by James Lear
‘Lie on your front,’ he said, ‘and let your mind go empty.’
I did as I was told. Adrian knelt beside me, rubbing oil into his hands. With the first touch, I felt something snap inside me—not my shoulder this time, no trapped nerve, but something deeper. I felt helpless and hopeless, as if nothing would ever matter to me again. I saw myself getting dressed and leaving, a handshake, perhaps, nothing more, and it was so vivid that I had to open my eyes and look at the room to convince myself I was still here.
‘Relax, Joe. Everything’s going to be fine.’
‘Is it?’
‘Just shut up for a while. Let me do this.’
His hands took over, and all I could do was breathe and respond to his touch. There was pain sometimes as he pushed into a muscle, there were moments of euphoria as he made long stroking movements. Everything was limp now, not just my dick . . . I couldn’t even feel my dick. It must have floated away, and if I closed my eyes, I could see it rising through black space like a strange pink bird flying.
I woke up when Adrian straddled me, I don’t know how much later, and I felt the heat of his ass at the base of my spine. His hands never left my back, my neck, my scalp, and my temples, he kept massaging, but now he was moving too, pressing himself up and down on me. He shifted again, and now he was lying on me, his cock hard, slipping in the oil. At least one of us wasn’t impotent. Well, he can fuck me. I’ll just lie here and take it. I owe him that much at least.
He leaned forward and kissed me on the side of my face. ‘Oh, Joe . . . you turn me on so much.’
All I could say was ‘Mmmmm,’ because obviously he didn’t turn me on that much, quite the opposite in fact; faced with so much love and desire, I just froze.
‘I want you now.’
I twisted my head round so he could kiss me. What could I do? I wanted to flee.
His cock was thrusting between my buttocks, finding its own way.
We kissed more, his full weight on top of me, yet I felt weightless, like a spaceman.
The tip of his cock pressed against my hole—a brief, slippery contact, but something happened.
‘Oh!’
‘What?’
‘Do that again.’
He understood me, and placed himself against me, pressing a little this time. It worked. The flow of blood was reversed. I raised my hips, pressing back against him, and he almost slipped inside. Adrian rolled off me and replaced his cock with a finger, pushing it in. And that was it: I was hard, as if Adrian had simply pressed the ‘on’ button. I lifted my arse up to meet him, and then he was fully inside me. My cock lengthened and straightened, and it felt as if it would go on forever, a foot long, a yard, a mile.
Adrian gripped it. ‘There you are. Welcome back.’
‘I could come at any second.’
‘Not yet. Wait.’
Swiftly, skillfully, he rolled a condom onto himself, lubed up, and got into position. I shifted onto all fours.
‘Ready?’
‘I’m ready.’
He pushed in fast and hard, but there was no pain, just relief. My cock stayed hard, and I held off for long enough to allow him to establish a rhythm, fucking me with a kind of precision, his cock hitting my prostate with every stroke. He knew exactly what he was doing.
It was too much to stand for long, and without being precisely aware of when it began, I was soon shooting all over the bed, without even touching myself. All I had to do was press back against him, to let him fuck me with that strange efficiency, and there was no need for hands.
Adrian came inside me, pounding into me, our muscles fighting against each other to maintain the position, the exact alignment that had brought us both to this moment.
It was over. He pulled out, discarded the condom, lay beside me until we got cold, and climbed beneath the covers and slept.
And this is now—this moment that might be the first or the last, when Adrian and I have fought our way to a kind of peace, a respite from the battle, and we can sleep together, our bodies joined, our selves merging.
It may last for an hour, a day, or a week. I can’t see beyond that. Outside this room, there is a world that has claims on me, there are enemies lying in ambush, and there is the fear that, somehow, I can’t do what I want to do. I can’t give Adrian what he needs. I’m not the man for the job. I’ll be found out.
But at least for now, I can sleep without dreams, and when I wake up, he will still be there, in my arms, and I in his. Perhaps we’ll wake up in the night to fuck again, or in the morning to plan a new day, a future.
Perhaps, in fact, this is all a dream, and I’ll wake up alone in Nicky’s bed.
Oh, Adrian, please stay. Don’t be a dream. Be real, and let me be real, and let me have this chance. I can’t go on without you. This is it, make or break.
Adrian, I love you, I have always loved you, and I will always love you, if only life will let me.
