Dream Job

A new biology teacher was hired and my hallway felt safe again. One afternoon, as I headed to the parking lot, I spotted a familiar sports car and I felt the blood drain out of my whole body.

Just then I saw Devin and a woman carrying a few boxes to the car. That must be Jessica. They were here to pick up his things. He was officially not coming back. Devin saw me and approached while his mom moved the boxes around the tiny trunk trying to make them fit.

"Hey Tristan, how are you doing?" He smiled and asked casually. I figured he didn't want to alert his mom as to who I was.

"I'm doing really good, thank you." I didn't ask any of the questions that popped into my mind. I didn't want to know anything.

"Great, I'm so glad to hear it. Mom got her own place. She's doing way better now too." He looked relieved. It made sense.

"It was nice seeing you, Devin. I'm going to head out." I turned and climbed into my car.

"He's in a nursing home. He's as miserable as he deserves to be." He said it as I was fastening my seatbelt. I didn't reply. I just started my car and pulled away.

I was angry that I had to hear about him at all. I didn't want to be mad at Devin though. I'd come to think of him and his mom as victims of the same monster that had hurt me.

I called Chris and told him about the encounter. I yelled about it and he let me vent until I felt better. I called Ronna about it as well. She told me I was justified in my anger.

Between the two of them, I felt better before I even got home. I nearly tackled Chris when he came home with some groceries a short while later.

"I missed you! I'm so happy you're home." I kissed him as I said the words against his soft lips.

"I'm always happy to come home to you, love." He wrapped his arms around me and held me.

A few days later, on Saturday morning, I awoke before Chris and I watched him sleeping next to me. He was incredibly beautiful.

Chris was a very large man, which had always been my type, but I thought it had been ruined for me. It wasn't. Chris was taller than any guy I'd dated before, at nearly six foot, six inches. A full foot taller than me. He weighed around 265 most of the time.

His skin was the color of milk chocolate and his eyes sparkled. They were dark, warm brown and his smile was perfect. Like "picture at the dentist's office" perfect. His lips were soft and full and they always tasted delicious.

Chris carried a bit of extra weight on his frame, making him even cuddlier and more attractive in my eyes. He had giant feet and when I suggested he get a pedicure, he did. And he still went every few weeks. He enjoyed it and wanted to please me.

He wore a trim mustache and a trail of hair down his chin. He always looked put together and fashionable, in his big man sort of way.

We'd shared a bed for over a month, so I knew he also had a massive penis. I'd stroked it and even licked it several times over the last few days. Things were definitely getting hotter between us. My big, patient, beautiful man.

I carefully pulled the covers back and exposed his chest. I loved his tight curly hair that lightly covered his pecs and tummy. I loved his smooth skin. I pushed the blanket down even further and found his morning wood.

I wrapped my small hand around him and started to run it up and down the length. I looked back up at his face and he was awake and watching me. The look in his eyes made my body throb.

I kissed him, using my tongue until he was moaning from the contact of our mouths and my hand on his giant member. "I love you, babe. That feels so good."

Everything had been at my pace. He never asked me to do anything to him or for him, sexually. He always accepted what I did do to him, and he always seemed to love it.

"Chris, I love you, too. I want to show you how much. I want you." I said it into his neck as we clung together.

"Whatever you want, Tristan. I'll give you whatever you want. Whatever you need."

"I need you. I want to ride you. I want to be on top." I was scared that I'd have a flashback if I was under a big body. He seemed to understand without any explanation. He nodded and gave me a sexy smirk.

I rolled away and climbed off the bed. "I'll be right back." I went into the bathroom.

When I returned, he was flat on his back, arms under his head. His legs were slightly spread and his dick was laying against one thick leg. He dominated the king sized bed.

He watched me as I pulled my sleep pants off. I picked up the bag I'd grabbed from the bathroom and climbed back onto the bed.

"What's in the bag?" He asked.

"This." I pulled out a bottle of lubricant.

"When did you buy that?" He smiled a knowing smile at me.

"About a week ago. I wanted to be ready when I was ready. You know?"

He nodded and smiled at me again. "Come here." He pulled his arms from under his head and reached for me. I fell into his arms and kissed him hard.

We took our time and made out, touching each other and whispering words of love between kisses. But my erection, and his, couldn't be ignored for much longer. I was filled with need. It felt incredible to want this so much.

I open the lube and put some in my hand. I grabbed his cock, covering it with the slippery liquid as I stroked his full length.

I climbed on top of him and stared into his loving eyes. I lifted myself slightly and aimed his slickened flesh. I lowered my body until I felt his head at my entrance.

He brought his hands around my waist to steady me as I slowly took the huge tip inside. My body was relaxed and it felt perfect. I wasn't fearful at all.

I pushed my body down onto him and he sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. He'd been so patient and he must be desperate for this release. I want this to be all about his pleasure.

It seemed to be pleasurable for us both. I had half expected it to hurt. I also thought I'd be turned off once we connected, but it didn't happen.

My body being stretched tightly around him felt incredible. His huge frame under me made me feel powerful. The way he looked at me made me feel invincible and loved. I needed him more than I ever knew I could need anyone.

I lowered my body until I was full. I started to push up and then back down. My pace was awkward and slow, but neither of us cared right then.

I finally found a position and an angle that felt amazing and was easier to ride him in. Our bodies met over and over until my legs were trembling from the effort.

Chris sat up underneath me and carefully held me in place while he adjusted his position. He was now sitting up, holding me in his lap, his legs bent and crossed under me.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, which gave me the leverage I needed to start riding his thick shaft again. As I slid up and down him, he held me close and kissed my face and neck.

Soon the sensations were nearly overwhelming, but I wanted more and more. "Help me. I need it faster, babe." I whisper into his ear as I sat impaled on my big man.

He easily supported my small body as he started to thrust up to meet my movements. I screamed at the contact and the pleasure. My sounds urged him on.

He gripped my waist tighter as he controlled my whole body, like I was an oversized fuck toy. I loved it. He pushed me up and pulled me back down as his hips thrust up into mine.

"Yes, Chris! Fuck me harder!" I yelled out, my head thrown back. He fucked me harder.

My petite, pale body bounced in his lap as we both sought our release. "You feel so fucking good, Tristan. I love you, babe." His words were quiet but his body spoke volumes.

I felt his cock throb inside my tight hole as our pace got more frantic, sweat beading on his forehead and my own running down my back. I gasped for air as our bodies collided harder and faster.

"Yes! Fuck yes!" My whole body was shaking. "I'm going to cum!"

"Fuck! Me too!" He kept pumping and I renewed my efforts to ride his whole length.

"Chris!" I yelled his name as my body erupted, my cock rubbing up against him as I rode. He kept pushing and pulling my body, using my ass for his pleasure, his climax just around the corner, as my body emptied itself all over his chest and stomach.

His thrusts were coming so fast I knew he was right there. His arms locked around me, pushing me down onto him fully. His climax burst and he squeezed me tighter as he struggled to breathe, his seed pumping into my ass.

It seemed like hours passed before we stopped holding each other so tightly. His arms loosened and then caressed my damp skin gently.

"Are you alright?" He asked calmly.

"I'm fucking amazing. I love you so much." I started to cry in his arms. I was happy and relieved and still engaged bodily with my beautiful man.

"I love you too, babe. That was incredible. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

I understood where his concern came from. I shook my head no because I couldn't find the words.

He managed to get us both back under the blankets and I laid in his big, strong arms, feeling safe and loved. We dozed and then took a shower together.

The rest of the weekend was spent in bed. There was lots of cuddling, kissing and talking and several more rounds of mind blowing love making. He still let me set the pace.

We had dinner at Ronna's place in the middle of the week. She pulled me aside in the kitchen at one point. "Congratulations." She winked at me.

"Did he tell you?" I asked, not surprised.

"He didn't have to. You're both glowing. I know my brother and I've never seen him so happy and content, ever. You make him truly happy." She walked away before I could respond.

We spent Thanksgiving with Ronna and a few of their friends. I was introduced as Chris's partner. His friends were all excited to meet me. They all wanted to know who had made their friend so blissfully happy.

That night, back at our place, Chris was laying next to me, smiling at me. "What?" I asked him while blushing under his loving gaze.

"I love you. I want you to meet my mom."

I knew his mom lived in Jamaica. His grandparents had moved to America when they were first married. His mom and her sister was born here, as were Chris and Ronna. Their mother had moved to take care of his grandfather, who had gone back to the island decades before.

"I'd love to. Is she coming for the holidays?"

"No, she can't get away. I thought we could go to Jamaica for Christmas." He looked hopeful.

I sat up in bed. "Really? Jamaica for Christmas? I would love that! Seriously, I've always wanted to go to the caribbean, especially in the winter." I couldn't contain my excitement. I bounced where I sat.

"She'll be so happy to meet you. You make me so happy, she'll love you for that, no matter what."

My friends at work were excited for me. Everyone was excited about the holidays and the time off school. I barely remember the last day before the winter break started.

Chris met me in the parking lot at work. He stepped out of his car, kissed and hugged me close. In the distance I heard some students yelling encouragement and "get a room" and so on.

We went directly to the airport and started making our way to a wonderful holiday with his family. I was nervous and excited.

It was 86° when we landed, the island was lush and green and the sun was shining bright. Chris looked so happy and he held my hand as we walked to the taxi stand.

When we pulled up in front of the family house, it wasn't what I expected. I don't actually know what I expected, but this wasn't it.

I guess I expected either a modern townhouse, or a beach shack with a metal roof or maybe even a colonial Victorian looking place. But the house looked Spanish, like lots of houses in Los Angeles.

From the outside, my first thought was "quaint" and "charming". The front of the house was nearly covered in flowering vines and bushes. It looked like a postcard.

I stood next to the taxi as Chris pulled out our luggage and tipped the driver. They hugged like old friends even though they'd never met. I smiled about that too. I hadn't stopped smiling in weeks.

"Oh my goodness, Christopher! Get that poor pale boy out of that sun before he burns to a crisp." I heard the jovial voice before I saw her.

A plush and beautiful older woman rushed into Chris's arms and started crying immediately. It had to be his mom. She looked so much like Ronna, just older.

She released him and turned to me. "Come here, sweet baby." She opened her arms to me and I stepped into them, gladly. She smelled like roses and delicious food and a bit like Chris somehow.

Shortly, she dragged us into the house and out of the sun. She told me she'd bought me a sun hat and sunscreen. She wasn't going to have her new son suffering through his first trip to the island. She was so accepting and loving before she'd even met me. I was overwhelmed.

Chris and I settled in our room in the guest house and he held me and kissed me as I dealt with the over abundance of love I'd been given so easily. He'd warned me this would happen, but it still caught me off guard. It was the most incredible feeling.

Within half an hour, the main house started to fill with people. The house was massive. It seemed tiny from the driveway, which was clearly an optical illusion because it was actually ridiculously large. Chris told me it was over 10,000 sq. feet and it had originally been run as a hotel. He said there were nine bedrooms besides our guest house.

Aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews, grandkids and family friends poured in over the next few hours. Ronna was the last one to arrive the next morning. She was in the kitchen when we woke up, helping the others make enough breakfast for a hundred people. I'd only counted about thirty people last night, but no one was going to go hungry in this house, clearly.

I wasn't the only pale, non-Jamaican person in the family, it turned out. Out of the thirty or so family members I'd already met, five of them were white and another handful were mixed from those interracial couplings. Everyone was treated the same.

Except Chris. He was the apple of his mother's eye. She fawned over him and fed him and hugged him every time she walked by him. She hugged me quite often as well. There were always people cooking. One of the white husbands was a chef and he ruled the grill out in the courtyard.

I asked Chris if all this craziness was just for the holiday and he assured me it was not. This was pretty normal here, which is why he made sure we got the guest house. He knew I'd need space and a break from the chaos and so did he, truthfully.

We woke up on the morning of Christmas Eve and made love before we left the safety of our private nest. After we'd finally had sex several months ago, we became fiends for each other. I wanted him constantly and he felt the same for me.

He'd been on top plenty of times and I never felt uncomfortable with anything he did. When he took me from behind, it still didn't bother me. With Chris and Ronna's help and support, I'd moved on from my assault.

Sex with my partner, my gorgeous, passionate lover, was nothing resembling the attack. They were two totally different things now and I didn't think about it except on rare occasions, mostly at school, when a student or teacher had mentioned him. Here on the island, he didn't even exist.

The extended family were even more jovial and loving as Christmas Eve dinner grew closer, if that was even possible. I'd offered to help in the kitchen, but I just got in the way.

"Why don't you and Chris go for a walk and gather flowers. Use your artistic eye to make us a bouquet for the table." Mom said as she kissed my cheek.

Her name was Renae but she insisted I call her Mom. I'd expected to love her from everything Chris said before we came. But I didn't expect to love this whole, huge, crazy family. But I did and they loved me right back.

Jamaican families didn't accept gay or lesbian children, nearly as a rule. But in this extended family, Renae ruled all things and she loved her son unconditionally so everyone else in the family did too. He was exceptionally lucky to have this strong, incredible woman in his corner.

Dinner was fantastic and I easily gained several pounds while devouring it with this laughing, loving, vibrant family.

The extended family exchanged gifts after dinner, mostly of food, or the offers of services. Chris's uncle promised to build Mom a new deck. One cousin committed to child care for another cousin, etc.

It was late when Chris and I made our escape to the guest house. In the morning, the immediate family would have a more traditional American style gift exchange. I had made jewelry for Ronna and Mom. I had a special gift for Chris.

We had a rather physical round of passionate sex that night, in the early hours of Christmas day. We slept in each other's arms, sated and in love.

We ate breakfast and exchanged gifts, much like everyone did back home. Ronna loved the necklace and bracelet I'd made for her. Mom changed her outfit to match her new necklace and earrings I'd crafted just for her. It was such a mom thing to do, it made my heart swell.

Chris opened my gift and I felt nervous. He pulled the paper away and stared at it with awe. "Babe!" He exclaimed while still looking down at the object in his hands.

He finally turned it around and showed the ladies. I had painted him a family portrait. Ronna had helped me gather pictures and she explained who everyone was and how they fit together. I had painted them like they'd all posed together, even though some of them were already passed.

Chris, Renae and Ronna were in the center. His grandparents that had moved to America, Mom's parents were on one side and his aunt, uncle and their son was on the other side. His cousin that I painted, James, had died in a car accident five years before. And the grandparents were both gone now, too.

I painted the family in shades of blue, purple and green. It was slightly impressionistic but it was still easy to see who everyone was and the joy on their faces. I was extremely proud of it and now seeing Chris's reaction, I felt tingly all over.

Mom and Ronna both exclaimed and rushed to Chris's side to look at the painting with him. They pointed out each person and laughed and cried together.

Mom was the first to grab me and squeeze me until my back cracked in about seven places. Ronna was next. She couldn't believe I'd taken a dozen family photos, many old and faded, and compiled a portrait that captured each and every one of them.

When she pulled away, I looked back at Chris and he had tears running down his face. I went to him and he pulled me into his lap and kissed me. He whispered into my ear, telling me how much he loved me and how this was the best thing anyone had ever given him or his family.

I promised to have canvas copies made when we got home for the rest of the family. The original would hang in a place of pride in our place back in Seattle.

Chris had given me the tablet I'd wanted, that was designed for artists. He'd also written me a letter that told our story, from his perspective. He told me it was easy to see things with your own eyes, but you rarely got to see how it looked to others. So he'd written our history down, in letter form, as he saw it. It was beautiful and I would cherish it.

After Christmas dinner, we walked on the beach as the sun set and illuminated the whole horizon with pinks and oranges and purples. It was spectacular. I turned back to tell Chris that I was going to paint this for him, too.

He was on one knee, looking up at me when I turned to tell him. "Chris! What are you doing?"

"I'm asking the love of life to marry me. Will you marry me, Tristan?"

I know it was only a second, but it felt like time slowed way down as I tried to find my voice. Finally I gasped out my reply. "Oh my god, yes, yes yes!"