The Summer I Met Konner

This story is about a sexual relationship between an older and younger man.

If that is not of your interests, please read no further.

If you are under the age of 18 or it is illegal to read such stories in your country, please do not continue.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses etc. are either products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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© 2023 Teddy Johnson

Chapter 5

Konner kept coming over. Not that I was complaining or anything. Even though my heart triple jumped every time I opened the door, I was starting to relax around him. There were no expectations set when he would come over. Sometimes we would sit on the back porch, other times we would sit in the den and talk, or we would go for a walk to the park and read by the lake. Whatever the occasion was though, he always found a sly way of making physical contact. He would scoot close to me on the couch so our sides were touching, our feet would touch while laying down in the park, or the one that really caught me by surprise: His hands around my waist.

"The glasses are in that cupboard?"

"Yeah above the sink." I responded, not looking up from the saucepan.

"Lemme just get behind you." Suddenly I felt Konner's hands grab my waist as he held me in place so he could pass behind me. There was definitely enough space between the island and the stove for him not to be this close.

"Oh uh..." I didn't know exactly what to say so I coughed hoping that would cover for my mouth opening in the moment of shock.

"What was that?" He took a sip of iced tea.

"Nothing! I just had something in my throat, but food is ready so take a seat." He let out one of his signature grunts and sat at one of the barstools on the other side of the kitchen island.

We ate in silence, which bothered me because I hadn't cooked for anyone in years so I was in desperate need of validation. Even the slow game of footsie he had started under the table couldn't distract me from needing to know what he thought.

When he finally looked up from his plate I saw that it was empty and took that as a good sign. He pushed a few strands off his forehead and back onto his head and asked me if I was going to eat the rest of mine. I shook my head and handed him my plate while reassuring him that I had a late breakfast and was fine.

`What were we doing?' I thought to myself. The past week had been fun hanging out with Konner, but it was all jumbling my brain. Of course he was a man of few words so I was going to have to be the one to bring it up.

"So you like men?"

He took another bite of salmon, waited a second, and then shrugged. Okay a shrug...what does that mean.

"I don't know. I like who I like. Don't really worry about all the other stuff." He continued to eat as if the question hadn't phased him.

"Have you dated men before?" He was silent for too long. Did it sound judgemental? Was he not ready to have this conversation?

"Dated? No."

"Oh ok-"

"Fucked? Yes."

My mouth fell open. The bluntness of the statement stunned me. Questions swam in my head except none of the words seemed to be able to form any sort of coherency to leave my mouth. I was just sitting across from the table staring at him while he shoveled the last morsels of food into his mouth.

"What, did you think that when I made you come the other day that was just first timer's luck?" The smirk on his face made my body temperature rise by ten degrees.

"I-I-I hadn't thought about it too much. I mean I have thought about it and I enjoyed it, but I just assumed you knew how to...um...because you've done it to yourself. Not that I've thought about you jerking off just that, well I mean I did in that instance, but it's not something that-what?"

The smile on his face was getting bigger and then he burst into a laugh. I had heard him express joy before, but this was different. It came from the depths of those beautiful abs I had a chance to see, he tipped the chair back and his hands grabbed the table so he wouldn't fall backwards.

"Fuck you." I grabbed the dishes from the table as I got up and headed into the kitchen. He fucking loved this: making me flustered so words just leave my mouth and sound dumb as I try to pick them up off the floor. The roar of the kitchen sink wasn't enough to drown out his joy, but I soon heard it taper off, his chair scoot back against the linoleum, and his footsteps slowly make their way over to me.

"Aaw don't be mad," his voice gently entered my ear as his lips found their way onto my neck. I took a deep breath and tried to rein in the conflicting feelings that he was sending through my body.

"Don't think you can kiss your way out of this one. You know I hate it when you do that," I said in my most convincing voice.

"I only do it..."

he kissed my neck again

"Because you're so cute..."

he playfully bit my ear

"When you get flustered." He placed his chin on top of my head and reached his hands inside the sink to find mine. Our fingers interlocked under the warm water and I could feel his heartbeat against my back as his calloused hands played with mine.

I let go of his hands and faced him, ignoring the water that was now dripping onto the floor. His face was stoic, but his eyes were darting all over my face, trying to read me. He was nervous. Sometimes I forgot he was just a kid.

I splashed him with the water left on my hand. He smiled.

~

`Shoot I forgot to tell Konner about my date,' I thought to myself. The thought of excusing myself to the restroom and sending him a quick text crossed my mind, but I quickly disregarded it. I was having fun with Michael. It was his chiseled features that had first caught my eye. It was as if someone had spent years carving this man from the most perfect piece of copper stone, which was beautifully illuminated by the low candle light of the restaurant he had brought me to.

I lived here for my entire childhood and never knew there was a place that served $70 steaks, so when he texted me and told me where we were going, I scrambled to look for a nice enough outfit. I made a mental note to stop by Men's Warehouse at some point soon because my blazer was definitely two sizes too small now, and not in a flattering way; meanwhile, Michael's ensemble seemed to fit him perfectly as if it was fitted for him seconds before knocking on my door.

He drove an escalade which put the 10 year old Chevy sitting in my driveway to shame. He had brought me flowers, a kind gesture, even though they would be dead in a landfill somewhere a week from now.

The conversation on the drive to the steakhouse had been one that I'd had many times; finding out where we grew up, siblings, hobbies, and all the small talk bullshit that first dates bring. Thankfully, the trip to the restaurant was a short one and boring conversation turned into Michael explaining what most of the words on the menu meant. I might know how to throw ingredients in a skillet and have it taste decent, but consommé? Au poivre? Paupiette?? Why not just say thinly sliced meat that had been stuffed??

Michael had found my cluelessness endearing and was happy to answer all my questions and in the end I settled on a ribeye, and he settled on a type of pasta that I will never be able to pronounce.

"I feel like I've talked way too much," I noted halfway through our lavender infused crème brûlée.

"It's okay Nick, that's the point of a date, to learn about each other. Plus I enjoy listening to you talk about what you're passionate about and it sounds like you really found that in writing," he gently broke the brûlée, took a spoon of custard and smiled at me as it disappeared in his mouth. He must have seen the worry on my face because he followed up with "Fine. If you're so worried you talked too much, next time I'll make sure I talk MORE."

"Next time?" I asked sheepishly.

"Yes next time," it was hard to understand him with a spoon in his mouth. "Contrary to what you might think, I am having a good time. Not many people let me blab on about food and explain how you can get purée to be so smooth."

It's hard to think about how someone goes from culinary school to being a lawyer, but as he explained earlier, some hobbies are better left just that.

We finished our dessert intermingled with relaxed conversation and once there was a lull, Michael gestured towards the door, which he held open for me.

"Wait!" I stopped halfway back to the car and turned around. "We didn't pay!" I almost started sprinting towards the building, but Michael grabbed my arm and pulled me back towards his car.

"It's okay," he put his arm around my back and guided me in the wrong direction.

"What do you mean it's `okay'?!? We can't dine and dash! We need to go back and pay-

"Nick...calm down, I took care of it. I paid the bill."

"When did you- I didn't see them drop the check." I stammered. "You should've at least let me split it with you, that was expensive." I don't know why I was digging for my wallet. I hadn't carried cash on me since 2017.

I guess he had had enough of my struggling because the next thing I knew we were chest to chest and I was staring up and into his eyes that were reflecting the flickering street lamp.

"It was my treat." He pressed his forehead against mine. His arms wrapped themselves around my waist. I had been in this position before. So close I was without words, unable to think straight with a handsome man staring at me, the heat from his body nullifying the chill of the night air.

I didn't mean to kiss him. It just sort of happened. Suddenly I was leaning upwards pressing my lips against his. The subtle taste of wine exchanged between us as he took a deep breath and backed away.

"Sorry I didn't mean to do that. I'm not sure what I was thinking." I tried to push him away, but his grasp was steadfast.

"Kiss me again."

~

I felt like a giddy school girl the next morning; the events of last night replaying in my head over and over as I enjoyed a cup of tea on the deck. He had held my hand in the car all the way back to my house and didn't let go until we were on the doorstep, and even then it was difficult to pull us apart. I had been so wrapped up in all that had happened when my phone chimed I realized I hadn't checked it since before I left the house yesterday. I dug around in the pocket of my slacks until I found it and hit the button on the side. Staring at me were six texts from Laura, no doubt all wondering how the date had gone, and two from Konner. Undoubtedly the second I texted Laura she would call and want to talk for hours so I unlocked my phone and looked at the messages from Konner.

7:49pm - `I'll be over in a few, I need your advice."

Fuck.

8:04pm - `Text me when you get back'

Double fuck.

Why did I feel this pit in my stomach? We weren't dating. We were just two friends that hung out a lot and one had made the other come one time and we rarely talked about it and never really did anything like it ever again only kiss and rarely make out, but still there was tension between the two of us that was never addressed, but it didn't need to be addressed because we just liked where we were.

At least I think we did. The prospect of Konner and I becoming serious was slim to none. He had just turned 18! Did he even have a job? Or a major? A thought about what he wanted to do with his future?? He was just a young guy that was having some fun with an older man during his summer at home. Nothing more, nothing less.

I came up with a response apologizing for not responding and saying I had gone out, but I would be free the next couple days if he wanted to come over. Three little dots appeared and I watched as one after the other they danced back and forth until they disappeared. `He must've just read the text and left it open'. Then, I inhaled and prepared myself for the endless questions that Laura would have for me.