Tethered Master Trent (MxM...xM?) | Random Updates

8.Small Talk

 It's Saturday and I'm stuck at work but this dumb smile won't go away no matter how much time I spend staring at the numbers and tables on my screen.

Last night was truly something. I hadn't done a scene in a while. So maybe that's what I needed to get over my stress and that panic attack. I still can't believe I've had a panic attack.

My gaze fixes on a number, but I don't see it. Those moments of breathlessness and pain pass through me like a ghost.

It doesn't take long before I catch myself and purposely think about last night. Again. And the smile returns along with some fluttery feelings I can't ignore.

Xander had his arms around me and we were kissing when I first heard Coach speak.

A deep and imposing voice that brought goosebumps to my skin.

"Thanks for the scene, Xander. Same time next week?" Coach says on his way to the bathroom.

The pretty Master frowns and seems confused for a second but then nods. "Oh, yeah, you have that thing this weekend."

I look at Coach unable to deny my curiosity.

He grins and wiggles his brows playfully, "Going to fuck my hubby all weekend long, baby."

This big guy's manhood is rock hard and purple at the tip and I can't help gawking at it. He's not very long but he's definitely thick. I hope his husband's ass can take it and I assume he tops because he moves his hips and sets his palm at the level where a guy's butt would go as he adds, "Starting tonight!"

He's about to enter the bathroom when he turns toward me, "And thanks to you too," a brief pause before he continues, "Trent, right?"

I nod and smile cheekily, "My pleasure."

"You've put on quite a show," Coach speaks loudly already inside the bathroom.

"Come on," Xander urges me taking a hold of my hand.

We follow Coach and somehow all three of us fit into the shower.

"The way you tied up the paddle, that's really something. Are you into the fancy rope bondage — what's the name?" His voice is even more powerful inside the bathroom.

"Shibari. Yeah," I answer and keep my eyes on Xander.

He's busied himself with soaping up my torso, a mischievous smile on his lips that I'm quickly becoming familiar with. He's having naughty thoughts and frankly, all I want is to stick my tongue in his mouth. And then my dick soon after.

"Where do you work out?" Coach pries away the dirty images in my head.

"Er, a place downtown."

"You're doing a fine job of it. Got a personal trainer?"

"Nah." I ogle Coach and grin at him, "You're not too shabby yourself."

He's fucking ripped. More so than I am. I could play chess on those square abs and trust him to bare-handedly hold up my car if I ever need to change a tire.

"I have to look like this. Coach Hugh - personal trainer at your disposal," he says extending soapy fingers toward me.

We shake hands as I say, "Trent Schmidt, glorified accountant."

"Well, shit, I know who I'm calling now if I need help with my taxes."

I scoff and release his hand then set it on Xander's pale fingers on my lower abdomen. He's massaging my back in smooth, foamy strokes and I look over my shoulder at him.