by Day, Xondra
Jeff held up his glass. “Then let’s make a toast. To new friends and new beginnings. May life only get better for us all.”
The clinked glasses and downed the rest of the wine.
Ann stood from the table. “On that note, dinner is ready.”
* * * *
They were a lovely couple, very easy to be around.
After dinner, they adjourned to the living room where they drank coffee and partook of Ann’s delicious triple-chocolate cheesecake.
“It’s store bought,” she explained. “I can’t take credit for it. I’m dismal when it comes to baking.”
“You did make the coffee?”
Ann nodded.
“Then you can take credit for that, and a fabulous dinner. That sauce was out of this world.”
“It’s her special recipe,” added Jeff. “One that she won’t even let me in on.”
“I can’t tell you what goes in it. If I did, it wouldn’t be special.” Ann rolled her eyes and placed her empty plate on the coffee table. “Men…Sheesh, sometimes.”
He laughed, remembering Jackson and how the man would often hound him while he cooked in the kitchen. Ann and Jeff reminded him of them and their playful banter back and forth. “You’re so right, Ann. You can’t live with them, and… it’s pretty darned hard to live without them.”
With a mock pout, Jeff put one hand up in the air to halt the conversation. “Hey, that isn’t fair. Two against one.”
Good gracious, he was a cutie!
“You’re right, Jeff,” he replied. “We’ll stop.” He glanced at Ann, and they both burst out laughing. Leaning ahead, he motioned for Ann to move closer. She did. “Is he always like this?” he asked, lowering his voice.
“Like what?” Ann held a curious look in her eyes, a smirk painted across her lips.
He felt bold, very bold. He’d blame it on the wine later. “Cute.”
“I heard that,” announced Jeff. “And yes I am, or so I’ve been told many times over, in fact.”
Ann sat back, amused. “By who?”
“By the secretary at work. I think I need more wine or beer. Do we have beer?” asked Jeff, standing.
“That woman, the one with the moustache?” Ann laughed, one hand clutching her breast. “That isn’t something to be proud of, honey.”
“She doesn’t have a moustache,” muttered Jeff.
“There’s beer in the fridge. Would you like one, Mike?”
He shrugged and figured he may as well. “Sure.” These two were a hoot and a half. He was really enjoying their company. It was a nice change of pace.
Jeff backed out of the room, and he couldn’t help but drink him in, every single inch. The guy was everything he’d ever want in a man, a lot like Jackson. If he had a specific type, this would be it. When Jeff grinned and winked before turning to continue on into the kitchen, he thought he would faint dead away, right there on the couch across from Ann.
* * * *
Certain things hadn’t gone unnoticed by him.
Jeff pulled a six-pack from the refrigerator and placed them on the countertop. He pulled two away from the pack, putting the rest back inside. One for him, and one for Mike. Mike, who had given him some funny looks throughout dinner and on into the evening.
Bisexual. He detested that word but felt quite comfortable with its meaning.
Mike was eyeing him. It was so obvious. Ann didn’t seem to notice, or if she did, she didn’t care. But the question was did he care?
His experience with Marcus had been limited, nothing more than a blow job, and as the years passed, he hadn’t thought about it much.
Right now, standing there with two beers in hand, he thought about other things, like Mike touching him and possibly kissing him. He’d never kissed another man, not even Marcus, and he wondered how it would feel different from kissing a woman, if at all.
“I take it one of them is for me?” Mike walked into the kitchen, holding out one hand.
“Huh?” For a minute, he was dazed, his mind on other things that caused him to blush. “Yeah.” He handed Mike a beer. “Where’s Ann?”
“Ann’s gone to freshen up. Or in manly terms, take a piss.”
“Ha!” He shifted from side to side as Mike stared at him. “So…are you from the area?”
“Yup. Born and bred in the city, and so were my parents. Our roots run deep there.”
“That’s a big move, to come all the way out here.”
Mike opened his beer. “Like I explained earlier, I have my reasons.”
He shifted again, his eyes moving to something, anything that wasn’t Mike. He finally settled on the coffeemaker.
“Jeff, do I make you nervous? I know it can be difficult for straight guys to be around someone like me.”
“No,” he snapped, far too quickly. “Not at all.”
“Seriously. You can relax. I’m not going to hit on you.”
That was the problem. He wouldn’t have minded if Mike did hit on him. And that’s what scared him. That’s what made him nervous. He wondered how he would react if put in that situation.
* * * *
Ann returned from the bathroom to an empty living room then heard the two men talking, their voices coming from the kitchen.
“The party’s moved in here,” she said, walking in to see them standing near the island, beers in hand. She was glad they were getting along. After Mike’s announcement, she wasn’t sure if they would.
“Mike was just telling me about his plans for renovating the house. He has some great ideas.”
She winced at the bright overhead light. Red wine never mixed with her well. She was getting a headache.
“Sounds great. Listen, you two, I think I’m going to head off to bed. My head feels a bit off.”
“That’s too bad,” said Mike. “Thanks for a wonderful dinner.”
“It was my pleasure, but you don’t have to go. Jeff’s a late-nighter. He’ll be up for a while yet. He can entertain you.”
“I am,” said Mike, with a nod.
After a few last words, she made her way upstairs.
Chapter Four
Shutting the door behind him back at the house, Mike leaned against it and shook his head, amused at the night’s events, especially Jeff.
That man reminded him far too much of Jackson, and the attraction he had for him was crazy. He wasn’t the type of guy to go for a married or straight man. Hell, he would have admonished anyone else for doing the same thing. Plus, Ann was a darling, a friend. He felt like a bastard for even thinking about it, period.
Walking down the hall, he kicked off his shoes and pulled off his shirt. Once in the bedroom, he threw that on the bed and slipped out of his pants.
Now, just in his briefs, he laid back and looked up at the ceiling, the fan spinning slowly overhead, cooling him.
Mike closed his eyes, his right hand moving down to his cock. Jackson came into his mind. Their first meeting had been hot, a night that would last with him forever. He allowed his mind to drift back to that moment, the time when he discovered cock.
* * * *
A gay bar!
A mistake, that’s what it was. He didn’t belong here and he didn’t fit in.
With his heart beating hard enough to choke him—that had to be the cause of the lump in his throat—Mike made his way through a crowd of men to the bar. A drink would help. A drink would force him to relax. He hoped.
A bartender dressed in some leather bondage getup leaned over the bar towards him, his eyes tracing Mike all over. “What’ll it be, handsome?” he asked.
“A beer…Coors,” he stammered.
“Sure thing.” The bartender returned with the beer and took his money. “I haven’t seen you in here before. You must be new. I’d remember any man who looked like you.”
How was he to respond to that? “Thanks.” Grabbing the beer, he turned away from the bar.
In front of him loomed the largest dance floor he’d ever seen. Men
of all shapes, races, and ages danced, some with each other and others by themselves, to the thunderous beat of some song he didn’t know. It sounded a bit like Cher, yet he wasn’t certain.
A young guy walked past him, rubbing against his arm. “Sexy,” said the guy, with a wink and a wry grin. He stopped and stood a short distance from Mike with his slender arms folded across his chest.
He’d best give it a shot. That was his point in coming here, to meet other guys like himself. “I’m Mike,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over the loud music.
“Ethan.” They shook hands, and the young guy moved in closer to him, close enough that he could feel his body slide against him. The large crowd around them didn’t help.
“Standing room only,” he said. The guy, Ethan, was getting far too close to him. Leave. That’s what his mind told him.
“You’re so fucking handsome,” said Ethan, nearly groaning it out into his ear. “I bet you fuck like a stallion.” A hand slid to his crotch.
Whoa!
“Would you like to take me home and fuck me? I bet you would.”
Was this guy for real? This had to be a joke. If it was, it was a sad one.
“Take you home? We just met,” he replied.
“For a hundred bucks you can do whatever you want to me. Even the kinky stuff, if you’re into it.” Ethan squeezed his crotch harder.
“Listen,” he pushed Ethan away from him. “I didn’t come here for that, and I don’t pay for sex.”
Ethan shrugged. “Cool, man. It’s on you. But you could have had one hell of a time with me. Your loss, buddy.” He walked off into the crowd.
An hour passed and three beers later, he was ready to call it a night.
Outside the bar, the night air hit him like a ton of bricks, dulling his buzz. He looked up to the dark sky and marveled at the many stars littering it. He loved autumn.
“Great night, eh?” A deep voice stirred him back to earth.
Holy blue eyes! For a minute he was speechless, looking into the face of the stranger who had spoken to him.
“It was pretty bad inside.” The stranger motioned to the door of the bar. “I saw you leave.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. Don’t think that I am some creepy stalker. I was watching you for a bit. You didn’t fit in…in there.”
“It isn’t my scene,” said Mike. “I forced myself to go there tonight. It’s my lame attempt at being social, trying to get into the whole bar thing.”
The stranger slid into a black leather jacket. “I was just on my way for something to eat. Would you like to join me? I know this excellent all-night café not far from here.”
This offer was much better than the one from Ethan. “Sure, why not. That sounds great.”
Two hours later, after they had eaten, Mike invited the guy who he now knew by name, Jackson, back to his apartment.
At first, they sat in the crammed living area on Mike’s banged-up couch.
This was fresh and new. And up to this point in his life, being the late bloomer that he was, he hadn’t done anything with a guy, and only once had fooled around with a woman. His inexperience must have showed.
“Are you nervous being alone with me?” asked Jackson, his eyes sparking even with the dismal lighting. “You don’t have any reason to be, I promise. I don’t bite unless you want me to. And if you do, you only have to ask.”
“I’m not nervous.” He didn’t know how to explain what he was feeling. “It’s just that this is sorta new to me.”
“I guessed that. Like I said, you looked out of your element at the bar. Are you just coming out? I know it can be hard. I understand.” Jackson touched the top of his hand. “It gets easier.”
Easy for him to say. “How long have you…been out?”
Jackson counted on his fingers. “One, two, three…almost four years now. Not all that long when you think about it.”
“Were you worried about what other people might think about you?” He hoped he wasn’t prying.
“I was only worried about what my family thought. Friends come and friends go, those that stay with you are the ones to keep close. The others were never friends to begin with. Always remember that it’s your life, and you have to live it your way.”
“How did you deal with your first time?”
Jackson smiled. “My first time? It happened rather quickly. I knew the guy through friends, and one night at a house party, we came together. It didn’t turn into anything more than that one night.”
“That’s it?” He’d expected something more special.
“That’s it.”
“Can I ask what made you notice me tonight outside the bar?”
“You’re cute. I could feed you a line about how I wanted to get to know you better, and I do, but the first thing I noticed first was your looks.”
Jackson moved closer to him, the man’s hand moving up from his hand to his shoulder.
He swallowed hard, looking into Jackson’s gorgeous eyes. “I’ve always wanted to know what it was like to kiss another man. A man that I find sexy.”
“Do you find me sexy?” questioned Jackson, their eyes locked together. “I can kiss you, but you have to tell me you want me, too. I don’t want to do anything you may regret.”
“I won’t…regret it.”
“Then say it. Tell me you want me to kiss you.”
“I want you to kiss me.”
When Jackson’s soft lips touched his, he almost jumped with the sensation that swept through him. It was as if every nerve ending inside him, in all the right places, lit afire with lust and desire.
Their tongues met, merging together, each fighting the other for dominance. He broke free until just their noses touched.
“So, how was it?” asked Jackson, his voice low. His arms held Mike close.
Awesome!
“That was—” He looked down and then up again, very aware of how erect he was inside his jeans. He pressed his lips down on Jackson’s. This time when he pulled back, he grinned. “That should answer your question.”
“You taste so good. Would it be terrible if I told you how bad I want to make love to you, to taste you in places that are terribly naughty?”
He throbbed at the thought of Jackson playing with him, licking him, and sucking him. “Would it be even more terrible if I replied telling you I want you to do all that, and for me to do the same to you?”
Jackson stood up from the couch and in turn helped him up. “Then we best move to the bedroom. I want to make this last.”
As they walked to the bedroom, he felt a strong hand on his ass, squeezing and rubbing his cheeks.
“Strip,” ordered Jackson, arms folded across his broad chest.
“What?” He wasn’t sure if he’d heard right.
“Strip. I want to see what’s under those clothes.” The man licked his lips. “I’m a top, if it matters.”
He started to unbutton his shirt, his cock rock hard. “A top?”
“Yes.”
He knew the lingo from reading gay porn magazines. Suddenly, he felt his asshole twitch at the thought of having a cock slide in there for the first time, deflowering him. “Wouldn’t that hurt?”
“Oh, babe, I won’t hurt you.” Jackson pulled off his T-shirt, revealing a well-built, muscular chest lightly sprinkled with hair. “I’m going to make you feel so good, trust me.”
He did. And when Jackson forced him to his knees, all he wanted to do was please this man, to pleasure him. He looked up, awaiting his next order.
“So handsome,” muttered Jackson, his hand tangling in Mike’s hair. “Go for it. It’s all yours.”
Like a kid at Christmas, he anxiously unwrapped Jackson’s package, gasping when the man’s huge cock sprang free, slapping against his left cheek.
“Sweet Jesus,” he said, surprised. He didn’t think they came that big! He didn’t know how or where to start.
“Stroke it,” said Jackson. “Play with the skin and
lick the tip with your tongue.”
He gingerly jacked it up and down and then squeezed, a drop of clear fluid oozing from the slit—pre-cum. He stuck out his tongue and tasted it, feeling its salty taste linger.
“Suck it, handsome,” encouraged Jackson. “Take it in your mouth and suck my hot cock.”
He did.
“Oh yeah, that’s it. Take me deep, all the way. Open up your throat. Yeah, just like that, cutie.”
He felt his eyes watering as his gag reflex kicked in on every downstroke, his tongue tracing each inch. He wanted to do well. He wanted to please this hot, sexy-as-fuck man.
Jackson pulled back from him, his cock popping out of Mike’s mouth. “You did good. With more practice, you’ll do even better. Let’s get you out of those jeans. I want to see that ass and cock of yours.”
He slid out of his jeans and boxer shorts, climbing on the bed with Jackson in close pursuit.
“You’re perfect.” Jackson kissed him, this time with more force than before. He was definitely a man in total control. Mike liked it. A lot.
When Jackson moved and positioned himself between his legs, he wondered what was to come next. And when his feet ended up on Jackson’s firm shoulders, he felt nervous again.
“Trust me. You do trust me, right?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
Jackson opened his hand to reveal a condom and a small package of lube. The man came prepared. “Nice and tight,” he said, a slick finger sliding between Mike’s cheeks, his index finger massaging once the intended target had been found.
He winced, feeling a finger pushing inside his tight, virgin asshole. When he cried out, Jackson stopped.
“Open up for me. Relax.”
It was easy for him to say. He was the freaking top!
“Push down, it makes it easier,” explained Jackson. “You feel so hot and tight. It’s going to feel great fucking you with my cock.”
He watched as a condom was applied, and then when Jackson pushed into him, he pushed down again, just as he was directed to do. It did make it a little easier, but there was still pain, a hell of a lot of pain that forced him to grip the bed sheets. “Fuck,” he yelled, taking it, every last fucking inch.
