Being With Him

by Mickie B. Ashling

  “You’ve made enough adjustments for me,” Alex said. “This is one easy thing I can do for you.”

  “I don’t want you to be my butler either,” Zeb cautioned. “Even if it kills you, leave my shit on the floor.”

  Alex cocked his head. “That might be pushing it. Why can’t I pick up if I’m so inclined?”

  “Then I’d feel guilty and we’ll be going round and round again.”

  “Got it,” Alex said, nodding. “I promise to walk around with blinders, so I’m not tempted to drag out the laundry basket.”

  “Good. And I’ll sweep up the piles when they become unbearable.”

  Alex snickered.

  “Now that we’ve settled our differences, it’s time for some make-up sex,” Zeb concluded.

  “You’re still in the mood?”

  “It’s a guy thing,” Zeb said, and this time he was definitely teasing. “We’re always in the mood for sex.”

  “Thanks for the helpful hint,” Alex quipped.

  Zeb kissed him gently and when they broke apart, he said, “You might not like what I have to say at times, but don’t ever doubt my sincerity.”

  Alex nodded. “I realized a while ago that you have very few filters.”

  “Let me know if I’m ever too blunt.”

  “I’ll take honesty over mind games any day.”

  “Good.”

  Zeb tugged on Alex’s T-shirt, and he lifted his arms to help. He toed off his shoes next and reclined, pulling Zeb down with him.

  “What about your pants?” Zeb asked.

  “I thought I’d keep them on for now.”

  “Please, take ’em off.”

  Alex lifted his ass and shoved his jeans down his long legs, and following Zeb’s example, kicked them off the bed. He kept his briefs on and shook his head when Zeb moved a hand under the elastic. “Hold on.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “There’s too much light in the room.”

  Zeb got out of bed and walked to the window. It was a dreary winter afternoon, and the sun’s rays barely shone through the clouds, much less the bedroom, but Alex’s statement had more to do with personal boundaries than actual facts.

  “How’s that?” Zeb asked, shutting the blinds.

  “Better. Can you get the overhead light as well?”

  Chapter 10

  ZEB WAITED for his eyes to adjust before returning to bed. He wondered how much longer Alex would insist on making love in the shadows. The few times they’d had sex with any form of light, it was always Zeb who’d been half or fully naked. Alex usually kept his pants on while dispensing blowjobs. Whenever they moved beyond that, sheets were pulled up and lights turned off. He’d gotten pretty good at letting his hands and mouth guide the way, and Alex had been vocal with his praise, achieving orgasms on more than one occasion, but always shrouded in darkness.

  Since he was the newb in this relationship, Zeb allowed Alex to take the lead, but so far he’d been tentative. Whether it was fear of rejection or legit concerns about rushing, Alex’s consideration was beginning to frustrate Zeb. The sum total of their sexual encounters hadn’t been that different from what he’d experienced with women, minus the penetration. Granted, the blowjobs were far superior, and he’d never been with a better kisser. Then there was the emotional connection. Zeb hadn’t felt more in tune with anyone than he did with Alex.

  But he wanted more. Alex had been the first one to suggest anal play, and the first time his fingers grazed Zeb’s tiny walnut-shaped organ, he’d come unglued. Zeb had ignored this part of his body for years, and now it had become a focal point of interest. He wanted to feel a cock nudge the same spot, and with Alex’s vast array of prostheses, he could pick and choose the color, size, and shape. Zeb had been reluctant to ask, but he decided that waiting for Alex to make the first move would be as productive as wishing on a falling star. Tonight he was going to put forth his Christmas request and hope Alex would be willing to grant it without reservations.

  By the time he slid under the sheets, Alex had removed his briefs, along with the soft pack, an exact replica of a flaccid penis and respectable set of balls. Zeb had been intrigued the first time he’d seen it during their initial encounter and had bombarded Alex with questions.

  “Why not insert an erect cock?” Zeb had queried back then. “This way you’re always ready for action.”

  “Are you comfortable walking around with an erection?” Alex had replied.

  “Fuck, no,” Zeb said, then laughed out loud when he realized he’d answered his own question. “Of course you couldn’t walk around with a stiff dick. What the hell was I thinking?”

  Alex smiled that gorgeous smile of his, the one that went all the way up to his eyes and made Zeb feel like the most important man in the world.

  “Someday soon they’ll invent a prosthesis that can do both,” Alex had explained, “but right now my choices are limited to what they call a soft or hard pack.”

  “One is for show and the other is primed for action?”

  “Now you’re getting it,” Alex had replied.

  Since then, Alex had patiently—and honestly—answered Zeb’s questions. Nothing was held back, and this intimate exchange had done a lot to move their relationship forward. Awkward moments were greatly reduced by Alex’s willingness to share the everyday challenges a trans man faced in the bedroom.

  Tonight, Zeb hoped Alex would put aside his reservations and go a step further. They started with toe-curling kisses that quickly escalated into frantic scrabbling to create more friction. Zeb lay prone on Alex, grinding his throbbing cock against the prosthesis, while Alex grabbed handfuls of his ass and canted his hips in response. Zeb was so hard it hurt, and he buried his head against Alex’s neck, whining in frustration.

  “What is it, sugar?”

  “I want you,” Zeb growled.

  “Go ahead and fuck my mouth,” Alex urged.

  “Can we try something different?” Zeb pleaded breathlessly. “I love your blowjobs, but I need more.”

  “Tell me what you want.”

  “Can we fuck?”

  “Now?”

  “Yes,” Zeb said. “Please let me fuck you.”

  Alex froze and didn’t reply. Zeb waited a few seconds and when nothing happened, he reluctantly pushed the idea aside. Obviously, Alex wasn’t ready yet, and that was disappointing, but within his rights, and Zeb sure as heck wasn’t going to force the issue. Instead, he reversed the order of play. “Okay, scratch that. Do me instead.”

  “What—no!” Alex protested. “It’s too soon, isn’t it? I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “I’m ready for it,” Zeb assured him. “Use lots of lube.”

  “It’s still going to hurt,” Alex warned. “Why don’t you let me prep you for a few more days?”

  “I’m tired of waiting,” Zeb said. “I want it now.”

  “Have you ever heard the term bossy bottom?”

  “Is that a gay thing?”

  Alex chuckled. “Yes, and it’s tailor-made for you.”

  “Look, I realize you’re resisting because I’m inexperienced, but how will I know if it’s a good or bad thing unless we try?” Zeb asked. “I promise not to hold it against you if I hate it.”

  “Okay,” Alex said, drawing out the word. “Do you have a preference in size?”

  “No,” Zeb said, rolling off Alex. He kept stroking his cock to keep the momentum going. “You choose.”

  Alex pushed Zeb’s hand aside and bent down to lick the tip of Zeb’s cock, already shiny with beads of arousal.

  Zeb groaned. “Don’t start.”

  Alex withdrew. “Just making sure you really don’t want a BJ.”

  “Ordinarily, I’d jump at the chance,” Zeb said. “You have a very talented mouth, but I really, really want to try something new.”

  “I’ll be back in a flash.”

  Zeb squeezed the base of his cock while he waited. Knowing what was coming next made him hornier f
or some reason, and he didn’t want to nut before they got started. When Alex returned, he sat on his haunches between Zeb’s legs. He reached for a pillow and pushed it underneath Zeb’s hips before applying a generous amount of lube in and around Zeb’s hole. All of this was happening in the dark, and Zeb wished he could watch, but he was afraid to make the request in case he spooked Alex. Maybe after they got this first out of the way, he’d be more amenable to lights.

  Zeb’s earlier perception of anal sex had been old-fashioned, mirroring the pious teachings of the Jesuits who’d guided him through his formative years. Back then, the priests in charge of his all-male high school had warned the students that sodomy was the root cause of AIDS, and anyone engaging in the depraved practice would either die or go insane. It was no wonder Zeb was a little apprehensive at first, but Luca had set his mind at ease, calling bullshit on most of the stuff he’d learned back then. Tonight, he’d find out firsthand if this was something to be feared or embraced.

  “Are you ready, sugar?” Alex asked, breaking through Zeb’s thoughts.

  “Yes.”

  Making love in the dark was like being blindfolded. The slightest movement in these uncharted waters was electrifying, and Alex’s soft endearments in French were as good, if not better, than store-bought aphrodisiacs. Zeb’s body responded without hesitation as Alex continued using his fingers, expertly toying with the tender tissue around his anus. Slowly, Alex pushed in a digit, and then two, stretching and circling, listening intently for Zeb’s reactions. Any hesitation on his part would put an end to the session, because he was aware that Alex was determined to give him pleasure, not pain. In truth, the discomfort had quickly been eclipsed by a warm tingle so stimulating he couldn’t wait to find out what was next.

  Zeb reached up and slid his hands over Alex’s perfect ass, smiling in secret satisfaction when his lover sucked in a startled breath. Zeb began to knead and caress the taut flesh, sliding his own fingers closer and closer to Alex’s tight furl.

  “What are you doing?” Alex asked in confusion.

  “Doesn’t it feel good?” Zeb asked. “I love what you’re doing to me.”

  “God yes. Kiss me,” Alex demanded.

  Zeb raised his head slightly and latched on to Alex’s soft lips, pushing in his tongue and tangling with its counterpart, as he continued to squeeze Alex’s gorgeous buttcheeks. They were hairless and perfectly formed, smooth as silk. It would probably feel amazing burying his cock in the dark cleft, but that was in the future. For now, he continued to tease, dipping his thumb in and out of Alex’s tight entry.

  “You’re not playing fair,” Alex grumbled when they broke apart. “This was supposed to be about you.”

  “What’s good for the goose….”

  “Shut up,” Alex said, kissing him again. A little rougher this time, and Zeb met him forcefully. Their tongues curled and fought for dominance, but in the end, Zeb let Alex take the lead again. He let go of his ass and gripped the strong biceps that were straining to keep Alex from plastering Zeb to the bed.

  In a raspy voice that sounded quite desperate, Zeb begged, “Please, Alex. We’ve had enough foreplay.”

  Silently Alex lifted both of Zeb’s legs to his shoulders. In that moment, Zeb was grateful for the darkness. He felt completely exposed and was glad Alex couldn’t see his face as he grimaced when the hard silicone pushed against his hole. He clenched, blocking Alex’s progress while increasing his own discomfort. He squirmed and made a sound of protest.

  “Shall I stop?” Alex asked gently.

  “No, just hold on,” Zeb directed. “What can I do to make this easier?”

  “Try bearing down,” Alex said.

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes.”

  Zeb gritted his teeth and did as instructed. Miraculously, it eased the way, and Alex pushed through the tight muscles in tiny increments, gently sliding into place.

  “Whoa,” Zeb said. “Give me a sec.”

  Alex froze. “Unbearable?”

  “Nuh-uh,” Zeb said, panting. “Just trying to wrap my head around the idea of having something up my ass for the first time. How long is this thing?”

  “About seven inches in length and fat enough to feel the burn.”

  “Jesus, maybe we should have gone with a pencil dick?”

  Alex chuckled. “Over my dead body. This is a standard size. Do you want me to pull out?”

  “No!”

  Alex swallowed Zeb’s words with another bruising kiss and began to move his hips. Little by little, the tension in Zeb’s coiled body receded, and the sweet itch deep in his core cried out to be stroked. Alex slowly thrust in and out, and Zeb tried pushing back to gain more friction, but it was difficult in this position. He was about to say something, but his intuitive boyfriend must have sensed the problem, and changed angle slightly. Whatever he did worked, because Zeb lost his mind when the ribbed prosthesis nudged his prostate.

  “That’s it,” he shouted. “Right. Fucking. There.”

  “I’ve got this,” Alex whispered, and began pumping in earnest.

  Zeb was free-falling through space, hurtling toward an amazing orgasm in absolute darkness with Alex as his only lifeline. He’d wrapped one of his large hands around Zeb’s rigid cock, shafting him in counterpoint to his rocking. This wasn’t frightening at all, Zeb thought; on the contrary, it was exhilarating, so much more than he’d imagined. He didn’t have to see Alex’s face to know he was deriving immense satisfaction from this experience as well. The thudding of his heart, and low growls rising from deep in his chest, accompanied by tongue-tangling kisses, and deep, forceful thrusts were all signs that Alex, too, was getting off on this. The how didn’t matter to Zeb, only the why. He was the catalyst, the one who made Alex open up and soar. It filled him with a sense of accomplishment like nothing else. Zeb had every intention of reciprocating in the future—when Alex was ready—but for now, he was more than happy to be a bossy bottom. It was better than good. It was awesome.

  Chapter 11

  ALEX’S CANDLELIGHT dinner was fantastic. Each dish, prepared with loving hands, was perfectly seasoned, and he listened in amusement as Zeb suggested they forgo Midnight Mass. He attributed the change of heart to a combination of great sex and good food, flattering him on both counts, but he insisted they carry on with the original plan.

  “You’ll feel better once we get outside,” Alex assured Zeb, who wanted to snuggle on the sofa. “It’s a great way to celebrate Christmas Eve.”

  “Listen to you,” Zeb muttered. “Midnight Mass never crossed your mind until I mentioned it.”

  “That’s true,” Alex admitted. “But now that you’ve planted the seed, I’m all for it. I haven’t been to Mass in years for many reasons—”

  “You don’t believe in God?”

  “That’s not it, sugar. It would have been impossible to be raised by my parents and not believe. I always felt there was someone greater than all of us conducting life’s orchestra. You can call him, or her, whatever you want, but in my opinion, he exists. Unfortunately, my faith dwindled as my gender dysphoria surged. I couldn’t understand how anyone could make such a monumental error by giving me a body that didn’t match my soul.”

  “And now?” Zeb asked.

  “A lot has changed,” Alex noted. “Taking the time to pay my respects and give thanks for all the blessings I’ve received this year feels like the right thing to do.”

  Zeb nodded. “I hear you. Do you believe in fate?”

  “I’m more inclined to say yes than no,” Alex said. “There’s been so much that’s fallen into place without any effort on my part.”

  “You know I didn’t want to go to Cornell,” Zeb reminded him. “Now I have to wonder if it was my destiny. How else would I have met you if not for Luca?”

  “It makes a strong argument,” Alex agreed. “Three years ago I was pretty despondent. I couldn’t picture the sort of life I have right now. There were so many obstacles to overcome, and yet, I
have. Tonight I feel like the luckiest man alive, and I owe a lot of my happiness to you, however, I’m also aware that anything can happen to change the trajectory of our lives. Being smug and ungrateful goes against my core beliefs. A heartfelt ‘thank-you’ won’t go amiss and might even put us on the plus side of the karma scale.”

  “You’re right,” Zeb said. “Let me go wash my face and brush my teeth. That’ll wake me up.”

  “And if that doesn’t work, the freezing temps will.”

  “Shit, don’t remind me. Can we take an Uber to St. John? I’d rather not walk in this weather.”

  “Sure,” Alex said. “Will ten minutes be enough time?”

  “No problem.”

  After arranging for their ride, Alex went to change his clothes. In keeping with the holiday spirit, he ignored his stack of black shirts and sweaters and opted for something more festive. He picked an ivory, hand-knitted sweater from Ireland, Italian wool merino pants in dark gray, and a red cashmere scarf with matching beret from Scotland, all purchased during separate modeling gigs. He topped it off with a steel-gray peacoat, the exact shade of his pants.

  The look of appreciation on Zeb’s face when he walked out of the bathroom reassured him.

  “I take it you like my outfit?” Alex asked.

  “Wowza,” Zeb said succinctly.

  “You don’t think it’s too bright?”

  “No, you look fabulous. I might not be able to hold back the PDAs.”

  “Do your best, sugar. I hear St. John’s is pretty progressive, but there’s no reason to test their tolerance level tonight.”

  “Don’t worry,” Zeb promised. “I’ll be good. Is Bacon coming?”

  “No, we can’t bring him inside the church.”

  “Aww… poor puppy,” Zeb said, bending down to rub Bacon’s head.

  “He’ll be fine,” Alex said. “I leave him alone all day while I’m at work.”

  “But it’s Christmas Eve,” Zeb said plaintively. “I can put him inside my jacket. No one will even notice.”