“What the hell?”
“Just a break-in. Happens all the time—you know that. They didn’t get much, just an old computer.”
“Christ. You all right? It can’t have been very long ago.”
“It was just last week, but I’m fine; I wasn’t home, so no big deal.” I didn’t look at him as I pulled the groceries out of the bags. Then his hands were on my shoulders, turning me gently. “You’re still upset about it. Not sleeping?”
I shook my head. I didn’t want to admit I’d been sleeping on the couch most nights, so I could hear if anyone came to the door.
“It would be strange if you weren’t affected by it.” He kissed my forehead and said, “It will get better, I promise. It just takes time. Anyway,” he added with a grin, “maybe I can help you sleep a little better tonight.”
I smiled back, grateful and a bit astonished by the understanding. “Thanks.”
“I am a little surprised, though. This is a nice building, and you have to buzz in visitors. But you’re right. It does happen a lot anyway.” He let me go and started looking around. “This is a great place.”
“Yes. I’m buying it from my grandmother; she wanted the place to go to me and not to my…” I stopped, not wanting to get into that, and then went on. “The payments go to help pay the bills for the nursing home, so it works out well for both of us. It’s a decent size for a two-bedroom, and there’s that little alcove that I use for an office. The bedroom with the open door is mine; the other is my grandmother’s. I’ve stored some of her things in there, in case she can come home some day.”
He wandered into the living room, eyeing the worn and basic furnishings that I had never bothered to update. Only a couple of photographs saved the off-white walls from appearing completely barren. True, I had taken a few pictures and knickknacks and put them in my grandmother’s room. But there was never very much. I hadn’t actually thought about it before, but it seemed there had always been a slight air of quiet sadness about the place. Perhaps my grandparents had never completely recovered from the elopement of their only daughter and her subsequent rootless lifestyle. I’m sure it wasn’t the life they had planned for her.
Recalling Matt’s small apartment, full of photographs and family mementos, really brought home the sparseness of these rooms. I’m sure he saw the contrast too, but he didn’t say anything.
As soon as he spotted the two photographs on the wall, he went straight to them. “Are these your grandparents?”
I nodded. “They bought this place not too long after they were married, almost sixty years ago. The neighborhood has seen a lot of changes during that time. But my grandpa always took good care of the apartment.”
He moved to the other photograph, and I felt my stomach knot up. “This has got to be your mother. She’s very pretty. It’s an old picture though, isn’t it? She looks so young. You don’t have anything more recent?”
“No.” He waited, but I didn’t add any explanation, just started scrambling eggs.
We fixed a big breakfast and did the dishes together. I gave Art a call to let him know I was fine and that no, I wasn’t mad at him for calling Matt. He sounded happy about that, and I realized it had to have been a difficult decision for him to make the call.
I did a few things around the apartment and got the laundry started. We were quiet, not feeling the need for a lot of small talk. He watched silently while I pulled my latest HIV test results out of a drawer and set the paper on the desk.
Even with clean test results, I knew he would agree we couldn’t give up protection altogether; not yet. But we could relax the rules a little. I thought about tasting him—really tasting him and not flavored latex—as I gazed absently down at the desk. My imagination ran wild, and a little shiver of anticipation went through my belly.
I glanced up to find him staring at me, a faint flush coloring his cheeks. An answering warmth flooded my own face and traveled down through my stomach. He knew exactly what I’d been thinking. I met his eyes and then slowly licked my lips, wetting them.
Then I left to check on the laundry. I couldn’t help smiling as I heard the faint groan from behind me.
He was sitting on the couch, reading the newspaper, when I announced that I had finished everything I needed to do. I sat next to him, and he put his arms around me and pulled me close.
“You’re sure?” he asked teasingly. “I wouldn’t want to interfere with anything, now.”
I kissed my way up his neck and nipped his earlobe. “I think I can schedule a little recreational time into my usual routine today.” I swung one leg over his to straddle his lap and face him; my thighs squeezed his. I pressed against him. “Oh, look at you. You’re already hard as a rock.”
“I’ve been hard since I first saw you sitting at my kitchen table this morning.”
I sat back a little on his thighs and looked at him. I didn’t know how to say it, but felt I needed to try. “Thanks.”
He raised his eyebrows. “For what?”
“For…for everything. For taking care of me last night. For giving me time today to recover and to…just get comfortable.”
“Don’t think it was easy,” he said, his voice low. “Every time I look at you, I want to throw you against the wall and take you like I did that night in the alley. Every time you lean over to pick up something off the floor, I want to grab you and bend you over the couch. When you got on your knees to look under the chair for something, I wanted to take hold of your hair and push…”
I was practically frantic by this time, his low, sexy voice driving me crazy. Rocking against him, I slid my hands up under his shirt, then rubbed and pulled his nipples. He writhed under me, breathing hard. I shut him up with a fierce kiss and then said, “Are you all talk? Do something about it!”
He flipped me onto my back on the couch and ground against me. “What do you want me to do? What do you need, baby?”
“What I need is your dick up my ass. Now!”
He snorted with sudden laughter. “Okay, now there’s my Friday Night Jamie!”
I pulled his shirt off and took off my own, needing skin-to-skin contact. I wanted more access to that beautiful chest, those tight abs. Our hands wandered, moving, stroking. I kissed him again and thrust up against him.
He moaned. “I’m going to come in my pants if you keep that doing that.”
I twisted out from under him, grabbed his hand, and pulled him to the bedroom. After pushing him onto the bed, I pulled his pants off and squirmed out of my own. He pulled me down, and then I was on my back, his long naked body stretched out full length on top of me. The warmth and heaviness pushed me into the mattress, and his thick, smooth cock ground against mine, making me whimper and thrust upward, trying to get more pressure.
Then he propped himself up on his arms, pushing my legs apart with his knees. His mouth lingered on my neck. Then he bit and licked his way down to my nipples, lingering for a moment, nipping and tonguing the sensitive nubs until I squirmed with a sensation that was ninety percent pleasure and ten percent bordering on pain. He left my nipples to trail his tongue down to my belly button as his warm hands stroked the insides of my thighs. My hips moved, thrusting and begging.
His mouth lingered right above my cock while his hands pushed my thighs farther apart. His fingers stroked my crease, lightly pressing against my opening but not penetrating. “Tease,” I gasped. “Matt, please…”
“Lube?” he murmured against my skin.
I reached for the table drawer next to the bed and pulled out a tube and the little foil packet. He took them from me, slipped on a condom, and then I felt slicked fingers on my crease again, one pushing through to penetrate my hole. My back arched. “More, damn it.”
He added more fingers and pushed in hard, and I rocked against his hand. His other hand gripped my cock. He licked the head. I thought I would shoot through the roof between the sensations coming from both directions. I moaned, “I’m not going to last. Please, baby, I wan
t you in me.”
“Mmm… I just like to hear you beg for it.” He put his hands under my knees, lifted them up, and spread me wide. He rubbed a finger against my totally exposed hole, and I writhed, trying to get more penetration. “I love that view,” he said. “So many things I want to do to you, but I can’t wait any more.”
“Thank God for that,” I muttered.
And with that he gripped his own cock and slid it into me slowly. It was an exquisite sensation, that slow, slick thrust, gradually filling me up with a slight burn and a lot of pleasure, but still not enough.
I could see him looking down, watching himself disappearing into me. Then his ass flexed as he thrust hard and buried himself to the balls. He held still for a long moment as we both got used to the sensations. “Okay?”
“Yes,” I gasped. “God yes. Move, baby. Fuck me hard.”
And he moved, hips thrusting, snapping back and forth. My legs slid up along his back, and we pressed tightly together, my cock getting some friction from his body but needing more. His hands caressed my arms, and then he pinned my wrists next to my head as his mouth came down hard on mine, kissing, sucking, and biting my lips.
I tried to loosen my hands from his grip. My cock ached for more attention. He didn’t let go, and I moaned in pleasure and frustration. He changed the angle of his thrusts until he hit my prostate. I cried out at the electric sensation, and my back arched as he hit the spot repeatedly. He let one wrist go, but his hand moved down to wrap tightly around my cock before I could get there. I fucked his calloused hand in time to the thrusts in my ass, and then his lips were on mine again as his tongue thrust deeply into my mouth in rhythm with his thrusts. Both hands now free from his grip, I spread them flat against the middle of his back so I could feel the bunching and releasing of those beautiful muscles under the hot, sweat-slicked skin.
As I fiercely returned his kiss, I felt the pleasure start to build from deep within my belly. Almost desperately, I reached for something to hold on to. I dug my fingers into his shoulders and clung to him tightly. Burying my face against his neck, I closed my eyes, and the orgasm burst from me in long, slow waves. As I cried out, I spilled what felt like gallons over his hand in a series of sharp spasms. My ass gripped him tightly during the intense orgasm, and I felt him stiffen and groan, his cock pulsating deep inside me.
After a long moment, he collapsed, panting, just managing to fall off to the side and not right on me. Trying to catch my breath, I snuggled against his side, and his arms went around me. Still breathing hard, he had his face pushed against my shoulder as he recovered. I felt comfortable and warm. As my mind drifted toward sleep, I wondered how I could feel so at ease sharing my bed with someone else. I had never brought anyone home; had never felt secure enough, either emotionally or physically. If things had ended differently with Keith… But they hadn’t, and I finally accepted that everything had truly worked out for the best. Matt had a solid, comfortable presence that relaxed me. From our very first encounter, I had felt at ease with him but had discounted the feeling, too distracted by my strict notions of the “ideal” man. I dozed off with a smile on my face.
Much later, I climbed out of the darkness to feel a wet, warm sensation down my abdomen. I opened my eyes to see Matt with a washcloth, cleaning us both up. “You don’t have to do that. I can…”
“Just getting you ready for round two. Still have lots of things planned.”
I was already semierect just thinking about those things. He threw the cloth back into the bathroom and knelt next to me on the bed as I lay flat on my back. He ran his hands up my abdomen, back down my sides, and down my legs. Cupping my balls, he gave them a gentle squeeze, and then ran his thumb up under the head of my hardening cock.
“Matt,” I whispered, pushing up into his hand.
He leaned down to kiss my lips and then kissed that sensitive spot just under my ear. “You are so gorgeous, all laid out for me like this. I just want to eat you up.”
And with that he began working his way downward, sucking at the tender hollow between my collarbones, kissing and nibbling down my chest, and then pausing to gently lick at my nipples and ease away some of the soreness that still lingered there from his earlier attack.
After trailing his tongue down my stomach, he reached my now swollen cock. I wouldn’t have thought I could ache so badly after the recent mind-blowing orgasm, but fluid leaked from the reddened head in anticipation.
He ran his tongue down the slit, licking up the small pearls as I whimpered and twisted my fingers into his hair, urging him to take me in. Instead, he sucked my balls into his mouth, paying careful attention to each one as he took his time. He seemed to enjoy listening to me groan in frustration.
His tongue slid down my shaft, and his warm mouth enveloped me. I thrust up, trying to get in as deep as I could. He sucked and worked his tongue until I trembled with the intensity. Pushing two fingers into me, he began fucking me with them while he sucked hard.
Another minute or two of that, and my orgasm exploded from me as I cried out his name.
He cleaned up every drop with his tongue while I moaned with aftershocks. When he finally came up to kiss me, I could taste myself in his mouth. After I got my breath, I reached for him, but he stopped me. “No need, babe. Already done.”
I lay back against him. I ran my hands down his arms, then held his hands and brought them up for gentle kisses on the palms. He shivered as I kissed and stroked the insides of his thick wrists. “I love your wrists. They’re so strong. You don’t see that very often. Is it because of the karate practice? I saw the pictures of you in your gi.”
“Yes, a lot of the exercises require strong arms, wrists, and hands.”
“Lucky me,” I murmured and drifted off again.
We didn’t go out that night; couldn’t even seem to get out of bed. I know I couldn’t get enough of him, and he seemed to feel the same way. I could have made a quick dinner, but we decided it would be easier to just order pizza. That would maximize the time we could spend in bed.
We talked a little over dinner. He told me about his family. The young woman who looked like him was his sister, Gina, and his parents were Rosa and Jack. Gina had a five-year-old son and a baby on the way. Her husband, Robert, worked as a planner for the city.
Rosa was of Italian descent, and I said, “That’s where you get those beautiful dark eyes. They look just like hers.” He smiled down at his pizza, looking a little embarrassed. I had a feeling not too many people had told this black belt ex-cop that he had beautiful eyes. “It’s none of my business, so just tell me to shut up if you want. But how are your parents with you being gay? It sounds like they accept it all right?”
“They do now,” he answered. “My mother is Catholic, although my father never converted. I knew I was gay for a long time before I told anyone, because I knew how Mama would react. But when I was in high school, she started fixing me up with her friends’ daughters, and I couldn’t stand it anymore. So I told her. Of course, she made me see the priest. The church considers homosexuality a mental illness, you know. I went to several sessions, but I knew nothing would change, and it was tearing me up inside. If I hadn’t had Gina to talk to during that time, I would have gone crazy. She has always accepted me, no matter what. She says that’s what big sisters are supposed to do, but I know how lucky I am to have her.”
I played with my pizza for a moment. “And what did your dad think?” I was afraid to hear the answer. If his dad had reacted anything like mine…
“My dad is the one who finally put a stop to it. He loves my mother, and he never interfered with her faith or the way she wanted to raise us, but I think he knew I was about ready to pack up my bags and run off. One day he just said, ‘Rosa, the boy is how God made him. Leave him alone, or we’re going to lose him forever.’” Matt made his voice deep and rough when he imitated his father, making me laugh.
Matt sometimes got together with all of them at his parents’ house for bi
rthdays, holidays, or just the occasional Sunday dinner. Apparently there were aunts, uncles, and cousins involved as well. I shook my head. “I can’t imagine having that much family, and you even live in the same city where you grew up and went to school. That’s amazing.”
“Is it?” He sounded hesitant. “Last night, you started to say something about your dad. It was when we were talking about drugs.”
“Did I? I don’t remember that.” I got up and started to put the leftover pizza in the fridge.
“Not surprising, I guess. Do they live around here, your parents?”
“No, they move around a lot.” I threw away the pizza box and headed for the bathroom.
When I came out, he was waiting to pull me in close. “I don’t mean to push, baby. I want to know all about you and your family, but only when you’re ready to tell me.”
I leaned against him. “You’ve got to be the most patient man I’ve ever met.” I tightened my arms around him as I nibbled his neck. “Ready for round three? Or is it four?”
Chapter Seven
I limped around the kitchen the next morning, nursing a bruised knee. Apparently sex in the shower was better in my imagination than in reality, at least when the shower was as small as mine.
“You okay? Want me to look at that knee?”
“No, it’s fine. Just a little bruise. Sit down.” I took a seat after putting pancakes and scrambled eggs on the table. “I have to leave soon. The home is a nice place, the best one we could afford, and Grandma has some cousins in the area who visit her. But it’s in Passaic, so that’s a long commute for me.”
“Then why don’t you let me drive you? I’d like to meet your grandmother.”
The offer floored me. I don’t know why; I should have expected it. He seemed to want to spend as much time with me as possible. But to visit an old folks’ home when it wasn’t even his relative?
“Unless you’re tired of me already?” Then his eyes widened. “Oh, does she know you’re gay? Maybe you don’t want to take me. I could pretend to be just a friend who drove you?” He sounded so hopeful that I had to smile.
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