Bad Boy 5 Read online

  The tears were coming, no matter how much Chip tried to fight them, his strong body crouched over and vibrated as he sobbed. Peter pulled him over and let him cry in his lap as he rubbed his back. He hated himself a little for how negative he’d been. He thought of how much it must have hurt and worried Chip. He swore to himself, right there and then, that he’d never leave them. They needed him. Just as much as he needed them. It was a blessing and a curse, but somehow, it made all the difference in the world. It made him feel better. It washed the bitter taste of all that had happened out of his mouth.

  He kissed him on the back of the head, “He never should have done that to you or Johnny. But he … maybe he had something wrong, something medically wrong. Maybe he was going through so much pain and just didn’t know what do about it. We can’t know what makes people do that. We can’t blame them and we can’t blame ourselves. I had a cousin who shot himself some years back. I know, it’s not the same thing as having a partner but … Oh, Chip. I’m so sorry.” He couldn’t imagine causing Chip and Johnny that much pain. The very idea sickened him.

  Peter wasn’t sure what to say. He may have been gay but he was a man first and a man’s first reaction is to try to fix things, but some things were not fixable, sometimes, he’d learned all you could do is just be there for someone and listen, let them know that you cared and would be there for them. And he’d be true to his family no matter what. No matter how hard it was. ‘Til his dying breath.

  Made him reevaluate what he was going through. It paled in comparison. He stroked his hands through Chip’s ginger hair, and said, “I love you, Chip. I fucking love you.” It may not have been the most romantic thing to say, but he meant it. He said the words with fire and passion and a steadfast love that was true and destined.

  Chip looked up at him, his emerald eyes soaked with tears, “I love you too, baby.”

  “We’re going to get through this, aren’t we?” Peter said, working up a smile, through his own veil of emotions. It was his turn to comfort Chip. For once, he didn’t feel so useless.

  “Yes, sir,” Chip said, smiling through his tears, then wiping them with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry I’m such a cry baby.” His smile became sheepish and rueful.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Peter comforted. “Let’s go inside and relax. I’ve got something that’ll make you feel better.” He nodded. He knew just the thing. Something they both desperately needed.

  “Okay,” Chip said getting up, “What?”

  “A blow job,” Peter said.

  Chip laughed. “Johnny’s taking a nap in the other room. Perfect timing.”

  ***

  He needed to make this special for Chip. He needed to take his mind off his sad memories and the current situation. He knew that intimacy, that love and affection was what he needed. It would help them both relax, reaffirm how they felt about each other. Peter told Chip to wait for him in the bedroom. He had something spectacular planned.

  He pushed the door open with his foot, his arms full. Chip was on the bed, stripped down, his body looking so delicious and irresistible. Chip raised up on his elbows and cocked a brow at Peter.

  “What have you got there?” he asked curiously.

  “Just lay back and relax,” Peter said, nudging the door closed behind him. He approached the bed and dumped his supplies at the foot, surveying his prize: Chip.

  He took the jar of strawberry sauce and got up on the bed. He didn’t care that this would make a mess. He wanted to make a mess. Slowly, deliberately, he pushed Chip’s strong, muscular thighs apart. He popped the lid off and drizzled the sauce all over his balls until it dripped down the crack of his ass. Chip gasped at the cool, sticky sensation.

  Peter wasn’t finished.

  Next, came the chocolate sauce. He had a sweet tooth and he couldn’t think of anything better than making a sundae out of his man’s gorgeous, tight ass. Slowly, he squeezed the chocolate sauce in between Chip’s cheeks and up to his balls. Then, his cock. It looked so good that Peter’s mouth watered. He could barely contain his anticipation. Truth be told, he wanted to fuck him right then and there, but this wasn’t about him. This was all about Chip.

  Peter’s cock twitched and grew hard at the naughty, delicious sight before him. But no sundae was complete without whipped cream. He pushed down on the nozzle and topped the head of Chip’s cock with a generous cloud of fluffy whipped cream.

  Chip laughed, low and sultry, clearly amused and delighted. “This is gonna make a damned mess,” he scolded.

  “Hush. I’ll lick up every.single.drop,” Peter said, making sure to stress each word so that Chip knew he meant business.

  He meant it too and decided there was no time better than the present to start. Laying on his stomach, his palms pressed to the insides of Chip’s thighs to keep them wide and spread, Peter extended his tongue. He flicked the wet muscle over his rim, then lapped up and down the crack of his ass, putting a lot of pressure behind the laps of his tongue and going agonizingly slow. He licked up all the sugary sweet syrup and strawberry, cleaning him with his tongue. It wasn’t enough for him. He closed his lips around his pucker and suckled and slurped. Chip writhed under him, rocking his hips, his cock growing harder by every moment. It made his lover groan.

  But he wasn’t anywhere near being done. Once again, through the tight seal of his suckling mouth, he extended his long tongue. He pushed, pressed, until he popped past the tight ring of muscle of his ass until he entered his velvety tunnel. Once inside, Peter wriggled his tongue, tasting his rim, worshipping his ass.

  Chip’s cock throbbed visibly, precum beading at the whipped cream topped head and drooling down the underside of his shaft. Peter wanted all of that big, hard dick in his mouth, but he was determined to really take his time. Deeper and deeper he pushed his tongue inside Chip. He slid it in and out and wriggled it all around until Chip trembled and cried out loudly. Peter teased his tongue in and out until he laved it between his cheeks again, getting every drop of sticky sweets just like he promised he would. The only mess he wanted on the bed was their sweat and cum.

  Chip’s cock needed his attention badly. His lover had his hands fisted in the sheets and was hissing sharp, panting breaths between his clenched teeth. He wouldn’t deny him any longer. Peter dipped his head down and took the fat, broad head of Chip’s cock between his lips and rapidly flicked his tongue over it, cleaning off all the whipped cream. The sweet, rich taste of the whipped cream went with the salty precum perfectly. It made Peter so hard knowing how much he turned Chip on.

  “Yeah,” Chip groaned. “Suck it, baby. Suck me deep.”

  Peter couldn’t resist such a sexy, growled command. He sunk down on Chip’s cock, taking more and more until his nose brushed his pelvis. Then, he sucked. He sucked until he hollowed out his cheeks, until the room was filled with the sound of him slurping. Faster and faster he bobbed his head over Chip’s big prick, drooling saliva, wrapping his hand around his spit-slick dick. He pumped him between his lips, gagging around the thick length until his eyes watered.

  It was the only way he could think to show his gratitude and love in that moment. With his free hand, Peter slid a finger into Chip’s tight asshole and pistoned it in and out in time with his sucking. As he slid that finger in deep, he hooked it and wriggled it, trying to reach that sweet spot inside his lover. He wanted Chip to explode in his mouth. He wanted to taste the bitter salt of his cum, swallow him down. He wanted it as though he were addicted to it.

  “Fuck,” Chip growled. His hand clamped against the back of Peter’s head, holding him down to the base, his cock battering the back of his throat. “Gonna cum,” he said, before clenching his teeth again.

  Chip’s eyes rolled back, his lashes fluttering on his flushed cheeks. Suddenly, his body tensed and his hips bucked upwards almost violently. Peter gagged, but then opened his throat, taking him all in as Chip’s cock spurted and spat thick white cream into his mouth and throat. Peter swallowed, mouth massag
ing around his pulsing dick. He could feel Chip cum deep in his ass and he wriggled his finger faster, pumping it in and out as Chip came.

  As his orgasm began to ebb, Peter slowly withdrew his finger to enhance his pleasure, to make his orgasm more intense.

  It worked like a charm and Chip cried out loudly, hips bucking, load after load of hot spunk filling Peter’s eager mouth. When at last he’d finished, Peter pulled back, wiping his hand across his lips.

  Before he could say or do anything, Chip tackled him, pinning him to the bed. “I need to fuck you,” he said, clearly not willing to take no for an answer. Not that Peter would say “no”. He’d never refuse Chip. So, he spread his legs.

  “Fuck me then,” Peter whispered, so turned on that he could barely contain himself. He felt as though he would cum right then and there even if Chip wanted to draw it out. He knew he didn’t have long. He could feel his release boiling just beneath his skin.

  He needed to cum and he needed to cum right now.

  “Make me cum…plea-”

  Chip cut him off by sliding, to the hilt, inside his ass. He could feel his big, heavy balls slap up against his ass.

  Two, thick strokes inside him and Peter came. His cum spurted up onto his stomach and chest and Chip moaned even more loudly as he watched his lover cum. Chip came shortly after. He came again in great, hot spurts in his ass.

  It went on and on. Chip fucked him. He blew Chip, until they were both exhausted and drenched in sweat and cum.

  As Peter laid there next to his man, he placed his head on his broad chest and stared up at the ceiling. He wondered if this was the same room that his ex was found hanging and a moment of clarity came to him. He knew what he had to do at that press interview more clearly now. He was thinking clearly now more than ever.

  CHAPTER 13

  “You ready?” his father asked him, whispering in his ear as the hot camera lights blazed down on them both. Peter couldn’t tell if his father felt any real concern for him or if he was just worried that Peter would fuck this up and make him and his family look bad again.

  Peter nodded. His eyes softening as he started to say to his father, “Dad, about the other day-”

  “Just stick to the script,” his father cut him off, taking his seat next to the publicist behind the camera.

  Peter sat down in the chair across from the interviewer. He recognized her as Patty Kingberry, one of the biggest broadcast journalists in the nation. Had it been any other occasion he would have been so excited that’d he’d ask her for her autograph. He knew her to be well-respected but someone who loved her gotcha moments. He knew what he had to do now but as he clenched the arms of the chair, he hoped he was making the right choice. His fate, his future and Chip and Johnny’s too hung on this interview.

  He sucked in a deep breath. He was ready. He had to be. This was his chance to set things right. He had to stand up for not only himself, but for his family too. It felt good, even if it was scary. Peter told himself it was okay to be scared, but he couldn’t show it.

  “Ready to start?” Patty asked him with a sweet smile. She was famous for her sweet quickly turning to sour on a dime and he could tell she had something up her sleeve behind those soft brown eyes.

  “Yeah,” he answered clearing his throat as they mic’d him up for the camera.

  “We’re live in 3… 2… 1… and …” the cameraman said signaling them.

  “Mr. Vanderbilt,” she began, “Peter, may I call you Peter?”

  “Absolutely,” he said, proud of how even and smooth his voice sounded. He smiled, easy and casual.

  “It was just a few weeks ago that your life seemingly was normal. You were a kindergarten teacher. You were a single, gay man, who went to work and came home, just like everybody else and then things changed. Can you tell us your story?” She looked so concerned, her voice lit with a empathetic warmth. He knew better than to underestimate her.

  Peter took a deep breath, thinking about how the publicist had rehearsed and rehearsed him. He knew the speech by heart by now but as he began it, it became more and more difficult. Not because he was nervous and had forgotten the words but because it just didn’t ring true. “I’m sorry. Can I start over?” Peter said, ready to be truthful. For once.

  “Well, we’re live Peter,” she said hiding her nervousness. There was a hard glint in her eye. Peter knew she’d be merciless if he made this difficult for her.

  “I mean, I’d rather tell you the truth.” Peter said.

  “The truth?” she said, her eyebrows arching, her smile curving as she leaned forward.

  “Yes, I know I’m supposed to say I’m sorry to America. That I did wrong. That I won’t do it again but that’s not the truth.” Peter said. He squared his shoulders. It was time to be real. Time to be honest. It was hard, but Peter knew it was the right thing to do.

  “It’s not?” she asked.

  Peter tried to ignore the desperate expressions of the publicist and his dad behind the camera.

  “No, it’s not. The truth is. I’m not sorry. I am an adult. I did nothing illegal and what I do on my own time, is my business.”

  “Really? Well, it may not have been illegal but do you really believe that it was the best example for the children that you teach?” she asked him, her voice sounding edgier.

  “I made a mistake. I made a choice and I’m 100% responsible for it. But what I did, I did with adults. It was something I’d never done before. Quite the opposite, actually. But I was desperate, I was lonely and it seemed like the best option at the time,” he explained, holding up his hands.

  “The best option? You couldn’t have gotten another job?” she pressed.

  “Believe me, I looked. I’d been looking for extra income for months, actually. You don’t know this Patty because you don’t live in our community but our economy was hit especially hard and though I would have welcomed working at McDonald’s, fast food restaurants just don’t pay the bills.”

  “Well, certainly Las Vegas isn’t the only community that’s been hard hit by economic times and not every American is rushing to do erotic massages.”

  “No, they’re not. And if I’d had any other options, I wouldn’t have either. I used to be just like you Patty, judgemental-”

  “I’m not-” she broke in sourly.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact you are. I used to sit on my high horse thumbing my nose down on anyone who’d ever even thought about being in the adult industry but now I get it. These are human beings too. These are husbands and wives. These are mothers and daughters, sons and fathers, these are people who are trying to make a living and maybe circumstances didn’t afford them any other options, we don’t know their story, I don’t know it. Do you?”

  “No, no I don’t, but-” she said, fumbling for words. Peter guessed she wasn’t used to things being turned around on her like that.

  “Is it a good example for kids? Maybe not. Maybe if they get a great job and save up their money, then they’ll have a happily ever after life. That’s what we teach them, after all. We tell them if they stay in school, and get an education and pay their taxes, and go to church then one day, one day they’ll get a picket fence and a silver watch but I did those things, Patty. A lot of America has done those things but it was a facade. We’ve all made choices we wouldn’t do again, all of us, even you. But you can’t change the past, all you can do is pick up the pieces and do the best you can, one foot at a time. That’s it.”

  Peter said it with such sincerity, such conviction, Patty’s jaw was dropped and as Peter looked behind the camera, he saw the publicist had done the same. His father, on the other hand, was no where to be seen. He must have slipped out of the hotel room when things started getting heated.

  Patty cleared her throat, and said, “Thank you. Peter Vanderbilt, everyone.” He nodded and smiled. He sure hoped it had made a difference, but even if it hadn’t, he’d been true to himself and honest and not ashamed. For once in his life.

  He ha
d Chip to thank. Chip helped him believe in himself. Chip helped him love himself again.

  ***

  Peter had no idea how the interview was perceived but he’d gotten to the point where he almost didn’t give a fuck. He’d been judged like a criminal like some awful human being for too long. He’d been put through the fire and controlled by Tony. He’d been kicked out and treated like crap for being gay by his own father and he wasn’t going to allow that to happen to himself anymore, not one more minute. He’d made his choices, he’d made his fair share of mistakes but who hadn’t done something they wished they hadn’t? He couldn’t think of a single perfect person on the planet. And he hoped what he said in the interview had at least helped one person. That’s what mattered.

  He was just grateful that he had Chip by his side and as he opened the door to Chip’s place, Chip ran up to him and hugged and kissed him so passionately, he knew what ever had happened, Chip at least had his back. No matter what would happen, he had his new family and they had him.

  “You were absolutely wonderful,” Chip said, kissing him again.

  “Really?” Peter blushed. Chip’s words meant everything to him.

  “You were beyond wonderful. You put that stuck up cunt in her place.” Chip said.

  “What’s a cunt?” Johnny asked.

  They both looked at him and blushed. “It’s a….” Chip started to say.

  Peter shook his head at Chip. Nope. They weren’t going to explain that one. “We’ll explain another time, Johnny,” Peter said stepping all the way in and shutting the door.

  “We ought to celebrate,” Chip said.

  “Sounds good to me,” Peter said, “But first, I think I need to just rest.” Though he considered the interview a success, it had drained him, worn him down. It was a huge relief but he felt so exhausted, the thought of a nice, long nap was quite seductive.