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The logistics were trickier than Jack probably realized, making sure that when Jack walked in the door Bitty’s welcome home pie was ready to come out of the oven and all the come inside him was still wet enough to drip.
The first trick was to pick a pie that took a while to cook. The second was to get four fingers and all the lube he needed up himself while the dough was chilling, so that he could be out the door the second he stuck the pie in the oven, and he wouldn’t need to waste any time getting ready before he let some stranger stick it in him. There were other things that helped him make good time - no underwear, shorts that were loose enough to shove down easy and short enough to make a man want to, putting those short, loose shorts to use by reaching up a pants leg while he was still in the car to pull the plug out and leave it in the glove compartment until it was time to shove it back in the same way, making a fuss over how good he was getting fucked and how big every cock was to speed things along, and wearing a watch and turning it so he could see how long it was taking.
He didn’t like it much, racing the clock to entice a bunch of strange men to stick it in and come in him as fast as possible. Two pumps and a squirt, and he couldn’t even take care of himself for fear the reminder that he had a dick of his own would put them off. But not liking it was part of the fun for Bitty, playing the dutiful, homemaking sugar baby, working so hard to make everything just right for his man. There was a special satisfaction to spending all day selflessly laboring over a hot stove and a grimy truck stop toilet to welcome Jack home from his roadie with a picture of effortless perfection.
Today he’d had more pleasure than usual, a few fleeting moments of the dirty, painful thrill of being double stuffed with more cock than he was built to take. Usually when two men wanted him at once they preferred to spitroast him, which was both a chore and a waste. Bitty bought a scratch lotto on the way out, since he was having such a lucky day.
His luck held out all the way home. He hit green light after green light, and got home so fast his shorts were barely wet from what had leaked out around the plug. He even had time to change his shirt for Jack’s jersey and leave the plug in the bathroom sink before it was time get his apron on and get that pie out.
With better timing than Bitty could have hoped for, the apartment door opened and Jack called, “Bits, I’m home,” while he was bending over to open the oven door.
“In the kitchen, honey!” he called, “just taking a pie out of the oven!” and waited there until he heard Jack’s footsteps rounding the corner to push.
Thinking about how good this must be for Jack was such a turn on for Bitty. He’d crafted this scenario as skillfully as the pie in his hands, made it special for Jack, and now it was all coming together. Jack was coming home from a grueling gauntlet of west coast away games to an apartment smelling of perfect sweet potato pie. But the first thing he was seeing of his good little boyfriend was the come oozing down his thighs. The shorts Bitty wore were Jack’s favorite, but the finger bruises peeking out under them weren’t Jack’s.
Bitty stood up and turned, holding the pie in both mittens, and smiling like nothing was out of the ordinary, every inch little Dicky Homemaker. “Oh, honey, I’m so glad you’re home! Did you have a good trip?”
Jack’s jaw clenched. It was a low blow of the kind Bitty knew got his motor running - in Jack’s pessimistic eye the Falcs had dropped from firm playoff contenders to riding the bubble for the wildcard spot. That was silliness, of course, their schedule for the week had been brutal and they’d outperformed expectations, leaving Bitty and Ransom to gloat at everyone in the alumni fantasy hockey pool who’d thought they were so smart for putting homerism aside in favor of cold hard facts. But Jack would be Jack.
“Didn’t you watch?” Jack asked with obvious effort, hands clenched at his sides and cock ruining the line of his slacks.
“I caught a few highlights,” Bitty said brightly, as he set the pie on the cooling rack. “And I watched yesterday. I had to leave for the Pigeons game half way though the third but, my goodness, you boys sure showed them Kings!”
The last seven minutes of regulation had been harrowing as LA - a team the Falcs had no business doing anything but crushing - chipped away at their lead point by precious point.
Bitty stripped off his oven mitts and glided across the kitchen to adjust Jack’s tie. “Battle of my two biggest hockey crushes,” he teased as if oblivious to the tension. “Guess I chose the right man,” he added, and went up on tiptoes to kiss Jack.
He might as well have been kissing a statue, except for the hard, hot line of Jack’s cock twitching against his hip. Kovalchuk had scored the game winner in OT.
Jack didn’t wait for Bitty to finish kissing him before he asked, “Pigeons?”
“Local beer league team,” Bitty said. “They’re very good.”
“That’s too late at night for a local game,” Jack said, a little irritable, but Bitty didn’t take it to heart. He knew Jack was a nitpicker and he had his story straight already.
“One of the guys works at the rink. He has keys, so they’re having an after dark tournament. It’s so fun,” Bitty gushed cheerfully. “He’s a real sweetheart, lets me come in to skate at night for free, whenever I want. Isn’t that nice?” He smiled up at Jack, waiting for a response.
“Nice,” Jack echoed, sounding half mesmerized.
Bitty nodded. “So of course I couldn’t say no when he asked me to be the prize.” He paused, and added again, “They’re a very good hockey team. Some of those boys could probably have gone pro if they’d wanted.”
Jack grabbed him by the wrists and pulled him over the the kitchen table, sitting down and dragging Bitty down to lay across his lap. Bitty squirmed, eager to be taken in hand. Jack shoved his shorts down, but the first blow didn’t come. Instead, Jack reached for something on the table.
“Bittle.” Jack held the scratch off lotto ticket in front of his face. “Don’t you know these things are a scam?”
The truth would get Jack hot, but it contradicted the story so far. No, telling Jack he’d bought it because he’d felt so lucky to get two truckers to dump their loads in his sloppy ass at once, stretching him out and making him feel good instead of making him choke on one and wasting come down his throat, would have to wait for later. Right now, Bitty was ready to ad lib them back on track.
Vapid disregard, he decided, yes, that was the angle, that was worth a scene in itself, he was running around buying lotto tickets and every multilevel marketing crock his cousins pushed on Facebook, all with Jack’s money, and he never felt one bit swindled, Lord no. And while dumb bunny Bittle might not realize it himself, Jack would see he was perfectly right not to. It wasn’t Bitty’s money, after all. The only sucker here was Jack, for letting him.
Bitty laughed. “Don’t be silly, honey, it was only five dollars.” It had been two - Bitty hadn’t felt that lucky - but five was a better number to add to the spanking he was expecting. Jack’s cock twitched against his belly.
The first blow fell on his ass unexpectedly. Jack wasn’t a man of snappy dirty talk dialogue, he was a man of action, and right now that action was to take out all that hot shame on Bitty’s hide. The hard smacks hurt beyond the sting where Jack’s hand connected, the way they jarred him made a dull, needy ache flare inside him. Jack hadn’t touched him there yet, but the too many men who had had already left him sore.
By the time he noticed what Jack’s other hand was doing there were tears on his cheeks and his little yelps and feet kicking weren’t just a put on. Jack had laid the lotto ticket out on his back and was primly scratching away at it with a coin. Bitty would bet another two dollars that he was staying in all the lines and cleaning every box meticulously.
Jack slapped his thighs, making him wiggle and whine, and the next slap on his ass hurt more because Jack’s hand was wet. There was a brief pause where all Bitty could feel was the scritching of the coin on his back and Jack’s eyes on the sticky handprint of come on his red hot ass, then Jack hit him again, alternating between his thighs and ass now, making a mess of him. Bitty gripped the legs of the chair and took it.
After he didn’t know how long, he realized that the only pain was from the spanking he’d already had. Jack had stopped. There was a wet spot against Bitty’s belly, but it must just be a particularly copious amount of precome, because Jack’s cock was poking him if anything more insistently than ever.
“Hey, Bits,” Jack said, running hand over his ass and holding the lotto ticket down in front of Bitty’s eyes. It was a watery blur until he blinked the tears out of his eyes, and even then he couldn’t manage enough focus to decipher the key. “You won your five dollars back.”
With that, Jack set the ticket back on the table and hauled Bitty to his feet, not bothering to pull his ruined shorts back up. Bitty jettisoned them and the apron as he was marched to the big walk-in shower. Jack didn’t always think ahead, bless him, but Bitty knew he’d like what he was planning best with Bitty wearing his jersey and nothing else.
One of the perks of not being a particularly tacky gold digger, shaming Jack by blowing all his money on lotto tickets and pyramid schemes, was that Jack could spend that money on things like the chair in the shower. It had a vaguely retro look to it, like something a gynecologist in the fifties might use, and it was surprisingly easy to hose down.
“You need to be examined,” Jack said. “To see if there was any... damage.”
“Well,” Bitty said, chewing his lip as he took his seat and put his feet in the stirrups. He flinched when his still stinging ass touched the cushion. “If you think so honey.” He leaned back, adjusting the jersey so Jack could see everything he wanted. Well, almost everything. A dozen truckers’ jizz preserved the last of Bitty’s modesty when Jack lifted his balls for a better look.
Jack didn’t say anything, just reached for the hose they’d replaced the shower head with and turned it in. The jet of water that hit his balls was so cold Bitty nearly wrenched out of the chair to get away. His cock twitched and bobbed like it didn’t know whether to perk up at the overload of stimulation or to wilt at the painful cold. Jack’s feigned clinical disinterest, and the simmering heat behind it, had Bitty so turned on his body just seemed to follow his mind’s lead in the turmoil, interpreting the onslaught of sensation as something sexy. When Jack turned the water off he was desperate for more.
Jack looked him over once more, then left him to go to the medicine cabinet. The snap of nitrile gloves made Bitty shiver in satisfaction. Jack only put gloves on when Bitty was very, very dirty. He didn’t look to see what tools Jack might be lubing up. He wanted to be surprised.
Jack came back to him and probed inside with one gloved finger. Bitty focused on relaxing, trying to feel loose and easy. The way Jack’s breath quickened, he thought he was doing a pretty good job.
“How many?” Jack asked.
“Well, gosh, all the Pigeons, ‘cause they won. And then the Owls got the sloppy seconds. I didn’t want to be rude.” Bitty lifted his head to blink innocently at Jack, who was still feeling around inside him, now with two fingers, and clenching his jaw so tightly it must hurt. “They didn’t all do me,” he assured. “A lot of them wanted my mouth instead.”
Jack pulled out his fingers, gave them a cursory look, and sighed at the sheen of come. He turned on the water again, this time fiddling with the temperature until it was just right. Bitty braced himself.
“You need to be clean so I can see inside you,” Jack told him, and pressed the hose inside. Bitty squirmed, trying to like the sensation of being filled up with water. The fascinated way Jack watched him swell helped.
Jack didn’t make him hold it. He just pressed his belly in a wordless demand until Bitty let go, then filled him up and did it again, obviously impatient to get Bitty to be clean and ready for inspection.
Afterwards, there was a moment when Bitty felt unnaturally empty, but Jack didn’t make him wait. Cool metal pressed inside him, the closed beak wide enough to make him moan. There was a speculum Jack liked to use on him after Bitty fucked around on roadies, but this wasn’t it. This was bigger. He clenched involuntarily picturing their other, special occasion speculum, the one that must be pressing inside him now.
The unyielding metal felt deep, but he knew it wasn’t close to all the way in him yet. It was longer than any of the cocks he’d had today, and the steady, implacable press combined with Jack’s intense eyes on him already had him hotter than any of them. When it finally stopped pressing in, Bitty lifted his head, sure he’d be able to see a bulge through his skin. He couldn’t, and when he laid his head back and Jack started to open it, his thoughts of watching for movement deserted him. All he could think of now was the slow, inexorable stretch as Jack pried him open wider and wider.
The speculum stilled, and Bitty panted out, “Some did me two at a time.”
The widening resumed.
When it finally stopped, Jack said, “Still a little come inside.”
Bitty didn’t know if he put the hose inside this time. He didn’t touch him with it. All Jack did was turn on the cold and spray down his insides like he was washing a deck. Bitty felt like he came when the stream of cold water focused on on his prostate, but he was still hard when Jack first turned the water on his cock and then took it away to turn it off, so maybe he didn’t.
He lay, panting, feeling the cold air inside him and waiting for Jack to come back. When he did, he was holding a small, bright flashlight and staring at Bitty so intently he could practically feel it.
“There.” Jack bent his head and turned the flashlight so he could take a good look at what Bitty’d been giving away. He peered inside, prodded and stroked with his fingers until Bitty felt like he might come just from Jack examining him for invisible signs of his slutting around. “Did you come?”
Too frantically turned on to lie, Bitty just shook his head.
“You haven’t been getting what you need,” Jack said, stroking Bitty’s inner walls absently. He swallowed hard and added, “I haven’t been keeping you satisfied. That’s why you’ve been sleeping around, isn’t it, Bits?”
Bitty’s brain was sluggish with need, but Jack didn’t wait for his belated “yes, yes, yes,” to begin attaching the straps around Bitty’s thighs, his chest, his wrists, binding him securely to the chair.
Once Bitty was safe and secure and still spread wide open, Jack left him to get another toy. Bitty heard what it was before he felt it, the buzzing sounded like a dang jet engine. The vibrating wand wasn’t meant for internal use, but then again if it broke Jack would just buy a new one. And, besides, did it really count as internal with Bitty’s body in its
current state? It didn’t even touch him until Jack pressed it directly to his prostate and made him wail.
Jack liked that he could make Bitty come again and again this way, liked to watch how his body worked, inside and out, through stimulation he was never meant to take. Bitty liked to take it for him, to bite his lip when he wanted to beg Jack to take it out and show Jack just how far he’d let him go.
Did he look different inside when the pleasurable shocks turned to a sick feeling of something being wrenched out of him? He knew Jack could tell when he wasn’t coming anymore, because when he felt too numb and tingly to respond Jack would press harder, stimulating deeper tissues where he could still feel.
His cock and balls hurt something fierce even though Jack had barely touched him there and his eyes were streaming with tears, but he wouldn’t say stop. Bitty might not be as tough as Jack wanted on the ice, but in bed he could be the his dream boy.
Jack pressed the wand harder, but it might as well be against Bitty’s back for all he could feel. Jack, seeing he no longer had an erogenous zone at his disposal, pulled it out and pressed it at the junction of Bitty’s cock and balls. Bitty wailed and thrashed until Jack was satisfied he didn’t have any more orgasms hiding in him.
His nipples were more responsive. They stiffened up, needy for the attention the rest of him had gotten, and had his nerves sending urgent messages that only translated to a mild increase of the the throbbing ache in his genitals.
“Did they touch you here?” Jack asked, curious, pressing and rolling the wand. Bitty shook his head. He couldn’t answer, if he stopped biting his lip he’d beg Jack to stop. He could take it, he told himself, feeling himself clench and twitch on the speculum holding him open. Soon his nipples would go numb and Jack would leave them alone.
Bitty was shaking all over by the time it happened, too weak to move but his body wouldn’t stop shaking.
“Bittle,” Jack said tenderly, kissing his forehead, “can I make love to you?”
There was still a speculum holding him wide enough for a fist, but Bitty was so worn out down there he could barely feel it.
“Please, honey,” Bitty said dreamily. Giving it up for Jack, feigning pleasure for Jack’s benefit, enduring sex he couldn’t enjoy, all to please his man, that was the culmination Bitty craved.
Jack took the straps off him first, leaving the speculum for last. When he finally slid it out, Bitty felt loose and empty. He couldn’t tell whether or not he was gaping until Jack took a moment to peer inside him with the flashlight one last time. I’ll have to work hard to make it feel good for him, Bitty thought, the thrill of it purely mental.
“Can you stand?”
When Bitty shook his head, Jack scooped him up like a man carrying his bride over the threshold. He lifted Bitty with an ease that surely would have had him hard and wanting if his body were capable of it.
“How do you want me, honey?”
Jack laid him on his back and wrapped Bitty’s legs around him. He leaned down to kiss him and murmured, “You feel so good inside, Bits.”
He hadn’t realized. “Oh, honey, it’s so big,” Bitty moaned belatedly against his lips and tried to squeeze Jack’s cock.
Jack kissed and caressed, stroking Bitty’s limp cock and his flat nipples. He fucked him hard and sweet at just the right angle. It would have felt so wonderful, if only he hadn’t been such a slut Jack had to milk him dry for his own good. It was only fair to reward all that considerate lovemaking with the response it deserved.
“Oh, Jack!” Bitty moaned and writhed and pretended he was feeling it, all the while struggling to work his worn out ass around Jack’s cock. His reward was the effect he was having on Jack.
Already, Jack was panting, dripping sweat, his frantic thrusts losing their rhythm. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise Bitty was so loose, helping Jack hold off and make it last.
“Oh, honey, nobody else made it feel like this.” Bitty rocked his hips to meet Jack’s thrusts, soft cock bouncing with the movement. “Nobody but you. Fill me up, honey, I need it so bad.”
Jack was close, he could feel it, so Bitty raked his nails down his back and wailed like he was having the orgasm of his life.
“Oh, fuck, Bits-“
Bitty couldn’t feel Jack’s come in him, but when Jack thrust deep and shuddered he played like it was filling him up better than the enemas he’d taken, writhing and gasping. “Oh, Jack!”
The way Jack shivered through the aftershocks was worth the effort.
Finally, Jack was too soft to keep it inside and he rolled over, pulling Bitty on top to kiss and cuddle. “That was hot.”
“Mmhmm.” Bitty nuzzled his neck. “The pie ought to be just about cool enough now, if you’ve gone and worked up an appetite.” He kissed the protest off Jack’s lips. “With lots of extra egg yolks in the filling. It’s just what you need.”
Jack smiled. “You sure know how to welcome a guy home.”
“Well, my goodness,” Bitty said, preening, suffused in satisfied warmth. “I do my best.”