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*********** WHEN I GET HOME
We first hooked up in a club a couple of years ago. New York is a big city with a lot of people and lots of places to hang, but there are always those favorite places that you like to go, especially down in the Village. He and I seemed to be regulars at a couple of the same haunts, places that made each of us feel comfortable, I guess. I had been watching him for a few months, I know that sounds a bit creepy but you know what I mean. You run into the same people all the time and while you may not know who they are, or even their names, you still recognize them. You find yourself nodding a "hey", noticing what they're wearing, or if they're with the same people.
The first thing I noticed about him were his eyes. Large, pale blue-grey. They always looked like they were laughing. And with tall flat eyebrows, long lashes providing definition, his eyes really stood out. At least they did to me. Then again, I was a sucker for his smile, too.
I had always seen him with a bunch of really chiseled guys. I'm talking A&F quality. You could tell they spent a lot of time at the gym, though obviously a different one from mine because, trust me, I was watching. Their bodies were tight, not overly bulked, just built up in all the right places, all those yummy vanity muscles. Faces were perfect with that hint of scruff everyone loves these days. Hair was gelled with product and spiked perfectly. The others usually dressed exactly like you're thinking, tight jeans, short-sleeved button-downs, open at the front, sometimes draped over plain t-shirts, sometimes missing the tee. On the other hand, he chose different. He was a bit shorter than most of his friends, maybe five ten, so who knows if he was trying to stand out. He always seemed to be wearing ripped jeans with a form-fitting tee, usually white, maybe a size smaller than you would think. He was clean shaven, kept is hair really short, a lot of the time in a buzz cut. I'm guessing he wanted to emphasize everything else. And there certainly was something worth showing. Well-defined broad pecs with nipples spread wide, upper arms that stretched the sleeve openings on his shirts, nicely rounded shoulders. You could even make out the ridges of his abs on his torso if he was wearing a t-shirt with lycra instead of just cotton. Okay, yes, I looked a lot.
One Friday night I was with a couple I knew, just relaxing after a stressful week. We saw him walk in with three of his regular buddies, watched as they trailed past our table scoping out the crowd. When he passed, he happened to look down and the corner of his mouth turned up, just a little. You can imagine a wink, a raised eyebrow or something else but it was just a little hint, nothing more. He and his friends parked themselves at a corner of the bar a short distance away where the three of us were able to watch surreptitiously. Unfortunately, we were being less subtle than we thought because he caught me looking several times.
He was sitting on the first seat around the corner from where we were. I could see his entire right side, from the top of his dirty blond locks to the white high-top that was bouncing on the railing of the stool in time to the music. The rip on the side of the thigh was impressive enough that it made me think of that line, "hot night wind was blowing, ripped jeans skin was showing." His drink was near his left hand so he kept gesturing with the right, patting his friend on the shoulder, flexing his bicep. I could dream.
When he caught me I tried to turn away quickly to prove I wasn't a stalker but one time, he just held my gaze and ever so slightly tipped his drink towards me. The next time he caught me, he brought his right hand up to scratch at his chest, although I thought I noticed him delicately start circling his left nipple with his middle finger. Obviously the friend with his back to us noticed this as well because this guy reached up and started rolling the right nipple between thumb and index finger which brought laughs from everyone.
Busted. My friends and I laughed along. My friends had been together for a couple of years so they weren't looking but were always trying to encourage me to be a little bolder, go after what I wanted. They knew I was interested in him, they had seen me checking him out in the past. We had had conversations about how you approach someone who is drop-dead gorgeous without coming across as a complete bumbling idiot. After the nipple laugh, I went to the men's room, walking right past him without looking.
After taking care of business, I basically slapped my face with hands still covered in cold water. I then raked my fingers back through my hair while staring at myself in the mirror. Wondering how much of an idiot I was being, I tried to see what he might see. I think of myself as kind of plain. Brown hair styled shorter on the sides, pumped up and a bit messy on top. A slightly longer oval face, with light brown eyes that some guy once told me looked golden in the right light, but he so wanted to sleep with me that I was unable to believe anything he said. I've got thin curved brows arching nicely that I keep neatly trimmed. A simple nose, just a regular, kind of small mouth, all surrounded by a clean face. Most people tell me I have a killer smile, my defining feature, although in here tonight I rank second at best. I'm a little over six foot, but rather than bulking up, I prefer to keep a thin runner's frame, lean and defined, that I can showcase in tapered designer shirts to accent the v-shape down to a nice narrow waist. If you have to make a comparison of body type, he's kind of a Derek and I'm more of a Stiles, with better clothes.
When I came back out there were shots of liquid courage on the table waiting for me. Two of them. I gave my best aw-shucks smile to the guys and wrapped two fingers around the first one. As I held the glass in front of me for a toast, I glanced up to the bar and he was watching me this time, so I tipped the shooter towards him and them downed it. Nice and smooth, I smiled to myself, one of the guys giving me a slap on the shoulder. Then I think I surprised all of us because I patted my friend's thigh and moved to get up from the table again. They both looked at me, started grinning wide.
Yes, I walked over to the corner of the bar with a little trepidation but what the hell. One of his friends obviously saw me coming because he elbowed him sharply. He looked up at the last second, right at me with a crooked smile that brought out creases on his cheeks. When I asked if he wanted to dance, nodding my head towards the floor, I heard a couple of snickers, and a cough. But when he scrunched his mouth to one side, still smiling, and his eyes lit up, I could have cared less because that warm feeling I had inside was even better than the shot. As we walked away, I heard a low ooooo coming from one of his friends, and golf claps from my table.
Walking towards the floor, I turned my body sideways to sidle past a couple of burly guys in vests who were blocking the aisle. As I did, I felt him catch my hand. I squeezed lightly, pulling him with me. He didn't let go.
We danced a couple of songs, grinning stupidly at each other. Me being that couple of inches taller, he kept looking up at me through his lashes. I found myself watching is face, round, a bit flat with a nose that might have been too large up close but looked perfect sitting on top of his big pouty lips. He had a strong jaw line ending in a squared-off chin, no dimple or cleft, but you could imagine one. A look of mock seriousness ran across his face at his own moves as he danced closer. I could feel his hips rocking as the crowd pushed in on us, more swaying back and forth than anything else. At one point he was obviously pushed from behind, almost falling into me. His hands grabbed my waist to steady himself, one of them staying there after he had rebalanced. His touch was electric. When I realized he wasn't letting go, I draped my opposite wrist over his shoulder. He then pulled me a little closer leaving very little space between us. The heat started rising, and through my shirt I could feel his thumb sliding gently up and down.
When the DJ played something neither of us particularly cared for we both shook our heads and made to leave the floor. He grabbed my hand again, pulled me towards the bar at the opposite end of the club from where our friends were sitting. I bought us drinks and we stood with elbows on the bar chatting aimlessly about how we each got to New York among other things. Finishing my second drink, I turned to put my glass back on the bar just as a new song started pumping out. I heard a "hell yeah" and turned back in time to see him drain his glass, practically throwing it at the bartender. He grabbed my arm to pull me in, gave me a quick peck on the cheek, and led the way back to the dance floor.
Apparently a lot of other people liked the same song because the floor filled up quickly. We were pushed closer together, getting bumped from all around, I felt someone thrust up behind behind and just shook my head with a snicker. With so many people our arms were at our sides and I felt more than one hand grope my ass. Soon, however, I noticed his hands were starting to undo the buttons at the bottom of my shirt. When he got halfway up, he stopped and slipped his hand inside. I felt his fingertips begin to trace lines around my abs, circling my belly button, rising up to a nipple. I started to melt, my expression changing to one of rapture I'm sure. Then he went a bit lower with one hand, running across the light treasure trail I let grow, just down to the line at the top of my jeans, fingers slipping inside the belt line to the second knuckle, all completely obscured by the tails of my shirt.
I raised one of my arms up onto his shoulder again, running fingers through the hair on the back of his head. Since we were going into fall I guess he had decided to let it grow out a bit. This version was really sexy on him, a little wavy at the edges with just enough bounce to make it look fun, and plenty for me to muss with. My other hand came up to his waist.
As we continued to gyrate to the music, I stared laughing with glee. His eyes were really alive now and smiling up at me. Again he gave me that crooked grin that raised up a corner of his mouth. I leaned in for what should have been a whisper into his hear but I had to almost yell to be heard, wish I could remember what I said, because he roared back with laughter, his free hand grabbed me by the waist, my skin on fire where he was touching. His whole face lit up like the sun, wide creases and high cheeks surrounding that bright white smile.
As we continued, he closed his eyes every once in a while, just swaying with the music, taking my hips on a journey. I felt drops of sweat beginning to run down my chest, he soon found them, started pushing them around. I could feel the heat coming off his body too, see the dampness around his neck, wanted to lick around his collar. Once when he opened his eyes, I stared intensely straight back, biting my bottom lip. Raising one eyebrow, he tipped his head to the side as an invitation so I leaned in, his lips met mine in a very eager kiss while the hand still grabbing the edge of my jeans yanked me into him hard. My dick responded immediately, forcing its way to the side. I could feel him, covered in denim, but fairly impressive none the less, sliding slowly up and down in the crease between my balls and the inside of my thigh. Then he pulled his hand out, reached up to place it on top of mine that was in his hair, slowly pulled it down over his chest as he spun seductively in front of me. All of a sudden, he had one hand on top of mine squeezing his pec with his ass riding slowly up and down and all around on my crotch.
Do I have to tell you we left shortly after that?
For some reason I was thinking about that night when I landed earlier this afternoon. Even though it was Friday in September and a lot of people would have headed out of the city already, after three days away I knew there would be too many things piling up on my desk so I went directly from the airport to the office. People always have a way of wanting you when you're tied up elsewhere, or does that only apply at work. Maybe that's wishful thinking on my part but I was certainly hoping he was wanting me while I was away, and wondering what awaited me when I got home.
When I was finally able to slip out, the crowds were crazy with Friday afternoon traffic. Living in the city you sort of get used to lots of people being around, but there are certain days when they seem to overwhelm the sidewalks. This afternoon the beautiful weather drew out anyone that was left. With my carry-on in tow I decided to grab a ride, could only imagine what the subway was like. Then when I got a couple of blocks from home traffic just stopped, so I told the driver I would walk the last bit.
I strolled down the rest of the block, enjoying the feeling of being outside and looking forward to a weekend of freedom. I almost stopped at the local market to pick up some things for a surprise but thought better. Screw it. We're gonna go out and have fun tonight.
I nodded at a couple of friends who were sitting on a bench. They seemed to be engrossed in a conversation but I could tell they were watching all the boys as they passed. I'll bet their serious talk was about which ones they had done and which ones they were still after. Then one of them looked up at me with raised eyebrows and tipped his head, pointing down the block.
And there he was, ahead of me in an opening in the crowd. He was easy to spot, or at least I thought so, even from the back. He was wearing his favorite muscle shirt, green with dark piping around the arm holes, and a pair of loose fitting shorts that swayed magnificently as he walked. He claims that the shirt hides the pounds he's put on since we've been together but still allows him to show off the guns he's so proud of. If he's put on weight, I have no idea where it is because after two years, I think he still looks perfect. But the shirt has become one of my favorites anyway.
He looked like he was heading towards our place with a little bounce. Maybe it was the walk that helped me recognize him. He wasn't quite strutting, but you could tell he was showing off. Hell, why not. He's still worth showing off. He likes to flirt and I've often wondered if anything has ever gotten more serious than that but I'm not the jealous type and I trust him. I have to travel a lot so he could be using my absences as a good excuse, but he's always been there when I've returned. Maybe I'm being a little paranoid this time since we did have a small disagreement before I left. The dark part of my brain is obviously worried that he's flaunting himself to attract someone new.
When he turned onto 18th Street I lost sight of him. I picked up the pace a little, hoping to catch him before he got to our door. As I approached the corner, I thought maybe I'd find him talking to a neighbor on the street so I could sneak up behind and grab that perfect little ass, but he was gone. There was no way he could have made it to the stairs without running but the block was empty. Okay, I thought to myself. Are you that desperate after three days away that you imagined him? I kept on walking. I'd be home soon enough, then we'd see who was desperate.
I carried my bag up the stairs to the building, fumbling for the keys. Once inside, I grabbed the mail from the box and trudged up to the third floor. My anticipation sagged as I realized the lights were out and he might have been going to the gym. I was getting home earlier than I had told him I would.
Once I closed our door, dropping keys and mail on the table in the hall, I called his name wishing again that he was actually home. Praying that he was home. I needed to see him. All I got in return was silence.
Then I heard movement around the corner. As I started down the short hallway past the kitchen I called out again.
"In here."
I entered the living room to find him stretched out on the couch. He had his hands above his head, one holding the pillow and the other in his hair, bulging out his biceps so deliciously. That muscle shirt I thought I had imagined was pulled most of the way up revealing that beautifully hairless chest and quarter-size nipples. I could see the light tufts in his pits. I just stopped for half a second to breathe in the sight. God, he was still fantastic.
Gone were the shorts. Instead, leopard print silk boxers were pulled half-way down his thighs and his hardening dick was pointing directly at his creased abs, bouncing with his heartbeat as it lengthened. His balls hung down loosely. His stomach was moving in and out with short breaths. On that chiseled face was a wicked version of his usual grin. And those incredible eyes were indeed laughing at me.
"Hi."
"Welcome back," he responded with a husky voice.
He must have seen me, sprinted all the way down the block and up the stairs to get those boxers on in time. All I could do was drop the bag off my shoulder as I shuffled forward two steps to fall to my knees in front of the couch, catching my hands on the edge of the cushion. He leaned up to fold his arms around my neck, pulled me down. I moved one hand behind his head and the other flat on his chest. The kiss was long, slow and incredibly wet, his tongue snaking into my mouth with excitement.
"Oh god I needed that."
When I pressed my lips back into his, my hand slid down his chest, tracing light patterns across his belly like he had done on that first night. My hand then continued further down and grabbed his rather rigid pole. I gently began a slow stroking motion as I released his mouth. I placed a light kiss on his chin, then one on his neck near his adam's apple. Then I licked inside the hollow just below that for which I received a low moan in response. I slid my tongue down his chest, across one fabulous pec to his left nipple. My hand started sliding easier on his dick as he released a large amount of pre-cum, he must have been thinking about this while he was running up here. I began swirling around his nipple, teasing it to attention, and when I nibbled lightly with my teeth I felt him push up with his back, a new glob of pre-cum rising up under my thumb rubbing around his head.
"So good," he rumbled.
After a few minutes, I moved my mouth to his other nipple to give it the same attention and felt him drop his right arm. He tried to undo my belt but gave up due to the awkward position, instead settling for sliding his hand over my crotch, squeezing my own hard tool that was dying to be released. He rubbed up and down my length with his thumb, working me good and I could feel a nice wet spot starting in my boxer briefs. His fingers began tickling my balls through the fabric. If he kept this up too long, I felt I might explode before we got where we wanted. I didn't realize I was that worked up.
I then moved further down. My hand guided his dick to my mouth and I sucked in. He's cut and the crown is larger than the shaft at the top, and he's got one of those heads that curves outward sharply at the bottom, like those old German helmets. It feels so good when it pushes through, stretching things little by little as it goes, and then allows any opening to clap closed around it after it passes. I teased him, moving really slowly, keeping heavy pressure on my lips, squeezing his head but forcing it to push my lips apart, using the tip of my tongue to lap at all the liquid goodness that had been collecting. He moaned appreciation and I felt his hand relax a little when my lips passed the edge of his glans and clamped down on his shaft, my whole mouth hoovering his head now. With his cock secure in my mouth, I moved my right hand to his balls for a little fondling of my own, rolling them softly, tugging a little. I brought my left hand down from his head and started pinching his nipples to keep them hard. Pulling up his balls a little, with my index finger I then began tracing lines back and forth across the ridge of his taint dropping lower each time. I then pushed his boxers below his knees and he wiggled his legs to get them further down and off one foot. He lifted his left leg onto the back of the sofa and pulled up his right knee, pushing it into my side.
"Mmmmm. That's really good," he groaned. My mouth was still full or I might have agreed.
With that I sank all the way down on him, burying my nose in his hairs, breathing in the musk, milking him with the muscles in my throat.
"Oh god. I'm going to lose it."
My hand had come back up to his ass, whether sweaty from what we were now doing or from him sprinting before I couldn't tell, but was that important? I slid my middle finger through the hairs in his crease a couple of times to coat them and then searched for his hole. He inched his thighs even wider, knowing what I was looking for, trying his best to help. I could feel him shivering as he continued to moan lightly but I heard him catching shorter breaths, gasping in pleasure. I felt his cock start to pulse in my throat and knew he was close already. When my finger found his hole, I circled it around gently a couple of times, just to tease him, before I slowly pressed in. He raised his chest up and I heard him gasp.
"Ahhh. Stop!...stop, not yet."
I released his dick from my mouth quickly while he lowered himself back down onto the couch, working to catch his breath. He was hoping to make this last but I now knew exactly where I was going. While my finger continued probing slowly in and out, I slobbered my tongue and licked up the side of his dick noisily. I paused when I reached that really sensitive spot on the underside where the crown splits and flashed my tongue a couple of times. Then I popped the head inside again quickly, swirling around the whole crown, seeing if I could get inside his piss slit. Really sucking hard. He moaned once more as I began circling my finger inside, searching. I dropped him out of my mouth and tongued back down his dick towards the base. His balls had pulled up tight so I began licking them away, the way you lick an ice cream cone to stop it from dripping, planting soft kisses too. I pulled one nut into my mouth, swirling it around gently, let it fall out. Then the next. He kept taking jagged breaths, letting out little moans of pleasure before he exhaled.
I went back up his dick with my tongue then dove down deep on him once again, squeezing his nipple hard, twisting as I did, causing his leg to twitch. I looked up at his face to see his head tilted back, eyes closed, mouth moving uncontrollably, really short breaths. He started writhing on the couch when I found that right spot which I then rubbed just a little roughly. I raised my head up to his crown just in time, and felt the first blast of salty gooeyness hit the roof of my mouth as he let out a loud garbled grunt.
Now that's the nicest kind of welcome when I get home.