A Dinner Party.
Carina had managed dinner without uttering a single word if it could be helped, answering only when spoken to and with minimal word use. Under no circumstances did she want to come across as rude or disobedient by not using her words but that still didn’t stop Carina from digging her heels in about making eye contact. So instead Carina counted the tines on her fork and thought about her dollhouse.
Esme had laden the formal dining room table with a spread fit for a Thanksgiving feast: garlic and herb-roasted pheasant, cream potatoes, French cut green bean casserole, lightly buttered dinner rolls, a house salad (vegetables picked from the garden) with a homemade balsamic vinaigrette dressing, and bread pudding for dessert. Yet even with such a magnanimous feast, Carina only picked and shifted the food around on her plate.
Carina occasionally lifted her eyes from her plate, only to catch Aaron making eyes as Matt. She now found herself infuriated, forcing herself to lower her line of sight. The thought of an outburst became more tempting by the second. Matt must have been able to sense the shift in her mood because he had made sure to survey her manners from time to time. They were what she came to know as behavioral checkpoints, and she’d got scrutinized more than twice tonight. Her only consolation being Matt never really seemed vested in any advances that Aaron had made.
“Dinner was amazing,” Aaron beamed at Matt and then a glance in Carina’s direction, she didn’t look up, let alone return the smile.
“I’m glad everyone enjoyed themselves,” Matt bore his eyes into Carina, his hands clapped at his chin, “right little one?”
Carina nodded.
“Use your words Pretty Girl,” Matt furrowed his brow.
“Yes. Sir,” Carina stared back at him and spoke with sarcastic defiance, “it was lovedly. May I be excused?”
Matt looked at her curiously, “Are you not feelin’ well?”
“I’m fine. I just figured you’dlike to spend more time with Aaron, I mean Mr. Tomlin,” Carina was never allowed to call anyone by their first name but Esme. Matt’s breathing picked up speed and his chest dramatically puffed in and out like a ventilator; he’d caught her insinuation that he’d want to spend more time with Aaron than her. He was both upset that she was acting bratty and that she’d assume he’d put anyone before her.
“You’re excused,” Matt looked at her a thunderstorm brewing within his rich oak eyes.
Carina placed her napkin on the table, stood, curtseyed mockingly, and then curtly nodded to them both before exiting the dining room.
Matt quietly, listening to Carina stomp down the hallway like a sullen child.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Matt stood, placed his napkin on the table, and then proceeded to stalk down the corridor after Carina.
In a few long strides, he’d caught up to her and snatched her by her arm and spun her around with such strength she nearly tripped over her own feet. Her patent leather shoes would be scuffed, the idea of that made Carina frown harder.
“Carina Michelle Thorpe, just what the fuck was that?” he interrogated; rage fiercely barricated behind his teeth.
Carina’s eyes just widened at his fury. Opening and then closing her mouth, she chased on every word she tried to force out. Matt had used her full name, if she hadn’t been worried about punishment before she damn well was now.
“I said to behave like a young lady, and you did the exact opposite!” she’d never heard him shout so viciously before not even when they first fought about her Jetta, but now his voice reverberated throughout the halls and then he sent her to her room. His voice still itself to a sharp edge without warning and left her in silence as he sauntered off back towards the dining room. Matt’s words and wild eyes still lingering with her.
Matt, like a gracious host, returned to the table.
“I don’t think your Carina is very fond of me,” Aaron spoke in something of a hushed tone.
“It’s Carrie and she isn’t fond of anyone,” Matt spoke seriously, “I like her that way. But please forgive her she is still being broken in.”
“Isn’t that going to make things hard?” Aaron sounded appreciate.
“Carrie is as obedient as she is beautiful. She just hasn’t yet come around to the idea of sharing. You have to Remember here at the estate she is free to be herself and that happens to be a bratty eight-year-old who’s just moved into a new home.” Matt replied, confident he could get Carina to see things his way.
Aaron noticed for once that Matt was actually looking at him for the first time tonight. He drank in the mess of Matt’s light brown hair and deep oak eyes. Aaron also noticed that Matt had a scar that began at the side of his left nostril and stop just before the corner of his mouth. He wasn’t conventionally handsome, but the doubtless way he carried himself, how elastic and exclusive he was made Aaronall the more aroused.
“Sharing huh?” Aaron smiled and tried to reach for Matt’s hand. Matt moved his hand and stepped over his guest’s confusion.
“Let’s get this started, shall we?” always to the point, Matt stood pushing his chair back, waiting for Aaron in kind.
Aaron’s 6’2 solid frame towered over Matt’s 5’11, it made Matt let out a shallow breath.
“Unzip them,” Matt breathed as he faced the table. Aaron unbuckled and slackened the belt, sliding Matt’s dress jeans down around his muscled thighs. Aaron instantly hardened and turned to face the dining table too and bent Matt over. Aaron quickly unzipped his trousers and pulled them down in a haste liberating his erect cock.
“Jesus Christ,” Matt bit his lip as Aaron thrust himself violently into Matt from behind before picking up at a pinton-like pace.
Aaron anchored himself to Matt’s hips with immense hands and sizable fingers. Matt’s cock bobbed up and down like a chocolate tide with every repetitiveand vigorous thrust. Matt’s face shifted into pleasure and Aaron bit down on his lip as he picked up the tempo at an aggressive speed.
Until Aaron slowed to a tormenting rhythm and made to pull out of Matt.
“Don’t,” he breathlessly ordered, and Aaron halted all movement leaving the head of his swollen cock inside of Matt. Matt inhaled sharply as his muscles tense and squeezed around Aaron’s cock. They both fought the urge to cum.
“Fuuuck,” Aaron leaned his head back and propelled himself inside Matt to the hilt, he could no longer stave off the urges. The muscles in Aaron’s hips and abdomen stiffened, he was cumming and Matt could feel the heat of him releasing like warm satisfaction causing his dick to jump and jerk.
In response, Matt answered with a thunderous moan as his body shivered with indulgence. He held tight to the edge of the sturdy wooden table and righted himself just enough to allow his leaping cock to spasm and spurt his release onto the linen tablecloth.
Aaron pinned Matt to him for a breath longer as he finished cumming. Matt clenched as Aaron pulled out, he had all intentions of carrying the cum inside him for a bit before he cleaned up.
Both Matt and Aaron stood upright and began to straighten themselves. Both ignoring the glaiming spackle on the table. Matt pulled up his trousers and boxer briefs, he could feel cum trying to see out and attempting to create a stain, it was making him hard again. Tucking his white oxford back inside his jeans, buckling his thick leather belt, and again appearing as put together as he once had ahead of dinner Matt stuck a free hand inside one of a pant pocket. Aaron on the other hand still seemed disheveled even though he too had retreated his trousers and belt.
“That was,” Aaron started.
“I should hope we can do this again Sometimes,” Matt interrupted Aaron and willed himself not reach his hand out and treat this like a business transaction, “Esme will clean this up.” Matt glanced at the dinner table
Aaron looked confused, “Um, yeah. Tonight, was great.”
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a little who needs a reminder of what table manners are,” Matt nodded to Aaron, pushed his chair in, and made his way towards the hall he’d disappeared down earlier.
“Oh, I. I uh, thought,” Aaron realized a moment too late what exactly was happening.
Matt paused and turned to face Aaron.
“Matt,” Aaron struggled to begin again, a painful expression to foil Matt’s blank one.
“Look, Aaron,” Matt cut him off again, “this was fun and under the right circumstances still could be fun.”
Aaron shifted his weight from the ball of one foot to another and waited for the ‘but’ to happen.
“But,” and there it was, “nothing comes before Carina.”
“You said you weren’t in a relationship,” Aaron protested.
Matt held up a hand.
“And I am not. At least not in the traditional sense,” Matt glanced at Aaron with sympathetic eyes, “I never lied to you. I was straightforward about Carina and our living arrangements. I was upfront about what I was looking for when you approached me.”
“Mmm,” Aaron shoved his hands into his pockets, “right. I see.”
The difficult part to swallow was that Matt was correct, he had been honest with him as well as forthcoming about Carina. Aaron just wasn’t usually the one on this side of things, he was never the one to wonder if the other person was going to call back the next day. Aaron Tomlin was always the one that never called back. Being with Matt was a humbling experience and not just because he had money but because Matt was being generally honest with him. Carina was his little and Aaron was a little piece of ass.
“I hope you do,” Matt’s deep voice was almost apologetic. But he knew he didn’t see; Aaron didn’t understand at all. There were very few people outside of their world that did.
“I have a little and she is my main priority. If that is not somehing that you can understand than it is what it is,” Matt forced himself not to shrug, and Aaron stood for a moment drowning in the awkward silence. Neither man enjoying how uncomfortable the air in the room had become.
“Esme will show you out,” Matt nodded at Aaron and gave him a small smile.
“Ok. Well, I’ll text you,” Aaron stuffed his hands in his pockets, then noticed her standing in the walkway patiently awaiting him. Esme, the same petite gray-haired woman that answered the door and had shown Aaron in had reappeared and was here to show him out. He was angry but mostly at himself, Matt wasn’t being rude or pretentious he was just following the rules he’d given Aaron to the T and Aaron couldn’t use his good looks or sex to charm his way out of it. In essence, he couldn’t manipulate the situation or the man.
Matt wasn’t sure if Aaron texting him later was the truth or not and he wasn’t particularly concerned about it either. Aaron knew the rules and unless he could accept them or at the very least be honest with himself about things, Matt wouldn’t be answering any text Aaron might send.
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