Mason's Run

by Mellanie Rourke

  I saw Mason’s brain working and making the connection. “The bacon grease?”

  “Yep,” I acknowledged. “I’ve seen a therapist for PTSD but haven’t been going lately. Nothing seems to really help. I’ve tried a number of different medications but haven’t found a good combination yet. Sometimes I have nightmares and I have a hard time working a normal schedule,” I said. “I want to go back to being a medic, most likely a paramedic or rescue worker around here, but right now, I can’t. I can’t take the risk that I’ll freeze up when someone’s life is in my hands. Plus, I still have a way to go before I will be physically ready. Physical therapy is no joke. It took a long time, and lots of rehab just to get me walking again. I’ve kind of taken a break from rehab. Again, the whole ‘tired of being sick’ thing. I still use a cane every now and again when I’ve got a long distance to go, or when my hip is being especially difficult. Cold weather is a bitch,” I said ruefully.

  “I’m so sorry, Lee,” he whispered, as he looked up at me.

  “Thanks,” I said, my voice feeling thick and full of unshed tears. “‘It is what it is,’ as Mack would say,” I sighed. “I always hated that saying,” I muttered.

  His hands reached up and cupped my face. We sat there, eyes locked on each other for several moments. God, he was beautiful. His curly black hair was begging to be pushed off his face. His blue eyes were just stunning, his lips were full and pink. I wanted so desperately to kiss him again, to wash away the look of pain and sadness that lingered in his eyes. We’d both experience major losses in our lives. I’d lost the man I'd thought would be my future, and he’d lost everyone who should have loved, cherished and protected him in the past.

  “Mason—” I started, groaning as he shifted slightly, and I realized my cock had taken these few minutes to wake up again. I felt the moment Mason realized it, too, because he froze for just a second, then a slow, mischievous smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

  “Lee—” he answered back, also groaning. I glanced at his lithe body laid out on the couch and was appropriately gratified to notice that his jeans seemed to be having trouble containing his cock as well.

  I looked down at him and spoke. “Mason, I want to kiss you again.”

  I waited expectantly, determined this time not to ruin anything by rushing into it. A sigh of relief escaped me when he said, “Me, too. You, I mean. I want to kiss you... again.” Another pretty, pink blush appeared on his cheeks as he babbled and struggled to form words.

  I leaned forward and brushed my lips over his soft, full mouth. I groaned again at how deliciously sweet he tasted. Our hands started roaming over each other’s bodies. He broke away from our kiss for a moment, only to turn his head and nuzzle against my groin.

  “Fuck…” I groaned as he nipped and rubbed against my cock through my jeans.

  “Mason…” I started,

  “Lee…” he exclaimed at the same time. We both laughed.

  “You first,” I said.

  “Age before beauty,” he teased.

  “Fucker,” I whispered, sneaking back down for another slow kiss. As I drew back just far enough to be able to focus on his gorgeous eyes, I continued, “…but at least you admit you’re beautiful.”

  His cheeks pinked even more as he looked up at me, his eyes locked on my lips.

  “Mason… I want to make love to you,” I admitted, looking into those gorgeous eyes. “But if, and only if, you want it, too.”

  I saw him suck his bottom lip between his teeth nervously, but after a few long moments, he nodded.

  “I want,” he responded. I stifled a smug chuckle at the desire that choked his voice. “I so want…” He groaned. “…but I’m afraid,” he said, ruefully, eyes slipping away from mine. “I… I haven’t really… responded to anyone, sexually, since I escaped from Milwaukee.”

  That brought me up short. I hadn’t considered what half a lifetime of being forced into prostitution might have done to Mason’s sex drive.

  “Yep, ‘Escape from Milwaukee’ sounds like a bad sci fi movie,” he kept going, his nerves getting the better of him. “You could be Kurt Russell, and I could be—” I placed my finger on his lips, shushing him.

  “Okay…” I said, letting out a breath. We could do this. If he was willing to trust me, and be honest about how he was feeling, we might be able manage this. “Eighties films later. Sexy talk now. I appreciate your honesty, but I have to ask a few questions. First, I need you to keep being honest with me. If you don’t tell me how you are feeling, I won’t know how to help,” I said. He nodded at me, not moving his lips from my finger. I smiled down at him.

  “I know you are capable of having an erection,” I said, eyeing his crotch and waggling my eyebrows at him suggestively until he laughed, then laying a gentle kiss on his nose, “…especially if that boner you were sporting at my moms’ earlier is any indication, but have you ever had an orgasm?” I asked quietly. He darted a glance at me, then away again, and if possible, I thought his ears got even redder as he lay there by the firelight.

  “…Yes,” he answered finally. “I mean, the normal morning stuff. Everything, well, works, and all. I’ve got the medical bills to prove it. I’ve just never… well, never been interested in anyone, before. Never really attached anyone to it, in my mind, I mean, until, only, um… just… uh… recently.” He stammered and looked away again. I felt my eyes narrow a bit.

  “How recently?” I asked, feeling a touch of a smug smile tugging at the corner of my mouth, but not wanting him to think I was laughing at him. He mumbled something that I didn’t quite catch, so I politely asked him to repeat it.

  “Yesterday, okay, asshole?” he said, sitting up and scooting away from me, embarrassment plain on his face. He sat there for a moment, huddled on the couch, his arms pulling his knees up to his chest. “And… I don’t, um, I don’t know if I can, uh, b-bottom,” he stuttered, a shudder running through his body as he hid his face against his knees. “…ever.”

  I moved up behind him slowly and wrapped my arms around him again. I waited several minutes, just holding him, until slowly, he relaxed against me again. He sighed and I felt some of the tension leave his body.

  “We’ll work it out,” I said simply.

  “It doesn’t, you know, freak you out that I, um, used to be a hooker? Or that I thought about you when… you know…?” he whispered, still hiding his face against his knees. I could almost feel the heat of his embarrassment coming off his body in waves. God, he was so adorably awkward.

  “Oh, Beautiful,” I sighed, pulling him closer and nuzzling up against his warmth, my fingers laced with his again.

  “First of all, you were never a hooker. You were a kid who was hurt, abused and put into an untenable position in order to survive. And even if you were, I wouldn’t judge. You did what you had to do to survive. Second, it will take a lot more than you thinking about me during masturbation to freak me out. I’m honored, Mason, truly,” I said, laying small kisses along the back of his neck.

  “You don’t know how much it means to me that you shared all of this with me. Not just some ‘firsts’, but the fact that you trusted me. enough to share all of this with me.” I leaned him backward toward me until his head lay once more in my lap, and we were looking at each other upside down again.

  “And third, regarding bottoming, I value the trust you’ve placed in me and I would never ask you to do anything that would make you uncomfortable, or that would hurt you in any way.”

  Mason looked back up at me, a small spark appearing in the depths of his eyes. Something… hope, maybe? Lighting them from within.

  “And as luck would have it,” I continued, “I happen to like a little bit of everything in the bedroom, so who’s topping who isn’t really an issue for me.”

  “…Seriously?” He asked, wrinkling his forehead as he looked up at me, doubt moving across his face as his gaze flitted up and down my body. “I mean… I figured…” his voice trailed off.

&nbs
p; “Figured what?” I asked, smoothing the wrinkles on his forehead with my fingers.

  “I guess… I figured… you’re just so…” he waved a hand at me in a quasi-salute, then waved vaguely at my body. I thought I finally figured out what he was trying to say.

  “…Military?” I laughed.

  “Yeah, kinda,” he answered, a relieved grin on his face as I translated from Mason-speak.

  “What you like, or are like, in bed has nothing to do with assumptions people make about your appearance,” I said, bringing his fingers up to my lips and laying kisses across his knuckles, making sure to take the sting out of any hint of criticism in my words.

  “I’ve known some of the most femme-looking men who were incredibly dominant in bed. I’ve also known some drill sergeants who have never topped a day in their lives,” I finished, sucking one of his fingers into my mouth.

  He groaned as my tongue danced over his skin, nipping and sucking gently at the skin between his fingers.

  A moan slid from between his lips as I continued my caresses.

  “Lee…”

  “Yes, Mason?” I asked, continuing my exploration of his beautiful skin.

  “…make love with me…?” he asked questioningly.

  “It would truly be my pleasure,” I breathed. “I intend to make this so incredible for you, Mason,” I whispered, leaning forward and dropping little kisses on his eyelids, his passion-warmed cheeks, his lips. He opened his mouth for me, and I licked and nipped and teased his lips, enjoying the unique taste that was only Mason, and the odd feeling of kissing upside down.

  By the time our kiss broke, he was panting, a fine sheen of sweat breaking across his forehead. His eyes had closed, and I didn’t like the way he seemed to withdraw from me. I gently kissed him again, then drew away from him. His eyes opened and his gaze followed me as I sat up a bit.

  “Remember, Mason, nothing happens tonight that you don’t want to happen,” I whispered. He nodded hesitantly in response.

  “At any time,” Mason dropped my gaze and looked away, but I tipped his chin back up with my finger and continued, “Any. Time. You say stop, we stop.”

  He watched from that oddly disconcerting position for a moment, our heads upside-down relative to each other. He hesitated for a moment, but then nodded.

  I urged him up to his feet and stood, kissing him again, taking hold of his hands and bringing the unbruised portions of our foreheads together, our faces properly aligned finally. My lips brushed his as we kissed, one hand stroking his neck, his back, sliding down to his waist, silently cursing all the clothes we were wearing.

  “Come to bed with me?” I asked, raising one eyebrow in question. He nodded, and a small smile slid across his lips. I turned us around and backed toward the bedroom.

  We slowly made our way to the bedroom, stopping every step or two for more kisses, mouths hot and wet and hungrily searching over the parts of each other’s skin we could reach. He was tentative at first, but his movements became increasingly confident the more we touched and the closer we got to the bedroom.

  I maneuvered us into the bedroom, slowly urging him backward toward the bed. When his feet brushed the throw he paused, and I saw the same hesitation go through him that I’d seen earlier.

  “Any. Time.” I reiterated, following each word with a kiss. He nodded again, his eyes hungrily following mine.

  “Sit down, Mason,” I said. “Please.” He sat down slowly on the bed, his eyes never leaving my face.

  I slid my hands beneath his t-shirt, bunching it and his dress shirt up together as I pressed kisses to his body. I spotted tantalizing glimpses of his chest and abdomen as I started pulling them up. I began working on undoing the buttons of his dress shirt, moving slowly to give him time to adjust, but apparently too slowly for Mason, who ended up growling and tearing his shirts off over his head and flinging them across the room in frustration. I heard the tick-tick sound of buttons landing on the hardwood floor and couldn’t help but grin. Hope someone knows how to sew…

  Then my eyes caught on the perfect body in front of me, and I thought I was going to swallow my tongue. His skin was almost an ivory color, so white against the curly black hair that brushed his shoulders that the difference was startling. His chest was almost hairless, lean, but well-defined. His nipples were small and pink, the exact right-size for my lips to nip and suck. I saw a dusting of dark hair leading down his stomach to his happy trail, which disappeared beneath the waistband of his low-slung jeans.

  I kissed my way down his neck to his chest, then lower. I sucked each of those perfect nipples into my mouth, nipping and licking them until he moaned and writhed against me as I worked the hard nubs. I felt his muscles bunch and tense as I moved across his body.

  Kneeling between his thighs, I looked up at him. His face was dazed, his eyes half-closed. I could see his erection straining at the front of his pants. I wanted to make this so good for him, but when I brushed a hand across his crotch and felt him tense against me, I knew the only way that was going to happen was if he knew he was in control.

  “Mason, we’re going to play a game…” He looked up at me in surprise, his eyes glassy, his pupils half-blown.

  “A… game?” he asked in confusion and a little trepidation apparent in his voice, his breath coming in pants. “What… game?” he asked breathlessly.

  “Oh, baby, don’t worry,” I said. “It’s called ‘Mason, May I?’”

  I felt one corner of my mouth twitch upward as a grin spread across my face, and I saw understanding work its way through his lust-addled brain.

  “Fuck… I think I’m going to like this game…” he whispered, his voice unusually low and choked with lust as he spoke. “What are the rules?”

  I grinned at him. “Well, I think it’s going to be one of my new favorites…” I said.

  “Here’s the rules. Before I do anything with you, I have to get your permission,” I said, licking my lips as I looked up and down his gorgeous body. “For example, Mason, May I… touch you?” I asked, breathless with lust at the sight of him sitting on my bed. His head was thrown back, his neck arched, and arms bracing himself against the mattress as I’d sucked on his nipples. His lips were parted, and his face flushed with arousal.

  A bit of that mischievous look flared back in his eyes and he grinned at me.

  “Yes, please…” he groaned. “I mean, ‘you may’.”

  I leaned forward and brushed a light caress across his cheek, stroking my thumb across his cheek, along his face, gliding my fingers across his closed eyelids, feeling the brush of his eyelashes like butterfly kisses on my skin.

  “Mason, May I… kiss your neck?” I whispered.

  He groaned, his eyes half-lidded as he lay on the bed watching me, his throat moving almost convulsively as he swallowed.

  “You may,” he whispered.

  My lips brushed along his jaw, sucking gently at his earlobe before moving down to a little hollow along his neck, a spot right above his collarbone. My tongue flicked out and tasted his skin. I moaned this time, exulting in the salty taste of his fevered flesh against my tongue.

  “Mason, May I… unbutton your pants?” I asked, starting to move down the bed.

  He watched me as I crept down his body and this time he didn’t answer, simply nodded. I saw some of the tension he had exhibited earlier was back, and I felt a small tremor go through him as my face moved closer to his crotch.

  I stopped moving.

  “Ah! Ah! Ah!” I said, waving a finger at him like a naughty child. “That’s not in the rules… What are the magic words?”

  “Ass,” he groaned again, but this time a gritted, “You may” escaped his lips.

  I continued down his body, nuzzling his skin as I lazily made my way down to his crotch. I could see the way the denim strained with his erection, a wet spot darkening the front of his jeans, and I was practically salivating to be able to flick my tongue out and taste him, but I hadn’t asked yet. God, this game
was going to kill both of us.

  I paused as I reached my destination, making sure his eyes were locked on mine as I reached a finger out to the straining denim. I watched his throat work again, as if he was having trouble swallowing.

  Flick. My nail flicked at the top button of his jeans, the fabric springing open. Fuck… they were button fly jeans… Flick. Flick. Flick. The denim opened eagerly, stressed against the swell of his erection. I could just make out the bulge of his cock straining behind the waistband of his underwear, long and thick and mouthwateringly close. Mason must have been able to feel my breath brush across his skin, hot and wet.

  I realized Mason and I were both breathing heavily now as I looked up at him from the bottom of the bed. I hadn't done much more than kiss him, but I had a feeling he was almost ready to come.

  “Mason, May I…” I paused, overwhelmed at the depth of what I was feeling for this man right now as I knelt between his legs.

  “…What? Fuck, what?” he asked, through gritted teeth. His desperation made me smile.

  “Mason, May I… touch your cock?” I asked. I tensed.

  Time froze, hanging on his response. For a moment, I thought he was going to say it was too much, that he needed to stop. Oddly, I was okay with that. No, really. Just kissing him tonight had been more than I'd dared hope to have from him after yesterday. Everything else was just delicious, mouthwatering icing on this gorgeous, beautiful cake.

  He nodded jerkily once, then he nodded a second time, this time with more certainty.

  “I need you—” I started to speak, suddenly realizing I was pretty worked up myself by the look on his face. I paused, took a deep breath to center myself, then cleared my throat and continued. “I need you to say it,” I said, my eyes lost in his gaze, my own heart galloping. “I need you to give me permission,” I urged, my hands stroking his sides gently.

  “Yes. Oh god, yes you may…” He moaned.

  I reached my hand out to gently trace the outline of his cock beneath his briefs. He shuddered as my hands stroked over his erection, teasing gently along its head, down along its sides and gently stroking his balls through the fabric. He moaned again as I touched him, his hips twitching unconsciously as he strained toward my hand.