by Maren Smith
“You can’t snatch somebody out of the closet.”
“I didn’t want to snatch him out. I just wanted to take the nails out of the door. His mother and Bishop Blowhard had him boarded up tight.”
“Maybe Bishop Blowhard needs to be blown hard. A man can get really reasonable after a powerful orgasm.”
We pulled up to the restaurant, and I looked at Craig over the roof of his car. “And what would your plan be for his mother?”
Craig laughed out loud. Yeah, he wouldn’t be volunteering to help with that situation. When he settled down and caught his breath, he waved for me to come around the hood of the car. “Come on. Oh, and I’m getting the bottomless mimosas.”
“You always get them.”
“Yeah, but today you’re buying, so I thought it was worth restating.”
Sunday night I did the best I could to put Asa out of my mind. It was a toss-up for my concentration. I was either thinking about getting him alone or thinking about getting him out of my system per Craig’s vehement suggestions. I worked on some lessons for my outreach program and the final touches on a homeless men’s overnight ministry.
As I put the finishing touches on the flyer to take to the neighboring churches, an idea took hold and wouldn’t let go. It was a bold move. I might live to regret it, and probably should run my thoughts by someone first. Luckily, Craig was on shift at the firehouse and not here to talk me out of it. I could’ve called him, but I didn’t need that sort of negativity. The plan was forming, and I could see the outcome as clear as my reflection. For the first time in a week, a calmness came over me and I knew I was going to have a good night’s sleep.
I was wrong. I woke up, after two hours, even more exhausted. Asa was still at the forefront of my mind, but it wasn’t anxiety over how to get him. It was the nonstop reel of having him in my arms and in my bed. The last dream was so vivid I woke up and felt the other side of the bed like I expected him to be there. My dick wasn’t doing much better. It was even more disappointed than I was in the cold empty space beside me.
Finally, shoving my briefs down and kicking them off the edge of the bed I took the matter in my own hands. The cool air from the ceiling fan chilled the pre-cum leaking from my hardening cock. I stretched to the nightstand, fumbling to put my hand on some lube. This wasn’t going to take long at all. Remembering his smile and gorgeous body in his slacks with that suit vest. Everything looked like it had been fit by a tailor. I didn’t remember him being so toned and in shape. His time in college had obviously been well spent. Focusing my mind on his full lips and imagining him pressed beneath me while I kissed him until they were swollen or, even better, watching those swollen lips around me sucking me with enough intensity to have me exploding down his throat. My strokes increased and my back bowed up from the mattress. My mind went to Asa’s voice and the way he said my name. The syllables rolled off his tongue smoother than it did off of anyone else’s. He was soft spoken, with just a bit of trepidation in his words, like he needed to measure every response. It made him fade to the background for some people, but it made me want to lean in and listen more closely.
I would love to be the one to help him find his voice. Yelling my name or begging me to take him harder as I bent him over the end of the bed or held him against the wall. He could keep his soft voice for strangers, but I couldn’t wait to make him yell for daddy. As those thoughts took hold and I pictured him and heard his voice I could feel my balls drawing up. My orgasm was right there. It wouldn’t take much more. Using my other hand, I worked my sack while concentrating on my head and the dripping slit. The smell of my arousal filled my bedroom.
As I started working my fist up and down the shaft faster and faster, it throbbed in appreciation. I started squirting in short white bursts, firing rhythmically. Thick ropes shot relentlessly from my bulbous head, and the grunts and gasps came from me involuntarily as my balls disgorged themselves, making a thick white puddle on my stomach.
Now I was well and truly exhausted. I had a plan. I had an orgasm. Once I caught my breath, I reached for my discarded briefs and used them to clean myself up. Two thoughts passed through my mind before it shut down. One, I would need to do a load of laundry in the morning. Two, the rest of my brain was filled with extremely pleasant thoughts of Asa Watkins coursing through my head.
Chapter Three
Asa
It was time to make a clean getaway. Nashville was calling. It was amazing how much the world opened up a mere forty-five minutes down the I-440. I wanted to get back to the safety of my apartment and out from under Mama’s scrutiny. That woman asked more questions over a cup of coffee than a detective did during an episode of Law & Order. I could not have the ‘you need to find a girlfriend’ conversation with her again.
No one would believe that I would be finished with college and enrolled in graduate school by the end of the summer. Ten minutes under Mama’s watchful eye and ‘gentle’ guidance and I turned back into a doting and obedient little boy. Passive-aggressive critiques were her style, and she never made a suggestion she didn’t intend for you to take.
I know she loves me, but it has always felt conditional. She loves me lots but loves me more when I’m doing what she says. Tossing the last few items in the bag I darted across the hall to the bathroom to grab my toothbrush and hair stuff. The doorbell rang as I crossed back to my room.
“Mama, can you get that? Mama!”
Ugh, my hands were full, and it didn’t seem like Mama heard me. That or she was happy to have me play doorman. When I got to the bottom of the steps, I heard her calling out that she was getting it. Story of life with Mama. Did she mean to be difficult or was it just a by-product of her natural personality?
“Bess, honey, come on in. I’m cleaning up from breakfast, but I can whip something up for you really quick.”
“Hey, Mama Watkins. No, I already ate. I’m trying to keep it down to one breakfast a day. Taking your suggestions to heart.”
All I could do was roll my eyes and try to stifle my laughter. Bess had her own way of going toe-to-toe with my mama. Mama thought Bess would have a better chance of getting a husband if she lost a few pounds. And, yes, she actually told her that one night when Bess was visiting and crying over her latest breakup.
“Well, it’s good to see you cutting back, honey. I’m going to go and finish cleaning up. You know Asa has to get right back to the big city, so he’s about to rush off again.”
Bess followed me up the steps.
“Why are you rushing off so early? I figured we would hang out today. You said you didn’t need to be back to work until Wednesday.”
“I’m ready to leave, Bess.”
“You’re not still mad at me, are you? There is no way I could have helped you on Sunday. Besides you already bitched me out about it.”
Packing took a backseat to my emotional exhaustion, and I laid back on my bed. Laying there, I got irritated the way I always did at the ridiculousness of Mama refusing to buy me a full size or queen size bed. My room was large enough, and money wasn’t an issue, but she always refused. Bess flopped down next to me and we laid in silence with our dangling feet occasionally hitting each other.
“Asa, sit up and talk to me.”
“I have a life Bess and I cannot live it here. When I’m in this town and in this room, I feel like I’m suffocating.”
“Obviously, you’re not being literal. Let’s go out. If you run a few errands with me, I’ll buy you lunch.”
“Nothing about that sounds like fun. It sounds like me running around this hot ass town all day with you and my reward is sweaty balls and lunch at the diner. Am I wrong?”
Neither of us had switched positions except to turn our faces to one another.
“If we’re out of your mother’s earshot you can tell me about that conversation with Malik. You were too focused on being mad at me last night. Oh, and you know I’m getting you back for hanging up on me. You won’t know when. Just know it’s comin
g.”
“Jerk. Fine. I’ll go with you, but there’s nothing to tell.”
After going to the dollar store, the pharmacy, a drive-through donut shop, and a home improvement store I wasn’t sure these stops were necessary, random, or some sort of by-product of my friend’s fractured and scattered brain. We’d been driving and stopping for close to three hours. Things weren’t even that spread out in our town, but Bess managed so many back and forth directionally challenged detours I was dizzy and turned around myself.
“Okay, not another stop. What are we really doing?”
“What? I told you I had errands. I’m finally going to redecorate my bedroom and bathroom.”
“Bess, you love to shop. We’ve been in half a dozen stores and all you have to show for it is color swatches and a box of donuts. Technically, we’ve eaten so many that lunch is practically a waste of time. What are you up to?”
“You are ridiculously suspicious. Okay, last stop.”
When she pulled into the church parking lot, I wanted to leap across the middle console of her Jeep and strangle my so-called best friend. I would have too, if I hadn’t seen Malik striding up the front steps of the sanctuary. What was he doing back here? Whatever it was I would bet my entire savings that us being here at the exact same time was no coincidence. While my brain caught up and attempted to process the situation, Bess had stopped the car, turned it off, and gotten out. What the hell was going on?
“Hey, Malik.” She shouted just as he was about to go inside. He turned around and waved smiling at Bess but looking directly at me.
“Bess, so good to see you. I really appreciate you meeting me here to pick up these flyers for your mother’s clinic.”
He’d made his way back down the steps and the two of them carried on a conversation that I could hear less and less the closer they moved together. I was still standing by the hood of her Jeep. He was dressed a lot more casually today. Compared to Bishop, no one would mistake him for a minister in lay clothes. His jeans weren’t exactly skinny, but they weren’t high waisted dad jeans either. Malik was well put together in jeans and a white fitted Henley, as always. Since I was far enough away, I felt safe staring and taking in my fill of his broad, muscular chest, and that tiny glimpse of skin between his throat and his opened top button. I let my gaze venture further down to his ass and strong thigh muscles. It was clear he wasn’t planning to slip into his thirties quietly and without any attempt to hold on to his youthful physique. I wondered if he still played ball as much as he used to. I wondered all sorts of things.
“Asa, you do plan on joining us, don’t you?” Bess called.
My first thought was, no, I do not. Not at all and not for any reason. My brain thought that, but my feet were operating with a mind of their own because I was moving toward them and in front of them before my brain caught up with the independent action of my traitorous feet.
“Asa, so good to see you again. I should play the lottery. I’m feeling pretty lucky right about now.”
“Yeah.” Great, he was going to witness more of my stellar verbal skills.
“Asa and I were running a bunch of errands, well he was running my errands with me, so I told my mother I would come by to meet you. I heard her on the phone talking about your program with Bishop early this morning.”
So that was why the little sneak wouldn’t let me go home and had been dragging me all over this damn town. Having figured out that tidbit allowed my brain to engage more fully.
“Anybody open to telling me what program we’re talking about. I feel so out of the loop.” The pointed look I leveled on Bess wasn’t lost on her and she had enough sense to look at least a little bit guilty.
“I’m planning, well, I have planned a men’s ministry lock-in. I’ve been working on the idea in my head for a while but finally told myself it would never be perfect or ideal, but I wouldn’t know what it could be if I didn’t just do it.”
“A lock-in ministry?”
“It’s a program I participated in while I was in seminary. We take in a specific number of homeless men who want to participate, and we provide them with beds, meals, showers, clothing, and direct them to services they might need but don’t know about. It’s a big undertaking. I have the support of the local churches, but I need male volunteers for overnight. We want to create a safe space for men to share and be emotionally vulnerable and a co-ed environment isn’t conducive.”
Malik’s hand shot out with a flyer after his speech. I reached out to accept it and we both held on a fraction too long.
“Asa, this sounds like something in your wheelhouse. I bet you could get some sort of credit for it in your summer classes.”
“Uh, what?”
“You could drive down and help Malik with his lockdown situation.”
“Um, yeah, that’s lock-in ministry, but yeah I would love it if you could volunteer.”
“Volunteer? To be locked in with you. Um, I…”
“Well, since this is a guy only kind of function, I know I’m not needed. I’m going to pop inside and grab some sheet music I want to work on.”
Bess was up the steps and through the doors before I could articulate my questions. What sheet music and what did she need it for? Slowly my eyes went back to Malik and his intense scrutiny. I had to look away. I knew if our eyes held too long he would see everything I was holding onto.
“So, are you willing to help me?”
“With the lock-in?”
His laugh had me looking up again, and I watched his smile reach his eyes and pull me in further.
“Yes, Asa, we are still talking about the lock-in. I don’t remember you having this much trouble staying focused before.”
“I’m not. I don’t. I’m focused just fine. Where is it being held? Not here, right?”
“No.”
Why the hell was he moving in closer to me? Why wasn’t I backing up? Because my body was indulging in a closeness it craved with this man. We were on the street and in front of the church, so nothing could or would happen. There was nothing wrong with a little harmless closeness.
“Where then? Where is the lock-in?
“I'm going to use the community center. They have showers for youth sports and camp, plus a lot of the social action agencies that can’t affiliate with one church or another feel more comfortable in that setting. I want everyone to feel welcome regardless of whether or not they belong to a church or are in a place to receive the Lord into their lives.”
“Wow, you are definitely different from Bishop. Better.”
“Different is fine. I’m not trying to be better than anyone. I only want to be the best me I can. You still haven’t answered my question though.”
“It sounds like a really worthwhile project. I’m not sure what I could bring to the table, but I would be happy to help. Do we spend the night there too?”
“Volunteers can work shifts, but the extra hands at night will be greatly appreciated. There’s crowd control and safety to consider. I’ll have security volunteers and some help from the local clinic.”
“Bess’s mother is going to be there?”
“No. It’s an all-male environment, remember. It’ll be someone she picks.”
“I would love to help out with something like that.” Looking at the flyer in my hand I found the date. “I can definitely do two weeks from now. I don’t have anything planned. I mean I don’t think I do. I can check my calendar. Telling Mama I’ll be back in two weeks to volunteer and that I won’t be home—let’s just say she’ll have some feelings about that.”
“You’re more than welcome to crash at my place.”
Did Malik Creswell invite me to stay at his place? If the universe or God were screwing with me for sport, it would… I would… Well, I didn’t know what I would do, but that kind of cruelty would need to be dealt with on some level. The way he was staring at me, waiting for my answer, made me think the offer wasn’t made by accident. If it was intentional, what the hell did it
mean? The silence between us was getting awkward, and I remembered I hadn’t answered.
“Okay.”
“I have a roommate, but he’s a firefighter, so if he’s home you can take the couch and if he’s on duty, I’m sure he won’t mind donating his room for the cause.”
“That is generous. I, um, yeah sure. Thank you and him.”
“We should exchange phone numbers in case something comes up. Plus, I wouldn’t mind driving to Nashville to check out your campus outreach program too.”
This was the weirdest and best conversation I ever had. I was certain that when my brain replayed it all, I would be plagued with doubt and self-recrimination, but at this moment I was floating on all the possibilities. Malik Creswell invited me to stay with him for the weekend. Holy hell.
“Asa, I need your number and you need your phone if you want mine.”
Fumbling in my pocket and dropping the flyer twice I still managed to get the phone out and exchange numbers without looking like too much of a dork. When Bess bounded back down the steps Malik was waving goodbye and I was standing there staring after him in lustful shock. What the hell had just happened and how did she manage to come out at the exact right time?
“All done?” Bess asked.
“What did you do?”
“That does not sound like, ‘thank you’!”
Bess took my hand and marched me back to her car. Was she pissed at me now? No. That’s crazy. I didn’t do anything wrong. She was the one who, who… I wasn’t exactly sure what she had done, but I knew it was something sneaky and underhanded and that she fully believed was for my own good.
Before she turned the key in the ignition, she turned to me. “You better have said yes. I didn’t do all of this for you to be a little chicken shit. Well?”
