A note to Nifty readers:
Since I submitted the first chapter of Cieran and Marcus, I have received a number of emails from you, the Nifty readers, wanting more. It was so nice to receive all your notes of appreciation and encouragement; thank you very much! Marc and I are so flattered that you have taken such an interest in our story. Although I had intended to write only four chapters chronicling the beginning of our relationship, I have been persuaded by your emails to keep going with our story. I can't promise much about any of the future chapters, only that they will all be based, more-or-less on the actual events of our relationship. Keeping in mind that I'm a musician (not a trained writer), I also promise to make them as polished and engaging as I can.
Also, some of you have requested hearing Marc's version of things. I, of course, agree with you, but he seems to think that my stories will suffice. Don't worry, I'll work on getting him to come around!:)
Finally (and don't read into this next paragraph, just take it at face value), this is meant to be a love story. As one of you pointed out to me, if the story were only about sex it would be voyeurism. And, to be frank, that is not what I want. Entertaining though it may be, not every story can read like the life and times of Brian Kinney from Queer as Folk.
That said, here we go with part five!
Cieran and Marcus, Part 5
I woke the next morning very confused. Marcus was not in my bed. I looked around to discover he wasn't even in the room.
"I didn't dream all that, did I?" I thought to myself.
No, surely not. It was so vivid, it couldn't have been a dream. I could still feel him, feel the soft touch of his skin, the warmth of his arms around me in the middle of the night. But where was he? Where were his clothes? His shirt that got tossed into the corner by the door? Where were his pants that I took off of him as we kissed our way passionately over to the bed. Where were his boxers that should have been...
"Well," I thought, "I wasn't really paying attention to where those landed."
But this didn't make any sense! Where the fuck was Marcus?!
Just then, the knob on the door to my room began turning slowly. Someone was coming into the room. Very quietly, and very carefully, the door swung open.
Marcus stood in the doorway holding two large cups of coffee. His look quickly faded from a sly smile to one of mild frustration when he noticed me awake, staring up at him.
"Dammit! I was hoping to be back before you woke up. Just cream, right? No sugar?"
"Yeah, thanks. This is awfully romantic of you," I said with a smile. This was too good to be true! Not only had I spent the night with this beautiful man, he managed to sweep me off my feet first thing the next morning. What a prince!
"Oh, I know," he replied playfully.
Clad only in my boxers, I got out of bed as he handed me my coffee. We both moved over to the loveseat and sat together, his arms around me, drinking our coffee and taking in the morning. It was a new morning, a new chapter, something totally different for both of us.
We sat in silence for a few moments, then he spoke.
"I can't get last night out of my head. It was amazing."
"Yeah, I thought so, too," I said with a smile.
"I mean, I've had sex before, but nothing like that. It was incredible. And to think, this time yesterday morning, I was a nervous wreck!"
"You were?"
"Yeah," he exclaimed. "I had thought about you for most of Christmas Break. I thought about what it would be like to tell you. I had hoped that you would still speak to me after I told you how I felt. I certainly didn't expect to make love to you."
"Well," I said as I took his coffee out of his hand , placing it off to the side on the floor, "you..."
I kissed him.
"...can make love..."
I kissed him again, turning around to drape my arms around his neck.
"...to me..."
I kissed him yet again, this time swinging my leg over to straddle him.
"...anytime."
I stayed there, straddling him with my arms around his neck as we made out. His hands found their way to my hips, caressing up and down my sides. After a few minutes of this, I slipped his shirt up and off of him, then stood up and dropped my boxer shorts to the floor, revealing my hard cock. I kneeled down in from of him, quickly undid his belt and jeans, and, in one motion, slid both his pants and boxers off of him. He sat completely naked in front of me, his stiff cock even more beautiful than I remembered from the night before.
I straddled him once again, kissing him deeply. Then, moving my mouth to his ear, I whispered to him.
"Make love to me now, Marcus."
This time it was he who reached for the bottle of lube. I felt his fingers spread the stuff into my hole, and he spread some on his own throbbing cock. I was so horny, I could barely stand it. I put one hand on the back of his neck and kissed him passionately while I slowly sat on his cock, guiding it in with my other hand. I hadn't bottomed in a long time, but the slight pain was gone almost immediately. Then it was just him inside me, his hands on my hips guiding me up and down. It was a wonderfully agonizing heaven. I wanted this feeling to last forever.
They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but I don't think enough words exist to describe the look on Marc's face as he entered me. It was so beautiful.
We worked into a slow but steady rhythm. He thrust slowly and powerfully with his hips as I rocked down on him, steadily jacking my own cock. He kissed all over my chest as I ran my fingers through his hair, both of us moaning softly. After what seemed like a timeless eternity of slow, passionate love-making, he tensed up, pulled me down powerfully, thrust his cock deep inside me and came. That was all I could take. Jacking my own cock furiously, I felt his hot cum fill my insides, and I came all over his tight abs and chest. It was an incredible orgasm; I felt like all the energy and tension in my body was pulled out blissfully through my cock. I was so drained. It was like I had instantly received a full-body massage.
"I love you, Marcus."
"I love you, Cieran."
It was so true. I did love him, and I knew it then and there. We had only spent one night together, and only had sex twice, but I knew it without a doubt. I had known it deep down for months. Best of all, though, was that I could tell he knew it without a doubt, too. The look on his face said everything I needed to know.
We made love many more times that morning. We tried every position we could think of, both of us switching back and forth between bottom and top. My room looked as if a bomb had gone off by the time we were finished.
We finally stopped when our lunch arrived; being unwilling to venture out from our steamy adventure, we had decided to order in. We sat on the floor as we ate, talking about all sorts of things. We caught up on Christmas Break, talked about our class schedule for the coming semester, we just talked and laughed together. It was great, just like we had jumped back into one of our Friday-morning coffee conversations; we were lovers and still best friends.
"Wanna grab a shower?" I asked as we finished eating. "Fucking makes me pretty sweaty."
"Yeah," he laughed, "me too."
As romantic as the idea of showering with Marcus is to me, I count our first shower together to be one of the more comical experiences in our budding relationship. Anyone who's ever been in a tiny dorm shower stall will probably understand why. Imagine being in a space only a little larger than a phone booth, with another person, trying to wash them while also trying to make it sexy and romantic. At one point, while we were shifting positions to get him under the water, I almost lost my footing. Had he not grabbed hold of me, I would have fallen right over, through the shower curtain and out into the bathroom. And, of course, we didn't want the entire bathroom to hear us so we tried not to make noise. If we hadn't been such good friends, it would have been sort of awkward, I guess. Needless to say, both of us like to laugh about it today!
After our shower, we walked back to my room and dried each other off.
"I am exhausted," I remarked. "You really know how to tire me out."
"Wanna take a nap?" he asked with that innocent, almost naïve tone of his that I loved so much.
"I'd love to. But first, I think we should change the sheets," I said, trying to be cute and coy. "They're a bit, uh, stained."
He laughed.
"Yeah, they are."
So we changed the sheets, closed the blinds over the window, locked the door, and crawled into bed. Lying on our sides in the middle of the afternoon, we spooned with my arm draped over the soft, clean skin of his muscular torso. I buried my nose in his freshly-washed hair, breathing the scent of him in deeply. After a few moments, I could tell by his breathing that he was asleep. Allowing myself to become lost in the feeling of being perfectly and utterly content, I gently kissed his soft, dark hair and lazily drifted off to sleep.