The Halloween Surprise

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The Halloween Surprise Page 7

by Seth King


  Oh…

  Oh.

  So that describes the smirk on his face. His hole is probably the tightest thing I’ve ever felt. No wonder people were hitting on him tonight.

  I wrap my hands around the back of his ass as he starts taking me. He’ll take an inch, then stop, do a little shimmy, and then take me deeper. Sometimes he’ll pause and roll his hips in an entire circle, lighting up every nerve ending in my dick. Now, I am the one moaning – he has me at his beck and call. Everything I expected from his dance moves, he’s that good and more – ten times more. I mean, are his bones made of liquid or something? How did he learn to move like this?

  “How do you like it?” he asks soon. “First time jitters, or are you okay?”

  “No…words,” I say, riding my hands up his smooth body. “Keep going.”

  I lean in and suck on his neck, leaving a mark that everyone will see, because I want them to see. I want them to know I was here.

  He whines and starts moving in faster circles. He’ll stop in the middle of it and change direction, then ride up and down, and it’s more than I can bear. So I decide to take control again. I grab his hips and pound upward, getting deeper than ever. He inhales, then cries out again.

  “Oh, no, did I hurt you?” I ask, judging by the look on his face.

  “No…it just felt really good, and I’m trying not to cum…”

  “Wait, already?”

  “Harry. Come on. I’ve been fantasizing about this for months. I’ve been ready to blow since I sat on you.”

  “Well when you put it that way…”

  “Shut up.”

  I pull out, then plunge even deeper, my hands kneading the back of his ass from behind. I plant a kiss on his ear, neck, chest, nipple as I pound harder. He leans in and wraps his arms around my shoulders, holding on.

  We get into a rhythm. This lasts for five minutes or fifty minutes – suddenly time means nothing anymore. I want to get to know every inch of him, and forever wouldn’t be enough time with this hole, frankly.

  All along, his voice is a one-man chorus in my ear: “yes, oh, oh, right there…oh, that’s the spot…fuck…how’s it feel for you?” he asks, his voice pained, taking a break.

  At first I cannot speak. There just aren’t any words to say. Then I take a breath.

  “I feel very bad for Ashley,” I finally say, my voice sounding far away. Even thinking about her right now feels strange and foreign, like she existed in a past life. What is happening to me?

  “Why?”

  “Because this just blew her out of the water already, and I’m afraid her services won’t be needed for some time. Now get on your stomach, please.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I am going to fuck you, Joshua. You had control on top. Now it’s my turn.”

  He gets flat against the cushion, and I climb atop his back, on top of him like a plank. I want to be close to him, as close as I can possibly be. So I wrap my arms around him, pinning him down as I kiss his ears and neck.

  “Can you breathe?” I ask.

  “No, but for reasons unrelated to you being on top of me.”

  “Ha.”

  I pull up his hips a little, take another breath and slip in. He makes a different sound, one that sounds like a plea.

  Holy hell, he feels even tighter from behind…

  I try to mimic what he did, rolling my hips around, hitting him from different angles. I feel so close to him, so intimate, it’s suddenly like I’ve known him forever.

  “Give me your ear,” I grunt, and I suck on his earlobe as I pound in and out. He moans and groans and whines, and I love it. “Yeah?” I keep asking. “You like that, Joshua?”

  “You don’t even have to ask,” he whines, and then I stop and slow things down.

  I start to slide in and out at a snail’s pace, hearing him moan all the way. At random intervals I’ll pull out and then plunge back in, and I’ll feel his whole body shudder. The third time I do it, I feel his body tense up, and I know he’s about to blow. I am, too, but I don’t want this to be over yet.

  “Don’t cum yet,” I tell him.

  “Why? It’s so hard…and you’re so hot…”

  “Because I want to enjoy you. And this.”

  He turns his head to the side and sets his jaw. “Okay. But Harry?”

  “Yes, Joshua?”

  “Take me to your bed. And put the Batman mask back on.”

  Josh Nash

  After I slide the mask back onto his upper face, Harry takes my hand and leads me into his bedroom. I don’t even get to look around, I’m so desperate to do this. I’m so ready for him, I fall onto the bed on my back, then open my legs.

  “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he says, his eyes devouring me, and then he rests between my knees. “And I know missionary is your favorite position, so I’ll try to make it worth your while.”

  I feel my face go red. “How do you know that?”

  “Joshua,” he smirks. “I’m not the only loud one in this house.”

  I don’t even have time to be ashamed, because he is already pulling me closer.

  I take him in missionary, his chest against mine, my feet in the air, and what follows is more than sex. It’s just…art.

  It feels like sharing my body with him, in the best way possible, and partaking in the glory of his body, too – a reverie, to be cheesy. Every time he thrust into me, he throws paint on a canvas, Jackson Pollack. Every time I cry out, I’m singing like Celine Dion. It’s more than sex, more than passion, more than a reckless and dangerous hookup…

  All that aside, it’s just kind of beautiful.

  I lock my knees around him, secure my hands around his shoulders, and lightly bite his earlobe as he pounds into me. I don’t know if an hour passes, or ten minutes – time just melts together.

  And to answer the question I posed to myself in the car, about whether he could really be so good as to keep Ashley coming back for more again and again:

  Yes, he is.

  “I can’t believe…” he says breathlessly.

  “I know. Right down the hall…”

  “And we never knew…”

  After another impossible-to-measure amount of time, he suddenly goes still.

  “Joshua, I’m going to pull out and cum all over you. Is that okay?

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to feel you cum in me. In this position. I want to feel your cock jerk inside me.”

  “Oh, God…”

  As he starts to pound harder, I slide off his mask and look into his eyes. They roll back into his head.

  “Cannot…wait…to…cum…inside…your…body…”

  His body shudders, then stills. And then, groaning, he pumps an orgasm into his condom that must last for thirty seconds.

  At the end of it, I pump my cock twice and then cum all over my abdomen. He looks down in wonder, takes a shallow breath, then suddenly collapses against me.

  And suddenly I file away my new favorite sound: the sound of Harry Young climaxing into me.

  ~

  “How did I never know how good this could be?” he asks faintly after he rolls off me, still panting. “And that I could like it? Why did I think I was straight?”

  I just watch him, trying to figure out if this really happened or not. I look over and see his condom on the sheet, full of his semen.

  Yep. It happened, alright.

  “Well…” I say.

  “Yeah?”

  “You know you don’t have to be, like, just gay or straight, right?” I ask.

  “You know it’s a spectrum?”

  “Spectrum?”

  “Haven’t you ever heard of pansexuality?” I ask.

  “Pan-what?”

  “God, you’re sheltered. Pansexual – it means you could fall for anyone, no matter the body parts they bring to the equation. Personality is more important. Like, I know a man who never felt a thing for another male until he was sixty, and f
ell madly in love with his neighbor.”

  He looks off at nothing. “So what you’re saying is that someone can just meet you and…change everything for you?”

  “I mean…yeah, it happens, I guess. I’ve seen it.”

  “…Can it happen from a toilet?”

  I feel my face go white. “I swear, if you ever mention that again…”

  “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist,” he laughs, and he looks so beautiful I forgive him immediately. “I don’t give a damn, you’re human, everyone needs to use the restroom sometimes…”

  “Can we never talk about this, ever again, please?”

  He looks at me, then reaches up and twists a lock of my hair between his fingers.

  “Pumpkin,” he says.

  “What? The safe word? We were only going to use that if we crossed a line, you didn’t do anything that was-”

  “I did cross a line,” he interrupts. “I think I might like my roommate.”

  Harry Young

  We’ve moved over to avoid our wet spots, and now we’re all wrapped up in my sheets, which he said “smell expensive,” whatever that means. His chest is up against mine when his phone lights up.

  Jealousy flashes through me. Any text this late in the night could only mean one thing…

  The thing we just did.

  “Hey. Who’s texting you at this hour?”

  He tenses against me. “The dreaded ex, actually.”

  Anger pulses in my skull. For some reason I just really don’t like this, and I don’t know why. “What? Why?”

  “Apparently,” he sighs, “I still have his favorite shirt that was a birthday gift from his sister or something, and he wants it back.”

  Now, something else spreads through me – protectiveness. Joshua is a great guy with a great life. He doesn’t need some loser crawling back to him.

  I make a huffing sound. “Ha. He needs a shirt in the middle of the night?” I ask sarcastically. “I’m sure. This, my friend, is what you call an ass call. Sorry – booty call.”

  But he doesn’t laugh.

  “What?” I ask, and his muscles go loose against me.

  “Seriously, that’s not it. He left me. A month ago. For good.”

  I can see the love in his eyes. And the sadness, too.

  “What happened?” I ask soon. “I hate to ask, but I want to know.”

  He throws up his hands and exhales. “What happened? The closet happened. He decided he couldn’t…couldn’t ever be open. His background was very conservative, and his whole life was a secret. I got to the point where I couldn’t be in hiding with him anymore, and told him to wake the fuck up. But he decided he couldn’t lose his parents, instead, and it broke my fucking heart.”

  “You mean he went back into the closet?”

  He nods, his eyes a million miles away. “Not that he ever left it. He tried to keep our whole relationship secret. He was affectionate in private, but in public, it was like he barely knew me.”

  “That must’ve been…”

  “It was fucking awful. It kinda broke me for a second. Not just because he was leaving, but more so because…because I couldn’t save him. I tried so hard to open his mind and his eyes, but I just couldn’t get through. He was always a little paranoid about going to gay bars or being too PDA-ish with me in public, but that’s normal in the South, and so I figured it would fade. It didn’t. It got worse.”

  “Uh-oh…”

  “Yeah. His parents heard rumors and threatened to ban him from family holidays if he ever tried to bring a guy around, and that’s when I really knew it was bad. He started distancing himself, then walked away for good after our big discussion. Last I heard, he was ‘dating’ some girl, to please his parents. Ryan showed me an Instagram pic of them together, and it broke me again – his eyes were dead. Like a dead person’s. He was just…not alive anymore.”

  “That is…”

  “Tragique,” he says. “I know. Sorry. But anyway, I’m not stupid, I know I’m better off, and I know I can find something better. He says he misses me now. I missed myself more when we were together. And finally I feel like I’m getting back there. I know I sound so pathetic, like I’m delusional and fell in love with a typical asshole or whatever…but it was so much more complicated than that…”

  “I don’t think that at all. Nothing is ever perfect. Love can be real even when it’s cruel. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve better.”

  He starts to respond, then stops.

  I think about this for a long time. I can’t believe I didn’t notice how down he’s been, or try to talk to him about it. Maybe I really am self-absorbed, like Ashley once said. I always just thought I was oblivious. But Joshua was hurting right down the hall from me, and I never said a thing.

  And no wonder he rejected me at first – he just dealt with a guy who was in denial. Why would he have ever wanted to get wrapped up with someone like me, who wasn’t even on the journey yet?

  “And also…”

  “Yes?” he asks me.

  “Who would be able to leave you, in the first place? Especially for something so stupid?”

  “What…what do you mean?”

  “I mean that you are fun and carefree and interesting, and a breath of fresh air to be around. You know what? I have a prediction: he’ll be back. He’ll realize what he lost, and then tell his family to fuck off and crawl back to you. We all have to decide what terms we will live our lives under. I’m deciding right now, personally. He will get there. The only question will be whether you accept him or not, after all this?”

  He doesn’t look convinced. “I’m not so sure…”

  I shrug at him. “I am. You’re you. Anybody would be dumb not to come back.”

  A silent moment passes. But I meant everything I said. That’s why I said it. Joshua just has a presence about him. Sometimes, when he leaves the room, I swear I can still feel him in it. He just kind of sparkles.

  “So what are you going to say, anyway?” I ask. For some reason I can’t stop thinking about it. “If he came back right now, what would your response be?”

  His eyes drift away from me. “God, that’s so complicated…we have such a history together. He wasn’t all bad. I want to say, for sure, that I’d reject him. But I can’t honestly tell you that. I don’t know. It’s a very particular type of heartbreak, Harry. You’re not exactly breaking up because of your relationship, or your love you have for each other – you are breaking up because of dumb, outside, external influences. And I knew him for four years, there’s so much history there…ugh, it was so hard to just walk away from that. So it can be almost impossible to feel any type of closure or finality, you know?”

  “I don’t know, that’s the thing…”

  “God, I’m sorry, I keep forgetting. You’re straight. Or were, or whatever. But I’m just a big softie, too, in general. I’m really bad at loving people once, and then stopping. If I’m in, I’m in. And it’s hard to just turn off those feelings.”

  I feel myself scowl. He doesn’t need that in his life. I wish he would see it.

  But I let it go, and decide to just make a joke instead.

  “Joshua?”

  “Yes?”

  “If I were him, I would’ve already come back just for your blow job skills, alone. I mean, wow…and not even mentioning your hips…”

  And finally, for the first time since I mentioned the whole thing, Joshua laughs.

  And it feels like someone turned on a light switch inside my chest.

  “Harry?” he asks soon. “Did you love Ashley?”

  “No,” I say quickly. “At first she made it clear our situation was just about sex, but then things got complicated. Well, on my end, at least. I started to…like her, but she lied a lot.”

  “How?”

  “She would get texts from other guys all the time, which was her business, obviously. No shame in that game. But whenever I’d ask, her stories wouldn’t add up, and it became clear she was hid
ing things and deflecting. So I protected myself by walling her off. I can’t love someone I don’t trust.”

  “Interesting…”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Just wondering…”

  The thought of him potentially being jealous over me makes me feel…well, sexy, in an animalistic sort of way.

  “Joshua?” I ask again, lower this time.

  “Yes?”

  “Are you still as horny as I am?”

  “…Yes, actually.”

  “Okay. Question. I hear a vibrating sound from the bathroom sometimes. What is it?”

  He goes so red, he’s almost purple. “It’s…my vibrator. Sorry, I’ve been single. I didn’t know it was that loud.”

  “No problem. I want to see you use it.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Absolutely. I’m going to honor the rule you came up with. But if I only get one night with you like this, I’m utilizing every second I get.”

  He disappears and returns with a black toy. It’s thick at the base, and pointed and thinner and curved at the end.

  And I cannot wait to see it inside him.

  Joshua opens his legs beside me, his back against the pillows. I kiss him as he lubes it up and holds it against his hole.

  “Ahhhh,” he says, turning it on and pressing it inside himself.

  “Damn, that looks good,” I say, rubbing his nipples. “We could have a lot of fun with this…”

  And then I take the base into my hands and start fucking him with it.

  “Whaaa,” he says, leaning back, as his abs contract.

  “What does it feel like?” I ask.

  “It’s a prostate toy. It hits your prostate. The male G-spot. So…pretty good. You felt better, though.”

  “You’ll get it again soon enough. Let me do this, though. I’m fascinated.”

  I slide it in an inch. Then another inch.

  “You like that?” I ask him, watching the ecstasy on his face.

  “You could say that…”

  “Good, then. I’m going to fuck you harder with it.”

  When I get it in all the way to the base of the toy, I take my own cock with one hand and jack myself, fucking him with the other hand. He looks over at me, his eyes hooded, and wraps an arm around my shoulder. We both lean back, the energy overpowering us both…

 

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