ALL A MAN WANTS
By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
I stopped with my knuckles poised to knock on Jorge's door. He and Aleyda were at it again.
"What do you want?" Aleyda was screaming, partly in anger and partly to be heard over the cries of their youngest child. "What do you want out of me?"
"What do I want?" Jorge yelled back. "I want a wife, God damn it!"
"Well what do you think a wife is? I married you, we have three children, I work full-time and keep the house...."
"Not very damned well, you don't!" Jorge riposted. "Just look at this place! And it stinks in here!"
"It's the children, they make messes. And Manuel is still in diapers, and I can't wash them all the time. What do you expect out of children, anyway?"
"Nothing. But I expect you to make an effort to clean it up."
"When? When am I going to clean the house? It takes all I can do to work and come home and cook and clean up the children and help them with their homework."
"So let's hire a maid. Or you could work less hours. Or you could quit...."
"Not that again!" Aleyda was screaming out of anger alone now, her child had quieted, probably in the arms of one of Aleyda's sisters or their oldest child. "You know it takes all you and I can make just to keep this house."
"Yeah, well...." Jorge said.
"And another thing...."
I rapped quickly; Aleyda was about to change to another of their favorite screamfest topics; it was as much of a lull as I would get in any reasonable amount of time. Jorge and Aleyda fought a lot. It couldn't be good for them or their children; I wondered how much longer it would go on before they broke up.
Jorge answered the door, dressed in a red-and-yellow plaid shirt and worn-out blue jeans, his hair neatly combed and his mustache as neatly trimmed as ever. He ran his hand in baffled vexation through his black, smoothly-shining hair (he didn't muss it any, he kept it combed straight back) and managed a smile. It fit easily on his long, rounded, well-formed face. "Hey, Miguel, come on in." His body wasn't very muscled, but it fit him; just a well-formed, compact body that could have been born from a sculptor's fingers rather than by being born. Well-proportioned, that's the best word I can think of to describe Jorge, everything about him was the right size and shape.
I stepped only just inside the door, loathe to go in any further and be possibly dragged into their squabble. "How's it hanging, amigo?" I said lightly, as if I hadn't heard a thing.
"You ready to go?" Jorge asked me. He and I were Hispanic-American, with more generations of citizen ancestors than most Caucasians, and English was our first language. Just a word or two in honor of our heritage had made its way into our conversation.
"Sure. I knocked, didn't I, like we agreed?" I returned. I lived just two doors down from Jorge and Aleyda, except they had a house and I had a bachelor apartment in a small apartment building, so there hadn't been any car motor to signal my arrival; my knock had been it.
"Okay, I'll get my stuff and be right out."
"Jorge, I told you what would happen...." Aleyda said, but I had turned and walked out. She was always giving him ultimatums, and trying to stop him from doing anything but stay home with her all the time. Aleyda was a nice woman, a hard worker and a good mother, but she didn't have a clue as to how to make a man happy. She thought that the marriage ceremony was all there was to it.
Not that Jorge didn't have a major macho attitude. Take what I'd overheard. He expected her to work full-time and also care for the house and children, without any help from him. Of course, Aleyda knew that and had married him anyway. Had she expected him to change after the marriage? Well, most women do.
Jorge showed up with his own gear and we drove to the fishing place mostly in silence. Neither of us mentioned the argument he'd been having with Aleyda.
Women don't understand that about men, how we can just sit and be silent and not need to say anything to each other for minutes or hours. And when we do talk, it's only a few words, and long pauses in the middle for no good reason any women can see. Even me, I spend a lot of my days alone in my apartment (I'm a free-lance artist), and I didn't feel the need to talk much, even. Just spending the time with Jorge was enough for me.
So, in comfortable silence punctuated mostly by gulps of cold beer, we spent the day fishing and caught a good batch of trout. I drove him back to his house, and he and I exchanged significant looks as he got out of the car. "Bring them on over here." I said, and he nodded dolefully. Then I drove on to my place and brought in the trout and both our fishing gear.
You see, Jorge had to get his bags, which had been piled out on the porch. Aleyda had spent the day packing his clothing and, so you see, she was telling him plain as day that she was throwing him out. He brought in his bags and set them down. "Just put that stuff anywhere, Jorge." I said.
"Thanks." He was looking around; he hadn't seen it since I had done some work on it. "It's nice." he said. "You keep this place very neat."
I shrugged. "I have to take breaks from drawing, get up and move around, so I clean house. Tell you what, if you'll clean and gut the fish for me, I'll cook dinner."
"Hey, muy bueno, compadre." He said jovially.
I turned to and fixed those trout by grilling them like steaks with peppercorns on top, and fixed up a side of some fancy vegetables I had in my freezer. With some French rolls for the side, twenty minutes later, I was able to put out a pretty nice spread. I got a good look at his taut little buttocks in those tight blue-jeans, as he bent over and inhaled gratefully at the repast I had prepared for us.
"Man, you're going to spoil me with all this!" he said. "If I didn't know it was you, I'd think I was being entertained by royalty."
I laughed. "Another thing I do while I'm resting from my drawing; I learned how to cook. I have more gourmet stuff in this little efficiency kitchen than most people have in their full kitchen and pantry."
"I can believe it." We sat down and he bit into the fish steak and rolled his eyes. "Wonderful! Man, if Aleyda could cook like this, I'd never have left her."
I didn't point out who had left who, men don't do that, either. "She can't cook?"
"Not much." he grumbled. "Says she doesn't have time. Just throw something in the microwave and heat it up. Supper for me usually comes in a little foil tray."
Women wouldn't have to listen to this as news, they would have talked it all out over and over again, long ago. Like I said, men aren't like that.
"I'm sorry to hear that." I agreed. "Well, as long as you live here, you'll eat like a king."
That got a grin. "Sounds good to me. I see one more TV dinner, I'm going to turn into a TV."
After dinner, we watched television, in silence. A nice, comfortable silence. It was nice having someone in the house with me. I spend too much time alone. I hate to admit it, but I was glad Aleyda had thrown Jorge out.
Finally, when the news came on, he yawned and said, "Well, I'm ready to hit the sack, but I need a shower. I smell like fish." He sniffed loudly. "And so do you."
"So help yourself, and I'll take one when you're done." I agreed.
He came out wearing only a pair of thin, yellow boxer shorts, and I tried not to look, scurried inside and closed the door, turned the water on and dove in, letting the shock of water help douse my flames of need. Damn, how was I going to sleep next to him like that? I finished and he knocked on the door while I was drying off.
"I'm getting into bed." he announced.
"Okay." I said. "Which side do you prefer?"
"I don't care." he said. "With Aleyda, I usually end up on the left."
"So take the left."
He was talkative, and continued, "You know, man, if Aleyda was half the housewife you are, I wouldn't ever have a complaint."
"Well, my work keeps me home." I said again. "You can't draw non-stop, you have to draw a little and stop for a few minutes. Nothing else to do but keep house or fiddle with food."
He sighed happily. "Yeah, you're a man and you know what a man wants."
"Slavish devotion from the missus." I said sarcastically as I dried my back.
"You got that right." He said, not spotting the joke, or not caring. "A man comes home from a hard day's work, he wants to have a hot meal and some television, and not a lot of screaming and jabbering. Watch television, drink a few beers, then into bed for a little game of hide-the-sausage."
"Just stick it in her." I ventured.
"Yeah." he said. "You're lucky you're not married. Man, you get married and you'd think you could drop all that romance shit. Instead, you have to lie there and hug and kiss on her when all you want to do is get off and then get some sleep. Most nights, I would have given anything to have Aleyda just reach over and grab me. Suck it off, ride my dick, anything, just do it and then leave me alone. But a woman has to be stroked before, and afterwards she wants to cuddle, when you're all tired and sleepy and worn out. And she wants to cuddle, on and on and on. If you don't, then you don't love her."
"A man doesn't want that." I agreed.
"Damn right." he said. "Just get me off, and then get away."
I didn't answer, and I thought that ended the conversation. I finished up, dug a pair of briefs out of the small bathroom cabinet, glad I kept my underwear in here in the bathroom. I walked out wearing just it, and Jorge was lying on top of my bed, stark naked, with a hardon! "Hey, Miguel?" he said to me.
"Yeah, Jorge?" I couldn't take my eyes off his cock! Seven beautiful inches of Hispanic cock, which leaned gracefully towards his stomach, wrapped in a dun-colored foreskin that segued into the rest of his body flawlessly.
"I need to get off."
"Oh?" I said. "Well...okay, go ahead." I said. I had walked over to him while staring, not realizing what I was doing, my body on automatic, it continued on the course I had laid out before I realized what Jorge was, or wasn't, wearing.
His hand took mine and placed it on his crotch. "I said I need to get off." he repeated.
I could have pretended not to understand, or to be offended. But I understood perfectly. He had read my beads all right. What I did say, as I pulled on his pud, was, "How long have you known?"
"Oh, years and years." he grinned at me, a graceful curve of lips and shine of teeth.
"And you didn't care?" I asked him.
"Naw, you're a friend." he said. "I've seen you looking when I wasn't supposed to see you looking."
"I'm sorry."
"Hey, amigo." he said softly. "I'm here, aren't I?"
"Yeah." I breathed. "You're here."
"So knock yourself out." he reached up and grabbed me by the back of my head and pushed me down, not hard, just a gesture to tell me what he wanted next.
I didn't need any more encouragement, I gulped him down and slathered his love-muscle with my tongue eagerly, trying to cram that entire gorgeous body into my mouth all at once. The angle was awkward, and I scooted around to get where my feet and legs were mostly hanging over the side of the bed, but my mouth was on Jorge's cock and his legs were splayed wide to give me plenty of room, and he cocked his arms out and put his hands behind his head, just looked down at me like that, not helping me in any way, just letting me service that beautiful, beautiful pud the way I'd always wanted to!
I nursed him gratefully, loving this gift of his body. He had the pleasure of my mouth on his cock playing up and down it with fervent attentions, I had the joy of that wonderful hunk of man-flesh in my mouth, tasting the musky, salty, meaty flavor of it as it bobbed in and out of my mouth, working him hard and fast, for he had just been telling me what he wanted at the end of a hard day, a quick release and then some sleep. I was happy to obey his wishes.
"Mmmm." came the soft moan from Jorge as I lavished my attentions on his prong, the groan punctuated with each of my rapid strokes up and down his thick shaft. Mm-mm-mm-mm-mm! Just that long, slow moan of pleasure, and it wasn't something he was doing for me, he was groaning because it felt good and when something feels good, you moan. I shifted over onto one side with my body while keeping my mouth firmly upright on his cock, this let me pound my pud while I suckled his juicy dong, resting one shoulder on his smooth, clean thigh and I humped my fist in the same tempo as I sucked on his prick.
"Mmmmh!" Jorge said to me.
"Nnnnnh!" I responded, for my hand felt wonderfully alive on my prick, the taste of a best friend's cock turned it from a mere meat-beating into a joining of our lovemaking.
"Mmmh! Mmmh!" Jorge groaned, and I realize he was nearing his orgasm. Now he was groaning on purpose, to warn me and let me pull loose if I wanted to, but I clung tight because I wanted to instead, and after a few more desperate moans, he clutched my head in both hands, fucked into my face fiercely, and with a strangled gasp, he cut loose and blasted my mouth with his come-wads, and he humped at my mouth roughly as he filled me with his creamy jizz, and I held it all in my mouth, giving him a warm bath of his own man-juice, so that he slorped noisily in my mouth, the sound of a washing machine agitator, slorp-slup-slorp-slup-slorp-slup, as his cock dove into that creamy morass and then pulled back out, all sticky and heavy with clinging sperm.
After a time, he was done, and before his cock could deflate, I quickly grasped it tight in my mouth, and holding it deep within me, only then did I swallow his load, pulled and suctioning his cock clean with my mouth and tongue as I swallowed, so that when I released him, he was as clean as he had been when he first stepped out of that shower.
I was still whomping my sausage, and I scooted up on the bed quickly and rolled onto my back and began to really bang my pole, I was lost in the sensation and my eyes closed so that I squinted and my mouth grimaced, my entire face wrenched up in a knot.
And Jorge's hand reached down and gently wrested my prong from my grip, and I looked up, startled for real this time, lying there helpless as he kindly took my cock in his hand and began to pump it for me, a good friend returning the favor. I was so hot I groaned immediately, the feel of Jorge's hand on my cock was all I needed, all I could ever want, just my friend giving me pleasure, and I groaned, gasped out loud sounds of raunchy pleasure, "Hah! Hah! Hah! Hah!"
"Come on, compadre, shoot it for me!" Jorge encouraged me. His face was looking right into mine as he flogged my cock, watching my face contort with pleasure, given by his hand. "Come on, buddy, really shoot it all over yourself." he urged me. I could tell; he wanted to watch my face as I shot my wad! I couldn't help but obey that command, my body was spasming from the sheer pleasure of this lusty rut, and I fucked upwards into Jorge's palm and I rose up partly off the bed, as my stomach contracted, but keeping my eyes locked on his that gleamed in triumph and, my buttocks working frenetically and uselessly, I blew my nuts right then and there.
Jorge was surprised at the ferocity of the load, and so was I, it flew everywhere at once! It landed on me, it landed on him, it landed all over the covers, there was no place anywhere near me that was safe from that high-flying, wide-falling come-load. Jorge ducked to one side, but it got him on top of the head for his troubles, and he groaned in dismay. But he kept right on flogging, a true-blue friend to the end, kept his hand working my pud until it became a soggy sludge in his hand and his eyes stayed on my face as I looked at him through a fog of pleasure, locked to his gaze with my own.
Done at last, I gasped for breath as quick as I could, as Jorge wiped ineffectually at his body. "Oh, man, I'm, so, sah, sah, sorry!" I panted out before I was ready to speak.
He grinned a reluctant grin of admiration. "Man, that was a load you had in you!" he said. "It got everywhere. You're going to have to scrub the entire apartment tomorrow."
"Let me get a rag and clean you up." I said as I rose to a sitting position.
"Oh, screw that." he said, grabbing my shoulder and throwing me back down. "It can wait until morning. Let's get some sleep."
He pulled the covers out from under me as I groggily inchwormed upwards to the pillow, and then threw the covers over both of us and snuggled in tightly.
"Good night, amigo." he sighed in my ear.
The smell of my jism was heavy in my nostrils. And the smell of him. "Good night." I said.
As I lay there with Jorge's breaths stroking my neck, I thought about what I had heard Aleyda screaming at Jorge just that morning. "What do you want?" she kept pleading with him.
Like it was the mystery of the ages or something, when the answer was so damned simple! Companionship without complications. A clean house without having to hear how much work it took to get it that way or keep it that way. Food served lavish and fresh without hassles or moans about how hard it was to do or how much it cost or why by all rights he didn't deserve it. And finally, sex to release the flood and quiet the flesh, to permit a good night's sleep.
Yeah, sleep! That was what I needed right then. So did Jorge.
And so we went to sleep in each other's arms.
THE END
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E-mail me at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM