Super Sock Man

by Amy Lane

  Alejandro’s kiss deepened, became sharper, more powerful, and Alejandro swung one thigh over Donnie’s hip, and Donnie gasped, grinding his groin up against Alejandro’s, suddenly frantic to ease the new, deeper ache of arousal in his balls.

  Alejandro grunted and pulled back, panting.

  “Dammit, Donnie, I had plans for us….”

  Donnie whined and thrust up against him some more. “Want!” he snapped, mindless and needing, and Yandro shook his head and kissed his lips quickly.

  “God, you’re greedy like a toddler,” he muttered, and then started kissing his way down Donnie’s chest. He stopped for a moment at Donnie’s nipple… and oh God, what he did with his mouth! Pulling the swollen skin and tender flesh inside it, rubbing the edge of the skin with his tongue, suckling it to the point of pain but not beyond—oh God… it made Donnie want to beat his hands on Alejandro’s head, but he clenched them in his dark hair instead.

  Alejandro pulled his head back and looked up at Donnie’s frantic, agonized face with a gentle smile. “It’s okay, Donnie. You can be greedy. You can be greedy all you want this morning. Tonight, though, you’re going to have to let me do the taking, you understand?”

  Donnie nodded mutely and ground his pelvis against Alejandro’s, almost crying when Alejandro pulled away. But Alejandro kept moving down, nibbling his stomach, burying his nose in Donnie’s curly blond genital hair, and moving down even further to take Donnie’s painful, aching erection into his mouth without any fanfare whatsoever.

  Oh God oh God oh God… ooooooooooooooohhhhh….

  Donnie started to gibber, his skin so completely on overload that even Yandro’s hand gripping his ass felt erotic. His hands flailed for a moment, and Alejandro moved that hand on his ass up and placed Donnie’s own hand on his sensitive nipples. Donnie gave an exquisite, hard pinch and exploded, erupting into Yandro’s hot mouth and crying out loudly in obvious sexual repletion.

  Yandro stayed down there, his throat working, his mouth suckling even as Donnie pumped his hips instinctively in aftermath.

  Finally, finally, Donnie was done, his insatiable nineteen-year-old prick limp and his balls seemingly empty, and Alejandro moved up to smile at him, his mouth slick and shiny around his swollen lips.

  Donnie smiled back shyly and leaned forward, licking around Alejandro’s lips, tasting himself, and just as he sighed happily, Alejandro opened his mouth again in a deep, sensual, very grown-up kiss. They pressed together again, and Donnie felt the solid wet spot on the front of Alejandro’s shorts, and was suddenly reminded—forcefully—that Yandro hadn’t had any attention himself.

  “Oh God,” he mumbled, completely mortified. “I’m so sorry. I am. I… I’ve sort of been there, and I should have given a little back. I’m….”

  “Sh.” Alejandro kissed him shortly, and he stopped talking. “You’re young.” He laughed a little. “You’ve obviously never done this before—with another person, yes?”

  Donnie blushed. “Yes.”

  “And….” Alejandro trailed off and blushed, as though just asking this was embarrassing. “You are coming back tonight, right?”

  Donnie nodded enthusiastically. “Oh God yes.”

  There was no hesitation in Yandro’s smile, but a little one in his question. “Good. Good. And you can spend the night?”

  Donnie kept nodding, thinking that Alejandro smelled spicy and a little sweet and so good, and even better now that he smelled of the bitter tang of Donnie’s come. “I’m dying to spend the night,” he confessed, absolutely open and without guards. Alejandro wanted to have sex! With him! What was to question?

  “Good,” Alejandro said with a smile that was almost shy. “You go shower now, okay? I’ll go get us some breakfast, and you can eat while I’m in.”

  Donnie nodded again, and then blushed when he went to hop out of the bed. “Yeah, I’m… uhm, sort of….”

  And suddenly the odd shyness, the hesitation, was gone from Alejandro’s smile. He leaned forward and whispered into Donnie’s ear.

  “I’ll be touching myself, Donnie, when you get up and walk across the room naked. Will that make it easier for you to be naked in front of me?”

  Donnie swallowed and, unbelievably, felt his cock getting hard. Again. Jesus, all those commercials for little blue pills, and what they really needed to do was bottle whatever was thundering through Donnie’s bloodstream.

  Alejandro smiled, like he knew exactly how it felt, and then grew very sober. “But Donnie, remember me bossing you around?”

  Donnie nodded.

  “You must not touch yourself in the shower. Not any more than to clean yourself, okay? And that goes for the shower you take when you come home too, okay?”

  Well, of course he’d take a shower when he came home. He wasn’t going to climb in bed with Yandro when his balls smelled like Steak ’n’ Sauce, was he?

  So he grinned again, hopped out of bed, and managed a manly, confident strut to the bathroom that connected his room with Alejandro’s. He turned one last time to Alejandro and grinned widely, so happy for a moment his entire heart felt like the sun. It wasn’t until he got to the bathroom that he realized he was still wearing the socks that Alejandro’s grandma had made him.

  Alejandro

  ALEJANDRO watched that fine, muscular ass (Donnie played shortstop in the local junior college) disappear into his bathroom and rolled over and groaned.

  Oh, for fuck’s sake!

  He’d woken up and there had been a man there, and then he’d realized it wasn’t a man, it was Donnie, but he’d felt like a man, and….

  Oh Christ. Whatever. He’d had a hard-on and Donnie had felt so good, and then he’d made those noises. Alejandro still remembered fooling around with his first crush, after his parents had let him come to college in the States. He remembered the noises he’d made had been guarded, strangled, quiet, grunting noises, and that the boy he was with—who had a modicum more experience than Alejandro—had made no noises whatsoever.

  But not Donnie. Donnie made joyful, happy noises, and he was greedy and demanding and said things like “Want!” when he wanted something—and God had he wanted it badly.

  Alejandro came—simply came in his shorts, no hand, mouth, or tight asshole required—just to hear Donnie come gratefully and without inhibition in Alejandro’s mouth.

  And Alejandro, who never swallowed—hell, who never even gave head without a condom—had licked at his bared, tender skin like candy and swallowed down bitter seed like it was orange soda, because it had been Donnie, and it had tasted good, and because the noises saturating Alejandro’s skin like color had been so hot.

  Oh God. And he was coming back. Not only had he woken up in Alejandro’s bed, but they had made lo… had sex, and then Donnie was coming back.

  It was exhilarating. It was terrifying.

  It was a reason to get Donnie’s sister the fuck out of the house!

  It took Alejandro less than a minute to pull on his other pair of sleep pants and run to the kitchen. He ran for the sink first, trying to get a glass of water and wash his face unobtrusively, because he belatedly realized he had that sweet morning encounter imprinted all over his body. He was grateful Chelle sort of ignored him as she worked.

  Chelle was yawning over a big pan of scrambled eggs, sausage, bell peppers, tomatoes, and onions that very well might have spelled out “Fuck Yandro’s Diet, I Want To Eat!” in it, and Yandro wanted to fall to his knees and bless her for it. She looked at him through narrowed eyes, as though she was anticipating some sort of a fight over the food, and Alejandro gave her a toothy grin.

  “What?” she asked suspiciously, and he lowered the wattage just a smidge.

  “You look tired,” he tried, his voice sounding much more formal and, well, insincere than he would probably have wanted.

  “You look disgustingly happy,” she said, bemused, and he flushed.

  “He’s… pleasant.” That was casual, wasn’t it? Her arched eyebrows said it might ha
ve been too casual.

  “He’s my little brother, Yandro,” she said gently. “Are you forgetting that? Pleasant is all nice and good, but pleasant isn’t pleasant when it gets its heart broken.”

  Alejandro blushed some more. He’d been celibate for six months, dammit, and Donnie was supposed to be his reward!

  “I’ll make sure he knows the score,” Alejandro said earnestly, and the unfamiliar look on Chelle’s face made him shudder.

  “I’ll make sure he knows to stay away from you,” she said with a scowl.

  Oh no! If ever being a man-slut was going to come back and bite him on the ass, it wasn’t supposed to be now. Not with Chelle, his friend and confidante and the sister of the man (man, right? Oh God, the man in Alejandro’s arms, he could swear Donnie was a man now!) Alejandro had wanted for oh so long, the man who laughed and brought dog fur into his house and who made the white walls, white carpet, white curtains in his “tastefully” decorated home seem like the perfect backdrop for bright jewel colors and rainbows.

  “Chelle?” Weakness. Wonderful. Alejandro was going to be reduced to begging now? Excellent. Alejandro didn’t beg. He didn’t beg in bed and he didn’t ask favors. He’d had the money and the privilege to get his way for most of his life, but he’d already lived with Chelle for three years. He’d seen the middle-class home she grew up in and watched her and Donnie interact. Money and arrogance weren’t going to do it with her.

  Oh fuck. He was going to have to try honesty!

  “Alejandro?” She was looking at him patiently, and he sighed, frustrated, horny, and wanting to resolve this before Donnie came out of the bathroom all hopeful and happy and jumping around like Betty when it was exercise time.

  “I like him. He’s your brother. I won’t do anything to hurt him, not on purpose, okay?”

  Chelle shook her head and muttered, stalking about the kitchen gathering three plates, checking the toast, and generally talking things over with herself. Finally she looked up (just when the water stopped running) and said, “Look, you know I love you to death, right?”

  Alejandro nodded, suddenly grateful for her good opinion as he hadn’t known he could be. “Yes,” he admitted, “and I care for you also.”

  She grimaced. “You know, I’m not sure if you mean to sound like a dick when you say those things, or if your voice just gets all formal because of the accent or what, but here’s the deal.” She set down the last fork next to the plate on the island in the center of the kitchen, which is where they liked to eat.

  “Yeah?”

  “I know he’s not going to stay all innocent and virginal forever, okay? That’s not fair—I get some, he gets to get some.” She’d had, to Alejandro’s knowledge, a handful of lovers over the past three years. One of them had stayed and was her almost-boyfriend, as she called him, but like Alejandro himself, the dance regimen was almost too rigorous to allow for anything else. But more than that, Chelle had confessed she hadn’t found anyone who made her want to settle down, and Alejandro could understand that too. He’d thought he’d found someone at one point, but, well, how well had that worked out.

  But Chelle was still talking, and Alejandro was still hanging on her every word. “And I knew that you were sleeping in the same bed last night and shit would probably happen. I get that, even though I don’t care how old he is, I don’t want to think of him like that. All I really want to think about him is staying the same kid. I want to think about him trusting people the same way he does now.”

  Oh God. Alejandro thought of Steve’s guileless blue eyes. Steve had walked into Alejandro’s bed knowing exactly what he was getting—and so had been pleased when he left after having gotten it. Donnie… Donnie seemed to expect something larger from him. Donnie expected to stay the night—and well, hell, Alejandro had already given him permission.

  “I’ll be honest,” Alejandro said, meaning it, and Chelle snorted, waving him off.

  “Don’t be honest, Yandro. Be kind. That thing you’ve been doing, where you pull ‘aloof’ on like a cloak? Man, don’t do that to him. Seriously. I love living here—quite frankly, I couldn’t afford to live on my own anywhere but a dump if I left. But I’ll move back to my folks’ house if I have to. You fuck with him, and you’re going to have to find yourself more live-in help, okay?”

  Alejandro looked down at his feet, rubbing his toe in and among the perfectly symmetrical lines formed by the grout holding the tile together.

  “You know I think of you as more than that, right?”

  Chelle nodded at him, her expression mild. “I already told you, right backatcha. But I’m telling you now, he’s my brother. Treat him right.”

  Alejandro was the youngest child of four. The other three were perfect children: his brother had followed their father into business; his sisters had married suitable men, produced children, and said very little as their husbands worked the business. He couldn’t imagine growing this impassioned over any of them.

  But… but… but he never let anyone stay the night.

  Well, until this morning, that is.

  He didn’t believe it himself when he heard his own voice, the accent trembling off his tongue, stammering, “I will. I promise I will, but, uhm, could you do me a favor anyway?”

  She raised skeptical eyebrows and Alejandro smiled and felt like a cheesy, skeezy pervert, when he’d actually planned to come out here and offer her something so fabulous she’d feel like a lottery winner.

  “Uhm….” Oh God, this sounded lame when he said it. “How would you like two days at a spa?”

  Chelle’s eyes widened. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Two days. We don’t have to rehearse again for two days—how about two days, that spa up in Grass Valley. My treat.” He plastered a smile on his face and brazened it out, thinking she was going to brain him with the sauté pan and he’d totally deserve it for trying to ship her off to nirvana while he molested her little brother.

  He had severely underestimated the neglected princess inside his practical roommate.

  “A spa?” she asked, wide-eyed. “Really?”

  His smile relaxed a fraction. “Yeah. Uhm. Yeah. I’ll book you right now.”

  Donnie was sitting down to breakfast when he came back from making the phone call, and the way the poor boy hung his head and looked, red-faced, down into his scrambled eggs, told Alejandro all he needed to know about how that conversation with his sister had gone. The kid looked up at him with a whole lot of hope spangling out of his eyes as he came through the doorway, and Alejandro had a sudden revelation.

  Oh shit. His entire body had been thundering for Donnie and this night, which he had, in the span of a half an hour, built up to be the be-all and end-all of his sexual experiences. But what Chelle had been trying to tell him, and he’d half-understood, all made sense now.

  He had responsibilities if he wanted to be Donnie’s king and conqueror.

  He smiled into those hopeful eyes without even thinking about it, because you just couldn’t help but smile when Donnie did, and walked up to where he sat, bending down and kissing his temple softly before taking his seat at the table.

  “How’re the eggs?”

  Donnie looked at them mournfully. “Better when she cooks them in butter.”

  Chelle sighed and Alejandro actually felt himself bloat at the thought of it. “My God,” he said reverently, “if I’d known I could have butter I might have tried out for sports instead!”

  Donnie grinned widely. “Well, you do get to see a lot more men naked, that is for sure!”

  Chelle started choking on her eggs and the pressure in Alejandro’s chest eased up a little. There were benefits to being Donnie’s king and master that apparently had nothing to do with the ripple of muscles in his thighs or the hot throb of his cock in Alejandro’s hand.

  ALEJANDRO kissed Donnie goodbye as he ran out the door for work, and the boy tasted even better after brushing his teeth and eating Chelle’s wonderful breakfast.

 
Donnie looked at him then, seriously, as he was getting into his little sparkly-green Toyota, the paint scuffed on the top from too many gas-station auto-washes by its previous owner.

  “Thank you,” he said, that fearless, open grin of his cranking down a notch.

  “For what?” Alejandro wanted to reach out and touch his hair. It was a silly impulse, but it was just an amazing color of gold in the sunlight.

  “For being kind. For making this nice. For kissing me and being kind. You know. For making it not….” He thought hard for words. “For making it one of those nice pictures, the beautiful ones, and not just some guy with his ass stretched by another guy with a cock ring. For being a superhero instead of a superdouchebag. Just for being a good guy.”

  Oh God. Donnie thought he was a superhero. He was a good guy. Alejandro felt a moment of panic.

  “I’m not always,” he said with embarrassment, thinking of two years of one-night-one-offs. Thinking about how his last relationship had ended. “I’m… I’ve been the bad guy before.”

  He’d showered by now and was wearing a tank top and cargo shorts, and he put his hands in the back pockets of his cargo shorts, wishing he didn’t feel so vulnerable in front of his roommate’s little brother.

  But Donnie—Donnie apparently didn’t know how to do mad, or recriminatory or judgmental. “Yeah?” Donnie smiled and raised his eyebrows a little, suggestively. “Maybe you can show me the good parts of being bad. Because that would be cool!”

  And, oh, Alejandro had to kiss him again as he sat in the car, and his uplifted face in the beginning (and unforgiving) heat of the day was about the most beautiful thing Alejandro had ever seen. Hell. He still had freckles on his nose.

  ALEJANDRO did many of the things he would usually do on a day off. He went back to sleep for a little, washed his clothes, washed his sheets (although he did stop for a completely undignified, totally kinky moment to touch the stain Donnie had left there, and then to savor the ache in his groin at the thought of that moment waking up), did some shopping (since Chelle hadn’t had a chance to), and played with the dog.