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My grade on this dumb paper has me half a point away from failing this class. Apparently, all the 80% grades I got on minor quizzes didn’t provide the buffer I thought they would.
Hunter is going to have my ass. Literally. I don’t know if the thought of that scares me or turns me on. Either way, I don’t think it’s something I want. Other than the fact that it’s a punishment, Hunter spanking me might change things.
More than they’ve already changed.
And it’s not just the little things. It’s all the things.
Hunter touches me more. He strokes my cheek, runs his fingers through my hair, wraps his arms around me from behind whenever I’m just standing there. And fuck does it feel good. He never says anything about it, and I’m scared that if I do, it’ll stop.
I don’t want it to stop. I also don’t want it to ruin the friendship we have. So if not talking about it is what keeps us where we are, then he won’t be hearing shit about it from me.
And if I can help it, he won’t be hearing shit about my grade in this class either.
Hunter said I only get to drink from him after the game if I get my grade up. And if he finds out there’s no way it’ll be up by Friday, I don’t know how long these nursing restrictions will go on for.
And I don’t really want to find out.
His milk has become like a fucking drug, and I’m starting to go through withdrawals. Sure, I still get a tiny bit in the morning when he’s uncomfortably full, but it’s hardly enough.
I can tell Hunter hates it too. It’s a lose/lose situation for us both.
Maybe I can convince him that despite my grade, it would be in both of our best interests to just go back to letting me relieve him in the morning. And maybe a little bit at night too.
Fully prepared to present my idea, I walk into our apartment, and my confidence escapes me when I see Hunter sitting on the couch. He’s looking at the door like he actually knew I was going to walk in when I did.
Well, fuck, here goes nothing then. “So, uh, Hunt?—”
“What’d you get on your paper?”
I freeze in my spot, not expecting the ambush.
Looks like my original plan isn’t going to work. That's fine. I’ll move on to Plan B. I’m not sure what Plan B is yet, but anything seems like it’ll work out better than Plan A.
“I did great! Got that 80 you wanted!”
Okay, so maybe Plan B wasn’t much better than Plan A. In fact, I think Plan B might end up being worse. Maybe I can go back to Plan A…
“Lucas, that's awesome! I knew you could do it.” Hunter smiles wide as he stands up off the couch to congratulate me. He looks so…proud.
And now, I feel bad.
Especially as his arms wrap around me, and I sink into the embrace.
“Y’know, I’m actually feeling a little full right now,” Hunter says, moving one of his arms so he can cup the back of my head with his hand. He pulls my head down to his chest that’s still covered by his shirt. It doesn’t matter, though. I can smell it. Even through the fabric, I can smell the milk in there. My milk. The milk that’s just for me. “You want some, baby?”
I nod my head, immediately getting on my knees, so I can be a little bit more comfortable. It’s somewhat awkward, but it’s better than me standing in a squatted position.
Hunter laughs and shakes his head, cupping my cheeks with both of his hands. He’s got that stupidly proud look in his eyes, silently telling me I did a good job.
I think I whimper from the guilt, but I still revel in his praise.
“Not here, baby. Let’s check your grade in the class, then we’ll head to the room.”
Right. Grade. Room. Wait…grade? My eyebrows furrow in confusion, and my head tilts to the side. “W-what do you mean?”
Hunter raises an eyebrow at me, that proud look in his eyes starting to fade.
No, no, no. Please don’t be mad at me.
