by K. Webster
Malcolm
The drive down Broadway toward north Boulder is quiet aside from Edwin McCain’s “I’ll Be” crooning through the speakers. After a quick, intense interrogation by Scott’s cop friend, Officer Yates, Sorro flew back to hair and makeup while we bailed.
Why would someone try to hurt Sorro?
I think back to the other night when someone threw a bottle at Scott. Is this what homosexuals, bisexuals, and transgenders deal with on the norm? Such vicious hate just for existing? Sickness churns in my gut, making the tequila sour. I’d felt so helpless as Sorro stood in fear of the man trying to assault her. Scott, thank God, rushed the guy before he could hurt her. I was proud that my man bolted into action to do what was right for his friend.
My man…
It doesn’t sound bad rattling around in my brain.
“You can see Wonderland Lake from my house,” Scott says, breaking the silence. “My front and back yards are small as shit, but the view makes it worth it.”
He’s lost some of the tension that seemed to be buzzing from him since we left the club. As a result, I relax too.
“Do you swim in it?” I ask, trying and failing not to imagine him half naked and wet. Spoiler alert, it’s hot.
“Nah,” he says with a sigh. “Always too busy working. Never have time to do stuff like that.”
“Oh.”
He reaches over and squeezes my thigh. “But I’d make time if I had someone to do it with.”
This makes me smile and my heart do a hundred flips in my chest. But the moment he pulls into his driveway, anxiety creeps in. I agreed to come back to his place to watch a movie, but now that we’re here, I feel nervous.
I know I told him I wanted him to be mine and boldly kissed him for all to see, but now I worry he’ll want more than I’m ready to give. Like, I don’t even know how to do butt sex. I wasn’t lying when I said I was sheltered. The only porn I’ve stumbled on is what was in Madden’s jack-off mags and the occasional late-night Skinemax flick on television. But Cinemax doesn’t show queer sex. Just straight, plain, over-acting sex.
“These row houses used to be falling apart and eyesores, but then some rich developer out of California came in, bought up pretty much the entire area, and refurbed all the houses. This one cost me a pretty penny, but I love it. It has a media room, no shitting you.” He grins at me, pride shining in his eyes. “It’s only just over a thousand square feet but with the big windows and open floor plan, it feels bigger.”
He hops out of his Land Cruiser and soon he’s popping open my door in a gentlemanly gesture that never fails to make my heart race. The nerves from before have taken a backseat because his excitement is contagious. I take his offered hand and follow him up the porch steps and into his quaint, but trendy home.
Mom does well for our family and we don’t hurt for anything, but we’re still in the starter home she bought when she and Dad got together. She’s re-wallpapered the house more times than I can count as the fads change, but it’s never been as nice as Scott’s house.
“Wow,” I whisper. “This place is incredible.”
He laughs as he shuts the door behind us. Despite the showroom décor, it has his personality all over. From the yo-yos left all over the place on every surface to the bright, colored OK Computer Radiohead signed poster that’s framed and sitting on the mantle. It even smells like his Davidoff Cool Water with a hint of coffee bean.
I love it here.
“This place is amazing,” I praise as he picks up a yo-yo.
“I wish I saw more of it,” he says wistfully. “But maybe that’ll happen more now.”
I melt under his intense, suggestive gaze. Then, I become transfixed over how he effortlessly flicks his yo-yo out and does some cool tricks. It puts me at ease. Scott’s playfulness and easygoing demeanor have always had that effect on me.
“Want a drink?” he asks, setting the yo-yo down.
“I probably shouldn’t.”
“If you drink too much, you can stay the night.” His green eyes flare at the suggestion.
I’d be lying if I said my cock didn’t jolt at the searing look on his face. “How convenient,” I sass, making him smirk.
He chuckles before heading into his kitchen. The floors are a bright, golden brown wood that looks shiny enough to eat off of and his appliances are stainless steel, looking new as the day they were installed.
“Your kitchen is so clean,” I say, leaning against the granite countertop.
“You’d have to actually use it to dirty it up.” He shrugs as he opens a cabinet to pull out a bottle of tequila and some margarita mix. “Margaritas?” His head tilts to the side as he regards me and my stomach tightens. Something about him in his kitchen looking all domestic with eyes for only me has me wanting to jump up and down like a goober.
“Yeah,” I say with a faux grumble. “I guess.”
“Goodie,” he says, grinning wide. “Grab that jar of salsa out of the fridge and a bag of tortilla chips from the pantry.”
We spend the next few minutes working on our drinks and snacks, lost in amicable conversation. He gives me a quick tour of the rest of his house before showing me to the small theater room and then disappearing. I’m downing some chips minus the salsa when he walks back into the room wearing nothing but a pair of holey jeans.
I choke.
Sputter.
My heart stops altogether.
“What’s wrong?” he demands, rushing over to me, patting my back. “Is it too hot? You need water?”
Too hot all right.
“I’m fine,” I hiss, chugging down my margarita. “That chip went down the wrong pipe.”
He chuckles as he sits down beside me to fiddle with the remotes. I can’t take my eyes off his muscular body. His skin is pale, but he has tattoos inking him in places I wouldn’t mind licking. Whatever movie he chooses will be pointless because there is no way I’m taking my eyes off him tonight. Nope. No way. He’s a god and he’s gorgeous and for some crazy reason, he’s into me. I’m going to savor this moment.
“Oh,” he says, stopping at a movie. “I Still Know What You Did Last Summer. I love this one. Have you seen it?”
“Yeah, but I could watch it again,” I offer, knowing good and damn well I’m not going to be watching this movie.
He flashes me a crooked grin before tossing down the remote and sipping on his margarita. I practically gulp mine down to cool me off. A wave of heat simmers through me and I absently fan my face with my hand.
“You should take off your shoes and stay awhile,” he teases. “And your shirt too since you’re so hot.”
I squirm under his heated gaze. “I don’t look like you. Pass.”
His humor fades. “I wasn’t aware that we had to match.”
“Ugh,” I grumble. “You know what I mean. You’re so muscled and hot.”
Anger flashes in his green orbs. “You have to quit that shit.”
“Quit what?”
“Letting her…them…whoever the fuck get inside your head.” He scowls as he leans back on the sofa, crossing his arms over his chest. “You think I would pursue you relentlessly if I didn’t find you equally attractive? It pisses me off you can’t see what I see.”
Oh.
Okay, ouch.
Needing reassurance that he isn’t angry with me, I tentatively reach over and clutch his jean-clad thigh. My fingertip brushes over one of the holes, giving me a little feel of his hairy, muscular thigh.
“I’m sorry,” I squeak out. “I am.”
He lets out a resigned sigh. “I’m sorry too. It just infuriates me that people have beat down your self-esteem to the point it’s barely existent. If only you could see what I see.”
With shaking hands, I untuck my Polo and pull it off, tossing it to the floor. I kick off my shoes and give him a hesitant look. He no longer has his arms crossed over his chest and he stares at me hungrily. Weirdly, it helps blow up that deflated self-esteem bubble.
“Come here,” he rasps, reaching for my hip. “I want to look at you up close.”
Something about the seductive plea has me allowing him to drag me into his lap. My thighs straddle his waist and heat sears through me at our position. I’m about to explode with nerves, but I want to touch him. Gently, I reach out and place my palms on his pale, naked shoulders that feel like rocks. My dark skin against his paler flesh is a nice contrast that I like seeing. I slide my palms along the tops of his shoulders to his neck. He grins when my thumbs brush along the front of his throat.
“Let me taste those lips,” he says, his palms sliding up my bare back and bringing me closer.
I melt into his embrace, falling into his kiss with a sigh. He tastes salty but with a hint of his usual sweetness. I can’t get enough of him and desperately devour him. His cock is hard and straining against his jeans. Bravely, I rub my ass against his length. A growl rumbles from him and he rakes his fingertips down my back. Apparently we both like that. When I do it again, his hands fly to my belt.
Holy shit.
It’s happening.
I kiss him to distract myself from my fears. Will he just shove it in? Will it hurt? Or will I have to be the one shoving it in? Oh, God, maybe this is something we should talk about first. I wouldn’t know the first thing about fucking him and would probably end up hurting him. I should ask—
I cry out in pleasure the moment his large, warm hand wraps around my cock that he’s successfully freed. It’s the single most wonderful feeling I’ve encountered in my entire life. I whimper, unable to keep from bucking against his fist.
“Careful, kid,” he says with a chuckle. “You’re going to end it before we even get started.”
I’m about to recoil, worried I’m looking like an idiot, but then he’s licking his thumb. I’m transfixed by the way his hooded green eyes drink me in and his full, pink lips wrap around his thumb. Then, he rubs it against the crown of my dick, teasing the slit where pre-cum glistens from.
“Look at you all wet and juicy for me,” he croons. “I bet you taste fucking delicious.” His eyes lift. “Can I taste you, Mal?”
I’m unable to form words, so I nod emphatically. In a move that has me squealing, he flips me onto the sofa on my back and grins devilishly at me.
“Ever been to heaven?”
I roll my eyes. “Does that corny line work often?”
“Never tried it before. You’re my first. Does it work?”
I start to shake my head, but then he’s pulling my slacks and boxers down my thighs. My cock is thick and bouncing eagerly against my stomach. Once he’s shed my clothes and takes an annoyingly long time to remove my socks, he prowls back up my body to kiss me. I feel vulnerable and slightly terrified being that I’m the only one naked.
“I want to see you too,” I breathe.
He nips at my bottom lip. “No can do. If I get naked right now, we’re going to fuck.”
My heart stops. “I thought that’s what we’re doing.”
“No, we’re fooling around,” he says, sucking on my neck. “I’m going to suck your dick, Mal, and then we’ll watch the movie.”
“What about you?” I ask, moaning when he nips at my earlobe.
“You don’t have to worry about me. Tonight is about you.”
I can’t help but smile at his words. Scott is a fantasy come to life. A dream that’s somehow my reality. It’s weird to be…spoiled. I guess that’s the only word I can come up with. Scott spoils me with affection and attention and praise. I could get used to it. That’s for damn sure.
He kisses his way down my chest but stops to lick my nipple. It hardens under his touch. When he sucks it hard into his mouth, my back arches as pain flares from my nipple.
“Yummy,” he says with a wicked grin and is back on his path toward my dick.
By the time he reaches my dick, I’m about to come. I’m desperate to have him do what only my hand has ever done. I could die after this moment and feel like I’ve accomplished everything I wanted out of life.
His white hand wraps around my dark brown cock and it’s mesmerizing to look at. He leans forward, his green eyes pinning me in place, and teases my crown with the tip of his tongue. I choke on the intense pleasure coursing through me. Emboldened by the sounds I’m making, he wraps his lips around my thick cock, straining to take my size, and sets to sucking me off.
Holy shit.
Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.
My hips bounce up, eager for more of his hot mouth. He presses a palm to my stomach, trapping me down on the couch as he has his way with me. Each time his cheeks hollow from sucking me down, my nuts seize up with the promise of release. It takes everything in me to hold off. I grab onto his brown hair and fixate on this perfect man. His hand that’s not stroking my dick begins to fondle my sensitive balls, making me moan in pleasure. Everything feels so good. He drags his middle finger along the base of my cock, wetting it, and then he slides it down below my balls to my ass.
My cheeks clench in anticipation and he laughs around my cock. I’d be agitated if it weren’t for the fact that even his laughs feel good on my dick.
“Scott,” I whine, trying and failing to ignore the tingling sensation tightening my balls. “I’m going to come.”
He presses his fingertip against my asshole and then gently eases it inside of my hole as he takes my cock as deep into his throat as he can go. I’m torn between hating the burn in my ass and loving the way he swallows my damn dick. It’s pleasure and pain rolled into one.
“Oh fuck,” I cry out, finally losing the battle. My balls draw up as my dick drains my release into his waiting mouth.
After he swallows it down, he slides off my dick but keeps his offending finger inside me, his green eyes hot with lust as he fingerfucks me with it. It burns like a motherfucker, but I kind of like it.
“You’ve corrupted me,” I say helplessly.
He laughs. “And you like that I have.”
Scott
He winces and his brown eyes flare with panic each time I push deeper into his asshole. I want nothing more than to destroy his virgin ass, but not without prepping him first. We’ll get there one day. Unfortunately, tonight is not that day.
“Anal sex isn’t like vaginal sex between a man and a woman,” I explain as I stretch his insanely tight hole. “With a woman, all you need is to get her wet and slide home.” His ass clenches. “But with anal sex, you have to get used to the foreign intrusion. My wet finger is fine for now, but when you take two, we’ll need lube.” Gently, I slide my finger out of his ass. “Did you enjoy your first blowjob?”
The fear fades and his eyes grow soft. “I loved it. I’ve never, uh, I don’t know what I’m…but I could…”
I bite his nipple to shush him. He squeals, making me laugh.
“You can blow me one day. Tonight I want to feel your hand around me,” I murmur, kissing my way up his chest.
He wastes no time yanking at the button on my jeans. Once he has them unzipped, he dives his hand into my white Calvin Klein boxer briefs and grips my cock. My cock is a nice size, but his is huge. Probably the biggest cock I’ve ever tried to choke down. It makes me relieved to know it’s not going in my ass.
That thought gives me pause.
“I was prepping you assuming you wanted to bottom,” I say, lifting up to look at him. “But I didn’t consider if you wanted to top.”
He frowns in confusion, his hand slowing its movement. “What does that mean?”
I thrust my hips to remind him to keep working my dick. “Bottom means when we have sex, I’ll fuck you. Top means when we have sex, you fuck me. Get it?”
His lips part. “Ohhh.” Panic flashes in his brown eyes behind his glasses. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’d probably mess up.”
“So you’re saying you want me to be the one doing all the fucking?” I tease, thrusting my hips again.
He lets out a relieved sigh. “Y-Yes, I mean, if that’s okay.”
> “I prefer it that way, but I was willing to try new things with you,” I tell him, my voice raspy as pleasure zings through me. “But I must admit, I was a little fearful of the monster you’re packing.”
“You don’t have to fear it,” he says with a nervous laugh. “It’s docile.”
I snort and nip at his neck. “Mine’s a savage.”
“Oh God,” he whines. “Now I’m scared.”
“My wild dick can be tamed into behaving sometimes,” I admit before sucking his neck.
His fist works me up and down. Every guy has experience with this activity and Mal is no different. He easily works me up into a crazed frenzy until I’m spilling my load all over his torso. When I’m spent, I collapse on top of him, uncaring of my mess that’s slick between us as I suck and kiss at his neck.
“I could get used to this,” I murmur, my breath hot against his skin.
He shivers. “Me too.”
I wake with a hard-on and a familiar scent in my nose.
Malcolm.
His warm body is tucked against mine, our dicks sandwiched together barely held back by our underwear, as he sleeps. After we cleaned up last night and finished the movie, Mal fell asleep. I decided I wanted him in my bed and carried him to it. At some point in the night, he must have decided he liked being there because he cuddled right up against me.
I think about all the relationships in the past. How none felt like this. Fast, furious, fiery. Malcolm sucks the breath from me and demands my ultimate attention to the point I feel obsessed with him. Whereas dates in the past led to casual sex and maybe repeat dates, nothing has ever led to having someone in my bed whom I wanted to keep there.
I could spend days with him, slowly edging him to the point where we could fuck for real. Kissing and touching and messing around. Hell, I could just keep him here, entertained by the way his voice hitches up when he’s excited about something or squeaks when he’s nervous. I want to memorize all his quirks.
