Page 45 of My Big Fat Shifter Wedding

With an ardent pistoning of his hips, I felt him release within me, warm and primal in a way that nearly redoubled my climax. Or maybe it was all in my mind. But it didn’t matter if it was psychosomatic or somatic, what mattered was that it just was and my head was in the clouds while my body was… I dunno, whatever afterlife people went to in order to orgasm really hard. I wasn’t exactly religious.

But the entire night with Keith was making me wonder if I could be, because this was beginning to feel like worship.

Together, we tumbled through our mutual orgasms, clinging to each other in a way that had to be holy. Keith came down first, and it was only once the buzzing in my ears faded that I realized he was talking me through the waning intensity of mine.

“God, you look so beautiful like this. I could watch you come this way every single day and it still wouldn’t be enough. There you go, there you go, just breathe for me. You’re perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect.”

I tended to go nonverbal in bed so I could concentrate on all the good feelings, but I didn’t mind him talking. In fact, I liked it. It was like he filled the space in a way that I couldn’t. Although we’d only had one very long date, I definitely got the impression we were like that in a lot of different ways. Alike in all the important aspects but filling in the gaps where the other one needed a little help.

When my orgasm finally released me, it was like I was a marionette whose strings had disappeared without warning. One moment, I was still stiff and quivering, locked in the throes of passion and pleasure, the next I was toppling forward. Keith caught me and lowered me to his chest. My legs were throbbing. I might actually walk funny tomorrow, but only because of the lack of my own conditioning.

I really need to do more than go on pack runs...

But any sort of conditioning or cardio could wait for another day, because at the moment, I was completely and utterly content. There was nothing I wanted to do more than fall asleep against the warm, broad expanse of Keith’s barrel chest.

Well... I supposed there was one other thing that I would really, really like.

“You wanna do this again sometime?” I croaked, my mouth dry. “Not just the sex, the whole date thing. It was nice.”

It wasn’t the most elegant way to ask someone on the second date, but also, it was the only time that I’d ever had to, and I was surprised I could even form intelligible sentences considering how blissed out and boneless I felt.

Belatedly, that pessimistic part of my mind said that if he told me no, our post-sex cuddle would be awkward.

“I couldn’t agree more. How does next weekend sound for you?”

I smiled into his chest, so happy that I knew it was going to follow me into my dreams. “That sounds perfect.”

11

KEITH

TIME FLIES WHEN FALLING IN LOVE

Time was a funny thing.

For the past two years, I had felt stuck in a quagmire of it, weighed down by wasted years of spinning my wheels and daunted by all the unknowns stretching in front of me. While I had been longing for that to change, I certainly hadn’t expected it to anytime soon, let alone so easily.

It turned out that dating someone who made me laugh, made me feel safe, made me feel impossibly handsome, and also rode my dick like it was going out of style, improved a ton of things that made every day feel so similar to the last.

Never in a million years would I have thought I’d end up dating one of the students in my workshops, but that was exactly what happened. We spent three weekends of the month together, and it would have been four, but Olivia kept one weekend to do special events with her family, which I admired.

I’d heard a lot about her family, and I really wanted to meet them. But considering that we’d only been dating for six weeks, I understood it wasn’t the right time yet. I had a bit of a skewed perspective because every time I talked to my mom, she was asking when she could be introduced to my new “partner.”

At first, my mother had used the term “girlfriend” but it didn’t sit right with me. Possibly, because I was a thirty-seven-year-old man and the phrase didn’t feel serious enough for the emotions building inside me. Or, possibly, because it reminded me too much of high school when my mother would get excited anytime another teenage girl showed interest in me. Either way, Olivia seemed to agree with me, as she’d started calling me her ragazzo after the third date.

Which, by the way, had been even better than our second, and the second had been better than our first. Whether we went to the movies, a restaurant, a bowling alley or any other combination of events, we always had a great time.

Great didn’t even do it justice. When I was around Olivia, it was easier to forget everything that was weighing me down. Being around her also made me want to be better. I was going to the gym more consistently, seeing my mother more often, and working on my canoe more than once in a blue moon.

All of that in only six weeks. Probably too soon for me to have hauled out the word partner, but “the insanely beautiful and smart woman I’m going on weekly dates with and who broke my bed frame” didn’t quite roll off the tongue.

“I want to thank all of you for being a part of my workshop,” I said, standing at the front of my class. Although Olivia and I had a rule not to bring our relationship into the workshop, I loved seeing her an extra day of the week. She’d absolutely rocked her project. The only student who had done better was Amanda.

That was an odd pair if I’d ever seen one. Amanda was in her early twenties and spoke in a mix of Gen Z and Alpha slang terms that I only slightly understood because it reminded me of the densely clustered terms that the oldest members at the nursing home used, while Olivia spoke in a mix of academic-adjacent and millennial. Amanda always wore bright colors and usually pink, with Olivia favoring jewel tones and solids. The young woman had told me it was because she was born in summer and Olivia in autumn, or something like that, but Olivia’s birthday had been a week or two before the workshop started, so I didn’t get it.

“You truly have been one of the easiest groups I’ve ever had, and your questions have helped me put together even better binders for the next one. I owe all of you, so that was why I wanted to say thank you in return.”

I lifted the stack of pizza boxes I’d been hiding under my workstation with a particularly thick tablecloth.