JOHN ASKED Blue what he wanted to do to kill time—offered quite a few suggestions—and Blue blurted out, “Have sex?”
John looked at him in surprise and then blushed.
And nodded.
They drove back to John’s place in silence, and Blue started to wonder if he’d said the wrong thing, but the minute they walked through the door, John turned to him and pulled him into his arms and kissed him like—well, he wasn’t sure! He wasn’t sure if he’d ever been kissed like this before.
It was almost like they were in love.
What a stupid thought.
Love.
How could it be love?
But then Blue decided to pretend, to melt with it, flow with it, and his heart began to rush, and his cock grew diamond hard and—Yes!—John’s did too. He could feel it.
Then John picked him up and—Yes!—grabbed his ass with those big hands of his, and his asshole kegeled in anticipation.
I want to be fucked.
He almost said it aloud, but John still seemed so skittish. Blue had to find some other words to convey what he desired. He didn’t want to scare the man! It was the last thing he wanted.
But sex? Sex he needed. He needed to plunge himself into it (have it be plunged into him). He needed to feel alive.
John actually carried him upstairs—after Blue wrapped his legs around John’s waist and pressed the lower part of his ass (just below the base of his cock) against John’s hard length. When they got to the bedroom, John still didn’t put him down but kissed him. Kissed him hard and deep and took his breath away.
Then John sat him on the bed—and damn, it was the master bedroom, and didn’t that mean something?—and pulled his T-shirt off and kissed him again. He got down on his knees—imagine a big sexy man on his knees in front of him—and took off Blue’s sneakers and his socks and then….
Wow….
John was pressing Blue’s damp feet against his face. It tickled, but not too much, and—Gosh—John was moaning. He started kissing the bottoms of Blue’s feet and, holy cow, sucking on each of his toes, and yes, it tickled, but it was also sending shocks of pleasure through his whole body until Blue thought he’d cum in his pants. But John had him cum somewhere else instead. He unzipped Blue’s jeans and pulled them and his underwear off and then took his cock deep, as if he’d been sucking dick since he was Blue’s age. Damn, it didn’t take long. He tried to warn John, but before he could say anything, he shot off in John’s mouth, and John swallowed. It was fucking bliss!
BLUE SHOT into John’s mouth, and he swallowed hungrily, as if he’d been sucking dick and swallowing cum since he was Blue’s age. It was creamy and surprisingly sweet with only that tinge of gaminess there, as if to remind John he was swallowing a man’s semen (as if he could forget). Oh, and Blue’s scent! Strong, very strong, and… musky (that really was the word) and wonderful.
How had he not done this all these years?
How had he avoided it?
Why?
Because you were married.
Of course that was part of it.
But now?
Now he was still married, but surely that was only on paper. Vivian was gone, and he knew she wasn’t coming back. Not to be his wife, that was. Come home and file for divorce and decide who would get what, probably. No, they might as well be divorced already, and John found he didn’t feel the slightest bit of guilt anymore, kneeling there between Blue’s legs—in the bed he’d slept in with Vivian for so many years—nursing Blue’s softening cock and then nuzzling his nose up and down and around those sexy—so fucking sexy—balls.
No guilt except for the guilt that he had never given of himself to her as he was to Blue. Of course she had left him! He’d been so hurt, and he’d been angry with her. For leaving. For calling him boring. He’d made her the villain. But he had been the villain! He saw that now. Locked her up in a castle and kept her here for years. But finally she had escaped, and he couldn’t be angry with her anymore. No. Happy. Because he was going to be happy. He was happy for her. And he hoped and hoped and hoped that she was happy, or finding happiness anyway. Finding at least a fraction of the happiness he was feeling with Blue.
He wanted to make Blue happy too, and that thought came with lots of questions about the implications of making Blue happy.
Work, for one. People would find out. They would have to. How could he keep this a secret? There was no way, not ultimately. And neighbors. They would see Blue coming in and out and wonder why he was there. And what would John say? At some point he’d have to tell them. And friends. They would have to know, although he didn’t have that many friends.
Those thoughts near terrified him for a moment. But then he looked at Blue lying back on the bed, one arm tossed over his head on the pillow, and had a weird sense of déjà vu as he remembered picturing Blue this way while they were in John’s car going to Temujin’s Mongolian Grill for dinner.
He could scarcely take it in. A few days ago he’d never kissed a man (although one had kissed him on the cheek). And now here he was in bed with one. It had all happened so fast!
Quite suddenly, the idea of everyone knowing was a little less scary. He wasn’t ready to step out on his front porch and shout it to the neighbors. But he couldn’t deny this was who he was….
But for now, all that was important was Blue. A part of that meant making him happy in bed. He thought maybe he was doing a pretty good job of sucking his cock—I’m a cocksucker!—and who knew pressing Blue’s feet against his face and inhaling his sexy scent could be so fucking hot? But there was something that Blue had done for him and he hadn’t done for Blue.
The idea scared him a little bit—Can I do that?—because he was the guy who didn’t like to share straws, and then he thought, What the hell, and taking a deep breath, he took the plunge. He nuzzled down beneath the base of Blue’s cock… and a little lower… and a little lower yet until…
“Oh God, John. Are you sure? I…. Oh please, John!”
Blue grabbed himself behind the knees and drew his legs wide and back and high. His cheeks opened, and there it was. I’ve been inside that, John marveled, looking at something beautiful and pink and seemingly way too small for such a thing.
Then without allowing himself to think about what he was doing—and Blue was clean; they’d showered after all—he pressed his face into that cleft and kissed Blue right there. Right there against that pucker of flesh.
Interesting. Blue let out a long, loud sigh.
And daring more, John gave it a quick lick and found that—Whoa!—interesting too.
Another longer lick, and it was rather amazing….
Like… like….
A penny.
The taste of copper… and a little tangy… and it wasn’t at all unpleasant. The wonderful kinkiness—to him at least—of what he was doing hit him full strength then, and he moaned and pressed his face hard against that secret place, and he licked and licked and sucked and then—Am I really doing this?—pressed his tongue inside as that tight ring of muscle loosened and loosened to let him in.
“John,” Blue cried. “Fuck me! Please, fuck me.”
John staggered to his feet and started to unbutton his shirt, and Blue looked at him with unbridled lust—it was almost crazed, the way Blue looked at him—and shook his head and said, “No! Don’t. I want you to fuck me with your clothes on. Pull your cock out of your jeans and fuck me. Please!”
John shivered with lust. Really? A smile took over his mouth. It sounded crazy hot! And so he did as bid. He unbuttoned his 501s and pulled his cock out and—
“Your balls! Pull them out too! Christ!”
—reached in and somehow managed to fish his balls out too. Damn, did it feel sexy! Thank God there were still condoms on the bedside table, and he slipped one on, afraid that simple gesture would send him over the edge. It didn’t.
He grinned and clambered onto the bed, lined his cock up with that tiny, tiny hole, pressed, and went in halfway just that easily. Blue wrapped his legs around John’s waist again, locked his ankles behind him, and pulled hard, and then John was inside Blue balls-deep.
It was one of the hottest moments John could remember.
In full daylight, he could see the gorgeous young man before him without impediment, spread and ready for him, breathing hard and gazing at him with lust in his eyes and his big cock literally throbbing and leaking fluid. An instant later John was deep inside him, and it was hot and tight and wet and—Fuck!—the goddamned sexiest thing in all of time.
Fuck you.
Going to fuck you!
And he did.
With Blue’s urging, he did. He fucked him. Tried to keep himself in check, not wanting to hurt Blue (it was the last thing he wanted!), but Blue just kept crying, “Harder, John. Please, beautiful man. Please. Fuck me harder!”
And so he did.
“HARDER, JOHN,” Blue shouted. “Please, beautiful man. Please. Fuck me harder!”
And so John did.
It scared Blue that he was saying such words because, as much as he didn’t want to think about it, he remembered the last time he’d said words like those and the living hell it had become. The horror.
But that other man?
That man hadn’t cared shit about him.
He had only been two holes for that man and his friend to use.
Blue had realized that day last summer that he wasn’t liking it—was it only last summer?—and wanted it to stop, but he couldn’t stop it, and finally he just surrendered so it would be over.
But this time?
This time he was getting what he actually wanted.
This time he was getting fucked hard, but with something more.
He didn’t know what he was to John, but he was pretty sure he knew one thing.
Blue was more to John than holes.
This… this thing that was happening with John could be over tomorrow—
Except he asked me to move in with him while Chewie heals, and does he realize how long that could take?
—or it might last longer.
Please?
He looked into John’s face and saw that he was fucking Blue, not just a hole. Hard and rough and desperate, yes, but desperate for him. He wasn’t imagining it! There was caring as well as lust and need in John’s eyes.
It took a gloriously long time for John to finish this time. Blue guessed the fact that the man had cum at least four times in less than twenty-four hours, was over forty, and was wearing that fucking raincoat on his cock that took away 99 percent of the feeling had something to do with it. But whatever the reason, this time Blue wanted it to last forever.
It didn’t.
But it lasted long enough, and Blue was thrilled that he was doing something he hadn’t done too many times in his life. He was cumming without even touching himself, shooting in mighty jets between them. John’s eyes went wide with lust, and then he shouted, and Blue could feel John’s cock jerking and twitching. It was glorious.
Then John collapsed on top of Blue and tried to roll off—
“I’ll crush you,” John all but sobbed.
—but Blue wouldn’t let him.
He wanted, needed, to feel John’s weight on top of him.
Though John was much heavier than him, if he were to fall asleep, Blue believed he could manage to rouse him enough to get him to roll off.
Instead John did something, Blue wasn’t sure just what, with his knees, tucking them to either side of Blue, and sadly slipped out. Blue’s legs fell down around him, and John tucked his arms under Blue’s neck and rested his face in the hollow between Blue’s neck and shoulder.
Blue thought maybe John did slumber just a little bit before giving a little shiver, half untangling himself, and rolling to his side, still keeping Blue in his arms.
And then John said, “I love you,” and began to softly snore. Blue’s eyes went wide, and he wondered if it could be true.
And if he wanted it to be true.
And of course, the answer to that was yes.
Oh yes.
“I LOVE you,” John said and, knowing it was foolish to say it but not caring one bit, drifted into a deep sleep and dreamed a dream where he and Blue had been together for a very long time, and everyone was very happy.
BLUE WOKE from his dream with a scream, and when he saw where he was, the relief was gigantic. He looked at John in alarm, sure he must have awakened him.
He hadn’t.
John lay there with a happy smile on his face, like a sleeping baby.
Thank God.
Blue slipped out of bed and went first to the bathroom, changed his mind, went to the other bedroom, changed his mind there as well, and then went downstairs so that he could finally cry.
He wept. Wept in great painful lurching sobs.
In the dream he was being held down on a stone slab that had once been one of the most wonderful places on Earth.
“Take it!” the man who was fucking him yelled. “Take it, you goddamned bitch.”
He wanted to tell Big Sir—that was who it was, or at least what he was called at the Heartland Men’s Festival—to stop. To please stop. That this wasn’t what he’d expected. Not at all. But he couldn’t. His head was hanging off the end of a slab—an altar to the Green Man (who couldn’t approve of this!)—and the other man was fucking his mouth, so he couldn’t tell Big Sir that he was hurting him. Hurting him bad.
“Gonna breed you,” the big man had growled. “Fill your sweet little ass with my cum. Fill you until you drip.”
He wasn’t wearing a condom! Blue always insisted his sexual partners wear condoms and hadn’t realized Big Sir wasn’t until it was too late and he could no longer protest. Big Sir was hurting him… hurting him so bad. And the cock slamming in his mouth—he didn’t even know who the guy was other than some friend of Big Sir—was choking him, and he was seeing spots in front of his eyes from the lack of oxygen. Blue thought he was going to suffocate—
“Yeah,” cried the man fucking his face. “Gonna fill you from this end. Choke you with my jizz.”
—and God! Could he die this way?
He didn’t die. But unlike with most dreams, the ones that were simply fantasies of his sleeping mind, the images and memories didn’t fade. Blue couldn’t stop them from playing in his head. They were seared into his memory.
Blue cried until his eyes burned and his chest ached, and then he snuck back upstairs and showered. He thought that it was the intensity of their lovemaking that brought up the memories Blue had tried to put behind him.
And yet something still felt good.
As he quietly went back to bed, climbed under the sheets, and snuggled up to John, something—somehow—was slightly better than before.
Because John would have stopped.
If Blue had asked, he knew John would have stopped. John had done what he did at Blue’s urgings, fucked him hard because he’d wanted it. Wanted it hard for the first time since that horrible day. But John would have stopped.
Somehow he knew John would have stopped.
All he would have had to do was ask.