by J. M. Snyder
Alan squirms as Jim nips at the bud, sending jolts of electric lust shooting through him. With a knowing look, Jim says, “You can wiggle all you want but I know you like this. Your dick’s practically poking through your pants and into my belly button.”
“I’m a bit sensitive there,” Alan starts, but his words dissolve into a breathless gasp when Jim’s teeth close over his nipple. “Sweet Jesus Lord!”
“Feels good, doesn’t it?”
Jim rubs his chin through Alan’s chest hair and turns his attention to the other nip. Licking down the hair around it, Jim nibbles on it until it, too, is hard and erect. Alan’s cock aches in his trousers, throbbing where Jim presses down against it.
Suddenly Jim sits back again, tugging at Alan’s undershirt. “This needs to come off. Right now.”
Alan sits up and lets Jim push his shirt off his arms and onto the bed. Then Jim pulls up his undershirt, and this time Alan raises his arms. The shirt is tossed unceremoniously aside as Jim leans into Alan, their bare chests rubbing against each other as they kiss. Jim’s arms are on Alan’s shoulders, and he runs a hand up into Alan’s hair, fisting his fingers in it. With a gentle tug, Jim pulls back Alan’s head and kisses his chin.
A trail of tiny kisses trace the curve of Alan’s jaw, then dip under his chin and down his neck to the hollow of his throat. As Jim licks along his collarbone, Alan moans and wraps his arms around Jim’s waist, digging into pliant skin as he fingers the bony knobs of Jim’s spine. He leans back, pulling Jim with him.
But when Alan’s down on the bed, Jim slips from his arms and climbs off his legs to lie alongside him. Propping himself up with one arm, he stares hungrily at Alan but doesn’t speak.
Self-conscious, Alan asks, “What? My hair and makeup a mess?”
A grin breaks through Jim’s serious mask. “You look fine. Amazing, in fact.” His gaze roves over Alan’s features, as if he isn’t sure what he wants to taste next.
Raising up on his elbows, Alan leans over and helps him out by planting a quick kiss on his lips. “Why’d you stop then, eh?”
The laughter fades from Jim’s eyes, and the look he gives Alan is so earnest and open, so raw, as if he’s unlocked his heart to give Alan a glimpse into his soul. “Look—”
Alan sighs. “I get it. I do. You had a great evening, you really like me, but—”
“Can you let me talk?” Jim asks. “Don’t put words in my mouth. Yes, I had a great evening. Yes, I really like you. There is no but.”
Alan isn’t quite so sure. “What is it, then? Why’d you stop? I thought we were getting on brilliantly.”
“We were,” Jim admits. “We are. It’s just that—”
“Which is another way of saying but,” Alan points out.
Jim rolls his eyes. “Keep interrupting me and I’m going to have to kiss you quiet.”
With a smile of his own, Alan says, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s just that,” Jim continues, giving Alan a warning look, “I know this is technically our first date, but it doesn’t feel like that to me.”
“Me either,” Alan murmurs. He knows what Jim means.
“It feels like we’ve been building up to this for weeks,” Jim says. “We started chatting at the café what, how long ago? Then we saw each other whenever I brought Brooks home after curfew. Just lately we’ve been talking for hours every night. I feel like I know you already, like we jumped past the first few awkward dates and are already comfortable with each other. Tonight we just finally got a chance to be alone together, you know?”
Alan nods. “I do.”
Jim touches Alan’s arm, then runs his hand down to Alan’s wrist. From there he makes the short jump to Alan’s waist, and he tickles over Alan’s stomach to run his forefinger around Alan’s navel. Then lower again, to Alan’s belt, which Jim slowly unbuckles. They both watch the movements his fingers make, Alan with rising anticipation. Once the belt is out of the way, Jim toys with the snap at Alan’s fly.
It pops open.
Alan’s zipper eases down a little on its own from the erection pushing against his trousers. Jim pinches the zipper pull, playing with it, tugging it up and down in miniscule increments. Alan watches, waiting, wanting. When Jim goes no farther, Alan glances at him.
And is surprised to find Jim staring back.
Alan’s ready to beg, if that’s what it takes to get this man on top of him again. “Jim,” he sighs.
Softly, Jim says, “I like you, Alan. I really do. And I don’t feel like we’re rushing things tonight, but I don’t want to do anything you aren’t ready to do. I can spend the rest of the night just kissing you and I’d be happy. I’d be thrilled. But if you want to do something more…”
Alan brushes his fingers over Jim’s taut belly. “I’d like that.”
“So would I.”
Jim’s hand drops to cup Alan’s crotch. Delicious lust spikes through Alan at the touch, and Jim smiles as he leans in close to claim another kiss.
Chapter 16
More kisses; Alan loses track of time. His lips are tender, swollen, tingling from a dozen little nibbles and the press of Jim’s mouth to his. Though they both said they wanted to do more, neither seems willing to make the first move. Instead they lie entwined together on Jim’s bed, hands and tongues exploring every swath of bare skin available. Jim was right—Alan could happily spend the rest of his life kissing this man, no complaints.
But since they both want more, why stop here?
The next time Jim comes up for air, Alan slides back a bit, putting some space between them. Jim’s usually smoothed-flat hair stands up on one side of his head, and he runs a hand over it to try and tame it down, with little results. His voice is thick and gravelly when he asks, “What’s up? Why’d you stop?”
“I’m up, if you catch my drift.” Alan tugs at his open fly, through which his underwear bulges obscenely. “I don’t know about you, but my libido isn’t quite as athletic as it used to be. I didn’t take my Viagra today—”
“You don’t need Viagra,” Jim scoffs.
Alan smiles. “Maybe not yet, but I can’t hold it back forever, and once it goes off, that’s it for the night. Those days of two or three orgasms in a row are long behind me. I’ll probably need the whole weekend to recharge.”
With a laugh, Jim tells him, “Oh, stop it. You make it sound like you’re in your seventies. Fifty is the new forty, don’t you know?”
“So says everyone who never thought they’d get this old. Seriously, though,” Alan says, “if we want to do anything else tonight, we should probably start making moves in that direction. I have a nephew at home I have to get back to at some point before he burns down the house.”
Rolling onto his back, Jim unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants. “He wouldn’t, would he?”
“You never know.” Alan watches as Jim wriggles out of his pants. The front of his underwear tents as eagerly as Alan’s. He raises one leg to kick down the pants, then raises the other, and Alan sees a hint of dark hair and dusky skin when Jim’s briefs gap above his thigh.
What are they talking about again?
Somehow Jim’s ankles become entangled, and he kicks at the pants ineffectually. With an exasperated sigh, he drops his legs to the bed and turns his head to frown at Alan. “A little help here would be nice.”
“Yes, sir.” Alan rolls onto Jim and steals a quick kiss, then slides off the bed to stand at the foot of it, in front of him. Grabbing his pants, Alan tugs them down as Jim pulls up his knees to help. Alan’s afforded another tantalizingly quick glimpse through the leg hole in Jim’s briefs, swirls of hair that hint at so much more.
Then the pants slide off and Alan lets them puddle to the floor. Jim props himself up on his elbows and gives Alan a sultry look down the firm length of his body.
“Your turn.”
It’s easier standing up—Alan drops trou in one swift motion and gives Jim a haughty look as he kicks them aside. But wh
en he hooks his fingers into the waistband of his briefs, he hesitates. He knows what he looks like naked, and it’s a far cry from the slim, trim youth he once was. It doesn’t help that Jim somehow skipped the “dad bod” phase most men seem to go through. Maybe it’s because he has to stay fit for work, or maybe he’s just one of those lucky bastards who don’t seem to gain weight or sag in all the wrong places. But suddenly Alan is all too aware of his own flaws, and he isn’t sure he wants Jim to notice them, too.
Jim nudges Alan’s leg with his foot. “Come on, handsome. What are you waiting for? Take it all off.”
“Maybe we should turn out the light,” Alan suggests.
“Then I won’t be able to see you.”
Alan shrugs, uncomfortable. “That’s sort of the idea.”
Now Jim sits up, and he takes Alan’s hands in both of his, spreading his legs to pull Alan in, closer to him. “Hey, come on,” he says, his voice soft, soothing, as if he’s talking to a skittish animal. “Stop saying all this shit about yourself. Newsflash—I like you just the way you are. I think you’re incredibly handsome and deliciously sexy, and seeing you naked isn’t going to change my opinion. Trust me. Unless you have, like, two dicks or something…”
“What then?” Alan asks sternly, but he can’t quite keep a straight face.
Jim grins. “Then it’s double the fun for me. I don’t know where we’d stick them both but you can be sure as hell I’ll figure something out.” With an earnest look up at Alan, he adds, “You don’t, do you?”
That breaks the tension, and Alan gives Jim a playful smack on the top of his head. “Just the one, usual standard issue.”
Reaching out, Jim runs a hand over Alan’s stomach and down, over his briefs, down, until he grasps Alan’s hard cock through the thin cotton. “I don’t know,” he says, doubtful. “It feels pretty big to me.”
“You haven’t seen it yet,” Alan tells him. “It’s average size, more or less.”
“Says you. But I’m going to be the one taking it in, so let me be the judge of that.”
Leaning forward, Jim rubs his nose into Alan’s navel and kisses the faint hairs that trail from it into Alan’s briefs. Then he rolls down the waistband of Alan’s briefs to kiss another spot, lower. Another roll, another kiss. Alan’s cock throbs from Jim’s nearness; he feels Jim’s chin brush over the covered tip of his dick and has to bite back a sob of desire.
Another roll. Another kiss, this one right where Alan’s pubic hair begins.
Another roll—the briefs come down in the back, Alan feels a sudden coolness on his exposed buttocks, but the material in the front catches on his cock. The cotton is almost translucent with precum. Jim’s tongue licks out to taste it, wetting the fabric more, warm against the shroomy head of Alan’s dick. He suckles a moment, then peels the briefs off over the swollen member, exposing the bulbous glans.
Jim dips, taking it into his mouth again, his tongue soft but firm against Alan’s bare flesh. He pushes Alan’s briefs down, and they slip all the way to Alan’s ankles. Wrapping his arms around Alan’s waist, Jim cups a meaty cheek in each palm and kneads, massaging them, spreading them, opening them wider as he sucks down the length of Alan’s stiff dick.
Alan sighs. “God, yes.”
When Jim bobs up, Alan catches the back of his neck. Holding him steady, Alan thrusts into him, cock disappearing into Jim’s willing mouth. His tongue swirls around Alan’s length and up again, his fingers now rubbing along the cleft between Alan’s buttocks. One adventurous digit finds Alan’s tender hole and rims it.
“Oh God,” Alan gasps, leaning into Jim with his back arched, aching for more. He’s close, he can feel it, he’s been half-hard all night long, but he wants more, and he knows Jim does, too. If he isn’t careful, he’ll end up spoiling the evening for them both.
So as Jim goes down on him again, Alan pulls away. It takes all the strength he has, and he almost sobs with need when his dick slips free from between Jim’s lips. But Alan fists a hand in Jim’s hair and holds him back.
At Jim’s frown, Alan says, “I don’t want to have all the fun. And you’re a little overdressed.”
Jim laughs as he stands, running his hands up the sides of Alan’s body from waist to shoulders. Wrapping his arms around Alan’s neck, he presses himself against Alan’s nakedness. When they kiss, Alan can taste his own salty musk on Jim’s breath.
Rubbing Alan’s nose with his, Jim murmurs, “You don’t happen to have a condom in your wallet, do you?”
Alan has to snigger. “I haven’t carried one for years. Last time I did, I don’t even think I used it, just chucked it in the bin when it got too crumpled.”
“I might have some lying around.” Another kiss, and then Jim promises, “I’ll be right back.”
He heads for the bathroom but stops halfway there. “Oh, wait.”
Hooking his briefs with both thumbs, he gives Alan a smoldering look over one shoulder as he shimmies out of his underwear. He takes his time, too, dammit, wiggling his hips and leaning forward as he works the briefs down his legs, staring at Alan the whole time.
Unconsciously Alan’s hand strays to his cock, encircling the thick length as he watches the show. He has to bite back a moan when Jim bends over—he can see the dark hair encircling Jim’s puckered center.
“Like it?” Jim asks, a tease in his usually gruff voice. “Want it?”
“Jesus, man,” Alan whispers.
Standing, Jim kicks away the briefs. He doesn’t turn, giving Alan a good view of his tight, round buttocks. He has the arse of a twenty-year-old. “Did you just call me Jesus?”
Alan squeezes his cock, and pleasure shoots through him. “Another minute and I’m not going to need that condom after all,” he warns.
“Alright, alright.” Jim heads for the bathroom. “Let me see what I can find. Don’t get started without me.”
“We already started,” Alan says. “Be quick or I might finish without you. I don’t think I’ll have much choice.”
Jim’s laugh trails back into the bedroom. “Then you’ll just have to stay here until you get it up again, I don’t care how long it takes.”
“Don’t tempt me! I might be here all night.”
“Like that would be a bad thing,” Jim shoots back.
Alan grins and takes a seat on the bed, but after a moment he lies back, stretching out. One hand still lazily strokes his hard cock, and the other rests behind his head. He stares at the ceiling, illuminated by a circle of light from the bedside lamp, and savors sensations rippling through him that he’d begun to think were long gone.
His body still knows how to react, though, and he has to force himself to stop and wait for Jim. Is this going to be a one-time thing? Alan hopes not. He hopes tomorrow evening finds them on the phone again, chatting comfortably with each other, making plans to go out again soon. He’ll have to see what’s playing at the cinema next weekend. Maybe he and Brooks could double date.
If nothing else, though, Alan will have to add condoms to his weekly shopping list. This is starting to drag on…
“You okay in there?” he calls out just as he hears a noise that sounds suspiciously like the contents of the medicine cabinet being unceremoniously scooped out into the sink.
“Here I come!” Jim hollers back.
Lowering his voice, Alan mutters, “You better not be. Not without me, at least.”
“Here I am. Found ‘em.”
Alan turns his head as Jim steps back into the bedroom. “Took you long enough.”
Whatever else he might say dries in his throat. This is his first look at Jim without clothing, and he isn’t disappointed. There’s no little pouch around his waist like what Alan has; no, he’s lean and fit, and trim muscles angle down into the dark thatch of curls at his crotch. His erection juts up from the pubic thicket and curves towards his body, hugging his lower belly, the tip pointing at his navel. Alan sees veins etched along the hard length and wants to take it into his mouth, fist i
t, suckle it, milk it to orgasm. He wants to feel it alongside his own dick, to rub it all over his body, tickling it with the hair on his chest, at his groin. Wants to make it erupt in thick, ropy spurts from his ministrations and see the ecstasy on Jim’s face when he makes it come.
Absently running a hand over his hard length, Jim frowns at a battered cardboard box in the other. “Do you think it matters if they’re expired?”
“That’s just the spermicide on them,” Alan says. “As long as you don’t mind running the risk of getting pregnant—”
Jim laughs. “Yeah, right.”
He tosses the box at the bed. It hits Alan’s elbow, and from this angle, Alan can see the date on the bottom of the box. “Damn, mate, 2005? That might be too long.”
“You just said it didn’t matter!” Jim cries.
Alan shakes his head, amused. “Yeah, but that’s more than ten years ago!”
“It’s unopened, too,” Jim points out. “I wasn’t lying when I said I haven’t been with anyone in a while.”
That was one of the many things they talked about on the phone, when they’d last been with someone. Alan was almost embarrassed to admit it’d been some time for him—he last got laid back in the late nineties, before Brooks was even born. But when Jim claimed something similar, Alan had his doubts. A guy like Jim would have his choice of lovers, male or female. His last relationship might’ve been with a fellow officer on the force before Y2K, but surely he went on dates between then and now. Random hookups, booty calls, something.
Yeah, like the disastrous date he mentioned at the restaurant, Alan reminds himself. Can’t imagine they came back here afterward if things were all that bad.
As Alan reaches for the box, Jim opens a drawer on the bedside table and pulls out a half-empty bottle of silicone lubricant. “This sees a little more action,” he jokes, tossing it to Alan, as well.
Then Jim climbs onto the bed. Batting away the hand on Alan’s cock, Jim crawls over him, then sits on Alan’s thighs, straddling him. He runs his hands over the bushy hair at Alan’s crotch, encircling the base of Alan’s dick, then stretches forward, rubbing over Alan’s cock and stomach and chest, through all that hair, too, until he’s lying on top of Alan. Every inch of his body seems to be pressing against every inch of Alan’s. Nerves tingle, synapses fire, blood heats up with desire as Alan feels Jim’s cock pinned between them, hard and rigid against his own.
