Cataclysmic Shift

by Tara Lain

  He looked over at Amelia, who stuck her leg in the air, leaned down, and licked her female parts. Hmm. He listened. Dishes still rattled in the kitchen. Luke had said he’d clean up since Alain had set everything out. He would have liked to help, but it felt like Luke wanted to be alone.

  Amelia seemed to be enjoying her bath. He should be able to do it. He stretched out a leg and bent down. His head easily rested on his thigh. If he tucked his head, it might work.

  He slipped off his pajama pants and dropped them on the bed beside him. There it was. He had no idea how he came to have such an impressive penis, and he must have a basis for comparison, because he knew it was big. Whose penis had he seen? What did Luke’s penis look like?

  He reached down and pulled back his foreskin. That felt very good indeed.

  Okay. Could he do it? He leaned until his head passed his thigh and rested on the sheet beneath. So close. With one hand, he grabbed his penis and stretched it toward his mouth. He curled his neck. Damn, it seemed like it would feel so good if he could clean it like Amelia was doing. Why didn’t it work?

  He stuck out his tongue.

  Yes. The tip of his tongue contacted the foreskin. Oh my goodness. He gave two licks. With his other hand, he pulled back the skin and exposed the gleaming head of his member. Oh yes. His tongue made contact again. Warm, wet, heavenly. He stretched his tongue until the root burned, but he couldn’t get much more of the penis wet. Still, this was wonderful. What would it be like if someone else did it for him?

  His rumbles tickled his chest. “Hmmpurrrrr.” He licked all around the head, then tried to push into that tiny hole. “Purrrrrrrrr.”

  “Alain?” Luke’s voice came from behind the door that stood ajar.

  He froze. Luke seemed to find him unusual. This felt like a perfectly normal activity to him, but Luke might not think so.

  “Is anything wrong?” Luke sounded concerned.

  Alain grabbed his pajama pants and pulled them across his lap as he sat up. His penis was quite stiff from his ministrations. “No, I’m fine. Come in.”

  Luke pushed open the door, glanced at Alain’s lap, and blushed. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. You should have closed your door, and I wouldn’t have bothered you.”

  What did he mean, exactly?

  Luke grinned. “But hey, we all do it, right?”

  Oh. “You do? Because I found it quite difficult.”

  “You did?”

  Alain pulled his eyebrows together. “Amelia does it with such ease, but I found I couldn’t get as far as she does. How do you do it?”

  Luke frowned and sat on the edge of the bed. “Amelia? What are we talking about, Alain?”

  “Trying to lick one’s balls and member. Isn’t that what you meant?”

  Luke’s mouth opened, then closed again. Then he started to laugh. “Not exactly, but I was correct that there’s hardly a guy on the planet who hasn’t tried it. Never with much success, though. If we could do it, the race would probably vanish, since no man would look for a partner to do it for him.” He laughed some more.

  Alain laughed too, not quite sure why, but Luke was so delightful. “I did achieve a partial victory in the attempt.”

  Luke stopped laughing. “You did?”

  “Yes. Do you want to see?”

  Luke stood up fast. “No, that’s okay.” He walked to the door, then paused. “I got everything put away. Thanks so much for helping. I’m heading for bed. Sleep well.”

  “Yes, thank you.” Luke left fast.

  “Mew.” Amelia arched her back high and stretched out her legs. Yes, that should feel good too. He copied her, letting the stretch loosen his spine and shoulders, but his member did not feel relaxed.

  “Mew.”

  “All right. We’ll go to sleep.” He pulled on his pajama bottoms and walked to the bathroom in the hall, used the facilities, then returned to his door and looked down the hall. Lights didn’t shine under Luke’s bedroom door. He sighed. Asleep already. Inside, Amelia was curled in a ball on her side. He flipped off the lights and crawled under the covers.

  His member throbbed. He reached down and gave it two tugs. Nice. He stroked up and back to the root. Oh my. The men had talked tonight about sex, about rimming and something called deep-throating. These were things that gay men did, they said. Gay men. Had he ever had sex? If he got his memory back, would it be filled with rimming and deep-throating? Or other practices equally delightful-sounding? Oh yes, it certainly seemed like it. He stroked again. Those feelings were very familiar.

  He tugged on his balls as he stroked his penis with the other hand. That was wonderful! But not as extraordinary as the tongue. That licking had felt very good. He sat up, flipped off the covers, and pulled the pajamas over his very erect member. He chuckled. Quite a flag stanchion he had here.

  “Mew.”

  “Sorry to bother you, Amelia, but some things a man must do.”

  He leaned down as he had before, one leg extended, the other bent, and his head on the bedclothes. He grabbed the penis and pulled it closer, then stretched his tongue until they met in the middle. Lap. Lap. Not entirely satisfying but quite nice. So Luke couldn’t do this? He needed someone to do it for him.

  What a good idea.

  DAMN, LUKE had to stop shaking. The picture of that beautiful guy with his cock sticking up in the middle of a pair of plaid pajamas scored his brain. How could an adult be that innocent? Or that fucking sexy?

  Time to get rid of the boner. He rolled to the side and grabbed the lube from the bedside table. Go to work. With a flip, he opened the cap and—

  “Mew.”

  No way. Every muscle went rigid. They matched his cock.

  “Luke, are you awake?”

  Maybe he should pretend to be asleep. “Yes.”

  “May I ask you some questions?”

  Okay, maybe that was better. “Uh, sure. Want to go in the living room?” He couldn’t move until Alain left. His cock would take over the room.

  “No.” The covers moved, and there he was again.

  With a huge fucking difference.

  Mrs. Elliott didn’t raise any dumb gay sons. He recognized a hard cock sticking against his ass when he felt it. He scooted away a little, but the rigid intruder still made contact.

  “Uh, Alain?”

  “I was wondering if you would tell me more about gay.”

  Luke swallowed. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

  “No.”

  He cleared his throat and squeezed the base of his cock. Hard. “What do you want to know?”

  “Tell me more about deep-throating. What is it, exactly? Rock didn’t tell me.”

  Oh. My. God. He felt partly like a teacher talking to his student. Partly like a perv leching on a kid. And mostly like a horny, horny man. “Well, uh, you know how you were licking your cock. I mean, I can hardly believe you can do that, but still.”

  “Yes. It feels very good but not quite satisfying.”

  “Uh, yeah, I can imagine. Anyway, deep-throating is related. A person, either a man or a woman, takes a man’s penis in their mouth and sucks.”

  “Oh my.”

  “Uh, technically that’s oral sex or fellatio, but when the person takes the man’s penis far down their throat….” Shitfire, if he squeezed his cock any harder, it would turn blue. “That’s called deep-throating.”

  “That sounds extremely delicious.”

  “You mean the sucking or being sucked?” His voice cracked.

  “Both, actually.”

  “Yes, well, you’re right.”

  “Far more satisfying than licking one’s own member.”

  Oh shit. “Probably.”

  “I would be very happy to deep-throat you.”

  “Shit!” He scooted off the edge of the bed and stood up, realized his cock was about to blow, and grabbed it hard. “You should go to sleep.”

  Even in the darkened room, Alain’s eyes glowed a soft blue. “Why? Your memb
er is very hard. I know sucking would be a great relief.”

  How could he see that? “Alain, you aren’t even gay.”

  “I’m not?”

  He sighed. “I mean, you’ve never told me if you are.”

  The covers rustled. Damn, he needed light to be sure Alain wasn’t about to attack or something, but then Alain would clearly see his condition. Oh well. He flipped the bedside lamp on low.

  Alain sat up cross-legged, with that huge rod sticking up like a pole in his lap. His black hair shimmered in the soft light. He seemed wholly unconcerned by his lack of modesty. The kitten had made a nest for herself on the extra pillow and watched intently.

  Alain scratched his head like he was pondering a great mystery. “I don’t remember if I’m gay.” He smiled. “But I find you very beautiful, and the idea of sucking your member—or as you say, cock—is altogether appealing.” He pointed down. “My cock throbs at the idea.”

  Too much. No perverse universe could ask him to endure this kind of temptation. “I couldn’t let you do that.”

  Alain hopped onto his hands and knees like a lithe animal. “Why not? Don’t you think it would be delightful? I’m sure I can’t sleep with this great ache going on. I suspect you can’t either. I suppose we could both sit here and rub ourselves until we’ve spent, but this would be so much more enjoyable.” He crawled a few feet across the bed, his cock bouncing under him and slapping his flat belly as he moved.

  Luke shook his head, closed his eyes, and squeezed like a son of a bitch. “Go back to bed.” But he didn’t move. He could have run into the living room, locked himself in the bathroom, shit, crawled under the bed. But he stood there….

  Until that hot mouth engulfed his dick and started to suck.

  Holy shitfire. The guy might have lost his memories but not his instincts. Alain’s wet, silky tongue worked over Luke’s cockhead, and then his whole mouth consumed Luke’s length. Oh God. He opened his eyes. Black hair hid Alain’s face. No, he had to see.

  He reached down and pulled the hair back so he could watch those lean cheeks hollowing with the suction. So beautiful Luke could come just looking. It had been forever since anyone sucked his cock, and now the universe stepped in and gave him this. Hell, maybe there was a God.

  His hips took over. He started to pump into Alain’s mouth. Down below he caught a glimpse of that giant cock bobbing.

  No fair.

  “Scoot back, baby.” Still thrusting into Alain’s mouth, Luke followed him as he crawled backward. “Hang on a second.” He flipped until his hips were by Alain’s mouth, and Alain’s giant member, as he called it, was in the vicinity of Luke’s piehole.

  Luke looked down. Alain grabbed Luke’s cock and pulled it toward his mouth. Luke reached down and guided it, shoving his hips closer until the heavenly suction started again. So much for Luke saying no.

  He wouldn’t last long and here was his target. He curled his head enough to be able to reach Alain’s cock. She-it, what a mouthful. He opened wide, wider, and took that thing in. Oh my. Like a pigeon coming home to roost. He knew right where that cock belonged. He tightened his lips and sucked.

  “Oh my gods, Luke. Oh, that feels so good. Please do that more. Please.”

  With pleasure. The kid’s hips started thrusting. He was going crazy and translating the crazy right onto Luke’s dick.

  Like mirror images, they sucked and explored and humped each other’s mouths. He was going to come soon. Too hot to slow down. Ultimate challenge. Relax your throat. He shoved the silky, spicy cock as far down his throat as the laws of physics allowed. Then swallowed.

  “Luuuuuke.” Wham. Wham. Alain’s hips pumped, and hot cum flooded the back of Luke’s throat. “Oh, oh, mon dieu. Merde!”

  For a moment, Alain’s body froze; then he grabbed Luke’s cock again and shoved it into his throat. No idea how a novice managed to do it, but Luke’s cock slid down that tight channel and exploded. Every nerve in his body turned into a live wire, sending tingles of electric joy through his balls. Black, white, red lights flashed in his brain as his body remembered pleasure and surpassed it. His cock pumped juice in jet after jet, and Alain didn’t even gag.

  If this kid wasn’t gay, the rainbow team would be losing an MVP.

  Luke was totally screwed.

  Chapter Seven

  SO SOFT. So silky. Alain ran a gentle hand over Luke’s skin and felt the vibration of his gentle snores. He wanted to stay, but he had to go. He rested his lips against the hard-muscled shoulder. Luke has a beautiful form. Tall and lean with musculature that stood out in bas-relief. Joli. Très joli.

  Just lying there for the rest of the night, listening to Luke breathe, perhaps waking to master yet another wonderful gay skill, would be an excellent way to spend the time. But the drive to protect pumped through him like a drug. Some deep certainty of danger crept into his peace and devoured it.

  After another delicate kiss, he backed off the bed.

  “Mew.”

  He scratched Amelia under the chin and whispered, “Back to sleep, little one.”

  Quietly, he padded out into the hall and closed the door behind him. He hurried to the bathroom, wiped off the sex smell with a wet cloth, then ran into his bedroom. The one pair of black jeans they’d bought still hung in the closet with the tags on. He pulled them on, along with a plain black T-shirt, and gathered his hair up in a rubber band. The few dollars Luke had left for him went into his pocket. Sneakers that fit. That should do it. He raced to the front door and slipped out without a creak.

  The night was warm. Summer’s heat and humidity would wither the humans soon, but this was just perfect. He stopped. Where am I going?

  No idea.

  He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His feet almost tripped him with the desire to run. All right. He’d follow. He took off at a fast lope. Luke’s neighborhood included a number of apartment buildings and some brownstone residences that people were fixing up. Those residential streets gave way to a more commercial environment. Even so late at night, a lot of cars still cruised the streets. Fortunately, he didn’t look odd because humans ran at night a lot. And he was human. Wasn’t he?

  After many blocks his feet began to slow.

  Danger. Protect.

  His momentum carried him across the street and into a small pocket park next to a two-story building. It looked like an antique store. He found himself dropping down by a bush. Lights shone from behind curtains on the second floor of the building. The glow warmed his heart. Had he been here before? Was this his home?

  He peered into the shadows. Nothing. Was the danger just his imagination? He sat and stared at the window. Such longing. Should he go to that place of light?

  Rustling in the bushes sent a shiver up his spine. He peeked over the bush. A woman moved by, crouched and watchful. She had black hair and should have been pretty, but some deep ugliness seeped from her. His gut roiled.

  She stared up at the warm lights intently.

  Danger. Danger.

  She crept closer to the antique store, then moved to a door in the side wall.

  DANGER. What could he do? The sound pushed up his throat. “Merwaowr.”

  The woman spun around, then stood stock-still.

  “Merwaor.”

  She crouched again and rushed back toward the green space.

  Alain dropped to hands and knees and scurried to another bush farther from the antique store. “Merwaoorr.”

  She was quiet, but his ears picked up the sound of her approach. He scurried farther, meowing as he went. When he got to the edge of the park, he looked back. She was standing, trying to see him over the low bushes. He tiptoed through the bushes behind her, crossed a side street, and got a half block between them. Pressing his back against the building, he caterwauled and heard her footsteps running toward him. Coming fast. He looked up. A fire escape. He jumped, grabbed the bottom rung, and climbed it as it pulled down. With a leap, he covered the steps up to the next floor and then
ran to the roof. Below, the woman stopped and looked frantically in both directions.

  He stepped back from the edge. “Merwaooooor.”

  Down below, the woman’s voice rose in some odd, wailing song. Wait. He knew that. He’d heard it before, but where? A powerful compulsion pulled at him. Go down. Go to her. She’s your friend.

  No! Fight! Grabbing a big breath, he ran to the opposite end of the roof, found another fire escape, and scrambled down.

  What in hells? Gasping for breath, he leaned against the building. What had she tried to do? He knew of such women. He closed his eyes. A village. A small hut on the edge of town. An old woman. The children threw rocks at her and claimed she had the evil eye. But no, he’d defended her. She’d been a kind person with knowledge of herbs and healing. But wait—another one. One who was more than that. More power—

  He shook his head. Damnation. His memories churned like murky water. Why was he certain that if he didn’t remember, they would all die?

  He slunk around the building. Voices. He peeked. The woman stood talking to two men, one tall and dark and older. The other was blond and very pretty. Both men had that quality of skin and hair that suggested difference. Like Killian but not as beautiful. They glanced toward the antique building. Then she pointed to the roof he’d just left. One of the men jumped on the fire escape and climbed up. The woman and the other man got in a car.

  Alain waited. The sense of danger had been mitigated, but he wouldn’t leave as long it remained. A few minutes later, the man returned from the fire escape, got in the car, and they drove off.

  What had just happened? Something important. He looked back at the antique store. The lights on the second floor were off now. A deep sense of longing filled his chest. What was that place to him?