Flame

by J. P. Scott

  This morning there was a note on the door, “Stop by at the end of the day and we can look at the progress and chat about next steps. J.C.”

  After some initial check-ins on his work, I had kept my distance. He seemed to be keeping busy and my looks up the hill showed he was active. Many of the repairs were exterior, so it was easy to see him working and not slacking off.

  Things were slow in the office. Early next week there would be a flurry of activity as a few cabins cleared out and I would need to get them ready for new arrivals. I hoped Jonathan could take care of some of the to-do items during those days. It would be an aggressive pace, but he seemed willing to put in long days.

  Then a thought hit me that made my heart flutter. Maybe I could treat Jonathan for his hard work. I was stocked up on beer and there some steaks in the fridge. Could I handle just hanging out for a bit and getting to know him? Or would the temptation be too much? The hope would be for the former. Would Jonathan misread my intentions? And if I ended up bending him over furniture in the cabin and having my way with him, was it really that bad? I was finding it less and less convincing that it would be a bad thing.

  Chapter Ten

  I tried to keep myself busy for the remainder of the day, but I had nothing of major importance or scale to keep me occupied. It must be lulls like this that got George doing the daily puzzles in the newspaper. I needed something to focus on while I waited for the end of the day to come.

  When it was time to close the office, my stomach got even more butterflies in anticipation of seeing Jonathan. I had decided to keep it more casual and lead only with the offer to have a couple drinks to end the day. The offer of dinner could come later, if it felt right. I grabbed the case of beers from the fridge and then decided I needed something extra to calm my nerves. I found the bottle of tequila I had purchased at the beginning of the summer and took a shot.

  “You can do this, Josh. Just be professional.”

  I walked up to the cabin at a brisk pace and found the front door open and music coming from inside. Jonathan seemed to like 90’s alternative rock as his jams.

  The cabins had an open concept living room, kitchen, and dining room. He was not doing any work here. I set the beer on the counter and looked around. He had been doing some repairs to the interior walls and ceilings that had hold or water damage. He must be doing the same in the bedroom. I walked to the door and started to enter, “Hey, Jonathan, I--.” Before I could get out any more, I made contact with the nightstand that had been moved away from its normal home against the wall and to just in front of the doorway. The motion forward continued and I stumbled towards the bed, face first.

  “Whoa! Careful!” Jonathan dropped the sanding block and paper he was holding to smooth out the patch he made in the drywall. He reached to help pull me back upright.

  “Thanks. I was not expecting that to be right there.”

  Once again, I found myself face to face with Jonathan, inches separating us. I had the instant desire to make it a much smaller distance. He pulled down the mask that covered his face and nose. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting company. I would have warned you. It was easier to get to the wall with the furniture moved.”

  “No, it’s okay. I should know to be more careful around where someone is working.”

  When I bumped into the night stand, the bottom drawer had popped open. We both saw that it was open and reached to put everything back as it should be. We both paused as we saw the contents of the draw and registered what it contained.

  “Wow…who was staying here? Clearly, a gay man.”

  I began laughing. Alex had stored his sex toys in this drawer. At quick glance, I saw two dildos, a riding crop, and several black nylon bags holding who knows what. I had no idea Alex had an interest in playing with toys. He seemed kind of vanilla on the surface. When we had messed around, I knew was experienced and had been especially willing to get down to business. Cody must know about this drawer as well. What was he into? Who had taken the large dildo? Or had they both?

  I was instantly hard as I pictured Alex and Cody together, naked, and one working the long phallus into the other. Did they wince and ask for it to go slower? Or did they ask for it deeper, faster, and harder?

  Jonathan was looking through the other items in the bags. He peeked in the top, giggled, and moved on to the next.

  “Come on. This isn’t our stuff. We shouldn’t be going through it.”

  Jonathan rolled his eyes, “If this isn’t a sign that we should be fucking, I don’t what is. Jerking off just isn’t cutting it for me.” We had both been trying to deal with our desire with the same remedy. Neither of us was satisfied. My heart fluttered at the thought that Jonathan had been thinking about me as much as I had about him.

  He pulled out cuffs and swung one back and forth as if it were part of a grandfather clock. “These could be fun.”

  “So, you want me to strap you to the bed?” Each set of cuffs had a fur-lined band to go around the wrist. The other end had long cords for attached to bed posts or any other solid piece of furniture or structure.

  “I think you’re the one who is getting tied up.”

  Not only was Jonathan the aggressor with flirting and innuendo, but he also liked dominating in the bedroom. Fact was, so did I. How could we reconcile that? Was he an aggressive and dominating bottom? That could be a lot of fun—maybe what I had been looking for my entire life. But what if we were both tops? Could we still find a way to satisfy our desires? Would kissing and a blowjob be enough? A lot of these toys in the drawer would be going to waste.

  It had been years since I had bottomed. The feeling of being in a tight ass was too intoxicating. Letting someone in me had never been as appealing.

  “You just need to meet the right top,” everyone said. I had tried enough tops to know that the right top was hard to find. I would rather be the right top and have the bottoms line up.

  I looked at Jonathan and his sexy smile. He blue eyes stared right into me and I wanted to dive into them and feel the icy coolness their color promised. Or were they more the color of a blue flame, searing hot. Could he be the perfect top, if I let him?

  Jonathan reached up with his free hand and touched my cheek. “I won’t hurt you. There’s no need to be scared.”

  I shivered, “I’m not scared.”

  “Well, I don’t believe for a second that you don’t want it.” He leaned closer, his cheek close to mine and his mouth near my ear. He lowered his breath to a whisper and I felt his heat. “Give me a chance to drive you crazy.”

  I wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him close. His crotch pressed against my leg. He was as hard as me. I asked him, “What are you afraid of?”

  He arched an eyebrow, “Coming too soon.”

  I laughed. At least he did not take everything too seriously. We locked eyes again and leaned in close. Our lips touched lightly, then the longing erupted and we both held onto the back of each other’s head, pulling each other closer and kissing hard. He pushed his tongue into my mouth and I accepted it, sucking it as far in as it could go.

  We moved our hands downward to grope and pull anywhere and everywhere. His fingers found my zipper and slid it down, popped open the top button, and reached in to grab my cock. The only thing between his flesh and mine were the cotton boxers, wet with precum.

  Jonathan smelled like sweat from a day’s work mixed with the scent from the dust from the drywall patches. It was driving me out of my mind—more than any cologne ever had. This was a man’s smell. A hard-working man that probably could pass for straight to most people. But he was gay and wanted and needed the feel of another man.

  We parted and looked at each other. If I had ever seen a man that I wanted more or that wanted me so intensely, I did not know. The question of top and bottom seemed a dumb social construct that ignored true honest and intense desire. I wanted to explore with him and find what worked for both of us. To find the sex that was ours and ours alone.

&nbs
p; I stepped out of my shoes and kicked them to the side. I pushed my jeans and boxers down the rest of the way and stepped out. My cock bobbed and jutted out in front of me. I started to pull up my t-shirt.

  “Slowly,” Jonathan said. He had already undressed me in his mind countless times and seemed to be comparing the imagined versus the real thing. His smile grew bigger and filled with more hunger as I revealed more inches of flesh. When the shirt made it over my head, he pointed to the bed. I sat down, scooted back, and turned so my head was on the pillow. “Let’s put these on.” He took one of the cuffs and put it around my left wrist, raising the arm out to the side of my head, hand out near the bed post. “I promise, I won’t hurt you. You are in control. Just tell me to stop, if you need me to.”

  Holy fuck! Was I letting him tie me up? Could I really tell him to stop at any time? What was the line I did not want him to cross? I know when things get heated, I used my brain less and the beast inside took over. That beast wanted nothing else to do but fuck and was hard to control. Was Jonathan that much better at controlling himself?

  He finished tying the left side and circled the bed to the right, taking off his own shirt as he walked. He was surprisingly fit for his age. His skin was tanned and taught. The hair on his pecs was trimmed close and was already white. I wanted to rub my face all over him, breathing in his scent, licking his nipples and the spaces between his abs. It took no encouragement to get my right arm and hand in place. He added the cuff and tied me to the bed. “Let me know if that’s too tight.”

  He walked back to the nightstand and the open drawer. He pulled out the riding crop and inspected it, slapping the square end into the palm of his hand. He looked back at me. “There might a little sting, but I’ll be gentle.”

  Jonathan stood at the side of the bed and reached out his hand with the riding crop. The end touched my toes. He moved the tip down the top of my foot, then up my leg. Was he going to slap me with it? What would it feel like? Would it hurt? Or would I enjoy it? He stroked up and down my leg, tracing the edges of my muscles. He looked at me and winked. He moved up past my knee and to the fleshy part of my thigh. He stroked again, but in smaller distances. Finally, he stopped and tapped the leather square against my skin and it made a small pop. No pain; just a tease. My cock throbbed in response, and I felt precum starting to drip down my head. I did not know what this was, but I did not want it to stop.

  “Is this okay?”

  I nodded. The taps increased in force. The leather making a louder smack as it hit. There was a slight sting, but it was not the pain I had expected.

  “Harder?”

  I nodded again.

  He smacked hard. The sting made my leg twitch. I grinned. I like it, and I wanted more.

  Jonathan returned to the night stand, this time opening the top drawer. He pulled out a bottle of silicone lube and tossed it on the bed next to me. Then he grabbed a small, dark-glassed bottle. Poppers. He shook it, twisted the cap off, and hold it to his nose. He stepped next to me, held the bottle under my left nostril, pinching my right closed with his other finger. I inhaled as if I was in a dark corner of a leather bar about to get sucked off or fuck a hot young guy dressed in boots and a jock strap—I did not usually use poppers at home. Instantly, my brain when fuzzy as the fumes created a buzz.

  The riding crop was next to me on the bed, and Jonathan picked it up. He rubbed the spot where he had previously slapped, and the rubbing soothed a little. He moved the crop up the leg until he got to my crotch and placed the square flat against my balls. “How about here?”

  “I, I..fuck.” I could not say anything. I did not know if I would like it. Slapping balls sound like it would hurt more than a slap on the leg. But the thought quickened my heart and from deep within I felt the urge to scream, “Yes!”

  “I’ll be gentle. I promise.”

  I nodded and he began to lightly tap. I clenched and my balls tightened. “More,” I whispered.

  The tapping continued, but lightly. He sat down on the bed, repositioning to choke up on the handle of the crop. He tapped again and I arched my back. I heard him open the lube and felt cool gel hit the top of my cock. With his free hand, he grabbed my cock and stroked down, spreading the lube. Then he pulled back up. He continued to tap my balls with the riding crop which made my cock pulse in his hand as he stroked.

  “Oh, god.” The taps on the balls heightened the feeling in my cock as he stroked.

  In a weird way it felt like I was teenager, discovering my body for the first time and the sensations it could feel.

  He leaned over to kiss me, now only able to stroke. As his lips connected with mine, I orgasmed. He continued to kiss me as I shook and writhed. He continued to stroke as my cock spewed the last of my cum and began to soften.

  Finally, he stood and collected the poppers, lube and riding crop. He returned them to the night stand and came back to sit next to me on the bed. “Good?”

  “Yes. Oh, my god!”

  He smiled and winked. “I’ll untie these and then I’m going to take a shower.”

  “Wait, we haven’t taken care of you.”

  He took his hand and cupped my balls, massaging the spot he had been spanking. Then with two fingers, he moved down my taint to my hole. He did a circle but did not push in. “When I get in here, then I’ll be taken care of. You just let me know when you’re ready.”

  Chapter Eleven

  I sat on the porch of the cabin smoking and drinking my second beer. After cleaning myself up and redressing, I slammed one beer as I tried to process what had just happened. Never before had I let a man dominate me like that. Every second had been an anticipation of what he could do with that riding crop. Would he just trace lines on my body or give it a slap? Would it be gentle or hard? Had he held back or was that as far as she wanted to take it? If he whipped harder, would I enjoy it, or would I ask him to stop?

  Even the second beer had not been able to settle me down. I went back inside and opened a third. I heard the water in the shower and Jonathan singing to himself. I smiled. He was damn sexy.

  Sexy—and desperate me for me. Determined to take my ass and make it his.

  There has been offers before from tops who wanted to fuck me. Except for early on in my experimentation, I turned those offers down. Never had I even wanted a repeat with the same guy if he topped me. With Jonathan, it was now all I could think about doing.

  The screen door opened and Jonathan stepped out in a towel. He grinned and shrugged, “I forgot I didn’t have any clean clothes with me.” He hurried down the steps and around to the side of the cabin where his truck and camper were parked. I heard the camper door open and slam shut once he was inside. How I wished he had dropped the towel and let me see him and his cock dangling. He was withholding the pleasure of even seeing him until I gave him what he wanted.

  Jonathan rejoined me wearing black gym shorts, sneakers, and a white tank top. His shoulders, chest, and arms looked even more tan with the contrast with the clean white.

  “There’s beer inside. You’ve definitely earned a drink.”

  He shook his head, “No, I’m good.”

  “I have harder stuff down at the house if you would rather.”

  He shook his head again.

  I felt sheepish now, like I was trying to push this too far. It felt like when a trick wanted to say over and I could only give loud and clear signals that it was nothing more than just sex. Was Jonathan sending me signals that I needed to be on my way? The sex was over and I should head back to my place? That was a sharp change from how he acted before his shower.

  “I’m not drinking tonight. But I appreciate the offer.” He shifted in the chair next to me. “I actually have to run down to Payson tonight.”

  He had plans. That’s why his mood had changed. “Oh, I didn’t realize.”

  Jonathan shrugged. “It’s kind of a standing commitment.”

  “Of course. Don’t let me keep you. I just…” I trailed off, not sure I should
say more.

  “You thought what?”

  “Well, before…before that happened. I came up here to thank you.” I blushed. I had done more than just thank him. “You’ve been working hard. I thought some beers, maybe grill some steaks….”

  He stood up and stood next to my chair. He reached down and pulled my face up to look at him. “I love that. If I didn’t have to go, I would think of nothing better than to hang out with you tonight.”

  His mood had nothing to do with me. He had a legitimate reason to be ending our time together. “What are you doing in Payson?”

  Jonathan’s smile faded, “Mind if we don’t get into it? But it is important that I go. I’ll need to drive down a couple more times this weekend.”

  “Why drive back and forth? Is there a place you can park for the night? You’ve got your own hotel on wheels.”

  “I might. We will see if I can find something and how I feel later. But it’s much quieter up here. And sometimes I can see a hot guy walking around in his room shirtless.”

  I wanted to pepper him with questions. He was being mysterious, but I did not pick up on any malintent. He had a private matter to care of. I could respect that. He was free to do whatever he wanted when he was not on the clock. After one sexual encounter, I had no right to know more.

  “We can hang out again soon. We’ve only just begun exploring.”

  I grinned, suddenly wanted to make him squirm and rethink his choice. “Don’t keep me waiting too long. Any decision to bottom is likely going to be a small window of opportunity.”

  He bent down and kissed me, a gentle yet commanding kiss. “You don’t know how convincing I can be. Or how patient.”

  He could have asked for it right then and I would not have been able to stop myself from saying, “Yes.”

  “I have to get on the road. I’m a little behind schedule,” he winked.

  He left me there with a new cigarette and the rest of my beer. Getting the truck and camper disconnected from the electric and water took a quick minute. Soon, he was pulling away, headed towards the setting sun. I took in the moment. Sadness and longing filled me as I watch the truck disappear, but there was also a flutter of hope that I would see that truck pull back in at any moment.