by Walker, Max
I needed his cock boring through me, not his gaze.
Jonah licked his lips, smiled seductively, and grabbed my head before pushing in for an explosive kiss. He probed my mouth with his tongue as he maneuvered me so that I was lying down on the bed. He climbed on top of me, his weight on me feeling like fucking heaven. His cock pulsed against mine. My groin grew wet with his precome as he rocked his hips, rubbing himself on me as we kissed.
Then his legs pushed between mine and separated them, driving a moan straight up from my chest. Something had switched in Jonah; an alpha side was beginning to show, and it melted my every thought.
He reached down and pushed his cock down so that it pressed under my balls, against my ass. He pushed forward, pressing himself against me, teasing me, harder and harder. His tongue danced with mine, my hands roaming all over his lithe body, feeling the soft rise of muscles, the curves of his shoulders, the arch of his lower back as he thrust against me.
“Inside,” I groaned into the kiss. “Please.”
Jonah had me begging. I never said please, not once. And here I was, lifting my ass from the bed, begging him inside, my hole twitching, my body crying out in any way it could to have Jonah fuck me.
“You want this, huh?” He reached down and aimed his cock so that the head pushed against my hole. I fisted the sheets, pushing my ass onto him, wishing I could just take him in. “Huh, Fox?”
“Fuck yes, I want it.” I could barely see straight. He continued to rub himself against me, his fire-filled gaze aimed down as he spit. He worked the saliva all up and down his cock before he brought two fingers and pressed them against me.
My eyes opened wide. I dropped my head back as his finger slipped in, wet with his saliva. I gasped as he sunk in deeper. He curved his finger inside me, pressed upward, exploring me, pushing at me from the inside. It felt like ecstasy and lightning mixed together. My toes curled, my tongue locked. I couldn’t speak, only writhe as Jonah worked another finger inside me.
I looked to him, his eyes still turned downward, his face lit up like a fucking spotlight. He had a smoldering smile on his face as he explored me, fingering me for the first time. He was jerking himself off with his free hand, his thick cock dripping, and I had to look away, feeling myself already getting close.
“Jonah, fu—” I couldn’t finish my expletive. Jonah had found my prostate, and he pressed down with enough pressure that had my cock spurt out a mixture of precome and actual come. I was so full and ready to burst, I had to get Jonah between my legs, his cock inside me.
I pulled back, Jonah’s fingers popping out of me. I instantly felt empty but knew exactly what to fill my need with. I rolled over and opened my nightstand. Inside, I grabbed the lube and condom.
Jonah was kneeling on the bed, the light playing off his body, his hands working that delicious cock of his. I couldn’t help but get down and pop it in my mouth, setting the lube and condom aside for a second. I arched my ass up in the air and invited him to play as I tried fitting him down my throat.
He took the invitation, leaning over and rubbing my hole as I blew him. I arched some more, opening myself to him, his finger sliding in and making us both moan loudly. He started to finger fuck my ass while I gagged on his size, loving how he tasted in my mouth while his finger slid in and out of me, his palm slapping against my ass, the sound of us filling the room.
“Come here,” I said, pulling off Jonah’s cock. I sat back up, admiring Jonah and his sexy body before I slid the condom on him and spread the lube. He dropped his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing as I gave him a few strokes.
I let him go and moved onto the center of the bed, where I got on my hands and knees. I arched my back again, exposing myself to Jonah, begging for him without saying a word.
The mattress shifted as Jonah moved, positioning himself behind me. Our breaths were ragged and desperate.
My hard dick swung gently in the air. I went to stroke it but stopped myself, knowing I’d blow before Jonah even got a chance to put the tip in.
I felt him rub against me, onto me, and he slapped his cock against my ass. I was seconds from clicking into drill instructor mode and shouting at him to put it in.
I didn’t need to. Jonah must have wanted it as badly as me. He pressed the head of his cock against my hole and thrust his hips forward. It was fast and had me crying out with a mixture of pleasure and pain as my body adjusted to having him inside me.
“Sorry, was that too much?”
“A little slower,” I said, gritting my teeth, knowing he wasn’t even balls deep yet.
He paused, leaving himself halfway inside me, his hands slowly moving up and down my sides, as though he were worshipping me. I let out another moan, my cock throbbing and dropping a rope of precome down onto the white bedsheets, darkening the fabric where it pooled.
And then Jonah pushed in a little deeper, sliding in farther, my hole stretching around him, my body filling with a fire that I knew would never be extinguished. Jonah had woken something inside me.
I cried out as he thrust harder, his fingers digging into my hips now. This cry was driven by pleasure, and that was clear. “More, Jonah.” I dropped my head, my balls tight against my body as Jonah began to plunge into me, driving his hips forward.
Soon, my body had accustomed to his size, craved it. The burn was replaced completely and totally by pure pleasure as Jonah started to fuck me like the animal his growls were beginning to resemble.
“Yes, yes!” I shouted, feeling his balls slapping against me, the sharp sound of skin on skin cracking through the air. Sweat beaded on my forehead, across my chest. My cock continued to leak like a broken faucet. I’d never been this wet before.
He was slamming into me now, both of us grunting and growling and shouting like primal animals. Thoughts melded together, emotions were all ravaged. All I could think about was Jonah’s cock filling me up, my ass slamming back onto him, our cries of pleasure turning into one of the best songs I’d ever fucking heard.
This was bliss. Total, absolute, undoubtable bliss.
“I’m… gonna… come,” I said between thrusts, feeling myself reach the point of no return. My vision clouded, my eyes snapping shut. I hadn’t even touched myself once, and my cock was already jerking wildly in the air as I erupted with shot after shot of sticky hot come. My ass twitched and spasmed around Jonah as he continued fucking me, his wild grunts and animal sounds telling me he was reaching his edge, too.
He started to convulse as the orgasm hit him, his hips moving erratically as he unloaded inside of me.
I collapsed on the bed, my legs shaking and giving way, my entire body feeling like I’d run a marathon and was experiencing a runner’s high times a thousand. Jonah collapsed next to me, a soft smile on his red face, his hair sweaty and curled down across his forehead.
He looked like the happiest fucking guy on the planet.
And I felt like the happiest fucking guy on the planet.
***
“This is some great wine, isn’t it?” Jonah asked, swirling his glass. We were sitting out in my backyard. The night air was still warm from the hot summer day but an ocean breeze was keeping us fresh and cool. It was late, but that didn’t matter.
Nothing much mattered as long as Jonah was around.
“Good job choosing it. I normally never get wine from the farmer’s market, but this one’s changing my mind.”
“Cheers,” said Jonah, tilting his glass in my direction. I clinked my glass against his, the two of us grinning as we drank and sat back in our chairs, looking out at the dark backyard.
“You’d probably be able to grow some good fruit trees back here. My parents have a mango tree that’s constantly feeding my addiction. Want me to get you a seed?”
“I’d love to enable more of your mango trouble, but I’m terrible with anything green. That’s why you don’t see any plants around here. I’m surprised the grass is even growing.”
Jonah laughed at that. “
All right, well I’ll keep it alive, then. I think it’d be cool. Plus, a tree back here would attract all kinds of birds.”
“You’ve got a point there.” It didn’t escape me that Jonah was talking about keeping a mango tree alive in my backyard, something that wasn’t exactly a temporary thing.
“Think about it.”
I sipped the red wine, tasting the notes of cherry and spice on my tongue, a lazy smile on my lips. Above us, a couple of stars twinkled their way through the city’s light pollution.
“Life’s weird, huh?” Jonah looked to me, smirking, his eyes glittering. “The timing of everything. How people come into your life when you need them the most. It’s so weird when I think about it.”
“It’s very weird.” I chuckled and drank some more wine. “I never believed in things that are ‘meant to be,’ but I don’t know, I’m feeling like that’s changing. I’m starting to think some things really are meant to be. And I think so many tiny little things had to fall in place perfectly to make the thing that’s ‘meant to be’ happen. It’s almost kind of miraculous.”
“It is.” The look in Jonah’s gaze made me wonder what exactly he found miraculous right now.
We lapsed into a comfortable silence, the sound of the night adding enough background noise. I checked my watch.
Twelve thirty. Late nights had turned into a common occurrence with Jonah, and that would normally make me a grumpy guy, but not in this case. It only meant that there wasn’t enough time in the day for us two when we were together.
“Did I… you know… do a good job?”
I already knew exactly what Jonah was so bashfully referencing. “Are you kidding me? You fucked my brains to Canada and back. Of course you did a good job.”
We broke into laughs. “All right, well, when you put it like that.”
“Seriously, Jonah, I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had.” I wagged a finger in the air. “Nah, fuck that, it was definitely the best sex I’ve ever had.”
“Really?” Jonah swirled his wineglass. “Same here.”
And then the glass wasn’t in Jonah’s hand anymore; instead it was flying down toward the hard concrete of my patio. A loud shatter followed by a loud curse.
“Ah, fuck, I’m so sorry.”
Red wine was spreading across the gray floor. I was already up, grabbing a roll of paper towel I had left out earlier when I was cleaning. “Don’t worry about it. Totally fine.” I dropped a barrier of paper around the wine to stop it from spreading and went to go get the broom and dustpan in the storage closet.
Jonah was tearing off more paper towel and using it to push some of the glass toward a central pile.
“Don’t worry, Jonah, you’re gonna cut your—”
A sharp intake of breath. Jonah shot up, putting his bleeding thumb up to his mouth. I could see the frustration in his eyes along with pain, but it wasn’t from the cut. He was close to crying.
It tore my heart apart. I set aside the broom and walked over to him. “You okay? Come, let’s wash it up.”
“I’m such a fuckup, Fox. I’m a mess.”
“No, you’re not. Stop saying that about yourself. Jonah, you’ve proven to be a man I can not only respect, but look up to. There aren’t that many of you out there, so stop counting yourself out. You’re not a fuckup. You’re not a mess.”
“I… I didn’t always feel this way. I mean… fuck’s sake, I was promoted as a cop faster than anyone. I used to have confidence… I used to, but it got worse after I was shot. I get trembles sometimes. You’ve seen. You’ve helped me… Sometimes I get shaky, and other times I just kind of lose grip control. Things slip out of my hands. It used to be way worse, but I had really great doctors. Good physical therapy.”
This was hard for Jonah. I could feel my chest getting tighter for him, seeing the raw emotion on his face, in his trembling hands, which were now fists at his side, a paper towel wrapped around his thumb and already growing red.
“I think my biggest fear really is of things getting worse… Doctors say it probably won’t, but… still. It’s not something I like to think about.”
“More proof of how far you’ve come. You’re a fucking warrior, Jonah.”
“Yeah, well, that’s just it… I’ve got this thing. I don’t like people seeing me as weak. I hate it. And, well… sometimes I can’t even hold up my cell phone. So yeah. I keep it as quiet as I can…”
I did something then that seemed to surprise him. I reached out, a hand on his arm, my thumb making small circles on his bare skin.
“Thank you for talking with me about it, Jonah. Just know, I don’t think you ever need to beat yourself up again. The world does a good enough job of trying to beat us up, let’s not make it easier, all right? You’ve got a shit ton of accomplishments to be proud of.” I put a hand under his chin, lifted his face so his eyes were on mine. “You’re a black-belt-wearing baby-food model, that’s impressive enough as it is.”
That got Jonah laughing, a little bit of that lightness coming back into the air.
“Come,” I said, “let’s wash that cut. Then I’ll clean up out here and we can head to bed.”
“Thanks, Fox.”
“I’m thinking you can crash in my bed tonight?” We entered my living room, and I tried to stay as nonchalant as possible even though what I was asking brought with it some big implications.
“Yeah, that’d be good.” I could hear the smile on Jonah’s voice as he walked behind me.
“All right, good times.”
I’m sure he heard the smile in mine.
27 Jonah Brightly
Four Days Later
It was a stormy day out, which was completely opposite to how I was feeling. The pregnant gray clouds rumbled with hidden thunder as they rolled over in fast, furious bursts from the ocean. The downpours had been sporadic throughout the morning but were more consistent as the day went by.
Currently, rain pounded hard against the car windows as Fox looked for a parking spot as close to our destination as possible, the windshield wipers working on overtime trying to keep the eyeline clear. A lightning bolt clapped against the sky, lighting up the entire area in a stark white light, the loud and crackling boom following seconds after.
Another reminder to how different I felt on the inside. It was like a Broadway musical in my head, with colorful songs and magical characters, all dancing and having a blast. Slightly corny, but I didn’t fight it, I was on cloud nine. My hand was currently on Fox’s thigh, my thumb rubbing over his jeans, everything feeling so damn right.
Things felt profoundly different in the days after having come out for the first time, and after having Fox underneath me, our bodies reaching new heights at the same time as we came together.
I couldn’t really pinpoint exactly what felt different, but maybe that was because it all felt different? There was a special glow to everything. It was easier than ever to hold my head high, to make eye contact with random people on the street, and to smile at them. It was easier to keep eye contact with myself in the mirror. Everything in the world was right. Things were okay.
No, forget that. They were so much better than just “okay.” This was… fuck, it was magnificent. I felt so good. I had woken up the past couple of days and literally pinched myself, making sure that having Fox’s arms around me every morning since coming out wasn’t just a fever dream.
I even bawled in the shower one day. I’d been by myself and was overcome with a deep sense of rightness. Like it was all happening the way it was meant to be. I had come out to two people, and the reactions had been exactly what I needed from them. There were still hurdles to jump, but that would all come later. In the shower that night, I cried because of happiness and not because of fear. That was a first for me, which seemed to have been a trend since the week had started.
Lots of firsts, this week.
“All right, I think this is the closest we’re getting.” Fox looked out the window. I followed his gaze. It was
hard to see, but we were only down the street from the hotel we were meeting Dylan and his partners at. They said their house was currently getting renovated, so they were staying indefinitely at the Fontainebleau, a five-star hotel famous for its opulence.
We each readied our umbrellas and set our sights on the hotel. Outside, we got under our umbrellas and hurried to the covered valet station, our umbrellas not doing much against the torrential rain that was falling at a sideways angle. We entered into the grand lobby looking like wet Labradors, our pants soaking wet from the knee down, our shirts also wet from the rain.
We looked at each other and laughed. The front desk concierge offered to keep our umbrellas for us and asked if we needed a blow-dryer. I checked my watch and saw we got here fifteen minutes before our scheduled meeting. We took her up on the offer and ended up blow-drying our hair in one of the back rooms behind the front desk.
No wonder they were rated five stars.
Once we were dry, we went back into the beautifully decorated lobby, past the white marble columns and dangling chandeliers that looked like crystal waterfalls, and toward the wall of elevators.
Before calling the elevator, Fox turned to me. “This is a going to be a little unpredictable. I don’t know how they’ll react once they realize the evidence is pointing in their direction.”
“I’ve got your back, and you’ve got mine. Whatever happens, we’ll be good. The practice questions we went over with Andrew helped. If we stick to those, they might not even realize the targets shifting.”
Fox nodded. I felt confident this interview would go smoothly, especially since we had clicked right into preparation mode the second it was scheduled, but like Fox said, the situation was unpredictable. I didn’t feel as in danger as I did walking into Graffiti Graveyard, that was for sure, but I’d seen some desperate people do some desperate things when they felt their backs hit the wall.
The elevator took us up to the executive suites, where a security guard escorted us to Dylan’s door. He knocked for us and we waited. By the five-minute mark, I heard someone undoing the locks on the door. The heavy door opened, Dylan Rose standing there in a dull pink shirt with pineapples playfully printed all around it, his bright blue swim trunks popping against the pink.
