My Real Boyfriend

by Val Francis

  Before I had a chance to change my mind, Elmo had dragged his temporary boyfriend by the hand into the bedroom and slammed the door behind them.

  After taking a moment to digest events, I said, “We have a problem, Gus.”

  “What sort of problem?”

  Perhaps I imagined it, but it felt as if his hand, still grasping my thigh firmly, had squeezed a little tighter the moment I said “problem.” I cleared my throat and spoke. “There’s only one spare bedroom.”

  “So?”

  Thinking quickly, I said, “I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

  Gus laughed at my idea. “We’re trying to convince Elmo we’re boyfriends so that he’ll leave you alone. Do you think him finding you on the sofa is likely to do that?” he inquired.

  “You have a better idea?” I raised my eyebrows and waited.

  “We can sleep in the same room, no big deal. Nothing has to happen.” Gus glanced at me sideways.

  “I guess not.” Could he feel my leg trembling from the touch of his hand?

  Gus said, “We’re both sensible adults.”

  “True.” That might be right for Gus, but I was less sure about myself.

  “Nothing has to h-happen?”

  Was it my wishful thinking, or had I detected a catch in Gus’ voice as he’d said that?

  “Is it my imagination, or could it be getting a lot hotter in here?” Gus sounded breathless.

  “The bedroom is cooler... there’s a fan.” I had begun to sweat like a pig. Before I could chicken out and change my mind, I forwent the near-orgasmic touch of his hand on my leg and stood up. Gus jiggled his leg and his eyes appeared to be firmly fixed on my groin.

  “Nothing has to happen,” Gus said.

  Yawning as though to reassure him sleep would be the only thing I had in mind, I casually said, “No... nothing.” With that, I turned and headed into the bedroom. Once inside, while I waited for him, two thoughts ran through my mind. Firstly, why did I feel so comfortable around Gus when my condition dictated that strangers ought to by rights freak me out? Secondly, I wondered why I felt so happy that Elmo had returned and forced Gus and I to share a bed. I was filled with nervous anticipation.

  “Do you mind if I have a shower?”

  His voice made me jump. “Sure, there’s towels in there, and a spare toothbrush if you want it.” I waited, disappointed, as he went inside and closed the bathroom door behind him. The voyeuristic side of me had anticipated the pleasure of seeing him undress. Instead, I saw my own reflection as I removed my clothes and folded them for the laundry hamper. I even pondered the idea of exploiting the hamper’s location in the bathroom, right next to the shower, as a perfect excuse to go in and dispose of them while Gus stood there, wet and naked. Sadly, a sense of decency warned me against doing that.

  Dressed in a pair of tight sleep shorts and a t-shirt, I stretched out on the bed and listened to the running water that had the privilege of caressing Gus’ beautiful body. By the time he had showered and dried himself, the titanic struggle I had been engaged in to prevent my erect cock from popping through the fly of my sleep shorts had almost been lost. The bloody thing appeared determined to surface for air. When Gus reappeared, I needed to sit on the side of the bed so I could face away from him and hide it.

  “It’s all yours, Ed.” He wore his towel around his waist and a beautiful smile on his face.

  “I had my shower while I waited for you to come back from your place,” I explained. “I’m clean and—” I quickly sniffed my armpits “—I don’t smell.” With the belief I had said too much, I kept my back to him and undertook a crab-like walk to the bathroom.

  * * * *

  Hearing Ed’s nervous chatter had given me a boner not to be ashamed of. What the poor guy had failed to realise was I could see his reflection in the mirrored wardrobe doors, and I had liked what I saw. Slowly, hoping he would come out of the bathroom and catch me, I dropped my towel and stood there naked. Surveying myself in Ed’s mirror, I knew I wanted the night to be more than two guys having an innocent sleepover. Through his revealingly tight shorts, I had seen that Ed possessed a tempting butt, well rounded and tight, the kind of ass I spend too much time dreaming about. I wasn’t saying I was promiscuous, anything but. In the two years since I left the States, I had not slept with a single guy, and my only sex had been my growing relationship with my right hand along with a fertile imagination. Nevertheless, I doubt Ed would be interested in somebody like me, a mere nurse while he was a famous writer. Earlier, when he had been in the kitchen, I had snuck a peek at his bookcase and seen some of his work there, and I had even read most, if not all, of his books. No, Ed had to be out of my league.

  Coming out of the bathroom, Ed hesitated before approaching the bed, where I lay with the sheet pulled up to my waist. “Am I okay on this side or would you prefer if we swapped?” I asked.

  “No, you’re f-f-fine, Gus.”

  Perhaps the return of his stutter was merely due to nervousness. Inhibited by his social anxiety disorder, I doubted Ed would have a lot of guys sleeping over. I watched him getting into the bed beside me and knew the rate of my breathing had increased. The bed felt comfortable, no sag or bounce as he got in or laid out flat the same as me. Perhaps staring at the ceiling was a popular pastime?

  “You’re s-s-scared of heights?” he asked suddenly.

  “You’ve got me. My biggest fear—falling from a great height.” It was something I usually attempted to hide from people.

  “I guess it would hurt if you did that... fell from thirty-five floors up.”

  We were both quiet for a couple of minutes. “How did you know, Ed?”

  “Your reaction when I said f-f-for you to open a window. You instinctively moved in the opposite direction.”

  “Oh... you’re observant, Ed.”

  “Guess that’s because I’m a writer.”

  “I like your writing,” I told him.

  Ed chuckled. “You don’t have to pretend, Gus. I like you even if you think my writing’s rubbish.”

  “I’m not pretending, I’ve read most of your books.” Vanity then made me proceed to rattle off their titles to impress him further.

  “Wow, you really have read them.”

  “Believe me, Ed, I’m a fan.” I returned his chuckle and then said, “A big fan.” My declaration was meant to tell him my fan-hood covered more than mere devotion to his books. We were silent as he digested that.

  Finally, Ed said, “I’ve never met a real fan before.”

  “You must have.” When he answered, his words saddened me.

  “My condition prevents that... apart from Elmo, you’re the only person I’ve really talked to in almost two months. Even my groceries I buy online,” he added.

  Unable to think of anything to say to that, we both lay there silent in the semi-darkness with only the stars and streetlights below to illuminate us. We stared at the ceiling, probably both of us too afraid to admit what we were thinking.

  Suddenly, the silence was wrecked by a series of loud moans followed by howls, the sounds so loud they penetrated the apartment walls. Together the plaintive cries brought back memories of a camping trip to Bluff, Arizona, where the yips of coyotes had filled the air and sent shivers down my spine.

  * * * *

  “Bloody hell... here we go again.” Cousin Elmo had never been quiet during sex, and to my shame, the sounds he made excited me. They also served as a reminder of what I was missing out on... all because of my fucking SAD. Talk about an appropriate acronym. “Sorry about this, Gus,” I apologised through my clenched teeth.

  “You’re okay.”

  If it was okay, why then did he sound sort of strange and breathless? I heard the sheet rustling and knew it couldn’t be my side of the bed. I had been careful and had wrapped my hand around my stiffening cock without moving too much or making any odd sounds. Unless—maybe the sob I had just produced, unintentionally, might have been a
bit of a giveaway.

  “Are you all right there, Ed?”

  “Sure.” I felt anything but all right. “They’ll finish soon.” I lied. Elmo’s performances tended to last for several rounds, but I didn’t want to think about that, not with Gus in bed beside me.

  “Is he always this loud?” he asked.

  I had no idea if my mind had begun to play tricks on me, but I had a definite feeling Gus’ voice had gone up an octave. It did not help matters much that the night temperature had only dropped one degree and I was starting to feel like a turkey overdue for basting. “Do you want the fan on?” I asked him without stopping to think. With my current erection, volunteering to get out of bed would be fraught with difficulty.

  “Yeah, please Ed.”

  “No problem,” I lied. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I mentally prepared for a quick dash to the control panel. An easy manoeuvre in a darkened room, or so I thought. Working with words as my tool of trade, I could say a good definition of manoeuvre is, a deliberate, coordinated movement requiring both dexterity and skill. What I did in the darkened room did not fit that definition by any stretch of the imagination.

  Nervous at the prospect of sharing a bed with Gus in the first place, I had been untidy and discarded my joggers in two different places. To make it worse, my shorts were halfway down my thighs due to touching myself up in response to Elmo’s performance and Gus’ close proximity. So, as luck would have it, I not only managed to trip over one shoe but, recovering from my initial stumble, I then proceeded to trip over the other one. Combined with my shorts, by then halfway down my legs, the disaster left me sprawled flat out on the floor. “Bloody shit of a thing,” I swore, or words to that effect, loudly enough to be heard above Elmo’s impending climax.

  Meanwhile, Gus, ever caring, had switched on the light so he could rush to my assistance. What he saw was me, with my bare arse in the air as I struggled to get up while my shorts remained bunched somewhere between my thighs and knees. To crown the beautiful sight, my proud erection had remained as rigid as ever.

  “Have you hurt yourself, Ed?”

  His speed at getting out of bed had him kneeling beside my upturned arse before I could so much as think of dignity. “I’m okay,” I reassured him.

  “I’ll help you sit, Ed.”

  Perhaps it was the nurse in him, but I knew resisting his help would do me no good, and I allowed him to manoeuvre me until I sat on the carpet. He said nothing, just kneeled there next to me as he silently contemplated my erection. His expression betrayed his thoughts and forced the diversion of my own eyes to a magnificent sight that made my cock throb with greater intensity.

  Gus’ excitement threatened to rip the seams of his shorts if I were lucky. I know I gulped a couple of times, but thinking of anything suitable to say appeared beyond my current mental capability. Gus experienced no such problem.

  “Fuck, you are so hot, Ed.”

  We were all entitled to a stupid moment, but it pissed me off I had to suffer mine at that particular instant. “Yeah... it is a bit warm in here, isn’t it?” I replied. Meanwhile, Elmo noises grew progressively louder while I grew harder and sprang a leak.

  Shaking his head, Gus smiled with amusement. “I’ve never met a guy like you,” he told me.

  “Oh.” I had become suddenly tongue-tied. Was what he said good or bad? So, overcoming all my phobias and anxieties, I asked, “Good or bad?”

  Instead of answering, Gus leaned over, and he kissed me—not a long kiss, maybe not even all that passionate such as you see in the movies. However, for me, though, it was a nice kiss—actually, my first ever kiss from somebody other than my mother or a couple of my aunties.

  A moment later, when our lips separated, Gus asked me, “Was that good or bad?”

  I had my eyes closed. I could smell the scent of his body, his sweat from the summer heat. “It was perfect,” I told him. “Better than that—hot.”

  “It’s hot, it’s summer. Summer’s hot... you’re hot, Ed.”

  Never in my life had I imagined a guy would think of me in sexual terms. Those things happened to Elmo while I was destined to be stuck on the other side of the wall listening in. I still could not quite believe it. “I should put the fan on, Gus.”

  “Why?”

  “To cool us down.”

  “I don’t want to cool down, Ed.”

  “M-m-m... M-m-m-aybe h-h...” The words died on my tongue.

  “Why are you suddenly starting to stutter, Ed? You’ve barely stuttered since I arrived.”

  Gus was right, it happened to be illogical and silly. I had nothing to fear from him. Or did I? People never saw the real me. I kept myself safe by avoiding any emotions, Elmo excepted.

  “B-b-because I’m sc-c-ared.”

  “Honey, you don’t have to be scared of me.” Gus’ expression displayed genuine concern.

  “It’s not you... it’s me.”

  “What do you mean?” Gus appeared slightly confused. “There’s nothing to be scared of, is there?” he asked.

  * * * *

  Watching Ed as he tried to explain, I attempted to put myself in his shoes so I could better understand his thoughts. Imagining Ed as a modern-day Rapunzel, locked away in his ivory tower, I guessed intimacy of any sort could be an enormous challenge.

  “I like you a hell of a lot, Ed.” I knew I meant every word of it and I decided not to try too hard to understand what had happened. He looked back at me as though I had said something too ridiculous for words.

  “Why would you like me?” he asked with genuine surprise. “I suffer from enough social anxieties to have a sane person running for the hills. I ought to frighten you, Gus.”

  Shrugging, I said, “Maybe I’m not sane. Does a sane person feel like I do after such a short time?”

  He shook his head in disbelief. “You could have anybody you wanted.”

  “I happen to like you, Ed, because you’re smart, witty, funny, very good looking...” I took the opportunity to waggle my eyebrows suggestively. At the same time, I could not suppress the sigh that came of its own accord. “And... besides that, you really are a nice person who I would like to know better.” For the first time in two years, I felt a genuine connection with someone. It was bizarre to say the least, when I stopped to remember I had only known him for a few hours.

  As effective as a contraceptive, Elmo chose that precise moment to climax.

  Elmo’s exuberant cries had an instant effect on both of us, and we collapsed with hysterical laughter and rolled around on the bedroom carpet like a couple of kids having heard the latest fart joke. Eventually, when the laughing died down, we simply lay there, Ed still with his shorts around his knees and me willing to get that way the moment I received the slightest encouragement. The charged atmosphere posed the question, what next? “Shall we get back in bed?” I whispered.

  Ed said nothing. Instead, he simply stood and pulled his shorts up, so his softening erection no longer appeared quite so flagrant. His rearrangements completed, he climbed back onto the bed and waited.

  Obviously, I would have to be the one to take the next step, so when I joined him, instead of claiming my appointed side of the bed, I lay right next to him so we touched. Eventually, I made myself ask him the question that had certainly been lingering in the back of my mind. “So, have you ever...”

  “Just one guy... we didn’t kiss, I blew him and he jerked me off, Gus.”

  There was no hiding his nervousness. I felt his whole body, pressed hard next to mine, tensing. “You’re scared?”

  “Yes.”

  “But would you...” I waggled my eyebrows rather than say the words. “It’s no problem if you don’t want to... there’s nothing compulsory about it,” I added quickly.

  * * * *

  I supplied my answer in the only way I could think of that would not have me stuttering. Shifting my hand until its palm lay flat atop of Gus’ thigh, I slowly began t
o stroke it up and down, gradually extending my range until it became perilously close to Gus’ groin. His breathing came in short, ragged breaths that, when I gripped tighter and slid higher, became gasps as my fingers finally reached their prize.

  Gus exhaled with a rush the moment my fingers tentatively encircled him. “That feels good,” he praised.

  “Does it?” I embraced Gus’ sentiment but lacked confidence. Finally, gathering my courage together, I asked, “W-w-what s-s-should I d-d-do?”

  Gratefully, Gus hadn’t turned out to be one of those people that became impatient and tried to complete my sentences for me. So, we lay there, my hand on Gus’ erection, my fingertips exploring his length and teasing the knob, marvelling at his size and thickness. “D-d-do you li-ke that?” I asked.

  “More than you can imagine.” Gus’ voice sounded husky.

  Without removing my hand from his cock, I managed to flip myself onto one side, which enabled me to look down at Gus. The sight of him with his eyes half-closed and his lips trembling slightly brought a smile to my face. Though I had no idea why, something about the way Gus looked settled me. He made me feel comfortable, comfortable enough to suspect I could do whatever my heart desired with him.

  Not speaking, reluctant to risk another stutter, I lowered my head until I felt his breath against my mouth. A flash of unhappy memory reminded me of my post-puberty years when I had been denied the one thing I had craved, of the times I had thought, if only.

  “Please.” The single word spoke of Gus’ hunger and granted me permission to do whatever I wanted. And then he mewed his approval as I brushed against him, my tongue ... tempting him... testing.

  Finally, unable to wait any longer, I crushed my lips against Gus’, clumsily clicking our teeth together in my eagerness. Slowly, though, I relaxed and allowed Gus to enter my mouth until our tongues touched, shyly at first prior to launching into the age-old dance. I threw my leg over Gus and heaved myself up.