by Heidi Champa
I got closer and when I saw him smile, I knew he was Jerry.
“Wes?”
“That’s me. You must be Jerry.”
He reached out his hand and I shook it. His black pinstriped suit was slightly ill-fitting and looked as if it spent the night crumpled on a floor.
“I hope you don’t mind, I ordered already. I got here a bit early,” he said, gesturing to the expensive import beer in front of him.
“No problem.”
After I ordered a similarly overpriced beer from the bartender, Jerry turned toward me on his stool and smiled.
“I have to say, you’re even cuter than the picture Doris showed me, Wes.”
“Thanks. I didn’t even know she had a photo of me.”
Jerry pulled out his phone and began to scroll through screens. I took him in as he was distracted. He was cute enough, mousy brown hair, fairly unremarkable brown eyes, and a decent body, from what I could tell. He stopped swiping his finger over the screen, and I took a sip of my beer.
“Here it is.”
I looked and saw myself on Jocelyn’s couch, next to one of the other book club ladies, a glass of wine in my hand. I was smiling. The picture wasn’t terrible, but I hadn’t even noticed that they took it. Those sneaky bitches. The whole thing had been a setup from the start. And I’d walked right into their trap. They were crafty.
“Oh, right. That was at book club,” I said before taking a sip of beer.
“You’re in a ladies’ book club?”
He looked slightly horrified, so I tried to talk my way out of it. I would have thought he’d be happy I read at all.
“Not really. They had invited me that one night. I’m kind of new to the neighborhood, and they thought I might want something to do.”
“Oh, really. Did you just buy a place? From what I hear, it’s a nice area.”
He sipped his imported beer and straightened his ugly tie. I wanted to put my current predicament in the best light. A guy like Jerry wouldn’t want to know my sordid story. Plus, there was no way I wanted this guy to know too much about me.
“No. I don’t own a house. I actually moved in with my brother.”
He frowned, clearly not what he wanted to hear.
“Oh. Why?”
I didn’t know how to answer. Even though I wasn’t really trying to impress him, I didn’t want to come off as a deadbeat loser. I had my pride, after all.
“Um, well, I lost my place in the city and I needed a place to stay. My brother was good enough to help me out.”
“How did you lose your place? Foreclosure?” he asked, horror in his voice.
I was surprised he wasn’t clutching his chest, the way he said the word. This was not going well. It had only been a few minutes, but it was clear that Jerry and I were not only incompatible, but amazingly so. I had been right. Doris and Jocelyn thought that just because Jerry and I were gay, we should be together. Sure, they meant well, but once again, I’d fallen victim to a clueless setup.
“No, nothing like that. My ex and I had a bit of a falling out and it was his place. So I had to move out unexpectedly.”
“Oh,” he said sullenly.
He drank more beer and looked around, the conversation drying up for a few seconds, until he pulled out the old standby.
“So what is it you do for a living, Wes? Doris didn’t say.”
If my living situation didn’t kill the mood, I knew this would. Something told me Jerry was used to dating lawyers and other business types.
“I’m a professional organizer.”
He looked confused, and it only made him look less attractive.
“And what does that involve?”
“Mostly I help people clean out their houses, get rid of clutter, and get a better handle on their stuff.”
I had to give him credit for trying to seem interested. I could tell from the look on his face he was anything but.
“So you clean out basements and stuff like that?”
“Yeah. Closets, garages, whole houses. I used to work with businesses too, to help them streamline their storage and filing systems.”
With each word, I could see that I was dropping in his estimation. He looked me up and down as I sipped my beer, and it was clear I was getting less cute by the minute. I knew I didn’t meet his standards. Now it was just a question of whether he felt like slumming it with me.
“That sounds… interesting. Did you go to college?” he asked.
I almost laughed at his question. He obviously wanted to know where my life went wrong. It wasn’t the first time someone asked me that. His superiority complex was showing, in a big way.
“Yeah, I went to State. What about you?”
From the look of derision on his face, I might as well have said I attended clown college. His nose went a little higher in the air as he cleared his throat.
“University of Pennsylvania. Then the Wharton School for my MBA.”
Of course. I felt like I was sinking fast and had no idea how to fix it. Disaster didn’t even begin to cover what this date was turning into.
“Wow, Ivy League. That’s impressive.”
He looked smug as he took a drink. There was only one way I could think of to salvage the date. More flattery.
“So, financial planning sounds interesting. Why don’t you tell me more about that?”
He lit up when I mentioned his work, and I tried to listen as he regaled me with stories of how much money he made for his clients and how great he was at his job. The stuff I actually understood was so boring I almost nodded off. The bartender approached and I was ready to order another beer to get me through it when Jerry sent him away and turned to me, his hand on top of mine.
“Wes, can I be honest?”
“Sure.”
I knew what was coming, but I decided to let him say it. Ordinarily in this situation, I would beat the other guy to the punch and turn him down before he could do the same to me. But I didn’t have the strength for some reason. I didn’t care if this guy liked me or not. Because I didn’t like him. All I wanted to do was go home and retreat to the basement and eat chips in front of the television.
“I just don’t think this is going to work out. I mean, you’re a really cute guy. Maybe it’s the age difference.”
“Age difference?” I asked, confused.
“Well, you know, I’m twenty-nine and looking to settle down. And you’re young and more carefree, and I think we just want two different things.”
I didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted. At least I could take comfort in the fact that I looked young.
“I’m twenty-eight, Jerry.”
He looked shocked. Too shocked. Now I was insulted.
“Oh. Oh, I didn’t realize. You don’t seem it. At all. I would have said twenty-five, max. Maybe younger.”
He took out his wallet and threw some money down on the bar, making a show of leaving a big tip.
“I hope you have a good night, Wes. No hard feelings, right?”
“Nope. Thanks for the drink, Jerry. Have a good night.”
With that, he stood up and disappeared out the door. I laughed out loud, which got me a few strange looks from the people next to me. I ordered another beer, despite the price. As I sipped, I scanned the room, wondering if there was anyone there I could hook up with. My ego needed a bit of repair, and I couldn’t think of a better way to do it. I thought I spotted someone with potential, but before I could get a better look, I saw Sam. I felt a jolt of panic and ducked down a bit just in case he turned my way. Right behind him was a guy so hot, he almost didn’t look real. He was tall and handsome, looking perfect in a well-tailored suit. They were laughing, and then the hot guy put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. I slunk down more on my stool, hiding behind the person next to me, hoping to God they wouldn’t see me.
I stared at Sam’s face and felt a kick in my guts. This time, the feeling didn’t fade as fast. The two of them, walking side by side, made sense togethe
r. Sam and this guy looked every inch the perfect couple, right down to their almost matching ties. They walked out the door, and after I sank my beer and threw down a ten-dollar bill, I followed. The guy opened the car door for Sam, the black Jaguar gleaming under the parking lot lights. Jesus, Sam was lucky. Not only did he date hot, rich guys, he found someone like me to give him no-strings-attached sex on top of that. He claimed to be so out of practice, but hell, he was doing better with guys than me at the moment.
After I got home and retreated to the basement, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about Sam, even though I told myself not to. Just as I was ready to doze off, I heard my phone buzz. Looking at the screen, I saw Sam’s name. I thought of not answering it, but I pressed Accept before I could change my mind.
“Hello?”
“Wes? Hey, it’s Sam. Sorry to call so late.”
“No problem. What’s up?”
“I thought maybe you’d be available to finish my basement sometime this week.”
And here I was expecting a booty call. After all, who calls someone after eleven unless they want to fuck? Back to business as usual for Sam. I couldn’t say I was surprised.
“Um, yeah. That should be no problem. Is there a day that suits you?”
“How about Wednesday?” he asked, his voice so chipper it bordered on annoying.
“That should work,” I replied, my tone as neutral as I could manage.
“Great. Great, I’ll see you then.”
Before he could hang up on me, I decided to push the envelope. I was tired of waiting for Sam to make a move. I thought of him looking so hot in his fancy suit and bit the bullet.
“You didn’t just call me to talk about your basement, did you, Sam?”
There was silence on the line until finally he cleared his throat.
“Um, what do you mean?”
I couldn’t stop the laugh from coming out of my mouth. I ran my hand down my chest and decided not to back down.
“Well, most of the time, when someone calls me so late, they’re looking for a little more than my cleaning services.”
I heard him breathing and hoped I hadn’t gone too far.
“Is that a fact?”
“Yup.”
“And what are they usually calling for?”
“Oh, I think you know,” I said, trying to keep my voice from giving too much away.
“Enlighten me, Wes.”
My cock stirred and I let my eyes fall closed.
“Usually it’s to have me come over and fuck them.”
I didn’t even have time to regret the words, Sam surprising me once again.
“Well, if that’s what these calls are usually for, then I’d hate to buck with convention,” he said, his voice husky.
“So, is that an invitation?” I asked, wanting to hear him say it.
“Absolutely.” The line went dead before I could say another word.
I PULLED up to the curb in front of Sam’s and killed the ignition. When I got to the door, I hesitated for a moment, my fingers resting on the brass knob. With a deep breath, I shoved aside a moment of doubt and walked into the house. It was eerily quiet and dark. There was a dim light coming from Sam’s office, the door open just a fraction. I pushed the door open and saw him sitting behind his desk. Our eyes met and he smiled, standing up before I could take another step.
“Nice of you to drop by on such short notice, Wes,” he said, his voice dripping with sexiness.
“It’s my pleasure.”
He strolled around his desk and stopped in front of me, wrapping his arms around my back.
“Oh, it will be. Don’t worry about that,” he said.
As strange as it was, I had to admit the bold side of Sam was a fucking turn-on. Sam kissed me, walking us both back toward his desk, instead of out the door like I expected.
“Don’t you want to go upstairs?” I asked, trying to get the words out between Sam’s insistent kisses.
“Nope.”
He gestured to the desk, neat and orderly, exactly as I expected it to be. Before I could say another word, he lifted my shirt over my head and tossed it aside. There was only one thing I could say.
“Okay.”
Sam started to strip off his clothes. This time, I didn’t mind things going fast. My cock hardened as he opened my belt, my pants sliding down my legs to the soft carpet.
“I’ve been thinking about you all night, Wes.”
My mind briefly flicked to the hot guy at the bar, but I let a smirk come across my face.
“Really?”
Sam nodded slowly, his hands sliding up and down my back. Our lips met, his tongue moving gently against mine.
“I’ve been dying to hook up with you again. It’s becoming very distracting.”
“Sorry,” I said before claiming his mouth again.
“Don’t be. Believe me, I’m not.”
He slipped from my arms before I could say anything else, lowering to his knees in front of me. His hand was warm around my cock, his tongue even warmer as he took me in, the wet heaven of his mouth making me sigh. I stared down at him, his eyes fixed on mine. It was the hottest thing I’d seen in a long time. He slowly pulled my cock out from between his lips, drawing his tongue along the underside. After giving the tip a kiss, he smiled up at me.
“God, I’ve missed you, Wes.”
My knees buckled as he took me back in his mouth, his fingers caressing my balls as he sucked me. I ran my fingers through his hair, gripping and guiding him, pushing myself a bit deeper with each stroke. Sam moaned around me, my toes digging into the carpet as the first bits of my composure started to slip. As much as I didn’t want him to stop, I eased him away and pulled him to his feet. His lips curled into a smile, my stomach tightening at the sight.
“Hey. What if I wasn’t done with you just yet?” he asked before giving me a long kiss.
“Sorry. But I think if you give me a chance, I can find a way to make it up to you,” I responded, moving his bare ass to the edge of his desk.
“You think so?”
I nodded, stroking his cock slowly until he bit his bottom lip.
“I do. But if you’d rather I stop….” I trailed off, my grip on him loosening. Sam put his hand on mine and stared into my eyes.
“No. I don’t want you to stop.”
I ran a finger down his cheek and over his moist lips. God, Sam was hotter than he had any right to be.
“Then what do you want, Sam?”
He sighed before he pulled me close.
“I want you to bend me over this desk and fuck me,” Sam said, his voice just above a whisper.
My mouth fell open at his boldness, but I recovered quickly. I smiled at him before turning him around, pressing my chest against his back. I relished the warmth of his skin against mine, the rapid pound of his heart. I said my words directly in his ear, giving his lobe a nip before I finished. “That’s not something I expected to hear from a boring insurance agent in his home office.”
He ground his ass against my hard cock, making a moan slip from my lips.
“What can I say? You bring it out of me, Wes.”
Sam reached down and pulled open a drawer, rummaging for a moment before revealing the condom and lube. He set them on the desktop, and I smiled against his shoulder. It was so like him, the responsible side of Sam never very far away. I couldn’t help but mention it.
“And once again, you’re so prepared, Sam.”
“Well, I’m still me, after all,” he said, looking back at me.
We kissed and I snaked my arm around him, relishing each sensation. I could have stood there and made out with him all night, but another wiggle of his sexy ass knocked the momentary romantic notion out of my head. I put a hand to the center of Sam’s back and gently pressed him forward, until he was completely bent at the waist. The sight of it was almost too much. I ran my hands up and down his back, stifling a giggle as I watched him squirm. When I cracked open the lube, I heard S
am’s breath catch.
“Fuck,” he said, the word hissing from his lips as my wet fingertip barely grazed his hole. I circled his pucker slowly, feeling the tension ripple through his body. As I eased the tip of my finger inside him, he sighed, the sweet sound making me grin in the dark. I took my time with him, opening him up, teasing until I felt him relax a bit. I kissed my way up his spine, my fingers working in and out of him slow and steady.
“I told you I’d make it up to you,” I said before standing up and reaching for the condom. Sam turned and watched me as I rolled it on, his eyes fixed on my cock. Once again, as much as I wanted to get down to it, I took things at a slower pace, the anticipation too sweet to rush through.
“Wes, please, I need you.”
I always loved hearing those words from a guy. No matter how often I’d heard some variation on the theme, it never ceased to make me get a little bit harder. I needed Sam just as much, but instead of telling him so, I decided to give him what we both wanted. He turned his face away, lowering himself back to the top of the desk as I nudged his hole with my cock. The whimper that came out of his mouth was the fucking hottest thing I’d heard from him yet. I pushed inside him, stopping when he gasped. He tightened around me, and I stayed still until I heard him slowly exhale a deep breath.
“Fuck me,” he growled out, a hard edge in his voice.
Gripping his hips, I obliged him, moving inside him slowly for a few strokes before I picked up the intensity. Sam’s hands clung to the desk, something falling from its edge as we moved, and our moans punctuated the quiet of the room. Soon, Sam was backing up into me, and I let him set the pace. Watching him squirm and push against me was so fucking hot. Sam’s back started to sheen with sweat, matching my own skin, damp at the exertion.
Much like the first time, Sam had me close to the edge in no time. I wasn’t used to being so affected by a guy. Usually when I hooked up with someone, my mind was a million miles away, only checking into the situation at the end so I could get off. But something about being with Sam didn’t let my mind wander. All I could focus on was him, how he looked and sounded, how fucking good it all felt. How right it all felt.
