"You think your hot shit, don't you? Struttin` your stuff" I said looking into James' eyes. It had been a while since I had seen him last, a few months. In that time his hair had grown, his lip had been pierced, and his skin had cleared up. I knew I was still in love with him, and he knew it too.
"No," He simply answered. I knew from the hug we had shared right before he got in my car that since he moved he didn't smell the same. That scent on my pillows had kept me hard through the night in the past, and I got a little sad knowing that now it was gone forever. "And I don't strut."
"Fine, whatever." The drive home was pretty quite. The radio blared, and the months distance had taken its toll. We weren't connected at the hip anymore, and I was sad again.
We got to my house and came inside, where he exchanged pleasantries with my mom, who liked his longer hair, but didn't care for his piercing. I went ahead to my room to make sure it was just right. I didn't have a bed, just a wrap around couch. I sat on it and waited for him.
"So, James."
"Yeah, Michael?" I couldn't keep my eyes off his lips as he said my name. Michael just wasn't angelic unless it was poring from those pretty pink lips, which I feared would never touch mine again. I started to realize that maybe tonight was a mistake, and maybe the distance was just the tip of the ice pick. Could this night be the hammer that breaks us apart forever?
"Want to watch Jawbreaker?" I asked, pulling myself from my thoughts. Then is when I noticed what he was wearing. A Tee Shirt, which was not big deal, but he was wearing nurse scrubs. They were a close cousin of pajama pants, which totally got me hot. Temptation suddenly had a stronger hold on me that night.
We watched jaw breaker, and eventually I slid onto his side, and then my arms around his waist, then my head on his thigh. Old times. His hand fell from the back of the couch to my side. I couldn't stand it anymore.
"Can I blow you?" I asked. He wasn't startled by the question, I had asked it many times before.
"Yes." Was all he had to say, My hand was retrieving his cock from the slit in his pants faster then I knew I could move, and then I took him into my mouth still soft. Soft moans came from my mouth, and even more from his. Both of his hands found the back of my head. He remembered how I liked it. I was the aggressor, but I liked to feel aggressed. Face fucked. Both his hands moved in my hair as his hips started making time with his advances. Perfect rhythm.
I loved watching his face as this went on, those looks weren't of passion, or of love. The look on his face was pain or anger. Stress. The look you get when trying to lift something heavy. His teeth were bared, his upper lip curled, his eyes closed. He grunted with each thrust, and I was no longer a person, but an object of pleasure.
Then I lifted my head up. "Hey will you--" I started while panting. He cut in.
"I can't suck you, I just got this pierced last week and it could get infected." I was crushed, but he started to get up. I feared farther injury, but then he started to push me up onto the couch, and he kneeled. His hand found my cock, and he went at it with expert skill. Then his lips found mine. After all this time apart he still knew how to kiss, and we did just that. I ran my fingers through his long hair, and thrust my cock into his hand, and played with his tongue in my mouth, then the kiss broke. I forced his head to the nape of my neck. He bit, and sucked, while he jerked his hand faster and faster, I was making all sorts of noise that would normally make me feel a fool.
"I love you." I said.
He stopped just long enough to say "I love you too." He went back for my neck, but then changed direction. His head was an inch from my penis, and for a moment I didn't understand, but then his tongue found its way to my cock head, and it all rang clear. He sucked it for a few seconds of a time, then he put his tongue back to work, then he went farther down, jacking me as he sucked my balls.
I pulled him up on top of me, we kissed again, his soft lips on mine, his contrastingly rough hands on my arms, shoulders, neck, face. He began riding me without entry, making a moan leave my lips.
"You like that, don't you?" He said, a wicked smile on my lips. This was a dream come true, finally the aggressed truly becoming the aggressor.
"Yeah, do it harder." There was music playing, and he road me in time with the music, our foreheads touching. Suddenly I could smell him. It was that familiar smell, that man scent. I lifted him off of me, turned around and set him on the couch. My mouth found its way instantly to his cock, sucking faster and harder then I ever had, taking in that scent. I felt his hands once again, and the thrusting.
"I'm ganna cum." He said, grabbing my hair as if he would simply fall away upon release. Then he did, and I tasted it. I never liked the taste of cum, but I loved the, you know, taste of it; the power. The knowledge that I had just caused that much pleasure, and I came too. I climbed up to his side and kissed him, until we both were too tired to do anything, so I just wrapped my hands around his waist, laid my head on his leg, and fell asleep.