One More Step
I had to admit that Mark getting some action almost didn't seem fair. I mean, I was glad the guy was going to get laid and all, that's totally cool. But me? It had been a while. I mean a long while. Not that I've been this dude who gets some every damn weekend. That's never been me. I like it more chill, more – I don't know – organic. If it happens it happens. But it doesn't change the ache in my balls, right?
I decided I wanted to meet this Robert guy, so I hung around the following Friday to check him out. Was I being like some over-protective parent from the 50's? Maybe. But I wanted to make sure my man was in good hands, so to speak. A guy's got to look out for his buddies.
Mark was totally freaking when I got back from class. He was sitting on his bed like he was waiting to write an exam he had forgotten to study for.
“Ok, Mr Harrison – that's his name – are you ready? You got a condom? You washed all the requisite parts? You ready?”
I gotta say he looked kind of pissed when I said that. I'm an idiot, right? That's what I'm told.
“Sam...I'm not twelve...”
That hurt. I felt bad. I sat on my bed, ready to make it good again, but he beat me to it.
“I know you're just being a good friend and I really appreciate it. But you can tone it down.” I could tell he had trouble coming out with that and I totally fuckin' deserved it.
“You're right. My bad. My very bad. I'll shut up about it unless you ask me. Sorry.”
I felt like shit. I kind of wish I had decided to go find James or something instead of sitting here. But there was nothing for it but to hang until this Robert guy showed up.
When he did he seemed like a decent guy so I felt like Mark was in good hands.
I was knee-deep in Sartre – now he's my man – when Mark came into the room and slammed the door, just like before. This really shook me. What was going on?
I decided to follow Mark's advice, so I just said 'hi' and looked at him expectantly. He sat on his bed and he looked really sad. I mean kind of like someone dumped him sad. But that wasn't on the menu tonight. I looked at my book, waiting.
Just when I was about to dive in with a bunch of questions, he spoke up. “What a shitty night. I mean...it was nice until it wasn't.” He looked up at me and I could tell he wanted some help.
“Like you went out for dinner...you talked...and maybe went for a walk...back to his place...?”
“Yeah, something like that. But we got to his place...it was nice and all. We sat and talked...you know...necked and all that. But when it came time to...you know...when clothes started coming off, I just freaked. Actually before I freaked I started feeling nauseous. I mean, who does that?
I felt for the guy. That really sucked. “So you didn't stay long...?”
“No! I just jumped into my pants – I hadn't even taken my shirt off – and got the hell out of there. He must think I'm an idiot.”
Without thinking I just reached across from my bed and put my hand on his shoulder. “Hey...hey dude...I'm sure he just thinks what I think. I'm sure he justs thinks: jeez, poor guy was so nervous it blew his circuits. That's what I think he thinks. That's what I think.”
I got up and went in the closet and got my emergency scotch and poured us a shot. “Here. This won't help but it will sure taste good.”
He laughed, and downed the shot and held out the glass for more. Good man.
“Thanks, Sam...I really appreciate...I mean, you're a good friend...” It looked like he was going to say more, but he stopped himself.
We watched some stupid videos on his laptop and he seemed to calm down and for a moment I wondered if a patented jack-off session was in order but I decided to just let him chill.
Over the weekend, I decided to call the professionals, and by that I mean James. He knows his way around a guy and he was a very cool guy himself. I called him up and told him what was going on. He seemed to get it and I knew he was interested, so I finally said, “So you feel like dating the guy? I mean don't if you aren't into him, but I think you are.”
He laughed into his phone. “Mark is adorable. Who wouldn't be into him? I bet you are somewhere in that mess you call a head.”
I laughed. “Yeah, right. But seriously, James. Why don't you ask him out?”
“You don't have to ask me twice. You think he would be into it?”
“Ah, I could tell he liked you, and I know you would treat him right.”
“You know Sam, you sound like an anxious father or something. You've got to watch that.”
“Yeah, I know. Mark sort of said the same thing.”
“Well listen to him. Anyway, give me his number and I'll text him.”
So James made contact and that was that. I mean, what more could I do and I was sure as hell told to stop doing anything. I had an evening to myself and if I knew James, probably a morning as well, depending on his roommate.
I tried to read some Sartre to get my head out of my ass, but I couldn't concentrate. Being, nothingness, blah, blah. It was too much. I realized I was getting antsy and a little horned up. I got my phone and the trusty app and saw who was up for something.It's not something I do very often, but it's good to have in emergencies.
Sure enough there was someone in a nearby college – convenient, huh? She was cute in a generic kind of way which was just fine. We agreed to hook up. I told her we couldn't come to my room, so she invited me over. She was really sweet and in a few minutes we were getting into exploring each other's dental work. I went for what was under hear t-shirt and she went below that and things went from there.
Yeah, I fucked her and yeah, I came and she came and everything went according to plan. But there were moments when I kissed her, or kissed parts of her when I felt almost not into it, like I really just wanted a cup of tea or something. I mean I knew she was hot and Mr Dick seemed to know what he was doing, but even he seemed to be phoning it in. Like I was hard, but not that hard. I came but not with much enthusiasm. Huh. I couldn't figure it out.
When all the fires had been put out and we were just lying there, I suddenly felt I had to get home. Like I couldn't get out of there fast enough. I made a lame excuse and practically jumped into my clothes. She was sweet about it and seemed to have this world-weary attitude as if this was how all guys treated her. But I am not all guys. This was different. I went home feeling useless and dejected. I really did make fucking tea for God's sake! How pathetic was I? Here I was sending Mark out to get his clock cleaned by a really nice guy and I got laid, but was at home feeling shitty about myself. Go figure.
I went to bed early after getting blazed and didn't wake up until who knows when. Well, I knew when. When Mark came home is when. He tried to sneak in, but I woke up the second the door opened.
“Mark! You made it home alive! How was the evening?”
He was grinning like a fool, so I didn't have to ask.
Another week of same old – papers, books and on and on. The fucking drudgery of it all. On Friday I saw that Mark was closing in on himself; like he was suddenly the way he was when he dragged his ass up those stairs with all that luggage. I wasn't doing much better.
But I know why he was feeling down because I heard the reason from James. I like James. I mean we are buds. But I guess he's only good for maybe two dates at most. He doesn't do other stuff like, say, actually getting to know the guys he fucks. Poor Mark. He was taking it hard and I told James but he, being James, was all, I don't know why he expected anything from a couple of nights of fun. This isn't on me.
Well it is on you, James. Anyway, that Friday Mark was slouched on his bed with his laptop trying to write a paper on a feminist critique of Middlemarch or some damn shit like that and I realized I had had it with the two of us. I threw down Hegel (yeah, still trying) and said, “Mark, buddy. This black cloud we're under is getting me fuckin' down. We are getting toasted and then we're going to jerk ourselves into next week. I think it's the only cure for this.”
He looked up at me and was totally not convinced. Like it all seemed too much effort. But I was having none of it. “Mark...?”
“Fine. Whatever. It will distract me for a few minutes from this god-awful paper and from feeling like an idiot about James.”
“Yeah, I hear you. James is a cool guy, but I guess he's not, like, husband material.”
“Evidently not.”
He was pissed. He sounded all British and snooty.
I pulled out the lube and set us up. I watched him slide onto my bed and slip off his track pants like he'd done it a million times. Hanging out with James, for whatever else it was worth, sure chilled the guy out. I peeled off my shorts and we were set.
I put on some porn like the one we watched before, but Mark – again – surprised me. “Is there something else?”
I looked at him, a bit puzzled. “Like...?”
“I don't know. Something different.”
Interesting. I wasn't sure what he was getting at, but I spent a bit of time in the bisexual department until I found something that would probably make him happier than me, but I was feeling magnanimous. It was one that – as I scrolled quickly through it – featured these cute young dudes getting it on while their female “friend” sat in a chair checking under her own hood. I could look at her and Mark could...well, you get it.
I started the scene and handed him the lube. I realized we hadn't smoked anything, but at this point it didn't seem to matter. He handed me the bottle and I glanced over and, despite the funk he was in, his dick sure as hell had no problems. I lubed myself up and looked at the screen. It was hard to really concentrate on the girl because it kept switching back to the guys who were all over each other. 69 and a whole lot of numbers in between. But she was having a grand time and she even produced a sweet dildo and it had its way with her, judging by the sounds she was making.
At one point, one of the dudes starting fucking the other one from behind. I turned to Mark who seemed to be glazing over watching them go, jacking his dick really slow like he wanted to last forever. I said, “What's with wanting to take it from behind? I mean you don't get to kiss or anything.”
He looked at me, startled. “You're asking this now? I don't know. It's fun?”
“Did you and James do that?”
To say he looked surprised doesn't really cover it. “Why the hell do you want to know?”
“Chill out! I'm just curious what you dudes get up to.”
He sighed. “Yeah, James and I did that. Happy?”
“Nice! I bet it was fun...girls never seem to want that.”
“Yeah, it's fun. I guess...do you really want to hear this?”
“Sure...why not?”
“Well, it's not like I'm an expert, but I think the top can really fuck as hard as he wants. I mean, that's how it felt, anyway. It was fun.”
I didn't say a word. I hadn't thought of that and was wondering if a girl would be into it. Probably some. “So he really reamed you out.”
Mark laughed. He's such a goof. “Yeah, he did.”
“Did you fuck him?”
“Did I...? Uh, yeah, I totally fucked him.”
I looked at his face and I could tell he was getting off on this. Getting off on telling me what he'd done with James. Interesting. I decided to play along. It was all fun and games, right? “How did you do it?”
“Like, from behind...or...”
“Yeah. Whatever.”
“Ok. I was on top. I had to really push his legs back to get my cock in him. But he's done it a million times so he know what he's doing.”
“You can probably kiss him while you go at it?”
Mark looked down at his cock which was really messy and he adjusted the angle of his fist. He was totally going to town on this. I was glad to distract him.
He looked back at me as if he had decided something. “Yeah, I kissed him. We played football with out tongues. It was really hot. He totally grabbed my ass while I pounded him, like he was trying to push me in deeper. And you know what else he did?”
I realized I couldn't imagine but I guess I wanted to know. I looked down at my own dick to make sure I was still lubed up – but there was no worry there. I was producing enough for a small city. I looked back at Mark and it was like he was waiting for me. “He slid a finger in my ass. Actually, I think it was two. That was awesome. I mean it kind of sent me over the edge.”
“So you filled him up? Just like that?”
“Yeah.” He chuckled. “He takes that drug...I forget what's it's called...so I could go bareback. I guess I should get some.”
That was new to me. I hadn't even heard of the stuff. But that thought was gone in a second when I asked, “So did he get to jizz?”
Mark grinned at me, his head cocked to one side. “Yeah, Sam. He did. He fuckin' jizzed in my mouth.”
There was something odd in his face and again I felt like the stupid little kid in the room, and what I thought I was doing might not be. But what was I doing?
But I really didn't care, because the cum gods had arrived and my skin started to tingle, and my whole body began to buzz in an epic wave of good things and my cock spewed out all up my chest, and under my chin, finally making the usual little lake around my belly. My eyes were squeezed shut and I could hardly breathe. Fuck that was intense!
I turned to Mark and he was looking at me, but his plane was still climbing into the stratosphere. His fist was almost a blur on his cock, but he didn't take his eyes off me. It was strange but I didn't want to just leave him there on his own, so I felt like I was in the co-pilot seat heading for the stars.
Finally he kind of gasped. “Oh fuck, I'm totally there...” and he shut his eyes and opened his mouth but didn't make any sound. His body was shaking and man, did he cum! Like a fuckin' fountain. His face was still turned my way and a big glob landed on his cheek, on his neck, a few streaks on his chest and then his cock just kept pouring out onto his hand and his belly. It was like a flood. I could smell it. It smelled like mine.
He opened his eyes and just stared at me, then, after a moment, down at his belly and the mess he made. He started to laugh. A really simple, Mark laugh. I had to smile. I mean how can you not smile when someone has such a good time? I sure as hell had.
I looked down at myself. We must have cum enough for a quart of fucking milk. Mark then did something that made me pause, I mean stopped my brain for a second. He reached over to the lake of cum on my belly and ran his forefinger through it and brought it to his mouth. He sucked it off. Just like that. What had James been teaching him? But I had to hand it to him. Nice move. A good end to a fun time.
I chuckled, shaking my head. “You're as bad as me.”
Mark grinned that grin of his and reached for his t-shirt, but he didn't say a word. He mopped up his cum as best he could, leaving a few streaks behind then handed me the shirt. It was pretty damp and when I was finished it was no good for anything but the wash.
He got off my bed and put his track pants on and went back to Ms Eliot. Then he lifted his head and said, “Thanks Sam. Really nice. I feel better.”
What a sweet dude. “You're welcome, Mark. I feel way better myself.” And I did. I felt relaxed and my head was clear and maybe even clear enough for Hegel. Who knows?
Later that night I got a text from my brother, so I called him. “Owen! How are you?”
Owen had a sad story to tell. His bf totally dumped him.
“Man, that shit. Why?”
“I don't fucking know. He says he wasn't ready to focus on one person or some shit like that. I mean how hard is it?”
“Owen, man. That's so lame. I'm sorry. You must be pissed.”
“Can I come to K and hang for a few days?”
“You're my brother. You can come whenever. Do you want me to book you into the hotel down the street?”
“Thanks, Sam. I'll see you next Friday.”
I put my phone down feeling really bad for him. His ex-fucking-boyfriend doesn't know what a life he's throwing away. Fucker.
I told Mark all about it and he seemed just as pissed as I was. But apart from anything else, the chance to spend time with Owen always made me happy. I also wondered what Mark would think of him. Or what Owen would think of Mark. Interesting...but nah. That wouldn't work would it?
Getting back to Hegel, I settled in to that nice haze I get after jerking off. It's like a bit of a high and self-induced. Nice. I looked over at Mark and he was typing into his keyboard, looking all studious, his blond hair kind of a mess, kind of hanging over his face like some sort of mystery.
