DISCLAIMER: The following story is fiction and does not necessarily represent the sexuality of actors or characters involved. The author has no knowledge of the actors' sexuality and this is purely a work of fiction.
The Day After Tomorrow -- Part 5
By: Rocky
It had been one week since Jake had run out on Tom. The pitter-patter of rain was heard outside, as the afternoon mist coated the glass windows in Jake's apartment. Jake stood staring, stoic in state, waiting for the phone to ring, or Tom to show up at his door, flowers in hand (and condoms in back pocket) ready to whisk him off his feet. Nothing. Jake would look outside for hours. If you can't tell, gazing was quite the habit of Jake's.
"Aww, fuck it. I'm calling." Jake thought to himself.
Jake grabbed the wireless phone from the front pocket of his boxer pants. Licking his lips, he quickly began to dial the digits that Tom had slipped in his jacket pocket during their last encounter. The phone was ringing as Jake's anticipation was growing, and then, he got the voicemail. Tom's voice was nice to hear, even if he was only instructing him to leave it at the tone, and not suck his dick.
Jake didn't feel like leaving a message. Messages always seemed too desperate to him. And plus, who wants to come home to find some guy rambling on his voicemail? Jake needed to get laid, though. He needed physical contact with someone he knew wouldn't try and hurt him. He had the unlucky habit of hooking up with guys that ended up stabbing him in the back. And that was about to change.
He had known of this guy, he was some television star in the 80's. Rumor had it he was a great fuck, a real bottom bitch whose hole would just eat up your cock. He had been around quite a bit, as you don't get the reputation of a great piece of ass for nothing. But he didn't want to "cheat" on Tom. He had just started to get to know him, and this guy would pale in comparison. Oh well, Jake called anyway. Again, he got the voicemail. Doesn't anyone know how to pick up his phone anymore?
"Shit...I guess I'll just have to jerk off or something." Jake thought to himself, as he melted in the comfort of his leather chair.
Jake soon drifted off into a sound sleep. Hours went by, and Jake lie motionless on his chair. He would be asleep until he heard a familiar knocking at his door. He woke up, disheveled from head to toe, and stumbled his way to the door, trying not to appear drunk. He opened the door.
"Hey," the voice from the hallway said.
"Hey man." Jake responded.
The man at the door was Tom. Jake was surprised and excited that maybe he hadn't lost this one. Maybe this one had chances of working out for Jake. Other relationships had failed in the past, but this one was brand new, and would take a lot for Jake to fuck it up. But believe me, he could.
"Look..." Tom tried to get out before being cut off.
"It doesn't matter...It's a long story -- just come here." Jake interrupted.
Tom approached Jake and was assaulted by an oncoming kiss. Jake wrapped his arms around Tom's beefy neck and planted his firm but soft lips on the bigger man's. Tom reacted by immediately filing his fingers through Jake's hair and kissing him back. Both men stood in a locked embrace of lips in the middle of Jake's apartment.
Tom tore at Jake's shirt and lifted it up over his shoulders. Jake's chest was hairy but not too bear-like, perfect for Tom. Jake quickly unbuttoned Tom's plain white dress shirt, revealing Tom's tan and buff torso. Obviously the extra workouts he had put in to fill the Man of Steel's tights had worked out. Jake stood in awe as he envied Tom's body. And that was just his chest.
"Holy shit...you're so hot." Jake tried not to sound like a gawking fan.
"Thanks. You could use some work." Tom replied, grinning with sarcasm.
Jake laughed and continued his tongue twisting action with Tom. He was feeling up Tom's bulging biceps with he was suddenly lifted. Tom had planted him on the kitchen counter.
"Hot," Jake thought to himself, as he had never done it on the kitchen counter.
Jake barely had time to finish that thought before he felt a sudden sensation. He looked down to see his pants unzipped and Tom's held in their place. Holy shit, Tom Welling was sucking him off! And obviously, this was not his first time, as his head bobbed up and down the enthusiasm and skill only seen in the expert cocksuckers. And Jake had had plenty of experts working his tool, but damn Tom was good. He managed his fingers through Tom's curly black locks as his own veiny schlong popped its way out of Tom's mouth. Eager to get it back in, Tom began licking up and down on the shaft, before stopping at the head to blow on it and slightly tease it with his tongue.
"Oh my fucking god..." Jake whispered as Tom continued.
Tom wasn't stopping until he got Jake's juicy load in his mouth. And he would soon be rewarded. Stream after stream of sticky man juice shot up Jake's shaft, and Tom gulped every last drop. A few drops had missed and rolled down the side of Jake's huge member, but Tom quickly made sure they were no longer there. He looked up at Jake, with the same boyish grin that melted hearts across Hollywood and America. Only this time, there was cum hanging down from the side of it.
"Come here," Jake laughed as he said it.
Jake kissed Tom and licked the last remnants of his load off the edge of Tom's mouth. Their eyes met, and Tom leaned down to plant one of Jake's lips.
"Well, I guess I should be going. I got to get to some signing thing." Tom mentioned.
"Aww...you mean I don't get to return the favor?" Jake sounded disappointed.
"Next time, I promise." Tom said.
Tom grabbed his shirt and began to button it up, before fixing his hair in the mirror. He wiped his mouth with a towel and approached the door.
"Thanks, I had fun." Tom continued.
"Yeah, me too. And you were much better than John Stamos would've been." Jake chuckled.
"What?" Tom sounded confused.
And with that, Tom's hand dropped from the doorknob.
THE END
Questions? Comments? Suggestions? E-mail me at niftyrocky@yahoo.com