by Sasha Goldie
"I don't know what to say," I replied, touched that he noticed such things about me.
"You don't have to say anything. I just wanted to point out that you seem like the kind of guy that wants to take care of and be with someone. Even if you don't know it."
We talked about lighter things as I slowly drank the fourth beer. I was a little tipsy, but not so much that I'd do anything to embarrass myself. Ian told me his mom had moved to Florida to live with her sister after his dad died. It was obvious he missed her a lot. "Have you considered moving down to live near her?"
He shuddered. "The thought of that much heat makes me want to cry. She loves it, but I don't even like vacationing there."
I snorted and picked up our bottles to throw away. Ian grabbed the paper plates. "I like the cold as well. We get the best summers here, always mild."
He grinned at me as we walked to the car, my step slightly less steady than his.
The ride back went in a blur. Maybe I had crossed slightly past tipsy. Before I knew it, we were parking in front of the garage. Ian opened the door to the garage and led me up the stairs. "This way," he said as he turned to make sure I was following.
I wasn't following. I'd been staring at his ass. Jumping, I hurried after him.
As soon as we exited the stairway and entered the front foyer of his home, he grabbed my shirt and pulled me to him.
He was a top, then. Okay. I liked to swing, so either way. Turning me, he backed me into the wall, one hand on my shirt and the other hand pressing against the wall beside my head.
His eyes stared at my mouth, so I removed the decision for him and kissed him first. He moaned, pushing his crotch against mine. His dick was rock hard.
No worries, though, mine was, too.
"I know you owe me money," he growled. "But I don't accept sex for payment. This isn't that."
Good to fucking know. I grabbed his shirt and lifted it above his head. Good to fucking know.
6
Ian
Whatever came over me and pushed me to tell Nate I didn't want to fuck him as payment for my services, he liked it a lot. His hand slipped between us, grabbing my belt buckle and struggling to pull it apart. He groaned when I did it for him, unbuttoning the top button while he unzipped my jeans.
He shoved at my boxer briefs a little clumsily. "Hey," I whispered against his mouth. "Are you too drunk?"
"No." He twisted his head so he could look me in the eye. "I'm pretty tipsy, yes. I drank those beers too fast and the first on an empty stomach. And, I really don't drink that often. I work too much. But I'm not drunk enough to make horrible decisions." His eyes crinkled. "This isn't that."
I stifled a growl at his words and helped him yank my underwear down so my dick sprang out. It wasn't the biggest, but it wasn't the smallest either. I'd never been ashamed of it. His warm hand closed around it, nearly undoing me. I dropped my head to his shoulder. It had been too long. Even his hand made me want to spurt all over him like a teenager.
He stroked slowly up and down the length of my cock, breathing heavily in my ear. I focused on him, fighting through my own pleasure, and unbuttoned his fancy belt. City boy.
His hand paused on me as I made my way to his dick. He was a briefs man. They tended to be uptight. Interesting. The large bulge didn't escape me. It was hard and really wanted free.
Slowly, I peeled his snug blue underwear down his hips, licking my lips when I saw his length. The girth was fairly average, but he was long and slightly curved. He resumed his hand movement on my dick as I reached for his.
My large hand didn't cover the shaft, giving me room to stroke him up and down one slow time. His hand on me tightened and he paused again as he groaned. "Fuck. It's been too long."
I laughed into his shoulder, where my head still rested. "I almost said the same when you touched me."
Positioning both dicks so they rubbed each other between our bodies, I pushed my body into his against the wall and grinded against him as he squirmed, desperate for more. "Please tell me you have a condom."
His movements stilled. "I don't! I had no idea I'd be meeting someone on this trip. All I planned to do was work."
Fuck. Fuck. "I told you it's been a while. The ones I had expired, and I kept forgetting to buy more. Didn't really need them."
He snorted. "Sorry," he whispered.
"What's funny?" I backed up, both of our dicks still hard and now pointing at each other.
"How long has it been? Condoms last like five years."
I rolled my eyes. "Don't be a jerk. I bought a monster box from the bulk store when I started dating Scott, and they lasted a while. Until they expired."
He grabbed my dick and moved closer to me. "Don't get offended. I thought we were to the point that we could tease."
Damn it. He was right. I was being sensitive. "Sorry." With his hand on my dick, I would've forgiven him anything.
"We still can't do anything more than this, though." He gave me a wry look. "Won't risk it."
"No, me neither. Not unless I'm in a committed relationship and we both get tested."
He grabbed my hand and pulled it over to his cock. "I have the same policy."
"Wait. Go sit on the couch." I let go of his dick and grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the foyer and into the living room so he could see the location of the couch.
I didn't have any condoms, but I still had plenty of lube. No partners for me meant my hand got a workout a lot more often, unfortunately. Quickly, I shed my shoes and pants, leaving them and my underwear in my only bathroom.
Returning to the living room, I found Nate naked, his pants folded neatly on top of his shoes in my rocking chair, looking at pictures of my family on the mantel with a chub.
"No way, man. Don't lose interest in me now." He had me as hard as the first time, I really hoped he didn't back out.
"Well, help me out," he challenged, sitting on the couch after unbuttoning his shirt.
"Leave it on." Seeing him standing in only his unbuttoned dress shirt was sexy as fuck.
Yanking off my tee, I joined him, handing him the bottle of lube and reaching for his half-mast dick. He must've felt much the same as I did since he hardened at my first touch. Grinning, I let him squeeze a drop of the liquid into my hand. He put some on his own and grabbed me.
"Oh," he gasped as I spread it over his dick. "It's warm."
"You didn't read the bottle?" I'd bought the fancy lube to try on a whim and really liked it.
"No, I just opened it." His breath hitched as I increased my speed slightly.
Our conversation died down then, both of us focusing on our own pleasure while trying to give the other as much as possible. The one thing about handjobs—men always did them better than women. I'd dated a few women early on, testing out the waters, so to speak.
Nate did a twist and tighten thing at my base, causing a knee-jerk in me. "Shit, do that again." Yeah, men definitely gave better handjobs.
He did it again. "I'm going to come quickly if you keep doing it," I whispered, then attempted the same move on him. His reaction was similar to my own.
With a strong desire to prolong our experience, I stopped stroking him and grabbed his hand. "Sit on my lap," I whispered.
He straddled me on the couch, his weight on his knees. "You can sit on me. I won't break."
"Didn't want to make your legs go to sleep," he said as he lowered his ass to my legs.
I wanted to touch that ass with more than my legs, but no dice.
Grabbing him by the thighs, I helped him scoot as close as he could to me, then grabbed the lube, squeezing more into my hands.
Nate pressed close, and I grabbed both of our cocks, my shorter, thicker one against his. With both hands, I stroked up and down both shafts, pressing them into each other in an erotic move that made me quiver once.
Nate's hands roamed my body, playing with my sensitive nipples while I relished the feel of my cock against his. His movements stilled as he watched
. "Seeing it is almost as erotic as feeling it," he whispered. "Nobody has ever done that to me before." His words were choppy through heavy breaths. "Never even thought of it."
"Me neither, honestly." I couldn't say much more. I was nearly there. "Touch me."
Nate slipped his hands under mine, and we stroked our combined cocks together. "Are you close?" he asked, looking me in the eye.
"Very," I moaned, feeling the telltale tingle.
He leaned forward and boldly kissed me, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth and biting.
That did it. Hot cum squirted out of my cock, all over Nate, me, and Nate's sexy unbuttoned shirt. I clenched my thighs against his hand at the base of both of our cocks.
Nate pulled back and smeared my cum all over his cock. "Finish it," he demanded.
I hadn't realized he could be so dominant, but I didn't dislike it. Letting my softening dick fall toward my stomach, I grabbed him and stroked him as hard as I thought he could handle. He grunted, and his cum soaked us over top of my own. I slowed my strokes as he breathed through his orgasm, both of us suddenly exhausted.
With a touch to my arm, he indicated he was ready for me to stop. I let go, and we looked at each other, both of us with small smiles on our faces. Leaning forward, I placed a gentle kiss on his lips. "Not how I expected the evening to go, but I'm glad it did."
"Me, too."
I leaned to the side, snagging a box of tissues off of my end table. We mopped ourselves up as well as we could. Nate climbed off of my lap so I could stand up. "Bathroom's this way. Take your time, I'll shower when you're done."
"Thanks," he said, eyeing my abdomen. "But why don't you shower while I use the sink? I don't want you to feel all gross. Plus, we probably should’ve jizzed into a tissue." He twisted his lips. "It’s not the biggest risk, but not the safest either." I knew I was clean, but couldn't expect a virtual stranger to believe it. I couldn’t be sure, he was a city boy after all and their morals could be very different. But I was inclined to believe him.
He shrugged. "You're not showering?"
"No, if you don't care I'll shower in the morning. I know it's vain, but my hair looks crazy if I don't shower first thing in the morning."
I chuckled and walked into the bathroom to turn on the tap. "It takes a minute to get warm."
Reaching under the counter, I pulled out a spare toothbrush. "Toothpaste is in the cabinet there." I pointed to the medicine cabinet. "Towels and washcloths here." I indicated the black wood shelf behind him with white towels neatly folded on it.
"I always buy white, too," he said.
"Because you can bleach?"
He nodded. "I love the smell of a well-bleached towel."
Scott had hated it. He wanted his towels to smell like fabric softener. "How do you feel about fabric softener?"
He wrinkled his nose as he reached for a washcloth and turned on the sink tap. "It makes the clothes almost feel filmy. I use dryer sheets."
"We are definitely a laundry match," I flirted.
He grinned and turned to the sink, using the pump soap to lather up the washcloth. I decided not to push my flirting luck and hopped into the shower.
Several minutes later, as I rinsed my hair, he spoke again. "This is the toothpaste I use."
"Well, at least our bathrooms are compatible." We didn't know yet if we actually were.
"And our handjobs," he said in a deep voice.
Shit. My dick twitched hearing that. I wanted to reply but didn't trust my voice. But then, if I didn't reply he might think I disagreed.
"I agree." Back to short and simple, my staple.
"I'm finished, but you forgot to show me where I'll be sleeping."
Laughing, I apologized. "Go right, second door to the right. Beside my room. It's got a green bedspread."
"Thanks." The door clicked shut. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. He was so calm about the whole thing, in a strange town, a strange apartment, having just squirted jizz all over a strange man. I felt like I'd been let loose in looney town.
Slowly, I lathered body wash into my pouf. Had he expected me to invite him to my bed? Maybe I should have. It might've been nice to sleep beside someone. But he really didn't seem bothered by a quick handjob and then bed. Maybe this was something he did on the regular, even though he’d said it had been a long time. It certainly wasn't something I'd done regularly. A couple of tourists had provided interesting week-long flings, but if I was honest, I hadn't been half as attracted to them as I was to Nate.
Truly, I loved my hometown, but at that moment I cursed its lack of a twenty-four-hour store. If we had one, I would've seriously considered running out for condoms. As it was, I'd have to buy them from either the Three Lakes Grocery or the Three Lakes Gas Station, either of which would know immediately why I needed them. Everyone in town probably already knew Nate was staying with me, and after his performance with Sissy at the brewery, they all knew he was as gay as I was.
So, might as well buy the condoms tomorrow and remove all doubt. I was sure the parts store wouldn't have his part, so he'd be with me for a while.
No sense in him spending money on a hotel when I had a perfectly acceptable room here. He could stay with me to save a little money.
Yeah, right. I just wanted him to stay with me to get the chance to fuck him. A few times. Hopefully. Our chemistry was something I hadn't experienced since Scott, and even with him, it was a bond that formed over the years, since we'd grown up together and were friends for a long time before dating.
This was some bullshit. Developing feelings for another city boy was not an option. I cleaned my dick slowly, remembering the feel of his shaft pressed to mine, and his hand stroking us both.
Shit. I hoped that damn auto parts store had that damn part. If he didn't get out of town, I would end up getting hurt by another damn city boy.
7
Nate
The mattress in Ian's spare bedroom must've been filled by angels, using super fluffy feathers from their own wings. I slept like the dead. My phone, thrown carelessly on the bedside table the night before, finally broke through my slumber.
Rolling over with a groan, I grabbed it and squinted at the caller. Sara. Rejecting the call, I opened a text.
Nate: What's up?
Sara: Just checking in. You make it okay?
Nate: Not really. Car trouble.
Sara; Need me to come?
Nate: No, but I'll let you know if I do.
Sara: Love you, big bro.
Nate: Love you more, little sister.
She was a good sister. Only a couple of years younger than me, we'd fought like wildcats until she reached her teenage years. Then we mainly ignored each other until we both chose the same college several hours from home. We ended up getting an apartment together to save money and bonded quite a bit then. I found I actually liked her a lot.
Stretching, I listened to the sounds of the strange apartment. My phone said it was just after eight. Did Ian not have to get up and open his shop?
My suitcase was still downstairs in the trunk of my car. Shit. I'd been tipsy enough the night before to leave it. And my shirt needed washing before I could put it back on. It was covered in... Well, maybe Ian had a tee I could put on to slip down to the car and get fresh clothes.
Opening the bedroom door, I peeked out into the hallway and found my suitcase and briefcase sitting in the hall in front of my door. What a sweet man.
Nope, it was time to backpedal. Thinking those sort of things was dangerous. He was just being nice. No need to read anything into it.
Just grabbing the things I needed to get ready, there was no point in unpacking. I'd find a hotel or B&B to stay in and stop imposing on Ian.
The shower was better than any hotel. Ian must've known his way around a pipe and wrench because his shower pressure was phenomenal. I didn't want to leave the spray.
Eventually, I thought it might be rude to stay in much longer, plus my fingers were pruny,
so I got out, using one of Ian's pristine white towels to dry off.
If we kept finding things in common, I was going to start liking him more and more. Damn it.
A little snooping under Ian's sink located the hairdryer, and I was out of the bathroom with my hair settled and a towel around my waist.
"Hello?" Ian's voice called from the front of the apartment.
"Be out in a minute," I called back.
I dressed in record time, ignoring the wrinkles in my slacks and shirt. I needed to get settled in a hotel so I could unpack my clothes and maybe iron them.
Ian stood in his kitchen, staring into the refrigerator.
Clearing my throat to announce my presence, I stepped awkwardly into the kitchen. "Uh, good morning. Thanks for grabbing my bag."
"You're welcome. Hungry?" Ian held up a carton of eggs.
"Starved. Thanks." I walked over and took the carton from him. "What can I do to help?"
"You make scrambled eggs and I'll do the bacon and toast." He reached into a cabinet, grabbing a skillet and setting it on the stove. I walked around him to get the butter and cheese out of his fridge.
"How long have you been up?" I asked as I cracked the eggs.
"Hours. I'm an early riser. I've already been over to the parts shop." He carefully placed slices of bacon into another skillet.
"Any luck?" I asked hopefully. I was enjoying spending time with him, but I needed to get out to the property and look around, then I'd have to go to Bend soon. I'd have to have a car.
"Unfortunately not, I'm sorry. Your car isn't very common, and it's not something they keep on hand." He looked contrite, like it was his fault the shop didn't carry my part.
"It's all right. Not your fault. How long did they say before it comes in?"
"It's looking like two days, maybe three. They had to order directly from the manufacturer. We could try looking online to see if we could find a used one somewhere that would ship faster?"
