by Day, Xondra
“Well, what do you expect? I work construction. I sweat, and in this weather, I’m going to stink.” He loved getting her worked up.
“Just go.” She dismissed him with one hand, not bothering to look his way. “And wear something nice.”
* * * *
Wear something nice. Didn’t he always…look nice?
Jeff stepped into the shower and lathered up, feeling the bar of soap slide across his torso.
Why had Ann brought his encounter up? It wasn’t that he was embarrassed about it. Hell, thinking back to it, it usually always made him hard whenever he thought about it. But eighteen was many years ago, and he wasn’t the same man he was now.
Marcus.
It started by accident, quite literally, that summer just after his eighteenth birthday in August.
They were best friends since kindergarten, and over the years growing up together, their bond increased. Hell, they were more like brothers, the next best thing to blood kin. Thinking about it brought a smile to his lips.
Jeff’s parents had taken a trip out of town to his Aunt Marley’s. And with the house to himself, it was already decided that Marcus would stay the weekend. The plan was simple—hang out, play video games, order pizza, and drink beer from his father’s stash.
“When are the parentals back?” asked Marcus, cracking open a can of beer.
“Not until Sunday, maybe Monday. It depends on how long Dad can tolerate Aunt Marley. They don’t get along that well.”
“Your dad’s cool. Much cooler than mine.”
Jeff grabbed a beer. “Your dad’s okay, just a bit stuffy.”
Marcus laughed and then took a sip of beer. “That’s the biggest understatement of the year, man.”
“Let’s not talk about them. They’re not here, so what do you want on the pizza?” He liked everything besides anchovies. What the fuck were they anyway? Fish? Gross!
“I’m flexible. Everything besides those fucking little fish. Who the hell would want fish on a pizza? Blech!”
He grabbed the phone and keyed in the number to the pizza place. After relaying their order, he hung up. “It’ll be here in thirty minutes.”
“Great.” Marcus guzzled the rest of his beer. “That pizza was fucking great.”
“Gotta love it,” he added, guzzling the little he had left. Two more and he’d be buzzed.
Video games, pizza, beer, and no one telling them what to do. Could life get any better? Jeff didn’t think so, and neither did Marcus, it seemed, who now lay on the floor next to him totally buzzed.
The pizza hadn’t lasted long, and now they were down to the last few beers.
“This is boring,” said Jeff, tossing the game’s controller to one side. “There are only so many zombies a guy can kill before they all start looking alike.” He lay back on the floor, the room spinning slightly due to the alcohol he had drunk.
“Jeff…can I ask you something? I don’t want you to think I’m weird or anything, but well…why don’t you have a girlfriend?”
He didn’t think Marcus was weird, but the question was rather strange. “I dunno.” He shrugged. “They don’t seem to be interested in me.” He’d felt up Penny Parsons once, and they kissed. It wasn’t much. He did get excited at the time. “Sure, you don’t have one. You’re not one to talk, bud.”
“I guess not, but I do have my reasons.” Marcus sat up, looking down at him.
“Like what?”
“We’re friends, right?”
Of course they were friends. Hell, he was closer to this guy more than any other person in the world. “You know better than to ask that. It’s a stupid question.”
“Friends never turn their backs on each other. That’s the way it’s supposed to be.”
He nodded. “Always. Unless that friend does something crazy like murdering someone.” He laughed.
“I can totally see that.” A half grin curled across Marcus’s lips. “I like guys,” he blurted.
“You like guys? I don’t get it. Is this one of your strange jokes?” The guy was always fucking around.
“I’m not.”
Jeff could tell from the look on his buddy’s face that he really wasn’t. He stared at the ceiling, not knowing what to say next. He needed another beer, or two.
“So…do you hate me?”
“Jesus, no. I just don’t understand. You don’t look or act gay. And you had that thing with Christie last summer. Did she know?”
“Christie was just a friend. We only ever kissed. She didn’t know. Hell, last summer I wasn’t even sure about it myself. I had the feelings and thoughts, but I never acted on them.”
He had thought about men before. He guessed that most guys did at one point in their life.
In the showers at school, he’d seen many guys naked, many cocks. He wondered what it would be like to touch another one. The idea made him stiff in more ways than one, knowing this about Marcus.
“I don’t have a problem with it. You’re still the same guy to me.”
Marcus smiled. “That means a lot, Jeff. It really does. You’re the only other person I knew I had to tell, besides my parents and sister.”
“You told them?”
“No. I plan on it…soon.”
“Man, you got some nerve. My dad would fucking freak if he knew I was queer.” Just as he said that word, he regretted it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by that.”
“It’s fine. I know you didn’t. My dad’s gonna freak. I’ve heard him talk about gay people before, and it wasn’t good.”
“Yeah. Some people are idiots. Fuck the world. If people don’t like it, that’s their problem. You have to make yourself happy.”
“I plan on it,” said Marcus.
“What’s it like, to like another guy like that?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I haven’t done it yet.” Marcus blushed as he answered. “I’ve seen stuff…online.”
“Porn?”
“Yeah.”
Now he was curious. Two guys doing it? He wanted to see that! “Show me,” he said.
“What?” Marcus raised one brow.
“Show me what you watch, on my computer.” He sat up and then stood. “Come on.”
“Are you sure?” asked Marcus, walking behind down the hallway leading to his bedroom.
“Yup, I’m sure. I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.” Already his cock was hard as a rock inside his jeans. As he walked, he wondered if his best friend was eyeing his ass. The thought only added to his excitement.
“So, what site is it?” he asked, opening up his favorite search engine.
Marcus sat beside him, his hands folded in his lap. “It’s Hot Jocks with Big Cocks.” This time he blushed bright red.
Jeff smirked. “Great name. Big dicks it is, then.” He typed the name into the search engine and waited for the results. “There it is,” he said, clicking on the site. The site lived up to its name, big time!
He flicked through some pictures of guys stroking themselves. “Which ones do you prefer?” he asked, turning to Marcus. “Fuck, that guy’s huge.” It had to be the biggest cock ever, at least ten inches and super thick. He wondered how anyone, male or female, would be able to take it.
“This is weird. Close it out. You’re my best friend since forever, and this is way too strange. I know you’re cool with it, but you don’t have to prove it to me.”
“Which guy, Marcus?” Their eyes linked, and for a moment nothing was exchanged between them but a look, a look that said much more than words could have at that time.
“Him.” Marcus pointed at a dark-haired, handsome guy with an extremely thick piece of meat and tattoos covering both of his heavily muscled arms. “I think he’s hot.”
The beer had made him bold. Jeff swallowed hard, his cock throbbing, needing attention. “Are you turned on?”
“What? Why are you asking this?” Marcus looked mortified as he chewed his lip.
Jeff glanced down at his buddy’s c
rotch. He was. It was obvious. “You are. How big are you? I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
“You’re serious?”
“Dead serious. Take it out.” He couldn’t believe what he was saying. He was beyond caring.
Marcus licked his lips. “You first.”
He didn’t care. He’d go first, it wasn’t a big deal. He unzipped his jeans and reached inside the fly of his boxer shorts, retrieving his cock. It popped out, and he stroked it a few times. “What do you think?”
“That’s…” said Marcus. “That’s so fucking hot.” He looked entranced with the sight.
“You like? You can touch it if you want. I don’t mind.” They were friends and this was just between them.
Marcus fell to his knees. With one hand, he reached out but hesitated to touch Jeff, as if it might be some terrible joke.
“Go ahead.”
“I have thought about you before,” admitted his best friend. “Hell, I’ve dreamt about touching you, and doing more.”
“More? Like what?”
“I wanna suck your cock, taste you.”
Marcus curled his fingers around Jeff’s cock, pulling his foreskin upward.
“Yeah, that feels awesome. Jack my cock,” he said. “If you want to suck it, do it.”
“I’ve never done it before”
“Now’s the time to learn. Practice on me all you want.” He leaned back in the chair and spread his legs. When he felt Marcus take his cock into his mouth, he groaned, marveling at the feeling. He placed one hand behind Marcus’s head and guided him along. “That’s it, suck my cock, buddy. Make me feel good.”
Their little adventure didn’t move anything past that blow job. It was an experience that Jeff wouldn’t forget anytime soon.
Marcus moved away a couple months later, after he’d finally came out to his parents. After that, they lost contact. The last Jeff heard Marcus was living overseas in England with some guy.
Chapter Three
Ann felt just a little bit naughty for teasing Jeff about his encounter, as they called it. It didn’t bother her. When he’d first told her, she found it amusing but also titillating thinking about him being with another man. Though she neglected to tell him that.
Placing a pot full of water on one of the two inside stove burners, she turned the flame on high, and waited for it to start to boil. When it did, she placed the spaghetti into the water and popped the garlic bread into the oven.
“Is he here yet?” asked Jeff, trudging into the kitchen dressed in a pair of faded black jeans and a white, button-up, cotton shirt, his hair still wet.
“Not yet. He should be here soon. It’s about that time.”
“What can I do to help?”
“For starters, you can put on a pair of socks,” she answered, looking down at his bare feet.
“So, no picking my toes with my teeth at the table then while he’s here?”
Ann closed her eyes. “That’s disgusting.”
“White or black?”
“I’ll let you decide. Surprise me.”
“Be back in a minute.”
Ann watched him walk away, admiring the way his behind looked all snug inside his jeans. Jeff had an awesome, round, firm ass.
Sauce, spaghetti, garlic bread…wine.
Ann looked to the set table, feeling pleased with herself for its casual yet understated elegant look. Thank you, Martha Stewart!
She jumped when she heard a knock at the front door. It had to be Mike. With a sidelong glance in the hall mirror as she passed to check herself, she sucked in a breath and opened the door.
* * * *
“You’re looking fine,” said Mike, pulling back a bit, giving Ann the once over. He held out a bottle of wine in his right hand. “I figured it would be only right to bring something after your kind offer.”
“That’s very generous. Thanks. Please, come in. Everything’s almost ready to go.”
“Nice house.” He looked around as he followed her down the long hallway that stretched throughout the house’s core to the kitchen. “How long have you lived here?” He knew the neighborhood dated back to the forties. The realtor had told him that.
“We moved in ten years ago. It didn’t look like this when we moved in. My husband, Jeff, works construction. He did most of the work himself. We practically gutted the place to get it to our liking.”
“You’ve both done a marvelous job. My place needs a slight overhaul.”
“I figured as much. The Donaldsons lived there forever.”
“That would explain the wallpaper in the bedroom,” he said with a smirk.
Ann rolled her eyes, setting the bottle of wine on the countertop. “I can only imagine. The woman had a penchant for pink.”
“And roses,” he added. “The bedroom is all things floral.”
“That’s just so wrong in so many ways. If you need help, I’d be more than willing when you’re ready to start things, and I’m sure Jeff would. He enjoys doing stuff like that.”
“Great. I’ll keep that in mind.” He sniffed the air. His stomach rumbled. Whatever she was cooking smelled absolutely delicious. “Italian?”
“What was that?” asked Ann.
“The smell.”
“Spaghetti. It’s nothing fancy, but my sauce is rather nice.”
“Indeed it is,” added another voice, male.
Sweet Jesus divine! The man standing in front of him was sex personified, poured into one hell of a pair of well-fitting jeans.
“I’m Jeff,” said the dreamboat, extending his hand. “You must be Mike.”
“It’s good to meet you.” Mike had a strong grip. Forceful. Nice.
“How are you liking it so far, the neighborhood?”
It had been less than a day since he’d arrived, a long, tiring day. “It’s nice,” he answered. “Though give me a week and see if I still feel the same.”
“It’s a great area, quiet. If you like that sort of thing. We do, right, Ann?”
“Yes indeed.” Ann went to her husband’s side. “Now that we’re all acquainted, would anyone like a predinner drink? Mike brought wine.”
“Sounds great.” Jeff grabbed the bottle and headed to a drawer, producing a wine opener.
With their glasses filled, they sat at the table.
* * * *
Jeff gingerly tasted the wine. He wasn’t fond of red, and he’d take a beer any day over this stuff that their new neighbor had brought them.
Mike was nothing like he’d imagined him to be. Not that Ann had given him much to go on. This man looked like some model straight from a magazine. And from the way Ann looked at him over her glass, he guessed she found him attractive, which was probably the reason she had invited him to dinner in the first place.
Another husband might have been jealous with this situation. He wasn’t. It was okay to look; there wasn’t anything wrong with it. But no touching. Those were the rules, in his mind.
“How’s the house?” he asked, imagining that over the years the Donaldsons had done very little updating.
“It needs some work. I was telling Ann earlier today. She mentioned that you might be able to help.”
“Did she?” He looked to Ann and smiled.
“I did,” replied Ann. “You did a wonderful job with this place.”
He had to agree with her. Their house hadn’t been much when they moved in. During the first couple of years, they redid the place from top to bottom and all points in between. He had reason to be proud of his house.
“If it’s a problem, I can just hire someone to come in and do whatever needs to be done. That’s what I planned on doing anyway.”
“Not at all. It isn’t a problem,” he explained. “Not if you don’t mind me being a little slow. I can only work during weekends and after hours from my own job. Ann neglected to mention that, I bet.” Ann shouldn’t have made promises without consulting him first. He didn’t mind helping out a neighbor, and Mike seemed nice enough so
far. But it was his time and not hers to dedicate to someone else. What if he had plans elsewhere with his spare time? It would have shoved him headfirst into one hell of an awkward situation having to refuse.
“Slow is fine with me. I like slow,” replied Mike. “I moved here to be much…slower—pace that is.” He grinned.
Jeff laughed. “I can totally understand that. Some people love living right in the city. I never did get that scene. The hustle and bustle would be too much for me to deal with.”
“That’s exactly how I felt. I was totally ready to leave all that crap behind. My apartment was nice, a little small and not in a great area. It was okay when we moved in, but after a couple of years it all went downhill as a lot of crime started occurring around us.”
“You have a wife?” asked Ann, interrupting.
“Not quite.” Mike placed his wineglass on the table in front of him. “I had a partner, Jackson. I’m bisexual.”
All three went silent.
“If that’s a problem for either of you, I can leave.”
* * * *
Ann swallowed hard, her initial concern being how Jeff would react. She hoped he wouldn’t go ahead and say something stupid to embarrass them both.
“God, no, it doesn’t bother me or Ann,” said Jeff.
Ann sighed with relief. “I think bisexuality is interesting,” she proclaimed, pouring another glass of wine. “You should have brought Jackson along. We’d like to meet him.”
“That would be rather hard to do. He died two years ago.”
Again, silence.
“I’m so sorry to hear that. It must be terrible to lose someone so close to you, someone you really love.” She hated death and dreaded the thought of eventually losing her father. Death was unavoidable. It would come to them all one day.
“I’m fine. Really I am. It was two years ago, like I said. Time doesn’t heal everything as the saying goes, but it does help the pain subside. That was another reason for my move here. The apartment was our place. I needed a place of my own, minus the memories.”
It was all so sad, just listening to Mike talk about his experience losing his partner. She felt as if she’d burst into tears. She didn’t, and she wouldn’t. That would just make her look like a crazy, emotional fool.
