"Shit!" The cut I'd just given myself on my finger started to leak blood all over my hand. I dropped the knife and headed for the kitchen sink. "Fucking brilliant," I said to myself as I held my finger under the faucet and worked some soap all over the nearly 2-inch long cut I'd managed to give myself as I'd been slicing up some beef for dinner. It's not that I regularly have these kinds of accidents as I go about my day, but I'd certainly been more absent-minded today. I'd already smashed my knee into a rack of weights at the gym, and I'd made a mess with the blender this morning when I was making a shake and somehow didn't realize the lid wasn't on completely. I even managed to get some of the still-quite-lumpy protein mix in my eye. I think I might have outdone myself with this new cut, adding to today's tally--although thankfully it didn't look like I'd need stitches; it wasn't too deep and the bleeding was starting to taper off. I knew why I was so distracted today, I just didn't really want to admit it to myself. That would mean acknowledging that I hadn't actually moved on the way I'd been telling myself I had. I shook my head get a grip Colby!' It had been three years. Three long years putting myself back together, finally being able to look at people in the eye, getting just enough self-esteem to start being able to live again--at least somewhat. Going back to the gym had been difficult, at first I expected to see him there again, just as I had that first time all those years ago. I knew it was never going to happen, he was gone, I was sure I would never see him again in my life. Not after the way he ended things. I knew he was leaving this town, maybe even moving to another country. It didn't matter though, he had broken my spirit so completely that even though I knew it would never happen, I couldn't help the anxiety I felt that I'd see him around somewhere... Except it wasn't all fear. I know it's pathetic, I know I should have hated him for the way he upended our lives like that without any warning, but even as I was worrying I might run into him, I was also almost hoping that I would. I wanted to shout, scream, throw things, cry, and maybe even punch him in his stupid face. But mostly I had wanted him to throw his arms around me, squeeze me tight, and tell me he was sorry; that he loved me and that he would never leave me ever again. Eventually those feelings went away, bit by bit...mostly. I had been drinking a after it happened. I turned to alcohol because even though it didn't make me feel better, it helped me feel nothing. And feeling nothing was better than the pain I felt when I was sober. I'd never known a pain like that before. I'd loved before him, a few times. I'd had my share of breakups. But most of the time I'd been the one to end things, and I'd like to think when I had to tell my soon-to-be exes that I didn't see a future for us, that I did so with much more tact and comfort than the way Jason stated it matter-of-factly to me that cool autumn night. There had been more than a couple of my former boyfriends who became friends in spite of our breakup. And the odd time that there were tears on one side or another, we still managed to hug...if I'm being completely honest, there were more than a few 'breakup fucks'. When there had been sadness, it seemed to be more from the idea that I'd hurt the other person, someone I'd loved. I hated being the bad guy. But I had never felt, ever, the sense of loss that hit me when Jason blindsided me the night he told me he was leaving. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------- We'd had almost a decade together. We had met when I was twenty-three years old. He was a few years older, not quite thirty, but he seemed so worldly, so mature; I remember feeling like I'd never laid eyes on anyone like him before. And I had definitely been laying my eyes on him, it was difficult not to. At the gym, wearing what was probably a double extra-large, long-sleeved tee-shirt that was still about to rip at the seams, sweat dripping down his face as he flexed the biggest biceps I'd ever seen, straining to bring the weights back up one more time. And then again. And, impossibly, considering just how much weight he was actually using, continued to do reps beyond what I could have sworn was humanly possible. I was pretty sure he hadn't seen me, he had his headphones in, and clearly was concentrating on what he was doing. But it wouldn't have been difficult for him to realize that he had a spectator, as I'm pretty sure I didn't move for over a minute while I just stared at him. Eventually I came to my senses, realized that there were other people around who could see that I was just staring at this absolute beast of a man, and realized that if HE noticed me, he might not necessarily appreciate that I was staring. There were very few gay guys at this gym, it's not really very cruisy. It was the kind of place that had seen it's heyday probably well before I was born. It had a few machines, that were often out of service, and a few pieces of cardio equipment. But it was mostly weights, dinged-up, somewhat rusted, and in every single corner of the fairly large space. It was a gym for people who really wanted a workout, and who did not have any desire to sit on the cushioned seat of some expensive piece of equipment just so they could take photos for their Instagram account. This was the kind of place that you would rarely see people talking to each other, and where it was strongly discouraged to be on your phone at all. It was a MAN's gym, and I had started going there just the year before; after I'd started feeling like I had outgrown the more expensive 'soft-core' gyms, in the more trendy part of town where most of the gays went, and where the change rooms were indistinguishable from a bathhouse. I had certainly had my fun getting fucked in the showers a few times, and sucking strangers cocks in the sauna, but the novelty wore off pretty quickly and I wanted somewhere more serious about actually working out. I wasn't a bad looking dude, in fact I was quite handsome for a kid. And I'd put on about 30 pounds of muscle from when I'd first joined a gym after high school. I'd been very popular when I started going out to party at the clubs. But I realized that I liked weightlifting for so much more than the way it made me look: it made me FEEL good. There were few things more satisfying than feeling a workout get easier, and moving up to the next set of weights. I was proud of myself, and I had goals. I was going to push myself harder and go farther than I'd ever thought possible for myself back when I was just a lanky teenager. I had a big torso and chest, round traps, nice wide back, arms were getting bigger and bigger, and legs like tree trunks...but it was my ass that I worked on the most. Part genetics, part luck, and many parts hard work, I had something not a lot of other guys could compete with. I guess that's probably directly related to the part of my persona that makes me a total bottom. I had a really nice dick too, so who knows if I would be still be a bottom if I didn't have the ass that I had? Just a couple hours after I'd seen Jason for the first time, I was in the change room having just come out of the shower and was about to start putting my clothes back on, when I heard a noise from behind me. I turned and nearly bumped into this god-like man--he had been RIGHT behind me; apparently he'd stashed his stuff in the locker directly beside mine. The massive change rooms were a bit like a maze, and you could get to any locker by walking down or around any number of different aisles, and my usual locker was along one of the farthest sections, almost at the back, close to where the hall to the showers led. I remember basically just staring at him in shock, with his towel wrapped around his waist and slung low enough that I could revel in the incredible sight of his naked torso. He was a beast, definitely one of the most muscular guys I'd ever seen in real life, maybe just slightly less sculpted than my trainer Ryan. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------- I snapped back to the present. Thinking of that day all those years ago was not helping. I felt my eyes burn a little, but I wasn't going to let myself break. Every year on this day I turned into a walking catastrophe, and even now 3-years after the fact, something in my brain shut down-probably from the sense of loss-and left me moving around like an emptied out shell. I finished cooking dinner, and I opened up a bottle of Jack. I knew what would happen if I let myself drown my sorrows in alcohol, but I still felt powerless to stop it. I drank until the bottle was almost empty. I had more-or-less had my alcoholism under control for the last year, maybe a bit less. I could have a drink without feeling the need to get drunk enough that I could forget about everything...but tonight I didn't have the power to stop myself; and I knew exactly what was going to happen even as I had been throwing the ice cubes into the glass for that first drink. I hated that even after all this time, thinking about Jason could bring me to this place. I just wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. But I couldn't stand the idea that he still had so much power over me. I took out my phone and sent that inevitable text. This time, I almost hesitated before I hit send'. I knew that in the morning I'd hate myself, and I might not be the only one. But this was why I had started drinking tonight: to give myself the courage I needed to make this happen. I could never do what I was about to do if I was sober. And it was the only thing that seemed like it might make me forget about Jason. Ryan knocked at my door in less than 30 minutes, looking as incredible as ever. He was in his off-season, but his massive body still had incredible definition and I found it even more sexy than when he was cutting before his competitions. He came inside, smiling at me, but his smile drooped a little when he saw how drunk I had gotten. I didn't care, I knew that he was hopelessly in love with me, and would fuck me when I offered myself to him, because I knew he would do anything if it might lead to more than just sex. I know how fucked up that is. I know that it makes me a terrible person. And I'm even aware enough of it that I put effort into making sure something like this doesn't happen, that I don't give him any reason to think that I might actually love him back the same way...except this day--just like last year. I pulled off my shirt and threw it onto the couch, as I led him towards my bedroom. I didn't say a word, and I could tell he felt awkward--but he followed me just the same, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. When we were standing in front of my bed, I turned around so we were facing each other, though I had to look up to meet his eyes, he was a good four inches taller than me. I put my hands on his belt buckle, undoing it as I looked deep into his beautiful brown eyes. I pulled his jeans down and he silently lifted first one leg, and then the other, stepping out of them and now standing in front of me in just his underwear. I hooked my thumbs under the waistband of my jeans, pulling them and my underwear down in one quick movement, and sat down on my bed now completely naked. I was still looking right into his eyes, and there was no denying the hunger Ryan had in his eyes for me. He was eager, bordering on desperate. He also had a deep sadness in his look as he stood over me, knowing that the only thing that motivated me to have him share my bed was the alcohol. I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me. Ryan has been one of my best friends for so many years, even way before I had met Jason. He had been my trainer, but it didn't take long before we were hanging out all the time outside the gym. I remember the night he made it clear that he had feelings for me. It was just a few months after Jason had ended things with me, just before I had sunk into alcoholism, and slipped into complete depression. I had never had any idea that he had fallen in love with me. I didn't even know he wasn't straight, I had met his previous girlfriend on many occasions. But at that moment, I was still so distraught at having lost Jason, the shock of finding out one of my best friends was in love with me didn't really seem to hit me. I remember he told me, but it might as well have gone in one of my ears and right out the other. I mean, I understood what he was saying, but I couldn't really wrap my mind around it because I was too self-involved to process it, and the only thing on my mind was Jason. I responded by telling him that I loved him as a friend, and somehow he managed not to let it interfere with our friendship. He had not been all that happy about my relationship with Jason, at least at first. I knew he couldn't understand what it was I had seen in Jason. On a purely physical level, Ryan was actually even more perfect. His body was sculpted for winning medals on podiums. He spent nearly all his free time in the gym. And he wasn't vapid either, he had studied bio-chem at university, and worked in pharmacology. He had traveled a lot when he was younger, he could speak German and Italian in addition to English, and he was also really kind. I had met him in the gym when he had seen me training, not even a month after I had signed up, and came over to correct my posture. He had been so intimidating, I thought he was coming over to tell me off about something. But he had smiled, introduced himself, and asked me what I was looking to work out. He adjusted my movements and told me I could always ask him for advice whenever I saw him. I hired him as a trainer the following week, he had told me that he wasn't really looking for clients anymore--he had mostly stopped training other guys when he started focusing on competitions, but he made an exception for me. He was dating a beautiful woman named Erika at the time, and it never crossed my mind for a second that this gorgeous guy would ever have a thing for me (of all people!) But over the next couple of years he and I became very close, and he became extremely protective of me. I never knew if that was a factor in his breakup with Erika, he didn't like to talk about it. He just said they had grown apart, and he was happier on his own. They had been together for 9 years, ever since his 20th birthday. He told me he was going to enjoy just taking some time for himself. The first time he met Jason, I was scared he was going to throw a punch. Jason had gone to get himself a drink, and left me and Ryan talking for a moment. I asked Ryan what he thought of this new, incredible man in my life, and he faltered for a moment before he said something about just wanting me to be happy. But Jason had returned a moment later, drink in hand, and walked up behind me, putting his arms around me protectively and pulling me back against him. I swear I saw Ryan's face darken, contorted with rage. I could see his fist tighten, and I looked up at him in shock. He noticed my fear and suddenly it was like he came out of a trance--his smile reappeared, and he relaxed his body. Jason hadn't even noticed a thing, but I was terrified that Ryan would always have a problem with Jason. Ryan was a true gentleman though; I had no idea how deeply in love with me he was until that night several months after Jason left me. It was probably a couple of years into our relationship before he had finally come to accept that Jason and I were together for the long-haul. I don't know how he had managed to put our friendship first, and make me feel so supported when I would talk to him about how happy this other man made me. He was selfless to a fault. After their first meeting, I had pulled him aside and asked him about what I had seen. He told me he just didn't want to see me get hurt. I remember he said that he was good at reading people, and he was certain that Jason was bad for me. But I told him that I had fallen for Jason so completely, that even if he was going to hurt me it was too late to do anything about it anyway. I asked him to support me, to support us, because he knew that he and Kevin were the only family that I had left, and I needed him to accept that Jason loved me and was going to take care of me. I never knew that Ryan spent that entire first year of my relationship with Jason hating him, ready to tear him limb from limb if he hurt me. He didn't tell me that part until after Jason and I were over. But I would never have guessed that it was mostly due to the fact that Ryan was in love with me. And here I am, fully knowing that Ryan would take a bullet before letting me get hurt, dangling myself in front of him completely aware that he is powerless when it comes to me-even if I never reciprocate his feelings. But the Jack Daniel's had done its job. I was numb to those facts, and all that mattered was that I needed to feel strong arms around me, a muscular chest pressed against my back, a man burying his load deep inside me. I pulled my legs up onto the bed and turned to my side, making sure that my ass was facing him. I parted my legs a little bit and arched my back. It was slutty, even for me. But it had the effect I needed it to. I could see Ryan's erection pushing out against his underwear. He quickly pulled them off and his massive cock jumped back up like a spring, smacking against his tight abs, reaching all the way up past his navel. He got on the bed and immediately started kissing me. I closed my eyes, and let the whisky do its job, bringing my imagination to work and allowing myself to believe it was Jason. Ryan's soft, pink lips kissed me all over my neck, slowly moving their way from one side to the other, kissing down to the top of my chest, and up to my cheek. After several minutes of long, slow kissing on every part of my neck, he kissed me right on the lips, parting my own with his tongue. I opened my mouth to receive his kiss, but kept my eyes clamped shut. Jason. This is Jason. And nothing else matters, not the breakup, not the years that have gone by, not the fact that he left me without ever so much as saying another word to me. He was back, and he was kissing me deeply and with so much passion. I moaned as Ryan started kissing me with more passion, massaging my lips and biting them gently, and I used the piercing running through my tongue to play with his tongue. His hand started roaming its way down my muscular abdomen. He kissed me with so much desire. He stroked his hand up and down the inside of my thigh as he moved his body on top of mine. I spread my legs, and helped bring him in-between them, as I felt his cock leaking precum everywhere its velvety head touched my skin. And still I kept my eyes shut. His passionate kissing was heating me up. Or maybe it was the bottle of Jack. He broke off the kiss for a moment, as he positioned himself at my hole, bringing my ankles to rest on his broad shoulders. I heard him spit, and felt his fingers entering me and getting me slick and open. I heard him working the spit all over his cock, and knew it was time. I pushed myself open for him in anticipation. He leaned back down and started kissing me again, slowly, as he started sliding his cock inside me. I moaned through the kiss, he was so big. He definitely had the largest cock that had ever fucked me. It was longer, and thicker than any other guy I'd ever seen. But it was barely a few seconds before I felt his balls press against my ass, and knew he was all the way inside me. I could feel that my pussy was stretched around his giant cock, I could only imagine how gaping my hole would be after he was finished with me, but even as stuffed and full as I was with his cock, I was so numb from drinking that I didn't really feel it. He started thrusting in and out of me, and I made passionate moans of excitement and pleasure that I didn't really feel. I just wanted him to keep going, to feel like I was really into it. He kissed me as he fucked me, and there was no way to miss how much love he put into every touch of my body. He made love to me, his grunts and moans were so real, so deep, I knew this was heaven for him. I also knew that deep in his heart, he knew that I did not love him back, at least not the way he desired. He was trying, desperately, to show me how much he loved me. I hope he didn't know that the entire time I kept my eyes shut so tight because I knew that if I saw his face instead of Jason's, I would break down completely. I could feel tears ready to burst from my eyes, and I wrapped my arms as far around Ryan's incredibly muscular back as I could, pulling him down on top of me, so his chest was resting on mine, and his face on the pillow next to mine. I didn't want him to see my eyes. He started thrusting more powerfully, pulling his cock almost all the way out of me before sliding all the way back in and making my pussy clamp down around his shaft. He moaned in pleasure every time the innermost rings of muscles inside me went to work squeezing his cock. He was fucking me harder and harder, kissing my neck, biting it gently. My pussy was dripping wet now, a mix of his spit, his precum, and its own juice. I had needed cock so badly that it was working overtime to accommodate his massive shaft. I matched my moans to his, feeling like shit that I had the most gorgeous man making the most incredible love to me and knowing it meant nothing to me. It got to be too much, and my eyes finally lost their battle and I felt the flood of tears starting to stream down my face as Ryan moaned louder than ever, practically yelling as his cock erupted deep inside of me. I could feel it throb and pulse as he emptied his load in my pussy. Five times, six times, seven times...it kept going. He was still moaning and trying to catch his breath as I was desperately trying to stop crying. His body crashed down onto mine as the last of his strength was sapped from him, his cock still shooting volleys of his cum deep inside me. I didn't even feel his erection go down, he seemed to be just as hard and stretching me just as much as ever. He wrapped his arms around me, kissed my ear and whispered "I love you so fucking much Colby..." as he drifted off to sleep, still dripping his DNA into my pussy. I just laid there, feeling his heartbeat through his cock coming from inside my own body as it slowed down, and he started to snore lightly. The tears coming from my eyes had slowed down too, but I could feel them still burning in my eyes, dripping down my cheeks and off my chin at the same time as I was feeling his cum starting to drip from my lips and down my legs. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------- I don't know how I hadn't heard him coming, and I definitely would have noticed him in the showers. I could just imagine that when he walked, the floor must actually rumble from the strength of his steps--but unbelievably it wasn't until he was standing with his leg nearly touching my ass that I'd heard him as he lifted his key to his lock. I did my best not to stare again, although I'm not sure how well I succeeded, but he turned his head, looked at me he smiled. "How's it going?" "Fine..." I stammered, willing my brain to connect its neurons faster. I couldn't think of a single thing to say, I felt like I was having a difficult enough time just breathing normally around him. I opened my mouth to say more, to try to repeat the bro-like small-talk that usually came to me when someone at the gym would engage me, almost always just to ask if I was done with the space or the equipment I was using. The cogs were turning so slowly I swear that I must have come off like I had some sort of mental disability. After what seemed like an eternity I managed to add "how about you?" Perfect. Fucking Perfect. I managed the sum total of three words and it only took what must have been several hours. But either because he didn't notice, or because he was trying to be polite, he smiled again, "I had a pretty good workout, but it should have been better. I think I lost my concentration partway through." His smile lingered, and I could have sworn I saw his eyes trace their way down my back, to my ass, where they rested for a few seconds. "From the looks of it, you clearly have incredible concentration when it comes to your workouts..." I couldn't believe it. HE was complimenting ME? I'd been bullied a lot growing up, and had had a really rough time when I first moved to town. I had been very skinny, and awkward looking, and never had much confidence. It had left me with all kinds of body issues. I'd been building myself up for a long time now, and of course I could see the results, but I don't think I ever saw myself the way others seemed to, as though I was somebody to be noticed. I smiled, a timid half-smile. Just because he gave you a compliment doesn't mean he's into you, I said to myself. I thought his eyes did their tour of my entire body, but that could very easily have been in my head--wishful thinking as it were...but I couldn't help but hope that I might actually have a chance with this guy, even though it was nearly impossible that a man like this could be gay. "Thank you, I noticed you working out earlier, and that's quite a compliment from someone like you!" Oh lord, I hadn't meant to say that last part. I was testing the waters when I let him know I'd 'noticed' him, but why the fuck did I have to add something so self-deprecating. Self-esteem...it sure sounds nice! Of course I knew he was out of my league, but I hated when I let my self-consciousness take over and say stupid shit like that. He smiled again, his face was perfect. He had the kind of facial hair that any man wished they could have, it grew in evenly and followed the contours of his face like it was photoshopped, but it was short and clearly had been trimmed recently to keep it that way. I'm six foot nothing, and he was just a bit more than an inch taller than me, and the towel that was wrapped around his waist may have covered his crotch, but the outline of what was underneath left nothing to the imagination and nearly made me fall over. I laid a hand on the closed door of one of the lockers next to mine to steady myself, praying he didn't notice that I'd just spent another long moment soaking in the view of his incredible, nearly-naked body. "My name is Jason, I'm new in town so I don't have many yet--but my friends call me Jay." He stuck out his hand. I'd been using my right hand to hold my towel closed, and my left was still on the door of the locker. There must have been some uncontrollable forces at work, allowing me to move in only the most awkward possible way--I fumbled a bit as I moved my left hand from the locker door I'd been leaning against, and used it to grab my towel, while trying to let go of the towel with my right hand, and move it up to shake his hand. I must have looked spastic, and I was cringing on the inside. But he grasped my hand firmly and shook it. His hand was warm, and he had callouses along his palm. I couldn't help but notice how big it felt, and how strong. I definitely held on too long, but I didn't want to let go. Even just touching my hand, I felt a thrill I had never felt before. He kept my hand in his grip too, but then he said "So...are you going to tell me your name, or should I just try to commit your hand to memory?"
I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks as I blushed a deep red; he wasn't holding onto my hand because he wanted to keep it in his, he was waiting for me to introduce myself like a normal person. "Er, right. Colby," I said, "Colby Harrison." I wanted desperately to keep the conversation going, if for no other reason than to be able to continue standing so close to him, and somehow I managed to get a little bit of a grip on myself and stop fantasizing about getting down on my knees in front of him right then and there. "So where are you from, you said you're new in town?" We each finally lowered our hands from our handshake after what felt like an eternity. "Austin. I work in the oil industry, and my company has an office here on the logistics side. That's the part that I actually work in, so please don't hate me for drilling or anything, I just ended up in oil because that's where most of the logistics jobs were headed." I finally noticed that he did have an accent, a bit of a Southern drawl. I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed it before. I also couldn't believe that given how fucking sexy his accent was on top of everything else, I hadn't already just offered my ass up to him and asked him to get inside me. "Wow, you're a long way from home. Did you move here by yourself?" I was trying to find the best way to poke around his relationship details and find out if he had a girlfriend or a wife, or a boyfriend if the impossibly unrealistic idea that he might be gay was actually true. "Just me and my dog, Dax. He's a German shepherd, and I think Texas might have been a little too hot for him, he seems much happier here. I'm not so lucky, I don't know how you Northerners do it, it's already barely in the 50s and it's only October!" "Well," I said, "it helps if you have someone to keep you warm at night." It had come out before I'd had a chance to think about it. He shot me a strange look and frowned a bit, but he didn't say anything. "I'm kidding!" I said hastily, and shot him my best straight-gym-bro grin. He nodded his head, but he didn't add anything more. I was starting to feel anxiety coming from my stomach. In one brief moment, I forgot what was happening, and brought my hand to my forehead to wipe away the bead of sweat that was starting to form. I'd completely lost track of the fact that I'd been using my hand to keep the towel closed, and as i brought my hand up to my face, one end of the towel was pulled loose, and the whole thing fell back completely, revealing my entirely naked body to Jason. It was all I could do not to throw up from panic. I shut my eyes, wishing I could turn invisible, and took a deep breath. When I opened them up again, I saw him looking at me, and this time there was no room for misinterpretation: his eyes were locked on my ass. "That's the second time today that you've made me lose concentration." I nearly passed out. I was sure that I was hearing things. There was no way I'd just heard him say that to me. I looked into his eyes, noticing for the first time their incredible mix of green and amber--the most intense and incredible hazel eyes I'd ever seen. And it was during this moment, while I was gazing into those beautiful eyes, that he smiled. He reached his hand out and placed it on my hip, pushing me to turn farther to my side, revealing my entire ass to his gaze. I turned obediently, I would have allowed him to do anything he wanted at that moment. But after a few seconds I became distinctly aware that we were still just standing in the open in the change rooms, where anyone could walk by. It wasn't exactly peak workout time, it was nearly nine-thirty, but there had still been quite a few people in the midst of their workouts when I had headed up to take my shower. I moved my hand tentatively towards his stomach, and when he didn't move, I placed it on his rock hard, abs. They were furry with a coating of very light, very short hairs, and it felt even more incredible than it looked. "Jason," I mumbled, "I can't believe I'm going to do this, but we need to get changed before anyone comes up. I don't think people would be cool with this." He took his hand off my hip, placed it on top of my hand, and pulled them up to his chest together. He placed them almost in the middle, just a little bit to the left, and I had to fight my instincts not to immediately start playing with his nipple--which had a big, sexy, silver horseshoe piercing running through it. His chest was as hard as his abs, and had a slightly heavier coating of the same light coloured hairs. But he kept his hand on top of mine, pressing down just slightly, and he said "feel that? You have the most incredible ass I've ever seen. Feel my heart racing? That's what you're doing to me." And I could. I felt the throbbing of his heart beat through his incredible chest. And even knowing the risk of being caught, I took a step towards him and I kissed him right next to my hand. Just a gentle, small kiss. But I felt so much passion, so much heat, just allowing my lips to meet his skin, there was a fire between us; more heat than I had ever felt before. He was looking down at me, and he took his other hand and placed it on my cheek, pulling my chin gently up towards his face. "You're beautiful Colby. I've never seen a kid like you before. You are gorgeous." I smiled weakly, and finally pulled myself away from him, although it took every last bit of energy I had. I started putting my clothes back on, not too quickly, but not slowly either. I was finally daring to let myself believe that we could carry this on elsewhere, with more privacy. I noticed him continue to watch me as I got changed, and then finally start to pull on his own clothes. When he lowered his towel to get on his underwear, I succumbed to a moment of weakness and wrapped my hand around his shaft. Yet another massive horseshoe piercing was running through his cockhead. He wasn't completely hard, but he had definitely started getting there. I gave it a few squeezes, and pulled back on the skin to reveal the full mushroom at the head of his cock, and to really get a bearing on just how big that piercing was. It was the most beautiful sight I may have ever seen. The entire thing was probably close to a foot long, and it was so thick I wasn't able to wrap my hand around it, not even close. He closed his eyes and groaned softly in pleasure. I took my hand off the shaft and brought it to the tip of his head, where some precum had just started to appear, thick and so god-damn tantalizing. I slid my finger across his head, playing with his stud, and gathered up as much of the precum as I could, there was already so much of it. He had his eyes opened again now, just a bit, but I could see him watch me as I brought my fingers to my lips and slowly slid my tongue and its metal stud around, savouring every single drop. It tasted incredible; musky, masculine, sweet, salty, and like pure MAN. "Fuck..." he said slowly, "that was the hottest thing I've ever seen." He leaned right over and kissed me. He didn't part my lips, I had a feeling it was because I had his precum still on my tongue--my instincts told me that it was my place to receive his loads, that he was a real MAN and would not ever have any interest in cum, his or mine. But that was more than okay with me. He kissed me with passion, pressing his lips to mine, and I could feel his desire just from his lips. For the second time, I mustered my strength and pulled away from him. "I know I started that, but I'm not sure how you could hold it against me. I've only ever dreamt of being with a Man like you." I took a step back again, and put my baseball cap and leather jacket on. I gathered the rest of my stuff in my bag and then sat down on the bench in the middle of the aisle waiting for him. He looked at me for only the briefest moment before he went back to getting changed, starting by pulling on a pair of tight red briefs. They strained to cover his package, but they clung to his hips so perfectly he looked almost as good in them as he looked out of them. I continued watching and he got the rest of his clothes and his boots on. "So where do you live?" -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------- Ryan rolled over in his sleep, ending up behind me and pulling me tight against his chest with his arms around me. I had finally stopped crying and my breathing had evened out. The Jack had worn off a little, but not much. I closed my eyes again and let myself believe I was back in Jason's arms. I fell asleep pulling Ryan's arms against me tight, pressing my back into his chest as much as possible, and trying to keep as much of his cum inside my pussy as I could. When I finally fell asleep, I had managed to convince myself that the last few years were just a bad dream, and that I was snuggled up with Jason right now, and that everything was back to how it should be. I woke up with a splitting headache, and the worst dry mouth I could ever remember having. I opened my eyes and saw Ryan getting dressed just next to the bed, pulling on his jeans. I grunted in pain as my headache throbbed, and Ryan looked over at me. He leaned down and kissed me gently on my cheek, and then my forehead. "Hey handsome, go back to sleep! I have to go to the gym, it's almost 7. I need to get my workout in before I head to work. Go back to sleep, I'll text you later!" He kissed me again, and I tried to nod to show I understood, but all I could manage was a slight grimace. It was dark in my bedroom, the sun had probably not even started to rise yet, so I know that he probably couldn't see my face very well. But I could tell from his kisses that he wanted to say more, and was holding back. I was so thankful he was leaving, I knew that the moment he left I would break down completely. What I did was awful. There was nothing I could do, or say to make it better. He was in love with me, and I...just wasn't. I used him, as if his feelings didn't matter. He was practically family to me, I definitely loved him--but he didn't have my heart. And I had to question what kind of person could do what I had done to someone that they "love". A broken person, clearly. I reached out and grabbed his hand, and pulled him to me, I could just make out his surprise as he almost fell on top of me. I pulled his arm around me, "I love you too Ryan, I don't know what I would do without you. You're my rock. You and Kevin are the only good things in my life!" I could see him smile, even through the darkness. I was hoping he would read between the lines, and understand that I was telling him that I needed him as my friend, but I also realized that in my hungover state I was probably sending mixed signals. He kissed me again, this time on my lips, and he lingered there for a minute making it very clear that my message did not at all make it through to him. "Go back to sleep babe, I'll stop by before you leave for the club. I don't want to be apart from you, but you definitely look like you need more sleep, and I can't be late for the gym." I grumbled something back, desperate to make him understand, and also so fucking sorry for playing on his feelings...but the spectre of last night's drinking reared its ugly head and I couldn't make any actual words come out. He chuckled, "you're so fucking beautiful baby, even first thing in the morning. I want to wake up with you every single day." He kissed me one last time, and walked out of my bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him. It took me a long time to get out of bed after I heard my front door open and close, but I felt like a sack of shit and I needed many glasses of water and some Aspirin real bad. When I finally stumbled back into bed, it took me only a moment to fall back asleep, even knowing that the next time I woke up, I was going to be in an entirely different kind of pain
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------- Jason had asked where I live, and there was excitement in that question...but, and I'm not sure why, it also made me even more nervous when he asked. We were headed down the stairs from the change rooms, our bags slung over our shoulders. I had so many thoughts running through my head. As we pushed our way through the big double-doors to outside, and headed towards the parking lot, I couldn't help but stress. Obviously I wanted him, but I was also terrified that we might get together and then I'd never see him again after that. "I'm on the north end, past the industrial park. Lafayette Street, you know it?" "Even farther north?" he joked, "you DEFINITELY need someone to keep you warm at night!" But then he got serious, "listen, Colby...I don't like to stir up drama, and I know how guys can be. Are you with someone already? I won't judge you for anything that just happened, it was heat of the moment. But I need to know if you have some other guy waiting for you at home." The way he said it, even though it sounded so defeated, actually made me relax a bit. He didn't sound like he was just looking to fuck me and forget me. Why would he care if I was in a relationship if sex was all he wanted? We were still walking towards the first row of cars and I reached out my arm in front of him, and he stopped. Just as he had earlier, I put my hand on his hip and I pushed lightly until he started to turn. I brought him to face me, so he could see in my eyes. "I don't know if this is going to make me sound pathetic, but my last relationship ended almost a year ago. I used to go out to clubs and parties, and have gone on dates and hookups, but all of that stopped too. I realized awhile ago that what I wanted, what I was waiting for, I was never going to get from one of those guys on the hookup apps or by cruising at the club. I'm almost ashamed at how long it's been since I've had sex...there is definitely nobody in my life that way." I wanted to say more. I wanted to add that I HOPED that that would change. That maybe we had just 'found' each other. I would have meant it all too, that's the impact he had on me right from that first moment. But I was scared to push him away by showing all my cards. And hopefully there would be time enough for all of that. The lights from the gym shined brightly into the parking lot, the dark autumn night was cloudy, although not rainy. Jason pulled my arm from in front of him and placed it around his shoulders, as he slid his hand around my waist. He pulled me closer towards him, this time less gently, and he kissed me for the second time that night. And this time, he kissed me so deeply, gliding his tongue between my lips and massaging mine with it; I could tell he loved that mine was pierced, he kept sliding the tip into his mouth. I moaned softly, and my other arm wrapped around him to help pull myself even closer to him. We kissed for what felt like hours, but eventually he broke away from me, placing his face right next to mine, and whispered "I have never met anyone who made me feel this way before." I looked into his eyes, and I saw the sincerity behind them. He meant every word, and I knew it with every part of me. I kissed him on the cheek very quickly, just for a second "where's your car babe? What do you drive?" I hoped he wasn't going to say anything about me calling him 'babe'. We had met, officially, barely twenty minutes ago. It was probably a little fast to call him by a pet name, and I was a little nervous he'd think I was ridiculous. It was somewhat of a habit, most of my friends and I called each other 'babe', it was almost helpful in extended circles because sometimes it was difficult to remember the names of every single acquaintance, especially if you'd met at some noisy club while we were all fucked up on whatever drugs we were partying with that night. But I also really wanted him to be my babe, even if that WAS ridiculous. "I'm a little farther, there were no good spots when I got here. And I'm from Texas, so of course you should know already that I drive a truck. Babe." He left a deliberate pause at the end before he said that last word, so I couldn't tell if he was teasing me. But he grabbed my hand and squeezed it, and I relaxed again. "What about you, you must have driven here too?" "I rode actually," I said quietly, "I have a Honda, 400 cc engine." He whistled. "Now I understand the jacket, it didn't look like it was warm enough for fall up here...so don't tell me, the red monster I saw at the front of the lot? That one's yours?" I nodded, smiling happily. I'd saved up money for ages to buy that bike, it was something I truly loved. Of course I always wanted a Harley, but for now the Honda was more than good enough, 400 cc's was more than powerful enough. And, more importantly, it was mine. I didn't own a lot of things, but that bike was one of my most prized possessions. He pulled on my hand a little to get me to turn down the next row of cars, and I spotted a dark blue Ram pickup truck, with Texas plates. I wasn't really a truck kind of guy, but there was something fucking sexy about that truck, and the fact that it was his. It just seemed to match his personality so perfectly. He pulled out his keys and unlocked the doors, he turned to me and gave me a kiss as quick as the one I'd given him last, "can I give you a ride home?" I smiled, I was so taken by him, and on top of everything else he seemed to be quite the gentleman. "Jason, do you really think there was any chance I'd say 'no'?" He seemed so happy with my response, but then he said "but what about your bike? You're just going to leave it here tonight?" "It's okay, I have the day off tomorrow so I can come get it at any time. Plus there's no way I'm not getting in this truck with you." He grinned, and walked around to the other side of the truck as I opened the door and climbed in. He started the engine, and as the console lit up he started tapping buttons to bring up his phone's map application. "Here, enter your address." I slid closer to him to have better access to the console, and typed it in. I brought up the directions which were pretty straightforward, although it wasn't exactly close. "Okay, now I'm trusting you to be dj, play something you like. Babe." He did it again, but this time it sounded like he was eager to say it. I said nothing, but pulled open his Spotify app and put on some music I saved for when techno didn't seem appropriate. It was from the soundtrack to a tv-show I loved, and everyone I'd ever shared the music with had loved it. It was maybe a little dark, and the vocals were kind of slow. But the melody was beautiful, and it was soft and clear. It seemed so perfect for a night like this one. I could tell he was listening intently, even as he followed the directions of the gps and got onto the road, neither of us saying anything. I wanted to impress him with my taste in music, but more than that, I genuinely was hoping he would like it and it would be another thing we shared. I wanted to point out the lyrics, the guy was singing about how when we're young we take things too seriously, everything seems like it's life-or-death. But then all of a sudden, you're just a little bit older and it IS life-or-death. Either me, or you, one of us will leave the other. If not in love, then in death. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------- I looked at my phone, it was almost 3 in the afternoon. I don't even know what time Ryan and I had gone to bed, but I'd been sleeping for more than 12-hours. Thankfully the glasses of water I'd forced myself to drink when I'd gotten up after he left for the gym had done their job, and I'm sure the Aspirin didn't hurt. I still didn't feel great, but I no longer had a headache and my body felt somewhat less destroyed. I had a few texts that I'd received while I was sleeping. One was from Kevin, asking if I could catsit for him while he was going to be away next week, and asking if I wanted to grab dinner on Sunday before he left. The other two were from Ryan--first was a picture of him at the gym, presumably from his workout earlier that day, which he'd captioned as "had the BEST workout ever this morning, thank you for everything baby!" And the second was from an hour or so later asking me to make sure I drink lots of water and text him when I was up. He finished off by saying he couldn't wait to see me later. My heart sank. I honestly didn't understand WHY I couldn't fall for Ryan. I could sort of wrap my mind around the fact that it was something about our "chemistry", but in practice, he was so passionate, so loving, and he was so into me that I couldn't really figure out how we couldn't have chemistry. When it came to getting down, he knew ALL the right things to do, and did them perfectly and with incredible ease. The sex we had last night was, by all standards, mind-blowing. Or it should have been anyway. I know on his side all the feelings were genuine. Part of me thought that it might just be because we'd been friends for so long at this point, at that I considered him part of my true family, that maybe I just wasn't able to flip the switch that allowed things to become romantic. I also assumed that I wouldn't be able to fall for anyone right now, no matter how perfect they might actually be for me. I allowed myself a moment to wonder what might have happened if Ryan had opened up to me about his feelings for me before I'd ever met Jason. I know I found him gorgeous, or even more than that. Real people don't look as perfect as him, especially if you're like me, and your type is bodybuilders. He was just so muscular, but also he had a brain and he wasn't a douche. That combination alone should have made me weak in the knees...like the effect Jason had on me. Instead, I had to resort to getting nearly blackout drunk and fantasizing that he was someone else in order to sleep with him. If I ever lost Ryan, I would be inconsolable. If it happened because of me, because of something I did or if it was something that I caused, I could actually imagine killing myself. I need him more than I can put into words. He was practically my caretaker after Jason left. I wouldn't eat, I wouldn't shower, I wouldn't even get up. He spent almost 24-hours a day with me, wouldn't leave my side. He called in to work, and skipped going to the gym. He refused to let me fall. He would prepare food for me, and then spoon-feed it to me to make sure that I ate. He would undress me and bring me into the shower with him, to make sure I got cleaned up. He slept in my bed every night, with both of us wearing pyjamas, to make sure I didn't get the wrong impression but also to make sure that I DID sleep. He would wake up to find me curled up in a ball by his side, sometimes crying and sometimes after I'd cried myself out. He held me, gently, and made sure I knew that I would always have him by my side. It was because of him that I was able to go back to the world of the living. It was because of him that I was able to go back to the gym again. It was because of him that I didn't literally die of heartbreak when Jason left me...and this is how I repaid him. When I fell off the wagon a few months after Jason left me, and I started drinking myself nearly to death each night, he was the one who got me to fight for my life. It took a long time, and by then he couldn't take any more time off work to be with me all the time, but he still found ways to make sure that I got out of that dark place I'd fallen into. Looking back, I can't believe the parade of guys I'd gone home with when Ryan would take me out to make sure I wasn't sitting at home wallowing. By that point he had already told me he was in love with me, but I was so deep into alcoholism and so callous to anyone's feelings but my own that I never gave it a second thought. We'd be at some club, and some sorta-alright looking dude would hit on me, and I'd bring him to the bathroom and suck his cock. The guy would invite me back to his place, and I'd walk right by Ryan with this guy's hands on my ass without even sparing him a second glance. I just wanted to feel love, and for whatever reason, it couldn't be from Ryan. I don't know how he stuck it out with me. There were so many days where I'd wake up, not even sure where I was, or who's bed I was in. I'd call Ryan to pick me up and he'd come, no questions asked. I was terrified I'd push him away, and yet powerless to stop myself from repeating the cycle. He just held my hand, told me it'd get better, and made sure I took some sort of care of myself. I am so thankful that I pulled myself away from the alcohol and the constant line-up of guys hanging around for their turn to fuck me, and that I seem to have managed to do it before I lost Ryan. I remember, just after the first anniversary of the night that Jason left me, thinking that I can't do this anymore. I can't do it to myself, I can't do it to the people who depend on me at work, and I can't do it to Kevin and Ryan. I stayed at Kevin's place for the next month, where he could keep a close eye one me, and where I wouldn't feel any awkwardness since he had been the one who had broken up with me and we had always been amicable after that. Ryan came over every night to hang out with us, and check on me. And on the nights that Kevin was away on business and I was cat sitting, Ryan would stay the night. But like the gentleman he was, he always kept his pyjamas on, and his hands only crossed to my side if I was the one to pull them around me. I sent a text to Kevin "hey babe, yeah for sure I can catsit for you, and dinner sounds amazing. I have to tell you about the horrible thing I did...although, you know what day it was yesterday, and you practically know me better than I know myself, so I have a feeling you can figure it out for yourself..." It was a few minutes before I sent a response to Ryan. I tried thinking of every possible way I could apologize for what had happened, that didn't risk losing him completely. In the end, I didn't feel like there was anything I could say that could be direct about it, and hoped another read-between-the-lines message might be better. "Hey handsome, I'm so glad you had such a great workout this morning, and I'm even more glad you came over last night. I wish I hadn't drank so much, but it was just...well, you know what yesterday was. Definitely not going to let that become a thing though...I mean, not again. Just wanted to let you know that you and Kevin are my family, and I'd be lost without either of you..." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------- That car ride back to my place was one of the most incredible moments in my life. There was so much anticipation and excitement, but I was also fucking nervous. Here was the most gorgeous guy I'd ever met, and he ASKED me if he could bring me home! I fidgeted with my phone and played with the tracks in my playlist. I kept finding the right music for the moment just when a track was about to end. Soulful, dark, beautiful, haunting; it was somewhat depressing music, but the point wasn't to be depressing; it was to make you realize that when someone comes into your life, you never know how long or how brief your time together will be, so whatever happens make the most of it. And that was exactly what I was hoping Jason would see from me. That I wanted to make the most of having met him, and that meant not just having a cliched one-night-stand together. The song ended and the next one played, it was from the same soundtrack, so it had a similar vibe, but was more instrumental and had barely any vocals. "Did I pass your test, am I good enough to be your dj?" He looked at me thoughtfully, without saying anything. He reached out his right hand and took mine in his. He brought it up to his lips and he kissed the back of my hand, holding it to his lips for several moments. "It's beautiful," he said, "it reminds me of this show I used to watch a few years ago." I didn't say anything, I just sat there, smiling. So happy in my own thoughts that I didn't feel the need to say anything. I just enjoyed being there with him, in his car, listening to this music, and feeling him kiss my hand. I leaned over and rested my head on his shoulder, I worried for only the briefest millisecond that he might not feel comfortable with that, but he immediately rearranged himself in his seat to make himself more available for me to rest against. And he continued to hold my hand. The drive to my place was only about fifteen minutes, and it ended way too soon. I wanted to just sit like that, with my head resting on his shoulder, for eternity. But as he turned down my street I knew that I'd need to snap out of it soon enough. "The next driveway down is me, the small brick house." I was all of a sudden very aware of just how modest my home was. For being still just twenty-three and already having a place to myself, no roommates, I was proud of myself. But with rents the way they were, it wasn't much, and I was hoping he wouldn't be turned off by how simple my life was. "You live here all by yourself?" I nodded, "I just rent it though," I said. I was hoping for some sign of approval, that he was impressed, or at the very least, that his expectations weren't dashed. But he had already opened his door and started to climb out of the truck, so I turned to my door and did the same. We each made our way around his truck, meeting in front of it. I looked up at him, looking straight into his beautiful hazel eyes. I truly couldn't get over how handsome he was. He looked down at me, and lowered his face to mine, gently brushing his lips along my neck, kissing me lightly again and again along the contours of my neck. I sighed gently, I couldn't believe this was happening. But I had to tell him something, and I was scared as fuck that it would be the end of this fantasy. "Babe." I waited for him to bring his face back in front of mine so we could look at each other properly. He moved his hands down to my waist again and said "tell me Colby. Whatever it is you're nervous to tell me, just say it." I took a deep breath. "In my life....I've never met anyone who was like you. Who made me feel like you have. Who had me so instantly captive the way you have." I took another deep breath and pushed on "I don't know how you'll feel about this, and so that's why I'm a little nervous. I am dying to invite you in...but I can't help but worry that if we sleep together tonight, I'll wake up in the morning with you gone, and I'll never see you again." He gave me an intense look, I couldn't tell what he was thinking. "Colby..." but he just trailed off. It looked like he was trying to find the right words. I think he saw me starting to panic because he sort of realized that I was waiting for him to finish and he broke a smile "sorry, I was looking for the perfect way to tell you that you're crazy for thinking I'd not be cooking us breakfast in the morning, but I got distracted looking at you. Fuck you're so sexy baby!" He pulled me towards him again, and buried his face in my neck. I was in heaven, and we stood there for a really long time, him just holding me and kissing me softly. He finally broke away from me, and thinking that maybe I could find a compromise, I said "so how would you feel about spending the night, but we keep things pg-13, no fucking? I just...I don't know how to explain it, but I am so fucking terrified that I might fuck this up. Guys like you don't just show up in my life, ever. And I really want to get to know you. Properly. So you can figure out you like me for more than just my ass." He didn't say anything, but he kissed me on my forehead, took my hand in his, and led me to my door. I fumbled around my pocket for my key, and I let us inside. I gave him the grand tour, all 4 of the small rooms, and then took him back to the living room. He sat down on the couch and I sat next to him, laying my head on his chest, and looking up at him. He ran his hands through my hair and I closed my eyes as he kissed me all over my face. "Whatever you may think of me, it's nothing to how I'm feeling about you," he whispered, landing his next kiss on my lips. The kiss became deeper and in an instant we were making out deeply. I ran my hands all over his chiseled body, every part I could reach. He started sliding his hand inside my shirt and up my abs to my chest. Just having his hands on me as he kissed me was making me rock hard, and I know he could see my pants sticking up. He sighed and slowly broke off the kiss "so, remember when you said you didn't want me to fuck you tonight?" I just stared at him. "Well, it DOES kind of seem like you're sending me mixed messages," he gestured towards my hard-on. I looked down at my pants, straining to contain my dick, and back at him. I sighed, and lifted myself off his chest. "I don't know why you seem to feel like I have enough self-control to handle being around you and not get horned up...have you ever looked in a mirror?" He laughed, slid his hand to the back of my head, and gently pulled me in for another kiss. "Kid, you're so fucking delicious I'd eat you this second if I wasn't a proper Southern gentleman." His accent was literally making me wet, I could feel my hole pulsing and straining itself to make itself ready for his cock. I took a deep breath and finally got myself off the couch. "On a sorta related topic, when was the last time you did eat? Food I mean, are you hungry?" He looked up at me from the couch and grinned, "about 4 hours ago, I'm definitely overdue. Are you going to cook for me? Don't tell me you're domesticated, on top of being gorgeous, I'll propose right now!" I knew he wasn't being serious, but my heart started beating a little faster, there was no denying his words seemed to affect me on a deeper level. But I didn't want him to think I was insane, so I just sort of smiled, "I don't do very much serious cooking, since it's just for me. But my trainer has me on a fairly rigid diet for bulking, and I'm very good at doing my meal prep to make sure I follow it. So I have some stuff in the fridge already prepared and I can heat some up. It's probably not the most delicious cooking you've ever had, but it's got all your macros and it's not half-bad." He stood up, and stepped over to me from the couch, seeming to tower over me because his body was just so broad and muscular. I laid my hands on his chest and kissed him, looking up at him. He wrapped his arms around me and whispered, "I've been waiting a long time for you baby, I don't think I even knew I was waiting until I noticed you at the gym, looking at me." I closed my eyes and exhaled deeply; it wasn't just what he said, it was that he HAD seen me looking at him at the gym, and it meant that from that first moment everything was completely mutual. I lowered my hands, he slid his left hand around my right, and we walked into the kitchen. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------- I spent an hour cleaning up my place. I had the uncontrollable desire to wash my bedding, and clean last night's whole disaster out of them like it never happened. I felt so guilty and dirty, and I was desperate for booze or anything to make those feelings go away...but I managed to ignore those urges. I took a shower and I stood under the water, just feeling the droplets rain down on my skin, imagining my guilt being swept up and disappearing down the drain. But no matter how long I stood there, my guilt stayed with me, eating away at me from the inside. I know that if I do the wrong thing, I'll lose Ryan forever. No matter what, I can't bear to let that happen. As I scrubbed all around my body with the soap, I tried to think of all the things I loved about Ryan, and all the reasons why I would never let anything come between us. He was honest to a fault. He once scratched one of my dad's vinyl records. His record collection was one of the few things I had been able to smuggle out of my step-mom's house when he left for hospice care. Our taste in music had always been one of the things that we had in common, and his records were something that made me feel still close to my dad. Ryan had been moving some of them around one day, trying to help me get my new couch set up. I had gone to the kitchen, I kept my tools under the sink, and I guess one of the records had slipped out of it's cover when he picked them up from the wrong end, and it got scratched when it fell and hit the corner of my living room table. He could have put it away, and I probably wouldn't have known for a long time. It was pretty rare that I listened to actual records these days, and mostly kept them around just to feel part of my dad in my new home. But instead, Ryan came into the kitchen, where I was kneeling down underneath the sink digging in my box of tools for a screwdriver. He gently placed his hand on my arm and pulled me until I was standing back up. I didn't know what was going on, and didn't understand why he had such a serious look on his face. He brought me over to the kitchen table and sat me down on one of the chairs, and then he knelt down so that he was crouching just a little below my eye level. He looked up at me and he looked like he was about to cry--this big, strong bodybuilder who didn't let anything get to him. He looked like he was in anguish. He just stared at me for a moment, and then he said softly "Colby, there's something I need to tell you..." His voice trailed off, and I was shocked. I'd never seen him like this. "Ryan, you're scaring me!" He took a deep breath, and looked me right in the eyes. "I ruined one of your dad's records." I sat there stunned for a second, and then my face finally relaxed. "Jesus Christ Ryan, don't ever fucking terrify me like that, I thought you were going to tell me you were dying or something!" I told him, no matter how important those records were to me, I knew that he didn't do anything to them on purpose, accidents happen. It was a bummer, but he didn't need to feel so bad about it. I was pretty sure I had seen an actual tear roll down his face, but he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me so quickly, I couldn't be sure. "I'm so fucking sorry Colby, I promise I'll be more careful!" I laughed, and hugged him back, "Ryan, there's nothing you can do that would make me stop loving you, you're my family too." He was dependable. If he said he would do something, you might as well consider it already done. All I have to do is think of my life right after Jason left, and then when I fell to the drinking...he didn't leave my side. I could rely on him for anything, and I know he would rather die trying to do something for me than let me down. After my dad died, I had gotten used to the idea that nobody would ever be there for me again. Kevin had been wonderful, but it had taken a little bit of time after we broke up before I felt truly comfortable relying on him for things. Ryan had made sure I knew right from the start that I could ask him for anything, and he would do anything in his power to help me. He was a good person, probably the best person I knew. He barely drank, he didn't want it to affect his bodybuilding. And other than steroids, he didn't touch any other drug. He also never really gave me a hard time about drinking or partying or drugs, as long as I was giving my all in our workouts and I was making progress. He didn't judge me, or make me feel bad about anything. He never had a bad word to say about anything I did, even during the depths of my depression. He taught me everything I knew, and he could have charged me thousands of dollars for the extra tips with steroids, and the meal plans, and the workouts he designed for me, but he stopped letting me pay for him to train me after just a few months. "Colby, you're becoming one of my best friends, and I don't want money to ever be something that comes between us. Whatever you want, or need, just ask me. I'm so happy with all the progress you've made since you started working with me, and I can't wait to see where we can get you. But as of now, you're my friend, not my client. I love you man!" I remember looking up at him, I must have looked completely shocked. He laughed at me, and gave me one of those intense hugs of his. Looking back, he had probably already started having feelings for me by then. "What if I just do it?" I said aloud. What if this is what I should have been doing all along? What if I can fall in love with Ryan, and I just need to open my mind up to that possibility to let him have the chance? I can't imagine meeting anyone more desirable than him, in any way. I've been scared to ruin our relationship, because I know I can't stand the idea of not having him in my life. But what if that's all that's wrong, what if it's just my fear that's keeping me from being able to feel what I know I should be able to feel? If nothing else, I know that Ryan would never leave me the way Jason did. I checked my phone for the first time since I'd gotten up, Kevin hadn't responded yet which made sense--he's rarely on his phone at work. But Ryan had sent me a new message "Hey baby, I'm finishing work soon. I want to come straight to your place, is that okay? I've missed you all day and I just want to have you back in my arms. I want some time with you, and then we should be able to get to the gym with enough time to workout before you have to be at the club. I'll drive you. I love you so much!" I read his message and my nerves felt like they were frayed. He's obviously thinking that I'm ready to start a full-on relationship with him...fuck my life. Why the fuck do I have to break down completely 3-years later? So the asshole left me, that happens to everyone at least once in their life, right? It's been more than enough time, I need to stop letting him get to me. I can't believe that one night of drinking, all because it was a shitty fucking anniversary of the day I got abandoned by a fucking coward, might be the reason I lose Ryan... I thought back to the first time Ryan and I had had sex, one year ago. It had started exactly the same, the second anniversary of the night my life as I knew it had ended. I had been doing more-or-less better at that point, I had gotten my drinking under control, and only used drugs a handful of times in that year at the big circuit parties. My gym progress was going well again, I'd completely recovered from all the damage I'd done to my body post-breakup. And things at work were going well too, the nightclub that I'd been able to invest in a few years back was looking to expand, and I had saved up enough money to expand my share. And all of a sudden, I wake up, and I remember that night from two years ago as if it was yesterday. I stop answering my phone. I spend the day curled up in bed. And when the sun started to set, I decided I couldn't hold back anymore, I needed a drink. My alcohol tolerance that night was still a bit higher than it is now, and I was on to my second bottle of Jack before I decided that I could not stand sleeping by myself that night. I pulled out my phone, and for some reason I didn't even think twice. I opened Ryan's messages and just sent "babe, can you please come over tonight? I don't think I can be alone." He was at my door in less than twenty minutes. He had such a deep look of concern on his face from the moment I opened the door, that at first I was relieved. I hadn't planned on coming on to him, I just wanted his company, to have him there with me. I stumbled a bit as I fell into his arms, and I started crying softly. "I'm so fucking mad at myself Ryan. It's been two fucking years, and I'm still a complete fucking mess." Ryan just pulled me into his hug tighter, he didn't say anything, he just held me and made me feel so loved that I was able to stop crying after only moments. He stepped away from me, took my hand, and lead me to the couch. He laid me down, with my head on one of my cushions, and curled up behind me with his arm around me. "You're the most amazing person I've ever known Colby. If I ever see that mother fucker again, I will kill him. You don't deserve this. But you've done so much work to move on, PLEASE don't let him bring you down again!" And that was when he kissed me for the first time, softly, on my neck. I was so drunk, that I barely noticed it, and it took awhile before I realized it had happened. But I was terrified. This was NOT what I wanted, and it was NOT why I had asked him to come over. On the other hand, he knows how drunk I am, and he knows that I don't feel the same way about him. Maybe he's not trying to start something. I didn't react to his kiss, I just slowly moved my hand until I could place it inside his, and pulled him tighter to me. "Can we watch a movie, will you just cuddle me exactly like this?" I'd asked him. I turned my head a little so I could see his face better, he looked down at me and smiled "I'll hold you as long as you'll let me Colby." And he kissed my neck again. I felt so uncomfortable, but I didn't want to let him know. I needed his comfort, but I was terrified that I might end up doing something or saying something that might cost me his friendship. I grabbed the remote, and I put on a movie. I picked at random, and I think that might have been the catalyst for the whole thing. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------- "I don't have any family left." It was kind of an abrupt topic change, and I wasn't sure what compelled me to bring that up, other than the burning desire to know him, really know him, and for Jason to know me completely. "My mom died when I was really little. My dad re-married, but he died of cancer when I was in high-school. I have a step-sister who I get along with well enough, but my step-mom hated me from the beginning, and as soon as my dad was ill enough that he couldn't be at home anymore, she threw me out. The only thing that had kept me there that long was him, I did everything I could to protect him from her, right up until the end. I have my best friend, Kevin, who was my first real boyfriend in the city. We lived together for a year before we broke up. But we got even closer as friends than we were as a couple. He's in his 40's now, and I think it was the age difference that didn't work, he was always so fixated on the fact that I was so much younger and it stressed him out I think. And then there's my trainer Ryan, he's been an amazing friend through the last few years, on top of helping me work on my body. The meal plan comes from him, he's a pro, still competes regularly throughout the season every year. I have a few other friends, not nearly as close. And that's it." I laid the pan of food in the oven and closed the door, setting the timer, and turned to look at Jason. "I've always dreamed of meeting a Man, although even in my dreams I was never able to dream up someone who looked as good as you; who would help me rebuild my life into something a little less lonely." My eyes were burning a bit, I don't know why I had such a rush of intense emotion. There was nothing particular that made me feel sad or upset or lonely; I'd accepted my fucked-up orphan situation the day I got kicked out of my house at the age of 15. But I don't think I'd ever really thought about what it might feel like to meet someone who I'd be so drawn to, who was also exactly the Man I'd been thinking about in every way, and so much else. I turned away from him so he couldn't see my eyes, if he even thought I might be about to cry I'm sure he'd run for the hills. "Sorry, I'm not sure why I started with my family shit. I'm normally a fairly happy person and that came across a little depressed. Tell me about your family, I want to know more about you!" I was able to subtly rub my eyes with the corner of my sleeve, and was pretty sure he didn't notice, so I turned back around to face him with what I hoped was a convincing smile playing across my face. He was looking at me with a thoughtful expression on his face. He didn't say anything for a moment, and my fucking feelings of self-consciousness, and my god-damned lack of self-esteem were slowly rising in me again. The silence was killing me, as I looked at him and waited for him to say something, anything, that would either soothe me or put me out of my misery. He finally reached out a hand, and put his hand gently on my shoulder. My breathing slowed down a bit, even just his simple touch had a calming effect. When he spoke, he did so with such tenderness in his voice, I couldn't believe it had come from this jacked monster of a Man. "Colby, you're incredible. You're just a kid, you're 23 years old. But look at what you've accomplished, and you have this home that you've made for yourself. I'm so, so sorry for your loss. I just want to hold you until you fall asleep in my arms, and protect you from all the fucked up shit in this world. But you didn't just survive all that bullshit, look at you, you thrived!" He took his hand from my chest and gestured at me, "there's not a lot of guys who catch my eye, and even less of them are kids. But you're fucking beautiful, and you obviously have a lot more strength than most people I've met. I will count myself lucky if you allow me the privilege of getting to know you, spending more time with you, and being there for you." He took a step towards me and used his thumb to wipe a tear from one side of my face, I hadn't even realized it had finally made its way out. "Fuck!" I said quietly. "What the fuck is wrong with me, I swear I'm not always like this. You're going to think I'm even more fucked up than I actually am..." He laughed, and kissed me on my neck again, "I think you're the most beautiful kid I've ever seen. I think that as soon as I'm inside you I'll forget every problem I've ever known. I think you might just be made for me. But I'm also trying not to think about your ass too much, because if I get too horned up I know I'll just fucking rape you, and that's not how I want you to remember the first time you take my cock." I laughed, feeling a bit better. "See?" he said, "you're even more beautiful when you laugh!" He kissed me again and I led us to the small table in the kitchen that I almost never actually used. "I have a fairly normal family, kinda big, lots of cousins, nephews, and nieces. I have two brothers and a sister, I'm the eldest. My entire family still lives in Austin, my sister, the youngest, just got married and now that she's moved out my parents have the house to themselves again. We're all pretty close, both my brothers have kids with their wives, and I love getting to be an uncle, and I'm sure my sister will be knocked up before long..." He kind of trailed off, so I just waited for him to continue. My hand was on his leg under the table, just resting on his thighs, I was trying not to get distracted by how rock hard and defined his quads were, I genuinely wanted to know more about him and especially his family. "...I was married before. To a woman. We were together for eight and a half years." The way his tone darkened as he said that, I knew it couldn't be easy for him to talk about. "I never really considered that I might be...into guys. Growing up, when I was turned on looking at the asses of the guys around me on my football team, I just rationalized that it was my hormones going crazy. That I was actually just turned on by everything because I was so horny. I managed to make excuses for myself, to explain it away. By the time I was in college and training heavy at the gym, I had myself trained to not even look at the people around me. I told myself that someone like me, a MAN's man--no way I could be a fag..." He looked at me, and there was something I could see behind the look, some repressed feeling that tormented him. "I met Catherine in my sophomore year of college, right after I'd made the varsity team. She was one of the senior cheerleaders. She came up to me after practice one night, asked if I had a girlfriend, and when I said no she said 'you do now,' and she practically threw herself on me. I took her back to my place and I fucked her as hard and as rough as I could, I was trying to prove to myself that I was into her. She looked like a real-life barbie doll, and any red-blooded man would die to fuck her. I had no trouble fucking her, but I always ended up having to pound her from behind, so I could see her ass bouncing off my balls. I would start to go soft if I saw her face or her tits. And I would get so fucking angry at myself, I would just throw her upside down and fuck the living shit out of her. She's into all kinds of hardcore shit, so she loved it, used to scream so loud we got complaints from the other people in my dorm. But no matter how hard I fucked her, how desperate I was to prove that I was straight, I could never cum. After an hour or more of fucking her, making her pussy spray as she came 3 or 4 times throughout the fuck, I would always end up having to pretend. I'd be so fucking exhausted, ramming my cock into her wide-open cunt non-stop for that long, I'd be completely dead. And I got more and more pissed at myself every single night; I was determined to breed that bitch, and every night I'd fail." I was trying to look sympathetic, but the way he was talking, and how upset he was getting was making me uneasy. I know that everyone's 'coming-out story' is different, and for some guys it's obviously much more difficult....but what he was telling me made me nervous, it really seemed like he hadn't come to terms with who he was at all. He must have seen the conflict going on in my mind coming across on my face, because he came closer to me and he slowly pulled me into his grip. "Don't get me wrong," he said "I accept that I am the way I am, but at that time I was living in my own personal hell, and Catherine is a fucked-up, evil bitch, who took every opportunity to fuck me up even more than I already felt I was. We got married end of my senior year of college; she had already graduated and was working for some girly bullshit magazine. I had asked her to move into my apartment at the beginning of my junior year, and I'd known in the back of my head that it was a mistake, but I felt so trapped, it was what everyone expected me to do. Anytime I didn't do exactly what she said, she would go around yapping to all of her friends that I was a pussy, and that I had mental problems, that I couldn't get my dick hard, and that I was going to be a complete failure; that she was the only good thing in my life and I was fucking it up. I wanted to strangle that fucking whore in the middle of the night and throw her body into the ocean and watch it get eaten by the sharks. Instead, I asked her to marry me. She had my parents, and my brothers wrapped around her little finger. She had completely manipulated her way into every part of my life, she even controlled every penny in my bank account. Only my sister saw her for what she was, and she warned me again and again. There were so many times I almost told my sister about all the thoughts I had in my head: all of them, even the gay shit. I came to the point where I would rather have had my family hate me, and be free of that cunt, than live with her for one more moment. But I couldn't do it, family always meant everything to me, and worse than worrying that they would hate me for being a fag, I was scared I'd let them down by not giving them the family they wanted, with the grandkids for my parents. I was the oldest, and it's my job." "The six years after I'd finished college were the worst times in my life. I got my job working for one of the oil companies, and started to work my way up on the logistics side. But even as things were going well enough at work, Catherine was making my life a nightmare. She had told everybody that she wanted to wait to have kids until she had gotten her career completely on track, and she was on the pill the whole time I knew her from the time that we'd met. And then, just last year she was promoted to work right underneath the editor of that fucking garbage rag she worked at. She came home one day and told me she was done taking it and expected me to get her pregnant right away. At first when it didn't happen, she just made me into a joke with her friends, and even my family--obviously my swimmers were retarded and were too stupid and lazy to get the job done: just like me. But after a few more months she made me an appointment at a clinic to see what the problem was. I don't know if she ever checked to see if there was something wrong on her side, or if she really did think herself so fucking perfect that there wasn't even any point to getting any test done on herself. Not that it mattered, she was right that it was my fault. She came with me to the clinic, she was the one who talked to the doctor, her fake concern and the way she had her hand caressing mine while we sat in front of his desk was so nauseating, I almost grabbed it and broke it right off her arm. She would have come with me into the little room if she could have, thank god there were a few staff around the clinic and she had to act like a normal person instead of the insane bitch she was. I went in, and while I tried to take my time, eventually I had to make my deposit into that stupid fucking cup. Afterwards I prayed that the results would come back that there really WAS something wrong with me. That would probably have given her all the motivation she needed to divorce me, which would have fixed everything. I know she would have taken everything I owned in the divorce, and used my own money to pay for the lawyer to clean me out, but I wouldn't fight her. I'd be so relieved that I would happily giver her everything she wanted if she would just leave me alone. I knew that I could never be the one to divorce her; she had made it clear thousands of times that she would ruin my reputation, my finances, my future, and worst of all, she would destroy my family if I ever even thought about leaving her. She's a fucking disgusting piece of shit, and I knew that she meant every word; she would completely ruin me if I ever tried to divorce her." He took a deep breath, "...that was the night I borrowed a gun from my brother Kevin. I used to own some guns, but I had gotten rid of them not long after I'd met Catherine, because I was scared I might actually kill her after one of her scream-fests where she berated me for every problem she'd ever had. I had been so nervous that I might snap that I HAD to get rid of them, my prized hunting rifles, everything. I couldn't take the chance of having them in the house and losing my control and pumping her brains full of lead." Jason was breathing really hard, while I felt like I could barely breathe at all, I didn't realize that I had been holding my breath as he said those things. "I waited for a night that she was going to be out of town on an overnight trip for the magazine, and I borrowed a gun. I came home, I drank most of a bottle of bourbon, and I locked myself in the bathroom while I tried to build up the courage to just end it. But not by using the gun on her, as much as I dreamed about it. No, killing her would have been giving in to her, it would have made her appear like an innocent victim, and nobody would ever know how evil she was. I was going to shove that gun in my mouth, pull the trigger, and let her find the body. I had written a note that included every last detail of what that whore had done to me, and I had hidden it inside my sock so that it wouldn't be found until I was with the coroner, I couldn't take the chance that she'd find it...but as the hours ticked by, and the bourbon wore off, I just couldn't do it. I sat there practically all night, but I was too much of a coward. I was such a fucking pussy, I didn't have the courage to just fucking do it." His eyes had gotten red, there were tears that had streaked their way down his cheeks. His face was contorted with anger I'd never seen on a person before. No, not anger, rage. I could feel him shaking slightly, and I hadn't realized until then that he was on the brink of losing control. He wasn't telling the story to me anymore, I'm not sure he was aware of my presence by that point. He was lost in his own past and just trying to get it all out. I wanted so badly to comfort him, to tell him that he was safe now, and that I would never do anything to hurt him. I almost wanted to tell him that I'd heard enough, that I didn't need to hear anymore. I was seriously alarmed by how intense his hatred for her was, and by his revelation about the gun. But at the same time, I was hooked on his every word, and desperate to hear what happened. I felt so shitty that I was listening to his story like it was some cheap tv movie, but I had to know more and somehow I kept silent and waited for him to keep going. "It wasn't going to be long before we got the results back, and as much as I prayed for there to be something wrong, I couldn't take that chance. I knew that I couldn't live like that anymore, the episode with the gun proved that even though I didn't end up putting a bullet through my skull, I was at my breaking point. The one possession of mine that I was somehow able to keep in my name was my truck. I enlisted the help of a colleague from work, someone who I'd confided in a little about what was going on, and who hadn't fallen for her act when he'd met her at our work functions. He got me a phone that she wouldn't find out about, and I was able to arrange to sell my truck at a dealership in San Antonio, hours away, not knowing how much I'd get for it. I found another truck at another dealership in Dallas, a little bit older than mine and a bit more used. But I had to hope that I'd have enough with the money I was going to get for selling mine, knowing that I was going to be ripped off on both ends. I gave my friend the watch that my parents had given me for my college graduation as payment for a few additional favours: he was going to drive to meet me in San Antonio, and then take me to Dallas before heading home. He was also going to help me set up a new bank account at a different bank to send my paychecks to. One that she wouldn't be able to find. He helped me figure out the move too, a job with a competitor in another part of the country, so nobody else would have any idea where I went, and somewhere she would never think to look. And finally, he found me a new identity. I knew I could never be safe once I left if I used my own name. She'd find me, and she'd destroy me, and my family. I didn't care what happened to me, but I wasn't going to let her hurt my family. And as much as they were going to suffer with me disappearing, I knew it was better than if I tried to divorce her. She was going to be left with my house, all my possessions, all the money that I'd saved in my accounts. I hoped beyond hope that it would be enough to get her to leave me alone, but mostly leave my family alone. I'd rather they think I disappeared; accept that their oldest child was gone and was never coming back than to have her ruin their lives the way she ruined mine. So I made as many plans as I could, knowing the clock was ticking on the results of the clinic, and I prepared as much as possible. The day came all too quickly; we got the call that the results were in one morning while I was at work. She called me and conferenced in the doctor, and we made an appointment to go back and speak with him at the clinic that evening. That was the last time I ever spoke to her. I immediately told my job that I needed to leave for a family emergency, and drove to San Antonio. I'd thrown my phone in the dumpster behind my office before I left, along with most of the contents of my wallet. I kept the pictures of my family, and the cash that my colleague had given me, and I got on the highway right away. I only had a few hours before she'd know something was up, as soon as I didn't come home I knew she would start trying to track me one way or another. My phone, my credit cards, the gps in my truck. I didn't even try to stop and get another change of clothes, I'd figure it out after I got to Dallas. I got to the dealership just before they closed, and I did the best I could to negotiate a good deal for my truck, it was still practically brand new. But I didn't have much time, and there was no way I was ever going to be completely happy with what they were going to offer me, so it didn't take long before I handed over the keys and walked out of there with my check. It would barely cover the amount I'd agreed to for the new truck, I might have enough left over to buy one tank of gas. But it was enough. Tom arrived at the dealership to bring me to Dallas, and we left right away. We got there a little bit before midnight and slept in the bed of the truck at a highway rest stop. As soon as the sun started coming up we headed over to the dealership. He dropped me off, shook my hand, and I almost broke down right there. I was flooded with so much relief, I could barely stand up. He hugged me, practically holding me upright, and he just waited for me to get control of myself. When I had finally calmed back down, I took his hand in mine and I thanked him with as much sincerity as I could, and I told him that he had literally saved my life. He hugged me again and went on his way. I left Dallas less than an hour later in my new truck, and didn't look back..." He opened his eyes back up. I don't think he'd realized that they were closed until he had finished talking. He looked around my kitchen, almost looking confused. Like he couldn't remember how he'd gotten there. But then he looked down at me, his face quite serious, and said "Colby...I didn't mean to lay that all out on you. I haven't gotten to talk about any of this shit with anyone before, and once I started it was like I couldn't stop it. It just kept coming out. I'm so, so fucking sorry. I never meant to scare you with any of my bullshit." He looked so upset with himself, my heart just about burst. "Babe," I said again quietly, but firmly, "I'm not sure if it's possible, but I think knowing all of that about you made me fall for you even more." Jason's eyes widened a bit, "fall for me?" "Uh...I mean, like...I know we just met and everything, and I'm not a crazy person..." I was stammering now. "I didn't mean fall for you...like FALL for you, I just meant, um...you know..." But I'd drawn a blank. Are you fucking kidding me? God, please don't tell me I might have just found the perfect Man, a Man who's suffered untold pain and misery, and I scared him off in a matter of hours!! I was screaming at myself in my head. I wanted to curl up and die. I couldn't muster any more words, I'd completely lost all ability to speak, and still he just looked at me with those gorgeous eyes seemingly seeing into my soul. "Please, please don't tell me that I've already fucked this up!" He looked at me, more confused than ever, "what are you talking about? How could you POSSIBLY think that you've fucked anything up? I'm only confused because I just told you about how fucked up I am, and somehow it seems like you still want to be around me. I assumed you'd be ready to tell me to get out of your house after all of that. When I told you about the gun, I swear I felt you flinch. But...do you really think you are still into me? I need you to be honest. I can take it if you're not, I know I've got issues. Just don't play me if you're not serious about me." I felt so much relief, I think my brain might have pumped itself full of dopamine. I toppled into his strong chest, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, and pressed myself to him as tightly as I could. "Jason, or if that's not your real name, whatever your name actually is...I am more drawn to you now, after hearing everything you went through, than I was when you were standing next to me naked in the change room. And trust me, I wouldn't have thought THAT was possible." He pulled his arms around me, sliding one underneath my shirt and sliding it around my back, while his other hand went down to my ass and squeezed it firmly. He brought his lips to mine and kissed me, more deeply, more passionately than I had ever been kissed before. I never wanted him to let go. I'm not sure how long we stood there, him exploring my back and grabbing every part of my ass he could squeeze, and me pulling myself as tightly to him as I could, while we made out like it was our last day on Earth. Eventually the timer started going to let us know the food was ready, and we had to break it off. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------- I was still pretty drunk when the movie started, and it took me awhile to notice that one of Ryan's hands had made its way down my back and was resting on my ass. He was caressing it slowly back-and-forth, gently. The movie was some steamy romantic drama, and I never realized it could have given him the impression that I wanted him to make a move on me. During one of many sex scenes, I felt Ryan's lips graze my earlobe, as his fingers gently slid just inside the waistband of my underwear. Not having planned this, I was wearing a jock underneath my track pants, as I hadn't really thought about clothes when I had finally gotten up to start drinking. All of a sudden, Ryans fingers were rubbing around my bare ass, and while the couple in the movie moaned loudly, Ryan kissed my ear and my neck, and whispered "Colby, I love you more than anything in this world. I've never felt this for anyone before..." I realized that I could feel that he had an erection. He probably had had it for awhile, because I didn't feel it growing, it was already there...and holy shit was it there. I'd seen him naked a million times, and I knew he had a big cock, but I'd never seen it fully erect before. And from the throbbing and pulsing I could feel coming from that rod as it tried to burrow its way into my back, I knew it must have been the biggest cock I'd ever had near me. Nausea rolled over me, and probably the whisky had a lot to do with that. But at that moment I wished more than anything that I could teleport far away, and not ever have to talk with Ryan about what was happening...but I knew I was going to have to say something. What could I say though, that wouldn't ruin our friendship? "Friends" isn't even the right term. He's more like my brother, if I had a brother that I was closer with than anyone else in the world. I turned over slowly, but I accidentally pressed his cock with my thigh, and he closed his eyes, moaning with pleasure. "Colby, I can't tell you how long I've been waiting for this! I didn't want to rush you, but I was starting to wonder if you'd ever ask me to be with you!" He placed his hand on mine, and pulled it down to his bulging crotch, squeezing it through the strained denim. "You have the most beautiful lips, I've spent years dreaming about seeing them slide up and down my cock." With his other hand, he gently pulled my face towards his, until he kissed me. Our first real kiss, his tongue invading my mouth and massaging mine. He went straight for the metal rod and played with it between his lips. And then I felt him pushing me down, using more and more power until my face was being bent down towards his crotch. To this day, I have no idea what came over me. I know I love to suck cock, but there was no desire in the motivation that I felt. I was scared, horrified at what was about to happen. And I told myself "maybe if I give him head, and can make him cum, then we can just go to sleep..." So I got down on my knees in front of the couch, as I'd done with Jason so many times before. I grabbed one of the back cushions and placed in under my legs, so they were more comfortable. Ryan's excitement was palpable, he stood up, now towering above me as I kneeled in front of him, and he very slowly undid his belt and the button of his jeans. It was as if he was trying to seduce me, to put on a show. I became aware that he was looking at my face, and I knew I must look scared. I was terrified of what was happening, but I knew if he saw that on my face then he might feel ashamed. I just wanted this to end, but I was not willing to lose Ryan in the process. Somehow I managed to smile up at him. "You were made for me Colby, you're always so fucking perfect. And I know that I'm perfect for you too. Look at your incredible smile, those perfect fucking lips, I have so much precum for you baby, it's all yours!" I'd never heard Ryan say anything sexual before, and it took everything I had not to succumb to the nausea right then and there. I knew it wasn't all because of the situation, I knew that I had had WAY too much to drink...but this was definitely not going to help. Not to mention that his cock was very likely to trigger my gag-reflex. I might have gotten good at desensitizing it in the past, but the size of this shaft was beyond anything I'd ever had down my throat (or anywhere else) ever before. I gritted my teeth, and swallowed down my nausea. I can do this. I might even actually enjoy sucking Ryan's cock, I always do with every other guy. I hooked my thumbs inside the waistband of his Armani briefs, so fucking snug and perfect on his massive legs, and pulled them down, slowly. The first thing that happened was I realized I had misjudged exactly how big, and how hard, Ryan's cock was. As I slid his briefs down, his shaft was caught with it, so when I finally slid them past his massive head, it sprang back up with incredible force, and smacked me right in the jaw. And he was definitely not exaggerating about the amount of precum he had been building up, I could feel it smearing all around my chin and my cheek, and even on my lips. "Oh wow, babe you have no idea how fucking delicious you look with my cock sliding around your face, and all my precum smeared around your lips! Please stop teasing me, I need you so bad!" Once again I felt his hand slide to the back of my head, and start to push me towards his crotch. I opened my mouth, let my tongue gently slide over and around his velvety smooth cockhead, and licked up as much of the gushing precum as I could. He let me lick his cock for a moment before he started pushing me down harder, so I spread my lips wide and felt him slide his cock into my throat. I couldn't help but notice the taste. It was strong, but actually very intoxicating in the best way. It tasted like MAN. His precum was musky, but a little sweet. If he had been anyone else, I think I would have devoured his cock at that point. As it was, the taste of his cock definitely made it easier. I couldn't help but find it incredible. I opened my mouth wider, relaxing a little, and Ryan took the opportunity to slide more of his mammoth shaft into my throat. I felt my gag reflex start to trigger, but I relaxed, and breathed deeply through my nose. I waited there for a moment, continuing to work my tongue over and around every inch of veiny cock. Ryan was moaning and groaning in ecstasy at this point, both his hands were on the back of my head, but they were only pushing me down a little, mostly they were just caressing every part of the back of my head any my neck, allowing my throat to adjust to the invasion as he very slowly inched his way further into my mouth. I started to suck at his cock, and let him slide it in and out, all the while massaging every inch with the tip of my tongue, using my piercing to find all his most sensitive areas, and learning how Ryan liked to have his cock sucked. He continued to fill my mouth with precum over and over again, and I obediently swallowed every drop, realizing that his taste was actually fucking delicious. I used the tip of the metal stud on my tongue and slid it right into the slit on his cockhead, gently working it around and around, coaxing out more precum than I've ever seen outside of a porn video. As my inner cocksucker took over, I allowed myself to to be shoved all the way down on his cock, until his giant, sweaty balls were pressed against my face. They smelled like sex. I swear that smell was making me high. All of a sudden I was deep-throating the biggest cock I'd ever seen, and I was doing it with ease. Ryan was grunting and moaning as he started to piston his cock in and out of my mouth, allowing me a second to breathe in-between thrusts. He went faster and faster, and I had to swallow every few seconds to make sure I didn't miss a single drop of his precum. I was definitely into it now, all the nausea and all my rational thinking had flown out the window. His cock was so fucking delicious, and I put all my focus onto pleasing him. I just wanted to give him more pleasure than anyone else ever had, I needed this to be the best blowjob Ryan had ever experienced. All of a sudden I was desperate to please him, and I realized how lucky I was, and how many other gay guys would kill to trade places with me... And just like that, it went away as quickly as it had started. Ryan had slowed down, and then taken his cock out of my mouth, pulling me up to stand in front of him at the same time. It was a moment before I realized what was happening. He had reached down to pull my shirt off, and then removed his own. His huge pecs and washboard abs were pressed against my own. He bent his head down to kiss me and it all came flooding back to me--this is wrong. This is Ryan. Please stop... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------- We ate in my living room, not-really watching the tv, and stopped to make out every couple of minutes. Dinner took a long time to finish due to all these make-out interruptions. After we'd finished eating, I threw our dishes in the dishwasher, gave him a towel and a new toothbrush I had bought in case I ever had an overnight guest, and got myself ready for bed. We had both already showered at the gym, so he joined me in the bedroom almost immediately after brushing his teeth. I was wearing a pair of briefs and laying on top of the mattress. I always sleep naked, but I didn't know how horny he was going to get and I really wanted him to know that I still hoped we could wait at least until after our first night to fuck. He undressed himself, also leaving his underwear on, a sexy pair of Under Armour boxer briefs. I could see his massive cock outlined through the material, but I wasn't going to give in to my primal instincts. I pulled him towards me and threw the covers over us. I turned to face away from him so he could spoon me properly. He slid his hand up and down my legs and my back, not hesitating to slide inside my briefs to rub my ass, but not really grabbing at it like he had been back in the kitchen, and I took his arm and wrapped it around my chest. "It really is Jason. I changed my last name, but I kept Jason. I've always liked my name," and he kissed me on the back of my neck, pulled me tightly backwards against him, and closed his eyes. "My last name is Avery...my real last name. People here know me as Jason Blanchard, from Louisiana. Up here they don't know the difference between us Southerners. But I want you to know the real me baby." I don't remember exactly when I fell asleep, but it couldn't have taken long. I felt something that I hadn't felt in a long time, it was a deep sense of security, of safety, of protection. It was the feeling that someone was there to take care of me, that I hadn't felt since my dad was alive, and it was so comforting, being in Jason's massive arms like that, I was completely at peace for the first time in my adult life. We slept soundly, I'm sure Jason probably got up to piss at least once, but I was so deeply asleep that I didn't wake up, and thankfully my bladder didn't become insistent until the morning. When I got up, his soft snores made me smile, and I took care to leave the bed with as little movement as possible not wanting to disturb him. I came back to bed and crawled right back into his arms, he groaned and pulled me tight against him again, pressing himself against me from behind. In moments I was asleep again, dreamless, peaceful bliss. The next time I woke it, it was because I could feel his cock straining to rip through it's constraints and find it's way into me. It was so hard, and I was still waking up, I didn't have any idea what was happening at first. I thought I'd rolled onto a very large, cylindrical rock. But as the fog of sleep slowly evaporated from my brain I realized that that didn't make any sense. Why the fuck would there be a rock in my bed. Eventually I woke up enough to remember that Jason was snoozing up against me, and I was in awe of just how hard he got. My own dick started to wake up as I became more aware of the sensation of his head pressing up against my hole through both our pairs of underwear. I did my best to manoeuvre myself out of bed, and practically ripped my briefs off. My own 8.5-inch dick sprang up like it was a jack-in-the-box, leaking copious amounts of precum. I gently pulled back the covers of my bed and positioned myself inversely to him, so that my ass was almost touching his face, and my mouth was even closer to his massive cock. I used one hand to slowly, gingerly pull down the waistband of his underwear, doing my best not to make any sudden movements, and being careful not to snag the band on his cock. It was tricky work, but eventually I had them down so that the waistband was sitting on his legs just below his balls, which I was ecstatic to see were enormous, and I could only hope full of his load. I reached out with the tip of my tongue, and I just barely touched it to the slit at the head of his cock; the big mushroom head completely protruding from behind its cover. The taste was incredible, even for a veteran cocksucker like myself who had given head to more guys than I could remember. It was musky, and sweet, and I could still taste the hint of his soap from his shower at the gym the night before; but most of all I could taste MAN. I lost all control in that moment, and I dove down his shaft, somehow managing to glide my lips all the way down to the base, until my nose was pressed into his heavy balls. My tongue piercing was massaging every bit of Jason's cock that it could reach. He groaned, and I felt a strong pressure on the back of my head, forcing me even farther down on his throbbing monster. He had taken his hand and grabbed a fistful of my hair from the back of my head, and was shoving me down on his cock so far that I was starting to choke. "Fuck yeah baby, that's exactly how I like to start my day!" He held me down as his cock throbbed even harder in response to my performance on his veiny monster. As he choked me on his shaft, my throat tightened even more, giving him the most intense pleasure a guy can take from another person. "Fuuuuuuuuuuccckk. God damn it Colby, your mouth was made for this! Keep going sexy, take it all!" I was sure my jaw was going to unhinge, but this aggression that appeared out of nowhere was really turning me on, and I was desperate to please him. My eyes were squeezed shut, and tears were streaming down my cheeks, and still he managed to get his head farther down the back of my throat. "Oh wow baby, that feels amazing, I love how desperate you are for my cock!" He eased up on me all of a sudden, pulled my head from his crotch by the fistful of hair until I was all the way off his cock; sweet, cool air was rushing back into my lungs, and I gasped and spluttered, not knowing what was happening. He kept pulling my hair roughly to bring my face towards his, kissing me aggressively and roughly, and then spitting a massive wad right into my open mouth. My eyes widened in shock, I had no idea what was going on; this was not at all what I had been expecting. And before I could react, I was being slammed back down onto his pulsing rod. "FUCKING BITCH! Yeah, take my fucking cock slut!" I had never experienced anything like it before, I almost wanted to wrench my head free from his grip and throw him across the room. What the fuck was he doing? I couldn't believe he was treating me like his fleshlight...but at the same time, there was another part of me that had never felt more of a rush than what was at that moment exploding through every part of my body, like the greatest high I'd ever had from any drug--only much more powerful. It was that part of me that seemed to be the part that had control of my motor functions, desperate to give pleasure to this dominant Apex Alpha. I felt my hole twitching and could feel the lips coated in my own wetness, never before had I been ready to beg for cock the way I was right now. My throat screamed in agony and my lungs were burning from lack of oxygen, but the only thing that mattered was obeying him; making sure my single purpose was to serve him. I could feel so much excitement in my body as I felt his powerful hand force me all the way down to the base of his cock again, and his head was pulsing at the back of my throat. I knew that he was about to reward me with the only prize that mattered: his massive load of hot, thick, creamy DNA. His orgasm was more powerful than anything I'd ever seen or heard of before, it seemed to take control over his entire body, and lasted for minutes. I was about to pass out from lack of oxygen when I started to feel the white-hot load start to pump out of his throbbing cock and propel all the way down to the back of my throat. There was more cum than I had ever thought could be possible. I was swallowing mouthfuls of the thick semen every couple of seconds just to keep from losing any as it filled up my mouth completely. I was determined to swallow every single drop, to show him that I understood that it was my duty to receive it eagerly. And eager I was, burning with so much desire to swallow his cum; the desire to demonstrate a complete submission to him. A desire I would have sworn did not exist just half an hour ago... It was a raging conflict in my head, these two competing ideas, as part of me felt such a deep sense of anger for having been used like this. And the anger was mixed with a burning shame: the fact that I knew that there was a part of me that enjoyed it, that had given in to these demented thoughts. On the other side of things I could still feel the desire that had burned so hot inside me while I was so desperately submitting to him. I was so lost in the swirling mix of emotions that I hadn't even noticed that his hand, while still on the back of my head, was no longer shoving me forcefully down on his cock, it was now gently caressing around the places where he had grabbed my hair, almost lovingly. And his cock, while still massive, was no longer blocking my airway and I was breathing almost normally. I had no idea how long I had been continuing to go down on him after he stopped coming, but it could have been several minutes. I brought my mouth off his shaft, stood up, and walked out of my bedroom. I went inside the bathroom and locked the door, and then let myself collapse onto the floor. The afterglow of whatever feelings there had been inside myself that had responded so eagerly to his domination were wearing off. Like a drug, the excitement and the hornyness had hit me and then worn off, and I was left suddenly with pain and the self-loathing that was all that remained.