James
When Sam called to ask me if I wanted to go out with Mark I was both excited and a bit annoyed. I love Sam, don't be mistaken, but sometimes he acts like a doting parent. But at the same time, I had been trying to figure out if it would be a good move to ask Mark out anyway. Mark is one of those boys – and I'm sure you know the type – who has no idea how sexy they are. And it's probably good that he doesn't know because he wouldn't be Mark if he did, and he would probably be a narcissistic asshole as well.
I decided to see this as an opportunity. I mean really, what did you expect? I like sex and I like sex with really cute guys. It's not a crime. I don't do boyfriends. At least not right now. I like being able to explore the range of what men can be like. And I like it all kinds of ways. I guess I mean sometimes I like it anonymous. Sometimes I like more than one cock involved, the more the merrier. This makes focusing on one guy rather complicated. I know some couples manage it, but I don't think that's what I want.
K doesn't have very many chill places to go for a drink, but I asked Mark to meet me at the only one that mattered. It was called The Night Out. Cheesy name, I know. Come on, this is K, what do you expect? But it has this poly-sexual vibe and lots of interesting people of all genders go there from the University so its a great place to meet people and/or hook up with people. Or have a drink with someone you want to fuck.
I was sitting with my martini and I saw him come in. He looked nervous, but I could tell he had been reading some good books on what to wear to show off his assets. Tight but not too tight pants, interesting t-shirt that hugged the gentle curves of his chest. I mean really, the boy has this combination of muscular slimness and unkempt stylishness that is kind of remarkable. I would imagine Sam has said nothing about this.
Oh, and Sam. Don't get me started. Sam is a freakishly smart boy and women tend to swoon when he walks in a room and, like Mark, he doesn't really know it. Or if he does he doesn't trust it. But the thought that Sam doesn't seem to want to entertain truly, is his bisexuality. This is my theory and maybe I'm wrong. Gay guys have this bad habit of assuming – which is actually hoping – that straight guys are hiding their desire to suck cock. Really? They forget that all through high school they may have assumed they were the only gay person there – especially in a small town – and learned to lust after the unattainable. They checked out the jocks in the locker rooms and fantasized that one day one of those jocks would ask them nicely – or not – to get on their knees and suck them off.
But Sam sometimes makes a show of saying he would fall for a guy if the conditions were right, or if the stars were aligned. On one level it's the whole, I'm an enlightened straight guy pose, but I think deep down, Sam actually means it. But as far as I know, he's never actually done it. But I really think he wants to in his heart of hearts. I know he came close with Mandy's brother once, because Kyle told me, but Kyle thinks it was the alcohol talking. Kyle is a bit of an idiot in my view. But enough about them.
Mark sat down and I gave him my best smile and touched his hand. He almost jumped out of his chair. I knew in that moment I would have to take it very easy with him, go very slow. He was like a half-tame cat. I chose to ignore his jumpiness and started asking questions.
“Tell me about Toronto...you grew up there?”
Just then the waiter arrived and before Mark could say a word, I said, “He wants a martini and it's an emergency.”
Our waiter, Scott, who I had slept with recently, gave me a wicked little grin because he knew what was going on. It was fairly obvious, wasn't it?
Mark took a gulp of the ice water Scott had left, then said, “Yeah. Nothing exciting. In the suburbs, only child, just my dad. I was glad to get out.”
I knew there was a whole lot more to that story, but discretion and all that. Scott came back with a very healthy martini and Mark took it like someone on a sinking ship. He took a gulp and put it down. Just when I was wondering if I needed to fill the silence, he asked, “What about you? Where did you grow up?”
“Oh that old story. Well, I went to the same high school as Sam and his brother. In Ottawa. I didn't know them very well back then, but we all washed up here and Sam is now a really good friend.” I stopped, slightly amazed that I was telling him this. I don't like to talk about myself with strangers, so what was going on here? I looked up from my drink and that boy has some power in his eyes, like they're multi-spectrum instruments. I decided I needed to get back on top, so to speak. “You have any boyfriends back home?”
His eyes didn't waver, the bastard. He did swallow uncomfortably, but he held my gaze. “No. I was waiting until I got away. That was my prime motivation. I mean...getting to be on my own. Make my own choices.”
Damn. My little conversational games were falling flat and for all the best reasons. This was a boy who was a warrior for the truth. I could feel it. And he was far too astute to try deception or obfuscation. I took a deep breath. “I get it. We all have to find our way into the world, don't we?” And I reached over and took his hand.
He blushed, which was not only adorable, but really sexy. He reached up and tried to push his hair out of his face, but I could tell it was pointless. Demurely, I took a sip of my martini, trying not to make him any more self-conscious. After a moment, I asked, “You're in English?”
“Yeah...”
He looked almost embarrassed and I wondered where that came from. I decided to haul him back from the brink of feeling bad and said, “Do you like Hardy?”
His eyes widened and he looked both relieved and interested. “I just finished Jude the Obscure. Really heavy.”
I had to laugh. “I think Mr. Hardy needed a lot of therapy. So much gloom!”
Looking over his glass at me, I could tell there was a whole lot going on and I felt...exposed. How does he do that? “It's true...” and he stopped as if he wasn't sure if he should go on, but then, “But I think he was living at a time when everything was falling apart...I mean socially.”
All right. This guy has chops. I felt almost competitive. “But don't you think focusing solely on what seems to me to be the negative is not realistic?” I wondered which part of me was producing this.
“You don't talk like this very often, do you?”
A little stunned, I looked up. He wasn't mocking me. It was just a question. Now I could see why Sam got along with him so well. And I have more to say about that...but not now. “It's not that I don't. But I only do it with people I trust.” The implication of what I said was obvious and he smiled again.
“Nice. I'm glad you trust me.”
Now I really wanted to kiss him, and do other things to him. And I wanted to take back some of the control, so I said, “Sergio is gone for a couple of days. You should come back with me.”
“Where has he gone?”
“Oh...I think he's spending the weekend at his girlfriend's parents' place or something.”
He grinned. “That's very convenient.”
“Isn't it? It's like he knew.”
We got back to the residence and once we were in my room, I could tell he was getting nervous. I know Sam would have got him stoned, but I never liked the stuff. Instead, I went back to basics. I sat beside him on the bed and casually started rubbing his shoulders.
“Sit on the bed...” and he moved and sat cross-legged and I sat behind him and started rubbing again. “Is this all right?”
“Hmmm. It's very nice. Thanks.”
So polite, our Mark. I dug my fingers in a little more, then slid my hand inside his shirt and said, “Can I...”
“Sure.” He sounded a little unsure.
I slid his shirt up and over his head. His back was smooth and had all these elegant muscles and his shoulders seemed so lithe and strong. I was kind of amazed and really turned on by this unexpected thoroughbred of a guy. How could Sam...well, another time for that.
I continued to massage his shoulders and knead my way down his back. His skin was so soft and warm...I was getting really excited. I leaned close to him and kissed him in the very centre of his back. Once, then again, and again. At first I felt him stiffen, but by the fourth kiss, he leaned into me. I felt his body just melt in my direction and I took that as permission.
I crawled around so we were face-to-face. I was on my knees and I moved my face close to his. “Can I kiss you?”
He didn't answer and in time I realized that when that happened his answer was usually an action. So he pulled my face to his and our lips began a really interesting conversation, that quickly involved tongues. He tasted like gin and something sweet and his tongue was almost muscular and it battled with me. I pulled back and we had a long serious of short kisses, each of which was at a different angle, mouths sometime wider, sometimes closed. He licked my bottom lip, he sucked on my tongue, he bit my top lip and it was a kind of virtuosity that I was not expecting.
It was as if his sensitivity allowed him to be so creative and responsive and he knew that what he was doing would feel exciting and intense. That was the word...this boy could make things – anything – intense. His mouth moved to my neck and he seemed less sure. I helped by pulling off my shirt. I was feeling rather desperate and I decided to move things along by undoing my pants and, awkwardly sticking my legs out, and hauled them off. My boxer briefs were half off me exposing a thigh and most of my cock which was rock hard. I pulled my briefs off and, in a moment of wickedness, I put them up to his face.
But Mark just knows how to go with things. This is another thing I learned. He took them from me and inhaled deeply, shutting his eyes. This is the superpower of people who take everything seriously. They can turn the most mundane – or slutty – moments and transform them into...I don't know. Magic?
But my cock needed attention and I had to take charge again. I put my hand on the back of his neck and said “Why don't you get down there and have a taste.”
He looked at me a moment and a slow grin appeared. I knew I had him then. He got down and stretched his legs out so he was lying with his head in my lap and began to lap away, sucking the head of my cock and he took hold of my balls rather forcefully. I could feel a latent energy coming of him and it was intoxicating. I pushed his head down on my cock and pushed my hips up to see if he could take the whole thing, which he did.
This was getting really intense. He was getting intense. He sucked me a moment more, sliding his hand up and down the shaft, but then he sat up. He moved to the edge of the bed and yanked his jeans off. His plain white underwear was distended by what would prove to be a very fine instrument. There was a surprisingly large wet spot on them and I just had to help. I leaned forward and reached in and pulled out his cock. It was not too thick and not too long and in the 'just right' department, it was just veiny enough and cut so the head was exposed, glistening, a little bubble of precum just drooling out. I slid it into my mouth, my head bobbing, my hands exploring his balls, and his smooth belly. He tasted sweet and swampy.
He almost grunted and gasped and I realized I had to be careful. I wasn't ready for a mouthful just yet. I pulled my face away from him and pushed him down, but he had other ideas and he rolled us over so I was on top. The man of unexpected things said, “You have some lube?”
I laughed. “As if, Mark.”
I leaned over to my bag on the floor and pulled it out and tossed it over to him. “Do you have a condom?”
More seriously, I said, “No need. I take PrEP.”
I could tell he had no idea what I was talking about. “Mark, it's fine. I'll explain later.”
I took the lube from him and poured some directly on his cock and massaged him until he was squirming. I wanted to be fucked and fucked right then. I lubed my ass and spread my legs. I knew I still had to be careful with him, so I put both hands on his hips and pulled him forward. He tucked himself into my thighs and I guided his cock into me. I didn't want him to worry about it because I knew this was his first time. It was obvious.
Once he slid into me he looked serious but I could tell his body was telling a different story. “All right, Mark. You can fuck me as hard as you want. You can go as fast as you want. In fact, the faster and harder the better. Just go for it.”
His eyes widened but he took me at my word, because that boy fucked me. He started slow, but he pulled my legs up and and pushed himself forward and started to fuck me in a way I had not expected, like he was this beefy stud with too much body hair and piercings fucking the hell out of someone, but instead, this lovely, smooth, taut guy with a gorgeous cock was doing the reaming. It was kind of confusing. He was grunting, and gasping, but at the same time, he kept his eyes on me which I found too intense. Several times I shut my eyes just to give myself a break and also feel the length of him causing all this amazing friction inside me, hitting that spot that sent burst of sparks thought me.
He thrust over and over and over and I wished I could grab my dick, but the angle was too acute so I reached up and massaged his beautiful ass, slid my hands between his cheeks, then gradually found his hole, that delicate place we all have, and I started to work a couple of fingers into him. He looked almost surprised, but I could tell this was pushing him over the edge.
He fucked me a little faster but I could tell he was riding a wave and finally his eyes shut and his mouth opened and his whole body started to tremble and his hips started to jerk in circles and I could tell he was coming in me, and hard. It seemed to go on and on until he suddenly groaned and his whole body just collapsed to one side, his cock sliding out of me and he fell on his back, gasping.
To say I was amazed is an understatement. This Mark of ours had hidden depths, and hidden passions that I think he was just getting to know because I had just been the recipient of them. As Sam might say, Holy Fuck!
We lay for a while and he reached for my hand after a few minutes. Just a simple touch, but it moved me and I almost found I wanted to cry. What was with this man? He wasn't a boy. That was just a front.
He turned to me, a little smile on his face. “Can I?”
“Can you what?”
He sat up and leaned over my cock then turned again. “Can I?”
I had to laugh. “You may.”
He lay down on his belly again and took my sweaty, dripping prick in his mouth. Just took it in. He used one hand to grip and jack the bottom while his mouth and tongue played with the top. It was a lovely combination and I didn't care if I came in a second or a year, I just let it all happen. It actually took barely a minute or so I was so riled up and I could feel my balls begin to boil. “Mark I'm really close...” which I said because I wasn't sure if he wanted it, but this is Mark. He seems to want everything.
So my body exploded and the epicentre was the end of my cock deep in his mouth and I could feel the pulses of cum leaving my body into him. He swallowed and he was hungry for it. He kept swallowing until I was spent and way too sensitive. I pushed his mouth away and said “Hold on. Too much.”
Once I had calmed down, he leaned in and kissed my softening cock with a slow, sensual serious of kisses, and licks as if we were about to start over again. He kissed my belly and licked my chest, and kissed under my chin and finally met my lips with a string of little touches of his lips. He leaned back and I had to take in the force of those eyes. He was like some kind of alien..
Those university beds are small but he got up and pulled the covers around me, then climbed in himself and wrapped himself around me from behind, tucking his cock into the cleft of my ass. Not sexually, but securely and comfortably. He kissed the back of my neck and I knew in some part of my mind that I wasn't ready to acknowledge that he could easily fall for me. This wasn't ego talking, it was just obvious that for him, since this clearly was his first fuck, that he was vulnerable to falling hard. I felt sad for what was likely to happen after this night.
I don't do love. Sam doesn't really understand it. I think his brother does. He and I...well, that's another story. But Mark and I slept very well. And in the very early morning he fucked me again and it was as good, if not better. And he took me from behind and it was better because I got to experience an amazing, animal- level passion. He gripped my hips and his cock pummelled my inner places and at one point I sank down on my arms with my ass in the air and it felt so...I don't know. Like I was being taken and in the best way. Each time he thrust into me I my whole body lurched forward.
The whole time I slowly stroked myself but the longer he went the less I needed to even touch my cock. Just before he came, I gently brushed the end of my cock and I started to spew all over the bed, and the feeling in my body was white hot. I choked into the sheets and felt him grip my hips even more tightly had with two or three slower and deeper thrust I felt him cum, I heard him cum, gasping. He finally stopped and I felt his lips on my back, on my neck. Where did this man come from?
And he let me fuck him, which was surprising. He let me slid into him with a little preparation (and I wore a condom for his benefit) from my fingers. I could tell it was painful for him, at least at first. I kept asking him if I should stop, but he took my ass in his hands and pushed me into him even harder. I think he was determined to have experienced this. By the time I came, he was clearly enjoying himself and he produced a lake of cum on his belly, his face red and full of smiles.
He napped for a while and I found I was ready for more, so I got on top of him and, in some ways, I fucked him again except it was into me. It took longer and was less intense, but I was able to lean down and kiss him while fisting my cock and when I came, he managed to catch some of it in mouth which clearly sent him spinning because he fucked upward really hard and came with an almost cry before he collapsed to the bed again.
To say that we were exhausted doesn't even cover it. We slept into the morning. I got up at one point and went down to the dining room and found us some coffee and some toast and we sat in my bed, laughing like schoolchildren.
Several times I found myself looking at him, wondering where this being came from and wondering if I could – or even wanted to – make an exception. Could I go deeper with someone like him, assuming I wanted to, or could? But in the end, I felt it was not possible. Not for me. Maybe some time, with someone. Maybe...well...some other time I'll tell you what I was thinking about.
Mark got up finally saying he needed to go back upstairs and finish a paper. I watched him put his clothes on feeling a mix of exhaustion and longing. That was confusing. When his shoes were back on, he leaned down to me and kissed me a few times. I could see in his eyes that he wanted so much more than I had. That wasn't longing, that was guilt.
