Mark Comes to the Rescue
When I got to K, I used my phone to find my way to Steve's apartment. It was close to the university and it felt like a kind of student “ghetto”: old, ramshackle houses in various states of disrepair. His place was on the third floor of a big old house and I had to walk up a million crooked stairs to get there. His place was the only one up there and when I got to the top and knocked I had this thought that I was in a horror movie and some nasty zombie would go after me.
But he didn't come to the door, and it was unlocked, so I went in. The place seemed deserted. I wondered where Susan had gone since she was clearly not there. Had she moved out? Was she staying with a friend or something? I couldn't see Steve in the main room which was a mess. I mean there were dirty dishes on the coffee table, magazines strewn around, clothes in random places. That's how I knew things were bad. Steve is nothing if not tidy.
“Steve? Are you here?”
There was silence, but then I heard a muffled voice from what I assumed was the bedroom. I walked down a little hall and into a room that was barely big enough for the bed and a tiny dresser. How the fuck did those two live in such a small space? I'd think about that later.
He was lying on the bed, face down. He was wearing track pants and a t-shirt that I could tell needed a wash. In fact the whole place needed a wash. The bed was rumped and the sheets were all over the place and I assumed they hadn't been changed in a while.
I sat on the bed. “Steve, buddy.” I rarely called him 'buddy' but it seemed like the right time. “What's going on?”
He turned and lay on his back. He had been crying. I had heard him cry on the phone, but to actually see the tears all over his face? That really shocked me. He finally said, in a dull voice, “I think she's going to dump me.”
I didn't know what to do, but I finally said, “Did she say why?”
There was silence for a moment. He stared at the ceiling as if it would tell him something. Then he turned to me and his eyes were filling up again, his forehead crumpling. “I told her.”
At first I had no idea what he was saying. Then I suddenly had a sick feeling in my gut and I knew exactly what he meant. About what we had done together.
“Steve...why the fuck would you tell her that, of all things?”
His face looked agonized and he said, “We were fucking. Like really going at it and it was awesome, and we were both telling stories that would make it even hotter. Like things we had done with people. You know. Our first threeway, our craziest fuck in the craziest place. And I was so turned on, just blazing with it, that I just told her what we had done. At the time I thought it would push us over the edge, but I was wrong. So wrong.”
I swallowed, still reeling. I said, “And...?”
“And she totally went still and pushed me off her. She sat up and just looked at me like I had just killed a puppy or something. She asked me if I was serious. What could I say? I said yeah, it had happened. She shook her head and got all pale and red and I thought she was going to cry but then she got up and put on some clothes and told me she had to go, she had to think.”
I didn't know what to say. Part of me didn't blame her. That would be something to hear from the guy you were in love with that he had fucked his step-brother. Even if it was before they met. That wasn't the point. I mean, really? What did he expect?
I finally shook my head, trying to be empathetic. “Man, that sucks. That must hurt.”
“It does fucking hurt. Why am I such an idiot? Why did I decide it was a good thing to say to the girl I'm in love with?”
Good question, I thought. If they had been gay, they might have gotten off on it, no big deal. I think gay guys are less fussed about things like that. Most of us, anyway. I had the crazy thought that he needed to find a more kinky girl, someone who is more adventurous if he was going to share that bit of his history.
I decided that we needed to get out of his house. I said, “Steve. Get up. Have a shower. Put on some half-way clean clothes and lets go get a beer. You need to clear your head.”
He groaned and shook his head, but then he did get up. I watched him look around for a towel and then I realized he was going to pull his track pants off, so I got up and left the bedroom not wanting to even think about him naked. I heard him go into the bathroom and the shower run.
When he came out to the living room, his hair was wet and he didn't look too bad. Tired, sad, but presentable. We walked down the street to a pub he liked and we sat. I kept the conversation light. We talked about classes, and other students and random stuff about singers we liked or fucked-up politics. I could see him relax, mellow a bit.
We had a couple of pints and some food and by the time we left, he seemed more himself. Just as we got out to the street, his phone pinged. It was Susan. He stared at the screen for a minute, then looked at me. “She wants to talk.”
I felt stupid and that I shouldn't even have been there. I said, “I'll go to a movie or something while you two talk. Text me when you think it's safe.”
He swallowed and said, “Can you come with me? I mean like back up?”
I got angry. “Fuck, Steve. I'm part of the reason this happened. She doesn't want to see me. I'm the last person she wants to see.”
He nodded, starting to cry again. I felt for him. He looked so lost. I walked him back to his place, but let him go upstairs and I made my way downtown looking for something to do. I found a bookstore and hung out there and when I noticed they had a coffee shop attached, I got some and sat with a book I had been meaning to read. The afternoon waned and I occasionally wondered what they were talking about.
At about five thirty, just before they were going to kick me out, my phone told me that the coast was clear and that I should come back. I walked slowly down the quiet streets that were so different than the big city of M where I went to school. I walked slowly up the stairs and knocked at his door.
He opened it. I could tell right away that he was better. Something had changed. When I got in, he said, “She's gone to her parents' place.” When he saw my face, he quickly said, “Oh...she had planned this trip a while ago. It's not because of me. We talked it out and I think she gets it.”
I felt relieved. Susan was more open than I had thought. “What did she say?”
He sat on the sofa and I sat across from him. I still didn't want to get too close. “She said that even though it's pretty out there, she is prepared to accept it. I told her nothing had happened since I had met her and that helped, too.”
I nodded. “That's very cool. I'm so glad. You must be relieved.”
“Holy fuck am I relieved!”
I felt like this was a neat resolution to everything. It made it clear that what we had done should never happen again, it seems to have cemented their relationship and resolved some of my guilt – or shame or whatever – about the face that we had fucked.
All neat and tidy, right? Nope. I got up and was so happy for the guy, that I pulled him in for a nice hug. Nothing weird, just affection. I pulled back, ready to move on – have dinner, get back on a train, whatever – but Steve looked at me, still holding my arm. It was that look. I realized it was the same look, the same little grin. I felt his hand slide around and grip my ass and pull me close to him.
“Steve...what are you doing?”
“Just being affectionate.”
“But Susan...you're going to throw it all away?”
He looked at me as if I was a confused teenager. “Mark, man...oh, I forgot to say...she is cool if we hook up now and then. That's the awesome part. She's fine with a little step-brother time. As long as it's just us, like she doesn't want our relationship to be that open.”
I felt shocked. She was fine with it? Was he just feeding me a line? He kissed my neck and licked his way up my jaw and planted the biggest, wettest kiss on me, thrusting his tongue into my mouth. It felt like a shock and my whole body felt electrocuted. I gasped, turned on and confused. I could barely think. I felt more guilt as if I had manipulated things so this would happen, even though I knew that he had been the one to start it. And Susan, to my amazement, was supposedly facilitating it. It was the most fucked-up open relationship I had ever heard of.
He pushed me on the sofa and then he knelt over me, then leaned down and I felt like he was going to swallow my face, engulfing my mouth with his. At first I was frozen, then his heat totally loosened me up and I responded. I gave back at least as much as what he was giving me. I grabbed his ass with both hands and pulled him down so his crotch met the bulge in my jeans and I ground myself up into him. I felt his fingers slide into my t-shirt and he pulled it up and over my head. I did the same to him. His chest was beautiful, just like I remembered it. Toned and trimmed and his nipples, when I ran my fingers over then, were hard as rock and he groaned into my mouth.
I reached down and fumbled with his jeans, finally undoing the button and he sat up and let me pull them down, along with his briefs, yanking them over his thighs. He stood up and I got a flash of his rigid prick and he stepped out of everything and threw them behind him. Instead of sitting down on me again, he reached for my pants, and I lifted up enough so I could wriggle out of them. He practically tore my boxers briefs off and soon we were both naked, both hard and both ready to fuck.
He got in my lap again and positioned his ass over my cock which I pointed up and he suctioned his mouth to mine while I let him push down, so my hard prick slid into him. I felt him resist a little, but then his muscles relaxed and he moaned while he kissed me, and was able to push himself down and I watched my cock, all shiny and veiny, disappear into his ass, until his body met my pubes. We were still full-on tongue wrestling and I started to flex my hips up as he pushed down. I was going crazy again, the shock of this being slightly taboo made it all the hotter.
He leaned back as our bodies moved together, and looked me right in the eyes, unwavering, hungry. He finally said, smirking, “I bought a big dildo and I've been practising, knowing we would do this again some time. Can you tell?” He sounded proud.
I had to laugh. Of course he did. Despite everything else that had happened, he had been looking forward to there being a next time. And this was it. I growled, “You're still fucking tight, Steve. But tight in a good way. I hope it doesn't hurt any more.” And he was tight, or more like snug, and I slid my hands over the muscles of his thighs, then down to his tight glutes the flexed every time he fucked himself down on my cock.
He laughed and gave me a long, wet kiss. “No. No pain at all. Just good things. Really good things, Mark. Fuck me as hard as you want.”
I gripped the powerful globes of his ass and started to make like a pile driver, slamming my cock as deep as I could. I was making this animal sound, kind of like a growl. I usually like to bottom, but with him some other part of me woke up and could only fuck, could only take his ass and make it mine. It was like for that moment, my cock owned him.
All the while, he was pumping his dick. I looked down at his fist working of the taut piece of meat, at the wetness that was pouring down over his fingers. I was able to sit up and I kissed his neck and then leaned down and just managed to flick my tongue over one of his fat nipples. He made some sounds and I raised my head and fucked him faster. I was getting tired and my back was sore, but I couldn't stop. How could I stop?
I put my hands underneath him, right where my cock was driving into him and ran my fingers over the moving flesh, all sticky and hot. I slipped a finger in with my cock, then two, feeling his ass stretch. That extra little sensation did it and I suddenly felt a shower of electric shocks go over my skin, over my muscles, through my balls and out to the tip of my dick and I threw my head back in a silent scream, my mouth wide open.
Steven was still fucking himself on me and he said in this sexy way, “Really nice, Mark, your cock feels so fucking nice.”
He pulled my face to his and wrapped his arms around my torso just as I felt big splashes of his jizz hit my chin, drooling down to my chest, then continue spurting all over my abdomen, running down and pooling in my navel, overflowing, and running down beneath his balls
I could barely breath. I rested my head against his face and ran my hands up his sweaty back, then enclosed his torso with my arms and pulled him close into a nice, slippery hug, our bodies still connected by my cock, and I could feel my cum leaking out around it. Sweat ran down my forehead. I could smell our bodies, the tang of cum, the oceanic sweat, guy-musk and a hundred other things.
I let myself fall on my side with my cock still deep in him and he came with me. We just looked at each other. We lay like this until my dick softened and eventually slipped out of him, along with a lot of cum. He straighten his legs and pulled me close so that my sticky chest was glueing us together. I didn't care. I couldn't think. I just felt sated and exhausted.
Our faces were close and I could feel his breath wash over my cheeks. He was still looking at me as if he just noticed me. I finally said, “Fuck, Steve. What the fuck are we doing? That was awesome, but it's messing with my mind.”
He leaned forward and kissed me all chaste and sweet, as if I hadn't just ploughed his ass and said, “It's cool, Mark. It's all just fine. No one ever needs to know but Susan. I won't tell anyone else.” He paused, as if considering something. “It's not like it's either/or, right? You're still looking for a guy to be with and I have Susan. We just have this other thing. Just between us. And just now and then, right? Just when we feel like it. We can have some awesome step-bro time. No one gets hurt.”
I listened to him and realized I agreed with part of what he was saying. I did want a boyfriend. What we were doing, this fucking between us, was reminding me that I wanted someone. Because Steve and I? We were just fucking. I love the guy, but he was still more or less family. Like it existed in a little pocket universe of its own and as soon as we left it, other things would happen.
And my wanting a boyfriend was even more urgent. What this did remind me of was the need to have this kind of sex with a guy I loved, lived with and all the rest. It actually felt really nice to realize it. I leaned closer and kissed him and said, “For a straight dude, you're kind of smart.”
He laughed. “Fuck you, Mark!” He pulled himself out of my arms and got off the sofa. He stretched and I admired all the smooth muscles of his arms and chest. I liked the trimmed hair that narrowed down to the little bush around his dick, and his big hanging balls. I found myself getting hungry for that cock again, but I restrained myself.
We had a shower – not together, as if by an unspoken agreement – and dressed again. We headed to a nice restaurant downtown and shared a bottle of wine. And like a stupid rom-com this thing happened. This meeting that is surrounded by flashing neon lights and the music swells. Because our waiter was this guy who I couldn't take my eyes off. Every time he came to the table I was suddenly stupid. He had blonde hair and big green eyes. He was nicely built, judging by the way his clothes fit him and, after a while, I had the thought that he might be into me as well. I caught his eye a few times and each time I felt faint, like I was going to pass out. I could tell that Steve noticed. He kicked me under the table a few times after the waiter walked away.
So after he brought us our main courses, I could tell Steve was up to something. It was so obvious. He looked up the the waiter sweetly and said, “What's your name?”
The waiter looked surprised and a little confused. “Trevor.”
“Nice to meet you, Trevor. Mark here is a little shy, but he wanted to ask you out. Would that be cool?”
Trevor looked at me with a big smile, then back to Steve, then back to me. He said to me, “So ask me.”
I wanted to spank Steve, but at the same time, I could see that Trevor was not just hot, but clearly smart and charming. And his hair – all wavy and artfully messy, was distracting. So internally I said, 'what the fuck' and in words said, “Yeah, so, uh, Trevor. I'm Mark. I wondered if you wanted to go out some time? What do you say?”
Trevor gave me this look. Like it said about thirty different things at the same time. And all of them were good. He put his hand casually on my forearm and it felt warm. He said, “Let's go out tomorrow, if you're free, and we'll see what happens. Give me your phone.”
He punched in his details and filled our wine glasses and as he filled mine, he rested his hand on my shoulder, giving me a little squeeze, as if he wanted to express clearly that he was interested. I have to say, that felt magical. It had been a while since a guy was so open and sweet and uncomplicated about what he wanted with me.
When Trevor walked away, Steve gave me a huge smile. “That's so awesome! Well done! He's totally in to you. And not just what's in your pants.”
I knew I was blushing, but I said, “Yeah, I think he is. And same for me. Nice guy...”
Steve was excited for me, and that helped me be excited for myself. We talked about my previous boyfriends, something we had never really done. It's not like I'd had a ton, but there have been a few since I came out. I was excited about Trevor, because he reminded me of my second boyfriend John who was similarly hot, blonde and whip-smart. Trevor also seemed like a nice guy, unlike John who had been a first-class asshole.
It made me think of Steve's first girlfriend. I asked him, “What's Margie up to these days?”
He snorted. “Probably fucking the entire swim team at whatever university she's at, if I know her.”
I was surprised at how bitter he sounded. “You never told me what happened.”
He looked annoyed and said, “You remember, I had it bad for her, but then I caught her in the back staircase – you know the one by the gym? - going down on Eduardo, that asshole. I was so stunned I walked away without saying anything. At least she had the decency to wipe the cum off her face when she found me later.”
Poor guy. I remembered being sixteen. Everything was so significant and meaningful and all that Catcher in the Rye bullshit. I had been pining for a guy in my History class when I was sixteen who didn't know I existed. But then I started dating my first boyfriend, Greg that year. Sweet dude. My first fuck, my first blowjob, my first love. All the things.
I finally asked, “So what did you do?”
“You don't remember?”
I thought back and then I did. “Yeah, you went back to school the next day and told everyone that she would give blowjobs in the back staircase for a fee.”
“Right. She tried to make it like she was this emancipated sex goddess, but everyone knew she was fucked up and had treated me badly.”
His anger surprised me. It clearly still hurt. Just then Trevor came back and we ordered some brandy and I gave him a big smile. I raised my glass to him and said, “I'm looking forward to getting to know you.”
My candour seemed to excite him, and he rose to it. “Yeah, me too.” He totally floored me by leaning down and kissing my cheek. That really got my attention. What a sweet guy.
We finished our brandy, left Trevor an excessive tip and walked back to Steve's place. I wasn't sure about sleeping arrangements since I was staying over, but when we got to his place, we sat on the sofa and talked some more, but I was beat. I said, “So, Steve...I need to get some sleep...”
He looked at me a second, then said, “Oh right. You can bunk with me, or this sofa is really comfy. I'll leave it with you.”
I wasn't sure what to do, but when he got up and went into his bedroom, I decided to stay put. I said, “Yeah, I'll think I'll stay out here.”
“Cool, cool. Have a good sleep.”
A few minutes later, he came out in his underwear with sheets and a pillow which he handed to me, then went back to his room.
I got undressed and since it was still hot, just lay there naked, with the sheet covering my ankles. So much had happened, and now I had a date with someone who seemed interesting and sweet and totally hot. I finally fell into a doze after a few minutes, but then came awake really suddenly. Steve, naked, with this big fat erection, was on top of me, grinning.
I managed to say, “What the fuck, Steve?”
He laughed and said, “I couldn't resist. I need to fuck you before you go. Who knows when we'll do this again. Especially if you have a boyfriend, which something tells me you will soon.”
I realized he had a bottle of lube in his hand and he started to explore me, pushing some fingers in while he bent and licked the end of my cock. Then he rubbed the head of his dick all over, teasing my hole with the head. He looked at me this innocent expression. “So how should I fuck you?”
I decided for him. I turned over onto my stomach but spread my legs out and bent my knees slightly so my ass was slightly raised, but the rest of me was flat. I said, “How's this.” I realized I was getting used to the insanity of him fucking me, the sheer lunacy of what we had been doing. But you know what? I didn't care. When his big, slippery tool pushed into my ass I was suddenly transported. I was in heaven. He fucked hard, and long and mashed me into the sofa which was creaking and groaning from all the force he used to fuck me.
His thrusts got bigger and I could hear him breathing hard above me. There was nothing I could do but take it, open myself up to him, feel the length of him stretch my insides. He was almost growling and gasping as his body almost smacked into mine. It felt nuts and I liked that it felt nuts, since what we were doing couldn't exist in any sane universe. My step-brother was fucking me and I loved it.
When he finally reached the point of no return, he didn't stop, didn't slow, but almost yelled, then collapsed on me, breathing hard. I liked the feel of his body on top of mine, all hot and sweaty.
He finally sat up and pulled out of me and slapped my ass pretty hard, but I could tell it was meant to be playful. He said, “You are so sexy, Mark. I hope Trevor appreciates it.”
That was nice to hear but at the same time, I wondered if he knew the effect he had on other people, how his languid kind of hotness was hard to resist. But I laughed and said, “We haven't even had a date yet, idiot. Maybe we won't get along at all.”
“You will. I can tell.”
It was all he said and I kind of believed him. Steve has a kind of sixth sense about people. My step-dad – his father – is the same. He kissed me very sweetly, and went back to his bedroom and I lay there for a while until I decided that I might as well sleep with him at this point. We'd done everything else, after all.
I went in and crawled onto his bed. He turned and gave me a grin, grabbing my cock and starting to stroke it. And then he reached around and scooping out some cum from my ass – his cum – and used it as lube. He stroked me until I totally choked and jizzed all over his hand. Real low and dirty he said, “Lick my hand off, Mark. I know you want to.”
And I did. I totally wanted to. When his hand was clean, he put his arm around my chest and pulled me a little closer. Not too close because it was too tropical in the room. I slept really well that night and when I crawled out of bed in the morning, I went into his kitchen and made coffee and breakfast and we had a chill morning as if nothing had happened. But of course we knew it had.
I realized by mid-afternoon that I was excited for my date with Trevor. I wondered what he would be like, but I kept thinking of what Steve had said, that he could tell something was going to happen. So I went into the date feeling pretty good.
And you know what? It was good. Really good. I'll tell you about it later.
