“Dude, that sounds pretty whipped for a Furballs song,” Dom said as soon as I began playing the melody.
“It’s a ballad,” I said, fingers moving over the keys as the notes drifted out of the open windows. “Now before you get all assfaced, just hear me out. All the big bands do ballads. Chicks love them. Aerosmith did a bucketload, so did Guns & Roses, Metallica, Anthrax, Pantera, even Ozzy did some.”
“Yeah but, C-man, it’s a fucking ballad. We’re not the motherfucking Carpenters, we’re a metal band.” I sighed, lifting my fingers from the keys. I knew they’d fight this song, and I knew Dom would rebel the hardest. He hated ballads. Called them ball-less corporate sellout songs. “I don’t know. I don’t like it but we can think about it.”
I spun from the piano and bobbed my head. They’d go think about it and come back with a fat no, I was sure of that. Which pissed me off but made me sad all at once. Whatever. I walked them back outside. Things were strained. They ate a ton of buffet food then left; the scene not quite chaotic enough for them. Feeling weirdly out of place and lonely at my own party, I moved through the halls of my home, climbing the stairs to spend some time with Maddie. She was my joy in a bottle. I knew the band didn’t get it, or refused to, but I wasn’t the same Colorado Penn. Madeline had changed me.
When I reached her door Joe was exiting. I pulled back and he gasped.
“Sorry,” I whispered as he closed the door behind him.
“Dude, whistle next time,” he teased. The hallway was dark, lit with a small nightlight that threw odd shapes of light up and down the corridor.
“Funny manny. Did I miss book and kissy time?” I ran my fingers over the doorframe of my daughter’s room.
“Yes, I’m sorry. She was really cranky after visiting with all the Raptors so we did an early bottle and book.” He leaned against Madeline’s door, searching my face. “You look… off. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, everything is fine.” I walked off, entered my room, and let my kimono slide off my arms to puddle to the floor. The voices of my teammates wafted up into my room.
I heard him walk up beside me. “Are you sure you’re okay?” The moon was a fat ball of white in the dark night sky.
“This is going to sound stupid, and I’m not ripping off Eric Clapton, but have you ever been happily strolling along the road of life and see a crossroads up ahead and not know which road to take?”
“Hmm, well, I’ve always been pretty set on my career path. Is this about the band coming to meet the team?”
“Yeah, sort of. No, not really.” I exhaled deeply and pushed my fingers through my hair. “I just foresee some issues. How can I be the father Madeline needs and be on the road all year long? I mean, hockey travel is going to keep me from her from October through April at the very least. Then I pick up and go on the road with the band? I don’t know.” I fisted my hair, both hands tight in the purple strands. My eyes began to water. “I refuse to be that kind of father. I refuse to be Liberty. But I love both things so much, how can I choose?”
He turned to face me, reaching up to untangle my fingers from my hair. Then, in a move that knocked me off my feet, he kissed each fingertip. The press of his soft lips to my fingers diffused the angst and anger welling up inside me. We moved to each other in unison, my arms sliding around him, his hands skipping nervously over my bare chest. His breathing was erratic and quick, like a wild baby rabbit cornered by a house cat. I nipped at his lower lip as he toyed with my nipples. Plucking, rubbing, twisting, making me huff and rub myself against him. He was hard too, the thick ridge of his cock pressing mine. We both inhaled at the contact, his palms now moving up to my shoulders. I gave him a gentle hip check, using my size to lever him from the open door. We danced clumsily across the room, my hands on his ass. We fell onto the bedding, legs knotting, mouths seeking, hands desperately tugging at zippers and belts until both of our cocks were freed. He lay under me, shirt twisted around his wiry frame.
“Oh… oh God,” he whimpered when I took us in hand, his fat cock resting atop mine. Pre-cum leaked out of me. I was always wet and oozy when I was aroused. I thumbed the liquid then rubbed it over the head of his dick. “Mm, oh shit I just…”
I kissed his mouth, long and hard, rocking my hips in and out. He clung to my arms, his nails biting into the flesh.
“I can stop. Do you want me to stop? Is it too much too fast?” I asked, my voice thick and rough as sandpaper. Please say keep going.
His hips chased mine when I moved to give him room to breathe. “No, don’t stop. This is perfect. Perfect.” He arched into my hand, grabbing handfuls of hair and tugging my mouth back to his. We pumped with abandon, his tongue sliding over mine, eager to feel the release riding down on us like a stampeding herd. My balls drew up. I bit down on his lower lip, then pushed up using my legs to ram my cock against his.
“God, oh God… I’m… shit yes!” He blew apart then, coating my hand, his kisses sloppy and demanding. Warm cum coated our dicks. I held him close with one
