Tom Holland and I

By Andy Darko

Published on May 27, 2021

Gay

This story will contain sexual acts between two adult males. I am not, nor do I know the celebrities involved. I do not know their sexual preferences. If you are not of legal age, please direct yourself to another site. If you enjoy Nifty, please donate!

-------------------------------------------------- Tom Holland and I - Chapter 4B --------------------------------------------------

Previously:

"As soon as we crossed the threshold of the bar, I felt like a spotlight hit us. As it was still a little early, it was by no means packed but there were a fair few people about. One of the bartenders did a double take before not so discreetly grabbing his coworker's arm. An entire group of guys standing at a nearby table craned their necks. I felt my face get hot. Tom, however, just waved and uttered a small, "Hello!"..."

From the bar, a drag queen who could only be described as `statuesque' quickly sauntered over to us. She was a good four inches taller than me and I suspected it was due to the sparkling white stilettos she had on to compliment the also sparkling Union Jack leotard. The colors played off of her deep brown skin so well that I caught myself staring. Even with my background in the field, I was hard pressed to find a single flaw with her makeup. Ruby red lips, massive eyelashes and a contour that could cut diamond. Atop her completely bald head perched a tiny replica of the royal crown, skewed slightly to the left. I already adored her.

"Don't mind the vultures," she laughed, extending her bejeweled hand. "Dame Dina. It's a pleasure." Tom was smiling ear to ear, stunned by her visage. He snapped himself out his daze and took her hand in his. "Oh, yes. Um, I'm Tom."

"Yes, sweetie, I think everyone is aware of that," she chuckled. Her eyes fell on me and one perfect eyebrow raised. "Which must make you the one who dashed any hopes we lowly queers had of ending up with Spider-Man." My face grew even hotter as I took her hand and gently kissed the large ring. "Bashir. The pleasure is all mine." She made an appraising face before turning to Tom and stage-whispering, "I like him." Then, to both of us, "Welcome to our humble establishment. Now, if you'd like, there's an area on the other side of the bar that would afford you some privacy. I would be more than happy to be your guide."

Tom balked. "Oh, no, we don't want to cause a fuss." At this, Dina threw her eyes in my direction, clasped her hands together and then looked back at Tom with a dramatic sigh. "Tom. Do you know who you are? Your presence alone is about to cause a fuss. I'd wager that, within an hour or so, every gay from Shoreditch to Kensington will be here scrambling to catch a peek at you two. More than just a peek, if they had their wish. So, how about we skip the modest movie star schtick and you follow me, yeah?"

Tom stuttered through a few syllables before I wrapped my arm around his shoulders and answered for him. "We'd love to, thank you. After you." She turned on her heel and began guiding us through the crowd. Tom looked up at me bemusedly. "I didn't know what to say! Why didn't I know what to say? Oh, my god. I've embarrassed myself already."

"You're fine, baby," I laughed, giving him a supportive kiss on the forehead. As we rounded the bar and by the raised dais of a stage, I could see one of the bar staff moving hastily away from what I presumed to be the area Dina mentioned. It was a charming booth that could seat maybe six or so people. In the center, a low, rectangular table that afforded the freedom to move about within the booth. The entire set up was virtually arm's reach from the bar and prime seating for whatever took place on the stage. Around the front of the booth, and what I assumed the bartender had been setting up, were two stanchions and an actual velvet rope. We settled onto the plush seats, Tom and I on one side, Dina on the other.

"Now, call me opportunistic if you must, but I absolutely must ask a small favor while I have someone of your standing here."

Tom, who had been kneeling backwards on the seat and taking in the scene turned around. "A favor?"

Dina crossed her long legs and waved casually at someone greeting her. "Yes, we have a little drag show in a couple hours. Nothing too extravagant. Yours truly as the MC. Obviously, I don't want to encroach on your evening, but, if you happen to be around, would you be willing to join me onstage? Just for a moment. Help me with the birthdays and the like?"

Tom's smile could not have gotten any bigger. "Oh, absolutely! Yes! That sounds amazing!" Dina beamed at his response and sprung up from the seat. "Well, that is just fantastic! I can't wait to tell the girls! Oh, there's a private toilet down that hall as well as the staircase to the lounge upstairs and the club downstairs. Let's see, what else... ah! The ravaging redhead behind the bar is Alan. He'll come over and get your drinks for you. Just give him a wave and-,"

"Nope, nope. That is where I draw the line," Tom said suddenly. "We can walk two feet and order our drinks like everyone else."

Dina threw her hands up in surrender. "As you wish, my lord. If you need anything at all, don't hesitate to come find me. I'll be bandying about somewhere."

Tom launched himself toward the bar. "Oi, Dina! Can I get you a drink?"

She smiled warmly. "Five years sober, love, but I never turn down a sparkling water."

We got our drinks and decided to take a leisurely stroll around the venue. The club downstairs wasn't open just yet, so we made our way up to the lounge. It was very different from the main floor, set up with faux bookshelves and high-backed chairs around small tables. There were a few televisions placed around the room and I could imagine this was a popular place for soccer and rugby viewings. We milled around for a spell, then headed back downstairs and sidled up to the bar for another drink.

As was to be expected, plenty of people approached Tom to ask for a picture or just to say how much they enjoyed his films. Quite a few also mentioned his work with The Brothers Trust, the charity the Hollands ran. Tom was his usual self: welcoming, affable and energetic. I observed as he chatted animatedly with any and everyone who spoke to him, as if he had known them for years. An older couple that had been sitting nearby approached and told Tom how proud they were of him for coming out. At their words, he basically melted into a puddle. The two of them had been together for longer than both Tom or I had been alive and told us about having to love in secret, hiding from their families and finally choosing to live openly. I pondered what it would be like to be together as long as they had and tried to imagine Tom and I at their age. Before long, they left for the evening, giving us both very loving hugs. Tom rested his head on my shoulder for a bit, saying nothing, but obviously thinking the same things as I.

Dina had been correct in her prediction that Tom's presence would have an effect. Within an hour, the bar was markedly more packed. Subsequently, more people ended up meaning more drinks. Whether for flirtatious reasons or just out of goodwill, a good portion of the guys that we talked to offered us drinks. For the sake of coherency, we had to turn down a fair few. In turn, Tom would counteroffer to buy their libations. Despite our best efforts, we were feeling wonderfully tipsy by the time we made it back to the booth. I was in the middle of a rambling story that Tom had assuredly heard before when his gaze slid to my left, his brow furrowed and he suddenly jumped up.

I turned, scanning the crowd, but saw no one I recognized. "Bash! It's Vincent!" he said excitedly, waving his drink-free hand. Tom pointed in the general direction of the bar, but I was lost. "I have no idea who the hell you're talking about. Who is Vincent?"

"The waiter! From, you know... the place! Where we took Ami and Rutger!"

I finally picked him out, standing at the bar. He caught sight of Tom and mouthed, "Oh, hi!" as the bartender set down two drinks in front of him. As he handed over his card, Tom turned to me. "We should invite him over!" Without even waiting for a response, he started gesturing for Vincent to come over. He passed one drink behind him, then began weaving through the dense crowd. Vincent hugged Tom on arrival, then myself. "It's nice to see you both again! Incredibly sorry, but I don't think I got your name last time."

"Bashir and, don't worry about it. We were too busy harassing you to exchange names." Vincent flushed and chuckled. "Oh, god. I felt so terrible about the whole thing. I hope your friend wasn't too upset with me."

"That was my brother and he was fine," I replied, replaying the memory in my head. Vincent's eyebrows shot up, but before he could respond, a hand extended out from behind him. How I hadn't noticed the towering man behind him eluded me. He was easily six four and and built like a tank. Vincent leaned into him, taking a sip of his drink. "I'm so sorry. Tom, Bashir. This is my boyfriend, Joseph. Joseph, Bashir and Tom." I shook his hand, trying my best not to make it obvious as I looked him over. He had to be at least two hundred and sixty pounds of man, muscular with just a bit of a belly. His blonde hair was slicked back and his bright red beard was trimmed perfectly. From the bit of tuft peeking out over his tank top, the ginger was everywhere besides his head.

"Do you want to join us?" Tom asked, moving the rope. In typical British fashion, Vincent hesitated for politeness. "Are you absolutely sure? We don't want to be a bother."

"Sit, please!" Tom ushered them in. "Oh, babe, do you want another drink?"

"Sure."

He looked to our new friends. Joseph held up his full drink and declined. Vincent, however, threw his drink back in about two gulps. "Gin and tonic, if you will." Tom bound off to the bar as Joseph and I traded looks of amazement. Vincent looked at me sheepishly. "I haven't had a weekend off in ages. It's nice to be able to drink."

"No judgement from me. So, what do you do for work, Joseph?"

The burly man leaned forward and set his drink down. In a thick, Australian accent, he replied, "I'm an accountant." Once again, I must have been betrayed by my face because he laughed loudly. "I know. It's not really what people expect to hear. I played rugby from six until I graduated uni."

"Wow. Is that where you two met?"

They both chuckled and traded a look. "Um, no. I graduated in 2004."

"I'm sorry... how old are you?!"

Joseph ran a hand through his hair. "I'm thirty eight. Vincent's twenty six." My jaw actually fell as I processed the information. "Yeah, we usually get that reaction. The age difference isn't-,"

"I don't care about the difference! You're THIRTY EIGHT?!"

"Thank you for very much for the ego boost."

"Thank you for giving me something to aspire to," I replied with a laugh. "And, the Aussie genetics have absolutely nothing to do with it, I bet."

"Probably not," he snorted. "Nothing but a hole in the ozone and salt water for eighteen years."

"Speaking of genetics," Vincent started. "And, absolutely let me know if this question is inappropriate, but... you said the guy at breakfast with you was your... brother?"

I finished my drink just as Tom and Alan appeared, both with a drink in each hand. I thanked Alan as he set two down in front of me and Tom set his in front of our guests. Joseph looked stunned at the full cup in front of him as Vincent chuckled. "No, that's not inappropriate," I continued. "Yes, Ami and Rutger are my brother and sister. And, yes, Rutger and I are adopted."

Tom's face appeared over my shoulder. "Can I put your hair up?"

"Sure."

He went to work on gathering my hair, Joseph and Vincent looking on in amusement as the conversation continued. I found out that Joseph had moved to London with his company immediately after university and that the couple had met at this very bar. Vincent was working at the restaurant as a temporary income while finishing up his degree in veterinary medicine. On hearing this, Tom whipped out his phone and began scrolling through every picture of Tessa he had ever taken. It was almost a relief when Dame Dina strutted out on the stage to whoops and hollers.

"Yes, yes, it's me," she greeted, mimicking a perfect royal wave. "Glorious evening to all and welcome. For those of you who haven't had the pleasure of meeting me, I am your hostess, Dame Dina." Another loud round of applause. "Now, it's a Saturday night and I'm sure you're all here for a little social lubricant before you head downstairs and inexorably into further sin and depravity. That being said, we will keep tonight's show short and sweet. After a couple of little ditties, we do have two special guests that are very excited to join us onstage..." At this, she turned dramatically to Tom and I, complete with an exaggerated wink. "... to give us a hand with any celebrations we have in house. And, at that, I would like you all to welcome to the stage, my sister, your duchess, the woman who is hot to trot and shaped like a pot, Cuppa T.!"

Dina had obviously let the queens know that Tom was in house, because they all came out with brilliant song choices. The first queen, Cuppa, performed Mary Jane Holland' by Lady Gaga which sent Tom into hysterics. Dina herself took the opportunity to nestle in the booth with us and give a brief rundown of what she had planned for us. We were going to join her onstage and do a little trivia with a couple of celebrants. Nothing too personal, she assured us. Just random, vague questions. She paused to introduce the next queen who performed Superhero' by Cher Lloyd, then disappeared into the back. The third gave us a classic, I Need A Hero' by Bonnie Tyler. Dina rounded out the show with a personal favorite of mine, Spiderwebs' by No Doubt. She had made quite the costume change and emerged in shimmering white catsuit adorned with a rhinestone black widow across the torso and a mesh spiderweb cape behind her. On top of her head rested an entirely too realistic, fake tarantula. The entire bar was thunderous with applause and yells and snaps.

When the mic was handed back to Dina, she took a deep breath, patting the light sweat from her brow. "Ladies and gentlemen. Theydies and gentlethems, if you can't figure out who our guest is at this point, then I'm not quite sure what to tell you. He does, however, have his handsome beau with him, so don't get any of your lascivious hopes up. Please join me in welcoming Tom Holland and his stunning partner, Bashir!"

I felt a shy laugh leave my lips at the term `stunning' before taking Tom's hand and stepping onto the stage. He waved excitedly as the cellphone flashes began and someone handed us each a mic. Dina quelled the crowd with a hand before turning to us. I couldn't help but feel like we were on a talk show. "I promised I wouldn't embarrass you two, but obviously we couldn't be more excited that you're here."

"We're very happy to be here," Tom answered. "It's actually our first time here."

Dina turned to the audience. "I would make a virgin joke, but this is a family establishment and I am a respectable, real woman." She laughed at herself, as did the crowd. "So, Tom, we know all about you thanks to Wikipedia. Bashir, you're a mystery. What do you do for work?"

"I work in makeup and makeup effects for Marvel Studios."

"Ah! And, let me guess, that's how you two met?"

"Correct."

"And, how is my makeup?"

"Absolutely flawless."

"Perfect answer," she grinned as the patrons clapped in agreement. "Now, we all know that you two recently revealed your relationship to the public. How long have you been together?"

Tom curled his arm around mine and drew me close. "Next month will make four years." I felt the blood rise in my cheeks as everyone clapped and hollered. Dina only egged them on. "Four years! I couldn't keep a man for four months! Cheers, boys!" A warm feeling swelled in my chest as the bar raised their various cups and glasses to us. Tom rested his head on my shoulder and I turned to give him a tiny kiss on the forehead. "And, speaking of anniversaries, do we have any other celebrations in the house? Any birthdays, bar mitzvahs, graduations, bachelor parties... divorces?"

Through the commotion, Dina managed to pull two patrons onstage. "Okay, so give us your names, cause for celebration and your pronouns."

"I'm Pascal. He/him and it's my twentieth birthday."

"Hello, I'm Janelle. They/them and I'm here with my girlfriend, Regina. We're celebrating our one year anniversary."

Dina stepped into the center of the stage. "Fantastic! Pascal, Janelle, welcome and felicitations! We want to celebrate with you, of course, so we're going to play a little game with our guests. Tom and Bashir are going to stand on opposite sides of the stage..." She paused as Tom skittered in front of her. "... and I'm going to ask a few questions. Both of you will join whomever you think is the answer to said question and then the boys will raise their hand to confirm. Whichever one of you can get, let's say, five proper guesses will get a... 50 pound voucher for the evening. How's that sound?" They both bounced excitedly. "Wonderful! Let's get started. And, I'm just making these questions up off the top of my head so have a bit of patience. Question one: which of our two guests are older? I'll give you five seconds." After a moment's consideration, Pascal headed to me and Janelle to Tom. "All right, they've made their choices. "Gentlemen?"

Tom's hand shot up and Janelle celebrated. Next to me, Pascal groaned. "That's one for Janelle!" Dina announced. "Tom, how much older?"

"Five months," he chuckled.

"Everyone thinks I'm older because he plays such a convincing teenager," I shot, causing an eruption of "oohs" and laughter. Tom gawked at me, then squinted challengingly. "It's actually because of your crow's feet."

Dina shrieked as I nodded slowly, amused by our newfound onstage dynamic. "If you two want to actually make it to four years, we might want to take it easy," Dina said, clutching her breast. "Let's keep moving. Who... is the better cook?"

Janelle moved to me and Pascal stayed, bringing a look of betrayal to Tom's face. Dina looked expectantly and I raised my hand. "If I don't cook we have to get takeout," I grinned. Tom rolled his eyes, a surefire sign that he had no argument. Dina rolled right along. "Which one of the boys has more siblings?" Both contestants hesitated, then stayed next to me. "Boys?"

Tom raised his hand slowly, causing a sad groan from the room. Just as Dina opened her mouth, I also raised my hand. She did a double take, then placed her hand on her hip and looked back and forth between us. "Don't play games on my stage, you two."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Tom has three brothers, as everyone knows. I have two brothers and one sister."

"Well, then, it looks like both of our players got that one right by technicality! Janelle takes a lead at three to two! Only two more right answers and this could all be over!" The game continued with Dina asking whatever question popped into her head. Who was more organized (Tom), who had the most clothes (me), who was the better driver (also me), and so on. Within a few minutes, the score was tied at four with both Janelle and Pascal missing a couple questions completely. Tom and I were probably another full drink in as Dina stood between us, fingers pressed theatrically to her temple. "Look, this was supposed to be a right quick game and, if we're being honest, I've no idea what other questions to ask."

From somewhere in the room, someone yelled, "Who's the top?"

Before anyone could even say anything, Tom's arm shot out and he pointed directly at me. The bar absolutely exploded into a roar of applause and laughter. I felt the color rising in my cheeks as I crossed my arms and stared at the ceiling, unable to contain my grin. When I looked at Tom, he face was a moue of genuine innocence. He almost looked surprised by the reaction. "W... was I not supposed to answer that?" he asked me over the mic. When I didn't respond, he looked at Dina and cringed. "I don't think I was supposed to answer that. Might be in a bit of trouble."

Dina looked at me, dabbing tears out of her eyes with a napkin. "I think we should go ahead wrap this up. For your sake, Tom. I'm going to ask an easy one so we can be done with this. Which of-," She couldn't stop her laughter and turned to face the back of the stage. "I'm sorry. That has to have been the funniest moment I've ever had the privilege to take part in. Okay." She took a deep breath and turned back, taking her usual regal stance. "Which of the boys has been involved in more Marvel projects?" Pascal bolted to Tom and Janelle started to follow, then turned and sidled up next to me. "And, to decide the winner of that bar voucher... boys, if you will." I paused, tilting my head toward Tom. He, in turn, looked at me and pursed his lips. Dina's voice cut through the air. "Oh, quit milking it, you two. This isn't X-Factor."

I raised my hand.

Janelle threw their arms around me in excitement as the bar exchanged sounds of surprise. Dina strutted up next to us. "Janelle. Very excited for you. I will congratulate you in a moment." She made them take a step back and then placed a hand on my shoulder. "Can you explain how you've done more than THE Peter Parker? I and, undoubtedly, our fabulous patrons would all like to know."

"Well, including the next Spider-Man movie, Tom's done... six Marvel projects," I stated. "I've contributed to about... fifteen or sixteen. Counting a couple upcoming releases."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty four."

"In, what, six years of working, you've worked on SIXTEEN Marvel films?"

"No, some of those are television. And, I started with Marvel at sixteen, so... eight years?"

Dina sighed and looked at the audience. "Every answer leads to even more questions." Then, to me, "You were in high school when you first started working on films?"

"Oh, no. I was starting my third year of college."

"At age sixteen?!"

I could see Tom chuckling. "I started college at fourteen." Dina looked over her shoulder, then moved slowly to Tom's side. "Thomas."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Are you dating a certified genius?"

"Well, he hates that word, but yeah."

Dina cast one more look at me before turning to the audience. "Well, you heard it here first, gentlemen. We have absolutely zero chance of stealing Tom away, so pack it up." With a dramatic cape flourish, and with unending gratitude from me for taking the spotlight off of me, Dina moved between the contestants. "That being said, congratulations to Janelle for picking correctly. They will be getting a fifty pound voucher for the evening. Pascal, don't look so down! We've got a twenty five pound voucher for you as well. Happy Birthday to you, Happy Anniversary to Janelle and Regina! Off you go!" Both Tom and I gave them a hug before they descended into the throng. "And, of course, please, please, please thank Tom and Bashir for entertaining us this evening!" Tom and I framed Dina, arms around her waist, as we took in the applause. "Hopefully, they'll still be together tomorrow."

"Give us a kiss!" a voice called. Tom looked at me as if asking permission and I simply shrugged. He leaned forward and gave me a quick peck, which earned us a a cacophony of boos. Another voice, "Like you mean it!"

Emboldened by the numerous drinks, I handed Dina my mic, then grasped Tom around the waist with both arms and drew him into a very, very intimate kiss. I felt him relax into me and place his hands on my face, sighing deeply as our tongues dueled. Once again, the crowd whooped and yelled. When I finally released Tom, it was his turn to blush before he buried his face in my shirt. Dina cleared her throat. "Well... that was... do I need to submit a credit card to keep watching? Alan, give me one of the cards behind the bar." We all had a good laugh before exchanging a quick hug. "Once again, Tom and Bashir!" We all posed for a few pictures before Tom and I slid off the stage and back into the booth. He parked himself on my leg, happily accepting a drink from Joseph. Vincent slid one to me, a wide smile across his face.

"You two are an absolute riot," he said amusedly. "And, you actually graduated high school at, what, fourteen?"

"Thirteen. I didn't turn fourteen until a month after college started," I replied, placing my arm around Tom's waist. He had turned to our left and started a conversation with Joseph that I couldn't quite make out over the music. "And, I say this wholeheartedly, I don't like to make a big deal of it. I'm not like a quantum physicist or anything. I was just better at connecting the dots than most people around me."

Vincent looked at me incredulously. "You're being humble."

"No, seriously! Look, if someone has a natural proclivity for sports, they advance to the varsity team before everyone else. It doesn't mean that they're going to qualify for the Olympics or whatnot. They're just more advanced at the time. I don't think my achievements in school ten years ago define me as an adult."

"But they did get you to where you are," he replied. "In your career and, subsequently, your personal life. So... why play that down?" I squinted over my drink, causing Vincent to laugh. "I'm sorry. I'm being incredibly personal."

"You sure veterinarian is the job you want? Not a psychiatrist?"

"Ha! Now you sound like Joseph."

Dina eventually joined us, thanking Tom and I repeatedly for the night's antics. She apparently already knew Vincent and Joseph, as they lived nearby and were regulars. The five of us became a laughing, chattering spectacle as the time passed. We may have ordered some shots (a shot glass of seltzer for Dina) and taken more than a few selfies together. The boys invited Tom and I over for dinner the following week which we, unfortunately, had to turn down. I did exchange information with them in hopes of joining them whenever we made our way back to London. It was a nice change for me since all of the people we knew in the area were either Tom's friends or family.

At one point, Tom leaned forward, laughing with Dina and Joseph and my eye was drawn down to the top of his jeans. His shirt had come untucked and, in that position, the pants bulged just enough to expose an inch or so of lower back and, more importantly, the black and white waistband of a jockstrap. I discreetly checked to make sure Vincent wasn't paying attention. Then, in one swift movement, I reached down with my free hand, pulled the strap back about an inch, and let it snap against his skin. Tom's body jerked and he smacked my hand away before tucking his shirt into his pants. He turned, a wry grin on his flushed face, and whispered, "Stop it." I played his own card and stuck out my bottom lip. He shook his head, then leaned in for a kiss. "D'you wanna go soon?"

"Well, NOW I do," I chuckled. "Should I get the Uber?"

"Fifteen minutes? So we can say our goodbyes? And close the tab."

Dina looked at us curiously. "What are you two conspiring about over there?"

Tom turned, planting his ass right on my crotch. Intentionally, I assumed. "Our escape," he replied slowly. All three of the others protested. "You're not coming down to the club later?" she asked. "It opens in like half an hour!"

"Unfortunately, no. We've got a long ride home and we still have some packing to do before we fly out on Monday."

Dina stood and held out her arms. Tom jumped up to hug her and I did the same. "Well, I'm glad to have met you both and look forward to seeing you again." She disengaged and looked to Vincent and Joseph. "Do I at least get to keep you two or are you leaving as well?"

"Fuck that, we're staying."

Dina chuckled, then drew us in for another hug. As we said our goodbyes to her, Alan appeared, card and receipt in hand. "You guys looked like you were leaving. I didn't want you to have to fight to the bar."

"Oh, gosh, thank you!" Tom glowed.

"And... admittedly, I wanted to ask if I could bother you for a picture? My husband and I are huge Marvel fans." Tom obviously obliged, then thanked the redhead with a hug. Tom signed for the drinks and handed the receipt to Alan. As he walked away, I saw Tom's eyes linger. I gave him a playful swat on the butt which made him turn. He grinned. "What?"

"Yeah, I am getting you home post haste."

Joseph and Vincent traded hugs with us. I was absolutely sure that we would meet up with them whenever we got back to London and part of me was dismayed that we hadn't gotten to know them earlier. However, we had their information and I assured them that we would be reaching out to set up a dinner or a night out. In between pictures and promises of drinks to be had, I set up the Uber. It was only a few minutes away, so we started to head out. Dina dropped the rope and demanded that we let her walk us out. With one more farewell to the guys, we followed in her footsteps, the crowd parting like the Red Sea to let her by.

Between Tom and Dina's socializing, we made it outside just as the car pulled up. We both embraced Dina again and slid into the backseat. We pulled off and I put my arm around my love, definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol. Tom affectionately pressed into me and rested his arm on my leg. With his free hand, he scrolled through the myriad of pictures we had taken throughout the evening. I popped open one of the complimentary bottles of water, taking a long sip before handing it to Tom. As he shifted his weight, my hand fell behind him. I traced my fingertips over his back as he downed the bottle. Our driver must have heard the bottle crackle and held a hand over a shoulder to take it, then told us to have as many as we'd like. Tom thanked her and leaned forward to grab another.

As he moved, my hand dropped even further and I slipped my fingers just below Tom's waistband. He jumped slightly, then relaxed into my shoulder. I pushed my hand a little further, struggling against the taut fabric. Tom cocked his hips to the side as he took another sip of water, then asked, "Can I ask you to turn the music up just a bit? I really like this song."

"Of course."

As she reached for the radio, Tom's free hand moved and I felt his pants loosen. I smiled to myself. Little fucker had undone the button on his jeans so I would have more room and, on top of that, covered up any potential noise. I said nothing, but leaned my head on his while simultaneously sliding my hand into his pants until my middle finger came in contact with his hole. He shuddered and I felt the vibration of an almost imperceptible moan.

My mind flashed back to the week prior when I had fingered Tom while driving down the highway. I wanted to reenact it all: Tom's legs splayed open, him half naked and moaning wildly. But, this was not our car and we definitely weren't alone. So, I held back from actually entering his inviting ass and just ran my finger across it ever so gently. That little movement was more than enough to excite both of us. I had been fighting back my own libido since the onstage kiss partially because we were in public and partially because I had opted out of underwear that night. In the passing streetlights, I could just make out the outline of my own growing erection down my right thigh, inches away from Tom's hand.

The drive was a long one, maybe half an hour or so, and pretty quiet. Tom and I were both extremely tipsy and had been yelling over the music for hours. But, even though we weren't talking, my hand was speaking volumes. I was intent on railing Tom as soon as we got into the house. When he was inebriated, our sex was wild. We we were BOTH inebriated, it was downright animalistic. By the time we crossed the Thames, I was having a difficult time controlling myself. I was kneading Tom's ass with my hand, enjoying the feel of his plump cheek while simultaneously grazing his sensitive hole with my little finger. He was squirming from the sensations and I could almost feel him biting back his whimpers.

We were only a few minutes from the house when I gave up. I moved my hand just a bit, cupping both cheeks, and slowly pushed my middle finger into Tom. Just up to the first knuckle. His entire body tensed and he turned his head, burying his face in my chest. To the driver, it probably looked like he was falling asleep, but I knew the truth. He was trying his damndest not to make any noise. As we turned onto our street, I shoved my entire finger into him, wiggling it slightly for good measure. Tom's head popped up and he pulled me into an uncharacteristically aggressive kiss. I was surprised by the passion behind it and caught myself mid-moan. We separated as we pulled into the drive and Tom's face was thrown into light. His eyes were full of lust, as usual, but they were also full of intent and focus. He bit his bottom lip, puffy from our quick make out, and gave me an extremely primal stare. As the driver put the car in park, Tom blinked and it was like that beast had disappeared.

"Thank you so much for the ride," he said politely, sounding more like the Tom in press junkets than the sexually frenzied man I had just been fingering. "We really appreciate it!" He slid out of the car, discreetly untucking his shirt and covering his undone pants. I tumbled out behind him, giving the driver a wave as I closed the door. Tom already had the keys and the door and swung it open, basically dragging me inside. The literal second I locked the door, he whipped me around, shoved me against the door and pressed his lips to mine. I held his face in my hands, groaning appreciatively as our tongues dueled. His hands gripped my shirt, trying to pull us impossibly closer together. I could feel his cock mashed up against mine and it was maddening...


Thanks for reading! As always, feel free to e-mail me and let me know what you think, what you would like to see or even if you just want to say thanks or anything!

NiftyAndyDarko@gmail.com

Next: Chapter 6


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