Boy Toy Chronicles
Page 29

“That's not what you said last night,” I retort.
“Burn!” Troy shouts, high fiving me. He takes a sip of the orange juice straight out of the bottle and slams it on the counter next to Allie's legs. I pick it up and start drinking it.
“That's disgusting,” she all but shouts, slapping it out of my hand. It falls out of my grasp and smashes to the floor, spilling everywhere.
The boys laugh.
I narrow my eyes at her. “Babe, last night you had me sucking your toes, licking your asshole, and then you practically begged me to tongue your pussy. And you think that's disgusting?”
The boys go quiet, anticipating my impending doom. Allie just laughs. “You want me to tell the boys what you begged me to do with your asshole?”
Before I can respond, my phone beeps with a text.
It's from Mrs. Fletcher.
Tyler, I'm sorry to bother you but something is wrong with one of my babies and I'm too distraught to drive. Can you please take me to the vet?
I reply without a second thought.
I'll be there soon. It'll be okay.
Allies eyes are narrowed as she looks from the phone to me.
“I have to run an errand. Come with?”
She nods and jumps off the counter when I step back.
“Who's cleaning the juice?” Troy asks.
“You think because you have one nut you get out of cleaning duties? On your knees, bitch,” Shem says through a laugh, but he's already grabbing the mop to do it himself.
***
“So what are we doing?” Allie asks while we get dressed after showering together.
“One of my old clients needs help with something. It's not sex.”
She stops halfway through shrugging on her shirt. “What do you mean client? What?”
“I told you I was a male escort.”
Her eyes widen. She picks up the closest thing to her and shouts, “I thought you were kidding!” Then she throws whatever is in her hand. My TV remote. And it hits me square in the eye.
“Mother fucking shit!” I cover my eye with my hand and start limping around the room because apparently all injuries to guys cause limps.
“I'm sorry,” she squeals, and the next thing I know she's guiding me to sit down on my bed.
“What the hell, Allie?”
“I lost it. You know I have anger issues. I'm sorry. But I honestly thought you were kidding when you said that. Are you still doing it? Because I don't want to share you, Ty.”
“No. Shut up.” I pull my hand away and wince when she inspects it with her finger. “I quit the day after you took a dump on my heart.”
“That's going to bruise,” she tells me.
“Great. Now I'll be known as Cum-fart; the guy who let his girlfriend beat him.”
She laughs. “I'll let you touch my boobs if you forgive me.”
I fake annoyance. “I’ll forgive you if you move in with me after we graduate.” Then I grab a handful of her tits. “Honk!”
She slaps my hands away. “Are you messing around because I can’t tell when you’re honking my breasts?”
“No, I’m serious,” I tell her, looking up and showing her that I am. “It can’t possibly come as a surprise to you that I’d want this. You know I’m insanely in love with you.” I reach around and grab her ass. “Honk!”
She grips both of my hands and places them beside me. “Tyler, come on.”
With a sigh, I stand up and settle my hands on her waist. “Allie. I love you. I hate it when we’re not together. And no, it’s not about the sex or the fooling around. If tomorrow you said you were taking a vow of celibacy, I’d still want to be around you. Shit. If you made me sit around and watch your shitty TV shows, I’d still want to be with you. Please don’t do either of those things, by the way. I think that even if we weren’t together we’d still end up living together, don’t you?”
She nods slowly.
“So?”
A smile spreads across her beautiful face. “Yes.” She reaches out and grasps my crotch. “Honk!”
***
We pick up Mrs. Fletcher from her house. I introduce Allie to her as my girlfriend and I swear it—I don't think Mrs. Fletcher has smiled so wide since before her husband died. Allie, on the other hand—well, let's just say I have a little more explaining to do.
Babsy paces the waiting room at the Vet while Allie and I sit and watch. Finally, Allie sighs and stands up to go to her. “Is there anything I can get you, Mrs. Fletcher? A coffee or water or anything at all?”
Mrs. Fletcher takes her hand in both of hers. “You're so sweet. I'm just nervous is all. Thank you.”
A man, I assume the vet, appears from the hallway and stops when he sees Allie and Babsy together. Looking at them now, I swear they could be mother and daughter. A chuckle escapes as memories of Cynthia and her Big Black Cock come to mind. All three of them turn to me quickly. I straighten my features and stand up, mumbling an apology.
“Hi,” the vet says, raising his hand between him and Mrs. Fletcher. “I'm Bruce. I'm the vet.”
Babsy’s hands tremble as she shakes his. “I-I-I'm Babsy,” she says nervously. “Are you new?” she asks him.
He's about the same age as her, tall, good build, dark hair with hints of gray.
“Yes,” he answers, still not letting go of her hand. “I just moved here after my divorce.”