Ilhan straightened his shoulders, no longer looking uncomfortable, but rather excited. “I made a raspberry and white chocolate cake earlier today. Shall I go and fetch it for after?”
“Get outta here! You baked that? Bring that cake down here!” John’s eyes sparkled as he teased Ilhan.
Ilhan turned pink, but stood up, grinning. He left John’s apartment hurriedly after a poor imitation of Arnold Schwarzenegger’s famous quote, “I’ll be back.”
John bit his lip to stop his laughter breaking out. He called out after him, “That was terrible, man. If Arnie heard you, he’d throw you out the window.”
He warmed up the lasagne in the microwave and brought a plate and cutlery from the kitchen along with his own plate. He placed a generous slice of the lasagne on Ilhan’s plate, and tried to remember how to pronounce his name. “Illhaan… Or was it Elhun?”
Ilhan came through the door. “It’s me! I’ve got the cake. Ta-daa!” He held his cake as if he was making a sacred offering, which made John shake his head and laugh. He marvelled how cute Ilhan looked when he was being playful. John was glad Ilhan appeared more at ease around him.
“Put it over by the kettle. Thanks for bringing it. You want beer or wine? I’ve both.”
“Either is fine. I'm easy.” He snorted at his own double entendre.
“Did you just snort?” John laughed, which made Ilhan turn bright red.
“I can’t help myself. I sometimes snort like a piglet. Yeah. I refuse to admit aloud that I sound like a pig. Piglet sounds cuter,” Ilhan replied while nodding his head, in an attempt to convince John he was right.
John had never noticed how Ilhan waved his arms about and made faces as he spoke, until now. Every time Ilhan said something exciting, he’d gesture with his hands, make faces or roll his eyes to add more meaning to what he’d said.
How come I’ve never noticed how expressive he is? This guy is playful and smells deliciously sexy. Whatever you’re using, my man, I just want to eat you up right now.
John lusted after Ilhan, but outwardly he continued to play the perfect host.
They sat down on the sofa with their plates on their laps, giving each other furtive looks every now and then. Whenever their eyes caught the other’s, they smiled, and looked sheepish before going back to eating.
After dinner, Ilhan helped John to take the dishes into the kitchen and tried to do the washing up, but John stopped him. “No need to do that. Let’s enjoy the wine in the lounge.”
As the news finished, both of them stopped watching TV. John stood up and said, “Is it okay if I play some music?”
“Sure. Why not. I want to know what kind of music you listen to.
John felt the other man’s gaze on him as he walked to his iPod. He loved Frank Sinatra’s voice and wanted to enjoy the wine, and company with his songs.
“I don’t suppose you like Frank Sinatra?” he asked.
“Actually, I do,” said Ilhan with a smile and lifted his glass as if he’d saluted.
John turned the music on and they sat back on the well-loved sofa again.
When John turned toward Ilhan, Ilhan stammered, “Th-thank you for asking me to dinner.”
“You’re welcome, again,” John drawled slowly. He sat back facing Ilhan with his arms folded and legs resting comfortably under the coffee table. The way Ilhan blushed on and off throughout the dinner fascinated John. This was new to him. He didn’t remember meeting another man who blushed so often. He'd thought Ilhan was a party animal, but here he was, acting shy and awkward.
“Are you blushing or are you enjoying the wine too much?” he asked with a grin.
When Ilhan turned even redder, John knew the answer.
“I didn’t even finish my first glass of wine, so I guess I’m blushing...again,” Ilhan answered, looking into his wine glass.
“Why?” John eyed Ilhan’s every movement.
“Dunno,” Ilhan answered and cleared his throat, then looked at John. “I have a tendency to blush for no reason. Anyway, let’s talk about your plans for the weekend.”
John almost grinned when Ilhan tried to change the topic, but he was having none of it.
“Nothing much. How about you?” He watched Ilhan fidget and wring his hands.
Ilhan cleared his throat again. “I might go to Connections for a drink tomorrow.”
John nodded his head in response to Ilhan’s comment and smiled faintly.
“Weekends are for the gay crowd in that bar, you know that, don’t you?” John peered at the blushing man. As he waited for Ilhan’s response, a tingle passed through the lower part of his body, particularly his crotch area.
“Yeah, I do. That's why I'm going tomorrow,” Ilhan answered with his eyes back on his wine glass again.
With slow deliberation, John replied, “I might go there tomorrow too. I normally go there on Sundays, but Saturdays are fine too.”
Ilhan was no longer staring at his glass, but grinned at John.
“Maybe we'll see each other than, hey?”
John was happy to play the game, and responded with a grin, “Maybe.”
Ilhan turned an even deeper shade of red.
“You're blushing again,” he teased.
“Please ignore my colorful face. It's so embarrassing!” Ilhan practically whined while his hands fanned his face.
John laughed, finding Ilhan rather adorable.
“I can’t ignore something so cute,” John quipped.
Ilhan took a deep breath as if to calm himself and almost squeaked, “Would you like to come to the bar with me tomorrow?” He seemed to hold his breath, waiting for John’s response.
The way he looked, made John’s heart almost melt. How cute are you and I’ve never noticed this!
“Are you asking me out, Elhaan?” John asked quietly with a gentle smile on his face, grinning wider when Ilhan laughed again with his soft snorts.
“My name isn’t pronounced 'Elhaan.' It’s more like 'Elhan.' Try it now.”
“Ilhaan,” John purred.
“No! No! This will not do! I refuse to date a guy who can’t even say my name properly!” Ilhan giggled and then froze when he realized what he’d just said.
“Oh! We’re dating now, are we?” John asked him playfully, eager to tease the blushing man more. “I don’t remember being asked.”
Ilhan looked at John with a suddenly serious look on his face. “Can I take you out for a date, please? I really am sorry for rattling you since I moved here. I just wanted to catch your attention and somehow every attempt turned into a disaster.”
John felt pleasantly surprised at what Ilhan was saying, and why he’d acted the way he had in the recent months.
“You mean, you were a brat all these months because you found me attractive? Why didn’t you just ask me, instead of acting like a little shit?” he asked, half seriously and half playfully.
Ilhan shook his head and looked down. “Look at you. You're handsome, confident and independent. There’s not a single person here who doesn’t like you. Me? I'm the scrawny geek who tried to impress you by throwing parties to look cool and instead created a mess of everything. In addition, have you noticed my big ears, and crooked goofy teeth? I have no meat on me either. Plus, guys run away from me when they realize I want a serious relationship, not just a quick hook-up.”
As he spoke, he picked at his nails, which warmed John’s heart because he saw how nervous he was. He leaned forward and grabbed Ilhan’s hands to stop him from hurting himself. Ilhan stilled, but his eyes remained focused on his hands, and John tightened his grip gently. “Look at me.”
Ilhan lifted his head up to look at John. As John pulled him closer, Ilhan’s breath hitched. John cradled Ilhan's face in his hands. “I find you attractive. I like your ears and your so called goofy teeth, cute too. Yeah, you are slim, but that appeals to me too. You’d fit in my arms and that’s very sexy to me... Let me tell you something, mister. You have one gorgeous arse. As for not doing casual ho
ok-ups, I can get on board with that.”
When he’d finished whispering these words, Ilhan’s breath hitched and his eyes widened. He didn’t move, keeping his gaze locked on John's. The older man accepted the sexy Turk’s response as permission and gently pressed his lips against Ilhan’s.
When the song changed to “My Funny Valentine,” Ilhan sighed and melted in his arms. As Ilhan opened his mouth, John slipped his tongue between his lips.
This was the moment he'd dreamt of for months. Finally the man he had the hots for, since the moment he’d first seen him pruning the roses, was kissing him. When Ilhan’s tongue touched his tentatively, John groaned and lifted his hands to hold the other man’s cheeks. He loved Ilhan’s clean, sweet, almost fruity scent. Whatever the shampoo and aftershave lotion he uses, I’ll make sure he never changes the brand.
“We shall date, but I’m taking you out to a nice restaurant where I’ll be able to watch you eating, cos I loved the way you licked the sauce off your lips this evening. Fuck, you have the sexiest mouth. Baby, I don’t want to wait till tomorrow to taste your lips again.” John’s voice sounded gravelly as he pulled Ilhan into his arms and leaned back against the couch. He hugged the sinewy body tighter as his tongue demanded, persuaded, and wooed the other man’s lips into submission.
Ilhan's tongue gently caressing his mouth sent shivers up and down John's body, and his breath hitched. He tightened his arms around the slender man and gently rocked his hips against him. His burgeoning cock rubbed gently over Ilhan's hard shaft through their pants, and the younger man groaned against his mouth. Hearing Ilhan's groan was one of the biggest turn-ons for John. He dragged his hands to Ilhan's bubble butt to squeeze them.
“You turn me on so much,” John whispered against Ilhan's ear as Ilhan humped his crotch. John tightened his hold and moved his hips in sync with Ilhan’s.
He was getting turned on, too much, too fast, and lifted Ilhan's head to look into his eyes. “Fuck, you feel good,” he whispered. He watched Ilhan's eyes turn a darker shade from arousal. John growled and brought his lips to Ilhan's neck. He took a deep breath, inhaling the musky aftershave lotion, and his mouth watered.
He licked his neck, but it quickly turned into deep sucking. John didn’t want to fight against his desire to mark him. He felt sudden jealousy and didn’t want anyone touching Ilhan from now on. No one but him would hold Ilhan like this. Ilhan liked being bitten around his neck, because he moaned and rocked his hips faster against John's. He felt intoxicated by those sexy whimpers and groans. Ilhan grabbed John's shoulders as if he’d drown if he didn’t hold on tight enough.
Even though John didn’t want things to stop, he knew it was too fast. “Stop, before I take you to my bed...coffee...? Yes? We shall have coffee,” he whispered against Ilhan's neck, pushing him back.
“Some coffee, and taste your cake. Fuck. You made me so hard.” His voice was gravelly.
Ilhan ignored John and tried to kiss him again.
John let him for a while, then said, “You brat. I can't resist you... Hmm...get off. We’re not going to move too fast.”
Ilhan lifted his head and looked into John's eyes. “I still can't believe I’m here in your arms and you’re having your wicked ways with me.” He wiggling his eyebrows playfully, rubbing his crotch to point out John's arousal.
John tilted his head back and laughed. He smacked Ilhan's arse. “Get up, you minx, and I’m not having my wicked ways with you. If I was, you’d know all about it and more. Let me make that coffee. Geez, I want to taste your cake.”
“Okay. Okay. I’m getting up.” Ilhan giggled as John tickled his sides.
“You sit, I’ll make the coffee. Milk and sugar?” John asked while he adjusted his crotch to find a less constricting position, which was proving hard.
“Milk with one sugar please. Can I check your bookshelf, please?”
“Go for it,” John responded from the kitchen.
“I like your choice in books. I’m into supernatural horror too,” Ilhan almost shouted with enthusiasm. “Have you read Graham Masterton's books? I think his stories are the scariest, yet I can’t put them down. Let me know if you want to try one, cos I have all of his horror stories.”
He continued scanning the book titles. “Dude, you like Sara York too! I love her “‘A Southern Thing’” series too! Right now, I’m reading ‘Billy,’ the last story “”in the series. You have taste, man. Oh. You read Nya Rawlyns’ stories too. I have her “‘Bad Boyfriends’” series. Each story in the series is full of drama and suspense. I like that.”
“We sound like those old ladies who go to evening book clubs to drink coffee and talk about books,” John said slowly, standing right behind Ilhan, holding mugs of coffee. Man, he looks so sexy on his hands and knees like that. John leered at Ilhan’s bum while holding the guy’s coffee.
“Come on up here. Try the coffee. See whether it has enough sugar for you. I'll bring your cake.”
John was a bloke's bloke, so he cut the cake into large slices and placed them on small chipped dessert plates. He bit into his slice with gusto as he sat down beside Ilhan.
“Mmm. This is delicious! You can bring your cake anytime to my place, man. This tastes as good as the ones I buy from the local bakery.”
Ilhan grinned as he bit into his slice, imitating John. “I love baking and cooking. You're welcome to pop in and try my cooking. Just so you know, I can only cook Turkish food at the moment, all right?”
“That's fine by me. Any food that I don’t have to cook is welcome. I have a limited repertoire in the kitchen. Yeah… So, feel free to introduce me to your national cuisine, man. But not tomorrow cos I’m taking you out. Like Indian?”
“I love Indian! Cooking’s my second hobby. My first choice of relaxation is reading.” Ilhan smiled at John, while he nibbled his cake.
“Me too. I love reading, eating and listening to soft jazz,” John added as he scraped his small plate to pick up cake crumbs.
“Do you swim? I love swimming…well...I do more doggie paddling than swimming.” Ilhan winked at John.
“I won several championships when I was a kid. I think I can still swim. We should try it one day,” John suggested as he put his plate back on the coffee table.
“I'd like that. I'd like to get to know you more, actually,” Ilhan responded with his eyes on his nails again. He quickly lifted his face to look at John's.
John gently held his hands and said, “Me too.”
Ilhan’s breath hitched when John leaned forward and brought his lips close to his. When John gently prodded his mouth with his tongue, Ilhan opened to let him in. John held on to Ilhan’s hands until their tongue swirled around each other. He let go of the other man’s hands and feathered his fingers around Ilhan’s neck to take more charge. Ilhan’s lips were firm and demanding. John liked that…a lot.
“Okay... I’m going now before I forget myself,” Ilhan whispered, and then appeared to change his mind, leaning forward and kissing John. By the time, he stood up, Ilhan looked more dazed, and John shivered.
“Let me know what time dinner is tomorrow.” Ilhan sounded breathless.
“I certainly shall,” John reassured him and stood up to follow.
When Ilhan reached the door, he stood aside for John to open it. He looked at John with wide eyes. “Good night.”
“Good night, Ilhan. Nah. This won’t cut it for me. One more time.” John Pulled him closer and kissed him again before Ilhan left.
CHAPTER FOUR - Ilhan
“Sometimes, it is okay to trot.” Ilhan
Ilhan didn’t think he walked to the elevator, but instead trotted with a big grin on his face. As soon as he reached his flat and closed his door, he leaned against it. He rested his hand on his erection, closed his eyes and recalled what had happened downstairs. I can’t believe my luck. I went to his place to make peace. Not only did I, but I got to make out with his Sir Yumminess.
Ilhan grinned and squeezed his cock one more time
before he took off his shirt and walked to his bedroom. His raging hard-on needed urgent love and he didn’t want to wait anymore. This was his home and he was free to indulge himself in his fantasies. I still can’t believe what happened. Fuck! I’m so excited.
He unbuttoned his tight jeans to take them off, but it wasn't easy with his erection. After wiggling his hips several times while trying to pull down his jeans and cotton stretch trunks, he pushed the lot away from his feet. He gave a deep sigh and his dick seemed relieved too, cos it got even harder. I wonder sometimes why I bother with these tight pants.
He practically jumped onto his bed and lay there with the biggest possible grin on his face. As he stared at the ceiling, he touched his arousal and thought of John. He visualized him taking control on the couch, and felt his dick twitch and jerk in enthusiasm. He opened his legs wider and gently rolled his balls with one hand and stroked his cock slowly with the other. He liked slow moves and gentle touches as if he had all the time in the world. He fantasized it was John cupping his balls and stroking his cock. Ilhan closed his eyes to totally focus on his fantasy of John playing with him.
He imagined John thrusting his tongue into his mouth assertively and mimicking how he’d love to fuck Ilhan. The image was so vivid in his head, he even saw himself wrapping his lips around John’s tongue as if he was sucking his dick. The musky smell of John’s cock even felt real, and he whimpered, stroking himself faster. His hips moved as if he was responding to John fucking him. As he rocked his hips and stroked himself, Ilhan licked his lips, biting his lower lip as if it was John nibbling him. He was so turned on, his cock leaked precum into his hand, pretending it was John’s hand squeezing him. That’s it, John. Fuck me really hard. Yeah, I’m coming.
Ilhan groaned and shook, feeling every bit of his orgasm take hold of his body. As he sprayed all over his hand and balls, he opened his legs wider, digging his heels deeper into the mattress. “John.” He groaned.
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