint, right when you were about to come. You’d screamed and then panicked because you couldn’t remember if you were allergic to bees and you didn’t have an epi-pen and you didn’t want to die on a fucking rock, so Brian broke down and got you to stop freaking out (whatever, it really hurt), and call your Mom and ask her. She said you weren’t allergic and asked what you were doing and Brian said, “Gardening,” really loudly which was stupid because no one fucking gardens at dusk.
“Well, honey, are you okay?” your Mom had asked, “You sound panicky.”
“Yeah, I just freaked.”
“You have an epi in the house, don’t you? Just use it if you’re scared.”
You couldn’t say that you were naked from the waist down on a fucking rock in a public park, so all you could think of was, “It’s expired.”
Brian’s entire upper body was a mime in hysterics at that point.
Your Mom continued, “Sweetheart, it’s probably okay to use, but you can talk to me fine so I don’t think you’re having any breathing problems. You were stung at Grandpa’s once, remember? You stepped on a bee.”
“Okay, I must’ve blocked that out.”
“Well, you were fine then; you’re probably remembering your sister’s allergic reaction, so just try to calm down, okay? Is Brian with you?”
Had she not heard him yell, ‘Gardening!?’
It gave you an out, albeit a dumb one, “No, no, he’s inside.”
“Well, let me call him. Just settle down. You’re in the backyard?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, I’ll call him. Just breathe.”
So you had to sit there while she called Brian who was right next to you and he played it perfectly, shocked and worried and getting that expired pen immediately. “…Justin, I’m coming!” he’d backed up and yelled for effect before hanging up with her and cackling on the rock like a witch in heat.
You wanted the stinger out immediately but it was too dark, so you’d walked back to the car pissed and in pain. “Brian, if that bee had stung your balls instead, you’d be Medi-vacced to an ER right now so stop laughing at me,” you groused.
“He had better odds stinging you. I only have one ball, remember?” You’d slapped him for that. “Don’t sit right on it. Lay on your side,” Brian ordered as he drove.
“Fuck nature,” you’d pouted.
“I should’ve told you in advance that we were having a threesome,” your idiot husband offered.
“A fucking bee-some, maybe.”
Brian’s laugh became a snort, “We had a bee-some! Wait, no, a foursome because your mom was there, too. Priceless.”
“Just shut up and drive.”
“You can’t blame that bee. He clearly agrees with me that your ass is the nectar of the gods. He must’ve gotten trapped during the thrusting.”
“I wanted to ride you, but, no, you had to be on top.”
“Your face when it happened…epic, I swear. You looked so violated.”
“Stop it. I’m so pissed. My ass is swelling and it’s gonna look horrific.”
“Oh, honey, you’re okay,” he teased you in his version of your mother’s voice.
Once home, you took some Benadryl after Brian removed the teensy little stinger. “It was a little sweat bee. I think you’re gonna be just fine, Mr. Taylor. No charge.”
“Great, now you’re a doctor and an entomologist.”
“Want me to kiss it and make it better?” he asked you.
“Kiss it? I’m horrified that you even had to look at it!”
“Calm down, Blanche. Jesus.”
……
……
But now Brian was pulling you to the rock years later, and no one else was there, so the two of you climbed up and sat facing one another; Brian’s legs stretched out like two long denim logs while yours were in a perfect pretzel tuck. “You forgot your sunglasses,” he noticed.
“It’s okay. It’s a gorgeous day.”
“It is.” He lit another cigarette, and although you hate the fact that he still smokes, you love to watch him. It’s hot.
Brian knew it, too. “Getting a boner?” he teased.
“No. Let me lay in your lap.”
“Sure,” he said, accommodating you as you laid your head back, your knees bent. You’d promised Dill you’d let him know by three pm if tonight was going to work, so you tucked it in the back of your mind that you’d have to ask Brian eventually or call it off yourself. You asked him a question that had been bobbing around in your brain for a few weeks, “Brian, do you think our marriage is weird?”
“Weird? No. Why? Because of Dill?”
“No, aside from that, like the normal parts.”
“Why are you asking me?” he wanted to know.
“Well, because Harper always says she’s beyond relieved when she gets a break from Sam like when he has a multi-day shoot out of town and all. And when he’s home, he drives her crazy. You and I, we don’t really drive each other crazy.”
“Harper and Sam live in a house the size of a pill box with two kids.”
“True.”
“And they’re both artists; they’re kind of similar, you know?” Brian added, “Plus, Sam talks like a fucking Muppet most of the time; he only uses his real voice like one week a year.”
“That’s a good point,” you conceded.
He changed the subject, “I have a question for you though.”
“What?”
“What happened with Dill yesterday? I find it odd that you don’t want to talk about it. What’s up?” You sighed in a way that affirmed Brian’s suspicion. “Something didn’t go right?” he pressed.
“It felt sort of weird,” you admitted.
“Okay…how so?” Brian prodded.
“Once it was literally just me and him, it felt like a lot of pressure, and I didn’t want to get all into it with you because….”
**************
BRIAN’S POV
Justin’s body had stiffened once the topic had changed. You asked, “Because why?”
Justin sighed again, as if trying to force himself to relax as he continued, “We tried to play around with the new flogger you had made, the one with the spikes-“
“Right.”
“So I was demonstrating to him how to use it, how to flick your wrist…”
“Okay? And what? You hit him too hard?”
“No, we were practicing, just hitting the bed, but my hand completely gave out, like totally failed-“
“Shit. It’s too heavy.”
“Yeah, but I haven’t lost complete use of my hand like that badly in years, you know? And it upset me, which I tried to hide from him, of course, but I couldn’t and I had to tell him about all of that.”
You immediately picked up Justin’s right hand and started inspecting it, massaging it, “You were okay last night. It seems fine now.”
“It was out of commission for like three minutes. It just hung there. It was awful.”
“Ah, okay. I will take the flogger back and have it split into two floggers. That should help.”
“I get so mad when that happens.”
You stroked his hair now warm from the sun, “Understandable. I wish it hadn’t. It killed the mood?”
“It changed it, for sure. I didn’t want to spill all that shit to him. I haven’t even known him for a month,” Justin bemoaned.
“How did he react?”
“He hugged me and said that now he understands the vibe we give off as a couple. That it made some things click into place for him.”
“Like what things?” you asked.
“He just said it’s a vibe that was a little confusing to him but not anymore.”
“This is why you’re asking me about our marriage being weird?”
Justin looked up at you, squinting, “No, I just mean, most married couples have kids to focus on and if they don’t have kids, then they have some intense hobby-“
“We have a very intense hobby,” you reminded him.
“Fucking, I know. Dungeon sex is our hobby. That’s kind of weird, I think.”
“Most married people I know would kill for our sex life. I’m happy with that. Let them be jealous. They should be.”
“I knew you would say that,” Justin replied.
“You want me to feel differently?” you asked.
“No, not at all-“ And then he changed the subject, “So what else do you want to do on your birthday? Want me to take you to an early lunch?”
“Not hungry yet.”
“Want me to take you out tonight? We can do anything you want. We could have an expensive dinner and/or go back to the loft and do whatever drugs we have there and fuck until we keel over from exhaustion?”
“You think if you take me to the loft, I’ll forget it’s my birthday?” you asked.
“I can make you forget for a little while, for sure,” he promised with a sly smile.
“Don’t think I want to go out. Not tonight,” you expressed as public birthday celebrations make you nauseous.
“I just want you to enjoy the day. Anything you want is fine with me.” Justin rose and sat between your legs, facing you to shield his face from the sun. You rested your elbows on his knees and kissed him, his warm nose brushing against yours.
You admitted to him, “Last night was really, really nice.”
He smiled a little, “Yeah?”
“After you fucked me, I felt this weirdly peaceful feeling inside me-“
“I know that feeling well.”
I was able to choose my mindset; there was no tug-o-war in my head.”
Justin beamed, “That makes me feel like Superman.”
“You’re funny.”
“I’m serious. I feel invincible when I satisfy you, like I could pick up our house and throw it as far as I want.”
“Please don’t use your Topping super powers to displace our primary dwelling.”
“I won’t; I promise.”
……
Justin held your hand on the last quarter of the walk, the two of you weaving between more people than on the first leg. You tossed him the keys and stared out the passenger side window as he drove home. As you pulled into your driveway, you both saw a package on your front steps which turned out to be the dildo upgrade for the Sybian machine.
“Wow,” Justin said, “That was freaking fast.” You checked your mailbox and found a card from your sister. You threw it in the trash without even opening it.
**************
Without any substantive conversation, you and Justin went straight upstairs and showered together. Once both of your bodies were wet, you pushed him against the wall, pressed your forehead against his and breathed in and out. He held onto your biceps and let you draw him into your vortex. Justin smiled when you said, “It’s my birthday, so how about we explore more of our hobby tonight?”
“Okay, well, I sort of have Dill on standby for tonight because I had no clue how this weekend would go. It is one hundred percent your call if you want to add him to the mix later or whenever.”
“Hmmm,” you pondered, “To do what?”
“Whatever you want. Literally.”
“Can I dom out over both of you?”
You smiled, “Absolutely.”
Justin grinned widely, I’ll text him. What time?”
“Seven, seven thirty.”
“He’ll be excited. He knows it’s your birthday-. Shit,” he immediately regretted his words.
“How does he know?” you asked.
Justin confessed a little reluctantly, “Well, I sort of broke down after my hand failed and I got all emotional. I told him that I needed him on standby for a possible scene, but that I had no idea what you’d want for today. Although I did tell him that he’s not allowed to acknowledge that he even knows it’s your birthday or that you even have birthdays at all.”
“Good boy. That was smart.”
Justin looked up at you, “You’re still going to punish me for telling him, aren’t you?”
You cupped his bottom and squeezed, “That’s a really safe bet.”
**************
Once dry, you strode right to your bed and flopped down diagonally on your stomach and sighed. Justin sat by your ankles and began to massage your calves. You moaned, flexed your feet and popped both joints.
“That was loud,” he said.
“It was. Felt good.”
You hadn’t even requested this massage, but somehow Justin knew you needed it. He pressed his fingers into your calf muscles, running his hands all the way up your legs deliberately, over and over, your hands eventually reaching your ass. Eventually, your voice broke the silence, “Come closer; I want to tell you something."
Justin scaled your body and laid beside you. “What?”
“I read three of those birthday cards last night,” you confessed.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Two were pretty upbeat but one was sad, the one about not having phone sex anymore-“
Justin sighed, “Oh yeah, sorry. There are some dark ones in there.”
“It made me realize something,” you offered.
He rubbed your shoulder blades, “What?”
“That I was so busy rejecting the idea of being a couple or getting married or whatever, that it didn’t even dawn on me that our relationship could be anything we wanted it to be. Why couldn’t I just figure that out?”
Before answering, Justin planted a dry kiss on your shoulder, “Fear, probably. You were so scared of becoming one type of thing that you couldn’t imagine the other possibilities.”
“You could’ve told me that,” you suggested.
He sighed, “I tried; you weren’t a good listener back then. And I was too scared that there might be a small part of you still in denial about loving me, I guess.” You just stared at him then, trying to reconcile the truth and angst he’d bravely laid out before you. You shook your head in disbelief and laughed a little. “What‘s so funny?” Justin asked.
“Well, I mean, it’s so stupid when you look back on it now. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other; we couldn’t be away from another for any real amount of time, and, yet…,” you paused.
Justin prodded you, “What?”
“Did everyone just think I was a fucking idiot?”
Justin ran his fingers through your hair, “I mean, yeah, sort of. But on the other hand, some people thought you and I with our age difference...that it would never work anyway.”
“I suppose these are the kind of thoughts you have when you turn fifty. Just reading that card, it made me remember what hell it was to miss you for all those years.”
“Explain that.”
You tried, “It was like knowing exactly what you want for Christmas when you’re a kid and being pretty sure you’re getting it, but then Christmas never comes.”
“But it did,” he reminded you. “Why don’t you ever talk about this?”
“Because when our life finally settled down, we’d been through so much in New York that it seemed wrong to bring it up?”
You nodded, “Probably.”
You rolled to your side, propping your head on your hand and told him a hard truth you were ready to set free, “Going to Babylon was so fucking depressing after you left because I knew there was no chance I’d run into you there-“
“Right.”
“And everyone in there knew I was alone. Some of them sort of pitied me and the rest tried to exploit your absence. Or at least, that’s how it seemed at the time.”
“You know, I never really thought about that side of things after I left,” Justin admitted. “I mean, I got to go somewhere new where I could define myself. You were sort of stuck here.”
“You were gone and we weren’t together, but life still changed for me like we were-except without any of the benefits. I mean one night that first week when I should’ve been getting dressed for Babylon, I didn’t have the energy or even the interest. I put on a fucking cardigan and worked from home instead.”
“Yowsa, but I do like you in a nice sweater, makes me kind of horny actually.”
“That is bullshit,” you teased.
“It’s not,” he persisted. “I like to see the softer-“
“Um, ick.”
“No, listen. I love the softer side of you; it’s just really rare to ever see it wearing any clothes.”
This man you married is a piece of work; he can just untangle all of you with a little hyper-focused tenderness. How is that even legal? But, of course, he just keeps right on going…
“Remember Mexico on your fortieth birthday?”
“Yeah, barely.”
“That guy, Terry, I met on the beach, he told me turning fifty is way easier than forty. I think he might be right.”
“Well, I haven’t even been fifty for a whole day yet so we’ll see. Can I have the rest of that massage now?” you asked.
He smiled, “Absolutely.”
“Good, and use your mouth, okay?”
“Oh, I will. Don’t worry,” he promised.
***********
JUSTIN’S POV
Dill requested a phone call from you after accepting your texted offer to come over that night. Brian had gone to the dungeon with the new Sybian attachment while you made a snack tray in the kitchen.
“Hey, everything good?” you asked.
Dill sounded nervous, “Yeah, I’m just wondering what the plan is. Anything I need to know?”
“All I know is that Brian wants to be in control. So that other idea I had, we’ll table that, okay?”
“Oh, okay.”
“You okay? You sound a little tense.”
“I’m fine. Just excited that he wants me there? Like he actually said that?”
“He does. I didn’t have to encourage him. It’s his birthday, and he wants you to come over.”
You could hear a smile in his voice, “Okay, great. What should I wear?”
“Umm, dress up a little, like it’s a date. He’ll like that. And he knows I told you it’s his birthday.”
“But-“
“But don’t make a big deal about it.”
“Okay, but-“
“But what?” you questioned.
“If this is like a date date, I need at least four more hours to get ready.”
You laughed, “That’s cute, but, no, you don’t. You’re perfect just the way you are.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. The car will be there at six thirty to get you. We’ll see you then.”
“Justin?”
“Hmm?”
“Thanks for making this work. I feel kind of honored after what you said about his other birthdays.”
You told him the truth, “You should feel honored. And do not say a word about his past birthdays unless you want to watch him spank me until my ass is completely flat.”
“Understood. See you in a few hours.”
You hung up and turned around from washing a knife to see Brian standing on the other side of the island with a curious look on his face, “Until your ass is flat, huh? What did you do?”
You blushed and tried to ignore it, “Nothing. Stop it.” He must’ve been barefoot because you never heard him on the stairs.
“But you’re embarrassed…,” he pushed in his annoying sing-songy voice.
“Let it go. Please.”
“Hmmm. I’ll let it go for now, but it is my birthday, remember?”
“I can still order a singing telegram, you know. Just keep that in mind.”
“Ooh, a threat. All that moxy and you’re not in charge tonight.” You laughed and threw a grape at him. Brian caught it, “No cardigans tonight. That’s for sure.”
“Old men are so hilarious. It’s so under-recognized these days.”
Brian backed out of the kitchen with a devious smile on his face while humming Happy Birthday to himself.
Negotiations 48
Go back to Negotiations 46 or start at the beginning.
NEGOTIATIONS 47
JUSTIN’S POV
Everybody in Brian’s world knew to never bother him on his birthday, a habit so practiced that it was a rut deep enough to nestle him in the perfect cocoon of denial. It’s what made his fiftieth birthday perfect for him, an ironic non-gift decades in the making.
The kitchen was spotless after your breakfast explosion when you and Brian got in your car and headed out to a local walking trail around Bart’s Lake near your home. It was Brian’s idea, and you’d taken extra allergy meds to ward off the exuberance of a perfect April day. Not even a hundred steps in and you heard the familiar click of his lighter.
“Come on, really?” you objected.
“What? We’re outside.”
“We’re exercising,” you tried.
“We’re walking and we’re outside. C’mon now.”
You reminded yourself that it was his special day and dropped it. The smoke blew right in your face, so you urged him, “Switch sides with me.”
“Okay.” Brian looped behind to get to your other side. “Better?” he asked.
“Yes. Thank you.”
The pace of the walk kept changing and rather than chastising your partner whose legs were already way longer than yours, you adjusted your speed and kept quiet about it. It was still morning so only the serious and/or habit formed walkers were on the trail with you. Not a one of them spoke to the two of you and you were fine with that. Brian had asked you to come along; you didn’t invite yourself. He wanted you there…
You’d asked, “Anything special you want to do today?”
“I think I want to get outside. Maybe walk the lake?”
“Really?” This was so much better than a Johnny Walker reunion. You hid your relief. “By yourself, you mean?”
Brian laughed, “Yeah, right, by myself. No, dummy, with you.”
…..
As you got about three quarters of the way around, Brian stopped at a familiar dirt path and took your hand, “Let’s go to that big rock.”
“Sure, okay,” you agreed, but then you stopped and pulled him back a little, “But I don’t want to fuck here.”
Brian rolled his eyes at you for the second time that day, “You never have to fuck outside again, okay? You don’t need to worry.”
He was purposely messing with you because years ago, the two of you did fuck on that rock at dusk one day in early May and a fucking bee stung your butt, well, practically your taint, right when you were about to come. You’d screamed and then panicked because you couldn’t remember if you were allergic to bees and you didn’t have an epi-pen and you didn’t want to die on a fucking rock, so Brian broke down and got you to stop freaking out (whatever, it really hurt), and call your Mom and ask her. She said you weren’t allergic and asked what you were doing and Brian said, “Gardening,” really loudly which was stupid because no one fucking gardens at dusk.
“Well, honey, are you okay?” your Mom had asked, “You sound panicky.”
“Yeah, I just freaked.”
“You have an epi in the house, don’t you? Just use it if you’re scared.”
You couldn’t say that you were naked from the waist down on a fucking rock in a public park, so all you could think of was, “It’s expired.”
Brian’s entire upper body was a mime in hysterics at that point.
Your Mom continued, “Sweetheart, it’s probably okay to use, but you can talk to me fine so I don’t think you’re having any breathing problems. You were stung at Grandpa’s once, remember? You stepped on a bee.”
“Okay, I must’ve blocked that out.”
“Well, you were fine then; you’re probably remembering your sister’s allergic reaction, so just try to calm down, okay? Is Brian with you?”
Had she not heard him yell, ‘Gardening!?’
It gave you an out, albeit a dumb one, “No, no, he’s inside.”
“Well, let me call him. Just settle down. You’re in the backyard?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, I’ll call him. Just breathe.”
So you had to sit there while she called Brian who was right next to you and he played it perfectly, shocked and worried and getting that expired pen immediately. “…Justin, I’m coming!” he’d backed up and yelled for effect before hanging up with her and cackling on the rock like a witch in heat.
You wanted the stinger out immediately but it was too dark, so you’d walked back to the car pissed and in pain. “Brian, if that bee had stung your balls instead, you’d be Medi-vacced to an ER right now so stop laughing at me,” you groused.
“He had better odds stinging you. I only have one ball, remember?” You’d slapped him for that. “Don’t sit right on it. Lay on your side,” Brian ordered as he drove.
“Fuck nature,” you’d pouted.
“I should’ve told you in advance that we were having a threesome,” your idiot husband offered.
“A fucking bee-some, maybe.”
Brian’s laugh became a snort, “We had a bee-some! Wait, no, a foursome because your mom was there, too. Priceless.”
“Just shut up and drive.”
“You can’t blame that bee. He clearly agrees with me that your ass is the nectar of the gods. He must’ve gotten trapped during the thrusting.”
“I wanted to ride you, but, no, you had to be on top.”
“Your face when it happened…epic, I swear. You looked so violated.”
“Stop it. I’m so pissed. My ass is swelling and it’s gonna look horrific.”
“Oh, honey, you’re okay,” he teased you in his version of your mother’s voice.
Once home, you took some Benadryl after Brian removed the teensy little stinger. “It was a little sweat bee. I think you’re gonna be just fine, Mr. Taylor. No charge.”
“Great, now you’re a doctor and an entomologist.”
“Want me to kiss it and make it better?” he asked you.
“Kiss it? I’m horrified that you even had to look at it!”
“Calm down, Blanche. Jesus.”
……
……
But now Brian was pulling you to the rock years later, and no one else was there, so the two of you climbed up and sat facing one another; Brian’s legs stretched out like two long denim logs while yours were in a perfect pretzel tuck. “You forgot your sunglasses,” he noticed.
“It’s okay. It’s a gorgeous day.”
“It is.” He lit another cigarette, and although you hate the fact that he still smokes, you love to watch him. It’s hot.
Brian knew it, too. “Getting a boner?” he teased.
“No. Let me lay in your lap.”
“Sure,” he said, accommodating you as you laid your head back, your knees bent. You’d promised Dill you’d let him know by three pm if tonight was going to work, so you tucked it in the back of your mind that you’d have to ask Brian eventually or call it off yourself. You asked him a question that had been bobbing around in your brain for a few weeks, “Brian, do you think our marriage is weird?”
“Weird? No. Why? Because of Dill?”
“No, aside from that, like the normal parts.”
“Why are you asking me?” he wanted to know.
“Well, because Harper always says she’s beyond relieved when she gets a break from Sam like when he has a multi-day shoot out of town and all. And when he’s home, he drives her crazy. You and I, we don’t really drive each other crazy.”
“Harper and Sam live in a house the size of a pill box with two kids.”
“True.”
“And they’re both artists; they’re kind of similar, you know?” Brian added, “Plus, Sam talks like a fucking Muppet most of the time; he only uses his real voice like one week a year.”
“That’s a good point,” you conceded.
He changed the subject, “I have a question for you though.”
“What?”
“What happened with Dill yesterday? I find it odd that you don’t want to talk about it. What’s up?” You sighed in a way that affirmed Brian’s suspicion. “Something didn’t go right?” he pressed.
“It felt sort of weird,” you admitted.
“Okay…how so?” Brian prodded.
“Once it was literally just me and him, it felt like a lot of pressure, and I didn’t want to get all into it with you because….”
**************
BRIAN’S POV
Justin’s body had stiffened once the topic had changed. You asked, “Because why?”
Justin sighed again, as if trying to force himself to relax as he continued, “We tried to play around with the new flogger you had made, the one with the spikes-“
“Right.”
“So I was demonstrating to him how to use it, how to flick your wrist…”
“Okay? And what? You hit him too hard?”
“No, we were practicing, just hitting the bed, but my hand completely gave out, like totally failed-“
“Shit. It’s too heavy.”
“Yeah, but I haven’t lost complete use of my hand like that badly in years, you know? And it upset me, which I tried to hide from him, of course, but I couldn’t and I had to tell him about all of that.”
You immediately picked up Justin’s right hand and started inspecting it, massaging it, “You were okay last night. It seems fine now.”
“It was out of commission for like three minutes. It just hung there. It was awful.”
“Ah, okay. I will take the flogger back and have it split into two floggers. That should help.”
“I get so mad when that happens.”
You stroked his hair now warm from the sun, “Understandable. I wish it hadn’t. It killed the mood?”
“It changed it, for sure. I didn’t want to spill all that shit to him. I haven’t even known him for a month,” Justin bemoaned.
“How did he react?”
“He hugged me and said that now he understands the vibe we give off as a couple. That it made some things click into place for him.”
“Like what things?” you asked.
“He just said it’s a vibe that was a little confusing to him but not anymore.”
“This is why you’re asking me about our marriage being weird?”
Justin looked up at you, squinting, “No, I just mean, most married couples have kids to focus on and if they don’t have kids, then they have some intense hobby-“
“We have a very intense hobby,” you reminded him.
“Fucking, I know. Dungeon sex is our hobby. That’s kind of weird, I think.”
“Most married people I know would kill for our sex life. I’m happy with that. Let them be jealous. They should be.”
“I knew you would say that,” Justin replied.
“You want me to feel differently?” you asked.
“No, not at all-“ And then he changed the subject, “So what else do you want to do on your birthday? Want me to take you to an early lunch?”
“Not hungry yet.”
“Want me to take you out tonight? We can do anything you want. We could have an expensive dinner and/or go back to the loft and do whatever drugs we have there and fuck until we keel over from exhaustion?”
“You think if you take me to the loft, I’ll forget it’s my birthday?” you asked.
“I can make you forget for a little while, for sure,” he promised with a sly smile.
“Don’t think I want to go out. Not tonight,” you expressed as public birthday celebrations make you nauseous.
“I just want you to enjoy the day. Anything you want is fine with me.” Justin rose and sat between your legs, facing you to shield his face from the sun. You rested your elbows on his knees and kissed him, his warm nose brushing against yours.
You admitted to him, “Last night was really, really nice.”
He smiled a little, “Yeah?”
“After you fucked me, I felt this weirdly peaceful feeling inside me-“
“I know that feeling well.”
I was able to choose my mindset; there was no tug-o-war in my head.”
Justin beamed, “That makes me feel like Superman.”
“You’re funny.”
“I’m serious. I feel invincible when I satisfy you, like I could pick up our house and throw it as far as I want.”
“Please don’t use your Topping super powers to displace our primary dwelling.”
“I won’t; I promise.”
……
Justin held your hand on the last quarter of the walk, the two of you weaving between more people than on the first leg. You tossed him the keys and stared out the passenger side window as he drove home. As you pulled into your driveway, you both saw a package on your front steps which turned out to be the dildo upgrade for the Sybian machine.
“Wow,” Justin said, “That was freaking fast.” You checked your mailbox and found a card from your sister. You threw it in the trash without even opening it.
**************
Without any substantive conversation, you and Justin went straight upstairs and showered together. Once both of your bodies were wet, you pushed him against the wall, pressed your forehead against his and breathed in and out. He held onto your biceps and let you draw him into your vortex. Justin smiled when you said, “It’s my birthday, so how about we explore more of our hobby tonight?”
“Okay, well, I sort of have Dill on standby for tonight because I had no clue how this weekend would go. It is one hundred percent your call if you want to add him to the mix later or whenever.”
“Hmmm,” you pondered, “To do what?”
“Whatever you want. Literally.”
“Can I dom out over both of you?”
You smiled, “Absolutely.”
Justin grinned widely, I’ll text him. What time?”
“Seven, seven thirty.”
“He’ll be excited. He knows it’s your birthday-. Shit,” he immediately regretted his words.
“How does he know?” you asked.
Justin confessed a little reluctantly, “Well, I sort of broke down after my hand failed and I got all emotional. I told him that I needed him on standby for a possible scene, but that I had no idea what you’d want for today. Although I did tell him that he’s not allowed to acknowledge that he even knows it’s your birthday or that you even have birthdays at all.”
“Good boy. That was smart.”
Justin looked up at you, “You’re still going to punish me for telling him, aren’t you?”
You cupped his bottom and squeezed, “That’s a really safe bet.”
**************
Once dry, you strode right to your bed and flopped down diagonally on your stomach and sighed. Justin sat by your ankles and began to massage your calves. You moaned, flexed your feet and popped both joints.
“That was loud,” he said.
“It was. Felt good.”
You hadn’t even requested this massage, but somehow Justin knew you needed it. He pressed his fingers into your calf muscles, running his hands all the way up your legs deliberately, over and over, your hands eventually reaching your ass. Eventually, your voice broke the silence, “Come closer; I want to tell you something."
Justin scaled your body and laid beside you. “What?”
“I read three of those birthday cards last night,” you confessed.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Two were pretty upbeat but one was sad, the one about not having phone sex anymore-“
Justin sighed, “Oh yeah, sorry. There are some dark ones in there.”
“It made me realize something,” you offered.
He rubbed your shoulder blades, “What?”
“That I was so busy rejecting the idea of being a couple or getting married or whatever, that it didn’t even dawn on me that our relationship could be anything we wanted it to be. Why couldn’t I just figure that out?”
Before answering, Justin planted a dry kiss on your shoulder, “Fear, probably. You were so scared of becoming one type of thing that you couldn’t imagine the other possibilities.”
“You could’ve told me that,” you suggested.
He sighed, “I tried; you weren’t a good listener back then. And I was too scared that there might be a small part of you still in denial about loving me, I guess.” You just stared at him then, trying to reconcile the truth and angst he’d bravely laid out before you. You shook your head in disbelief and laughed a little. “What‘s so funny?” Justin asked.
“Well, I mean, it’s so stupid when you look back on it now. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other; we couldn’t be away from another for any real amount of time, and, yet…,” you paused.
Justin prodded you, “What?”
“Did everyone just think I was a fucking idiot?”
Justin ran his fingers through your hair, “I mean, yeah, sort of. But on the other hand, some people thought you and I with our age difference...that it would never work anyway.”
“I suppose these are the kind of thoughts you have when you turn fifty. Just reading that card, it made me remember what hell it was to miss you for all those years.”
“Explain that.”
You tried, “It was like knowing exactly what you want for Christmas when you’re a kid and being pretty sure you’re getting it, but then Christmas never comes.”
“But it did,” he reminded you. “Why don’t you ever talk about this?”
“Because when our life finally settled down, we’d been through so much in New York that it seemed wrong to bring it up?”
You nodded, “Probably.”
You rolled to your side, propping your head on your hand and told him a hard truth you were ready to set free, “Going to Babylon was so fucking depressing after you left because I knew there was no chance I’d run into you there-“
“Right.”
“And everyone in there knew I was alone. Some of them sort of pitied me and the rest tried to exploit your absence. Or at least, that’s how it seemed at the time.”
“You know, I never really thought about that side of things after I left,” Justin admitted. “I mean, I got to go somewhere new where I could define myself. You were sort of stuck here.”
“You were gone and we weren’t together, but life still changed for me like we were-except without any of the benefits. I mean one night that first week when I should’ve been getting dressed for Babylon, I didn’t have the energy or even the interest. I put on a fucking cardigan and worked from home instead.”
“Yowsa, but I do like you in a nice sweater, makes me kind of horny actually.”
“That is bullshit,” you teased.
“It’s not,” he persisted. “I like to see the softer-“
“Um, ick.”
“No, listen. I love the softer side of you; it’s just really rare to ever see it wearing any clothes.”
This man you married is a piece of work; he can just untangle all of you with a little hyper-focused tenderness. How is that even legal? But, of course, he just keeps right on going…
“Remember Mexico on your fortieth birthday?”
“Yeah, barely.”
“That guy, Terry, I met on the beach, he told me turning fifty is way easier than forty. I think he might be right.”
“Well, I haven’t even been fifty for a whole day yet so we’ll see. Can I have the rest of that massage now?” you asked.
He smiled, “Absolutely.”
“Good, and use your mouth, okay?”
“Oh, I will. Don’t worry,” he promised.
***********
JUSTIN’S POV
Dill requested a phone call from you after accepting your texted offer to come over that night. Brian had gone to the dungeon with the new Sybian attachment while you made a snack tray in the kitchen.
“Hey, everything good?” you asked.
Dill sounded nervous, “Yeah, I’m just wondering what the plan is. Anything I need to know?”
“All I know is that Brian wants to be in control. So that other idea I had, we’ll table that, okay?”
“Oh, okay.”
“You okay? You sound a little tense.”
“I’m fine. Just excited that he wants me there? Like he actually said that?”
“He does. I didn’t have to encourage him. It’s his birthday, and he wants you to come over.”
You could hear a smile in his voice, “Okay, great. What should I wear?”
“Umm, dress up a little, like it’s a date. He’ll like that. And he knows I told you it’s his birthday.”
“But-“
“But don’t make a big deal about it.”
“Okay, but-“
“But what?” you questioned.
“If this is like a date date, I need at least four more hours to get ready.”
You laughed, “That’s cute, but, no, you don’t. You’re perfect just the way you are.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. The car will be there at six thirty to get you. We’ll see you then.”
“Justin?”
“Hmm?”
“Thanks for making this work. I feel kind of honored after what you said about his other birthdays.”
You told him the truth, “You should feel honored. And do not say a word about his past birthdays unless you want to watch him spank me until my ass is completely flat.”
“Understood. See you in a few hours.”
You hung up and turned around from washing a knife to see Brian standing on the other side of the island with a curious look on his face, “Until your ass is flat, huh? What did you do?”
You blushed and tried to ignore it, “Nothing. Stop it.” He must’ve been barefoot because you never heard him on the stairs.
“But you’re embarrassed…,” he pushed in his annoying sing-songy voice.
“Let it go. Please.”
“Hmmm. I’ll let it go for now, but it is my birthday, remember?”
“I can still order a singing telegram, you know. Just keep that in mind.”
“Ooh, a threat. All that moxy and you’re not in charge tonight.” You laughed and threw a grape at him. Brian caught it, “No cardigans tonight. That’s for sure.”
“Old men are so hilarious. It’s so under-recognized these days.”
Brian backed out of the kitchen with a devious smile on his face while humming Happy Birthday to himself.
Negotiations 48