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Welcome back to another chaptered story. This takes place in the same continuity of my previous story, 'Racing Into the Night', and occurs within the same family. You don't need to have read that story before starting this one. I am pleased to say that this story does have a happy ending...but we have to work hard to get there, first.
- Readerguy
When Morning Comes Chapter 1 - Oblivion
Watching the diner's door closely, I watched for the huge, looming form of my Tito Jonathan. When he crossed into frame, I pounced on him, catching him unawares. My uncle let out a deep grunt, putting a hand on my shoulder to steady himself while I just tossed him a broad grin.
"Nate!" he said with his softly annoyed smile. "Careful, dude. I've been on my feet all day. I'm about ready to keel over."
The scene in the diner in the mid-winter was busy, with people meandering in and staying in to find shelter from the falling January snow. I had been waiting for my uncle to get off work so he could pick me up on the way home. Today, I was meant to help him set up his furniture in his new apartment.
"Goddamn, old dude," I said with a puff of air as we sat down. "You sure you're going to be able to lift a single box today?" He shot me a dangerous look over his glasses while he unfolded a menu.
"You wanna run your mouth like that while free lunch is still on the table?" I rolled my eyes at him, waving him off. "I thought so. Brat." I stuck my tongue out at him. That was my relationship with my Tito Jon.
We had grown close in the six years since I'd come out--and the two years since he had, too. Mom and dad had silently since re-adopted him as an unofficial older brother to me. Perhaps it was part of the outpouring of pity they held for him since his explosive divorce, which coincided with his coming out.
I didn't really know the details of that, though, and I never asked, either; he didn't want to tell me anything, so I didn't pry. I was just there to move some boxes. And to get some free lunch. We ordered, and when it came, I tucked in right away, to the sounds of my uncle's conversation. We went up and around all manner of topics, and eventually, we landed on the topic of--drumroll please--men.
"Your boyfriend you used to have," he muttered, his eyes full of curiosity. "Nick? What'd he do again?"
"Oh, Niki?" I wanted to roll my eyes. "Guy who cheated on me while we were in the Philippines for Lolo Max's funeral? Nothing major." Tito Jon winced.
"Fuuuuuck. That bad?" He went back to digging at his fries. "Sorry to open that wound again...."
I shrugged. "It's nothing, honestly. Dude, like, a month after he confessed to it.... Like, yeah, I was sad, but I was back on the apps. `Cause what was I gonna do? Just be sad about it? Fuck no, man."
Tito Jon smiled helplessly. "I don't know how you millennials do that shit so easily," he murmured. "Maybe I'm just too old for all of that...that app stuff. I mean...I'm just so tired and old."
"Can't speak for all of my generation, but I know how I do it: hella fuckin' easy!"
Niki Janetschek Niki Janetschek (8:34): hey. sorry to be bugging you rn. (8:36) are you home? just wanna talk. (8:51) can you look at your phone nathan please?
What an annoying message to have to address while I was already getting head, from someone who definitely wasn't my now-ex-boyfriend. He didn't have the decency to let me just forget about him and try to move on in the new best way I knew how: casual sex with strangers.
The first new mouth around my cock since my breakup was attached to some guy who was bunched up on my car floor. I stretched out in the backseat. Washed in a deep shadow of a brand new construction project in the suburbs, I could barely see, but I could feel him and hear him. He gagged thirstily on my cock, the familiar sound filling the air in my car. My windows fogged up while I ran my hand through his curly hair.
"So fucking good," I moaned like I wasn't just a little bit pissed off about the message. I concentrated on how good he was making my dick feel. And he was making it feel real good.
"You like it?" he asked, a coy giggle coming into his voice. "I like your cock. Really like your cock." For good measure, he stroked me up, then down, his cute chubby fingers not quite closing around my fat, seven-inch shaft. I could feel my precum squeezing out of me, and he lapped it up.
I moaned as I felt him roll my nuts around in one wide, warm palm. I felt my belly shake with the flush of pleasure that spread from my cock. My thighs were becoming sweaty while he worked on me. Reaching up, I kneaded my chest, my firm tits while he sucked. I was on cloud fucking nine.
Not that I hadn't been in at least some kind of delirium every day the whole week. In between being high as often as I could be, and now reinstalling a hookup app and using it, I didn't have time to feel like a regular person. One with feelings that weren't pure pleasure, or deep, forgetful oblivion. Shit felt incredible--it had to. My hedonistic era was going real well so far. Or it should've been.
`Message from Niki Janetschek.' Man, shut the fuck up.
"Who keeps messaging you?" he mumbled when he pulled off my cock for a moment. Instead of sucking, he stroked, and the wet slapping sound was music to my ears.
"Someone else from Growlr," I lied with an irritated sigh. "Slept with him once."
Stroke, stroke. "Ah." And he just went back to sucking. At least someone here understood it. I put my hand back where it belonged on the back of his head, and I felt his wide tongue stroke against my sensitive cock. Numbly, I surrendered myself to the feeling of this head job. Pleasure swam in my head, filling the cracks that anxiety was leaving behind.
The only sounds in my car for the next few minutes were moaning, wet slurping and the telltale sound of jacking off, interrupted at times by my phone vibrating. It got so annoying I just stuck the thing in the fucking front seat. I was determined to get my shit off with this guy.
I had parked my car in a dark, in-development area of his neighbourhood; the deep, inky shadows provided the perfect cover for this hookup. I revelled in the feeling, enjoying the newness of having a different mouth on my hefty meat. I thought it was a nice little treat after a breakup. My eyes adjusted somewhat to the gloom, and I reached out to touch him.
"You're fucking amazing," I purred, stroking his soft, round cheek. I couldn't really see shit; his round, moon-like face was a swatch of blue in the shadow. He moaned, panting his approval. The truth was, he was just decent--but a bad blowjob is still better than no blowjob, if you were asking me. I could feel his arm shaking against my leg; he was jacking off.
He had shown me his adorable, short but fat cock in pics. His round, perfect ass. Hell, I wished I was fucking him right now. I wanted to make him moan like a bitch; fill my head with just his sounds. Become lost in them. That was everything I needed.
"God, what a nice cock," he moaned, the choke of heightened arousal coming into his voice. Then, he said the most beautiful of phrases: "Please fuck me?"
"You want me to fuck you, baby?" I purred, stroking his cheek. And he nodded, slurping at my cock as he went. I felt myself drip at the memory of the beautiful hole he'd shown me. He groaned around my stiffness, and slurped on my shaft, hard. He tightened his lips, suctioning me like a vacuum. "My car's small though. How can we do this?"
"Outside?" he suggested, his breath hot against me. "Nobody lives around these houses yet. Construction's gone for the day."
Fuck yeah. My smile went wide, and I leaned in to kiss him, tasting myself on his mouth. Sweat, toothpaste, weed, and dick. Cool air rushed in as I opened the side door above my head, practically spilling out. The few stars in the sky were blotted out by clouds and the city's haze of lights. We manoeuvred out of the backseat--me with my pants still around my ankles--and soon I had him lined up against the door.
"Fuckin' look at that," I growled against his ear, pressing a fat finger against his winking hole. He had come pre-lubed, like a proper bitch. He knew exactly what he wanted tonight. "You were ready for this. You're gonna take my fat dick."
Once I'd gotten a condom and some lube on myself, I used the remainder of my lube to squeeze my fingers inside him. Slowly, slowly, but fuck me--I was real impatient. First one, then two of my thick digits were spreading his hole. At the start, he fought me--probably instinctually--the shock of being outside in the cool night keeping him sober. But I leaned in, my fingers in his hole and my cock against his cheek. He melted in my grip.
"You wanna get fucked?" I whispered to him, pressed against his back. He nodded, his breath forming clouds against my car's window. Seeking his depths, my fingers navigated his hole; the effort made him pant and groan. Music to my ears. I kissed the back of his neck; cooling sweat met my lips.
"Please put it in me," he whined, reaching backwards to push my body deeper into him. He couldn't reach around both of us; two perfectly hefty men about to fuck like animals in the wide open world. All pretences of teasing were gone.
I lined my sheathed cock up against his hole, feeling around for the familiar sensation of the entrance. A choking sensation came up unbidden in my throat, but I willed it away and sank in.
"Oh fuck!" His tunnel closed around my cock so insistently, with such intense warmth. The feeling was both familiar, loved, and at the same time, foreign. Three, four, six, then seven inches in, and I bottomed out in him.
He panted, letting his hole adjust to my intrusion, like he was kissing my cock. Curiously detached, I watched him surrender to the feeling; his face became contorted in a look of painful pleasure. I wondered what bottoming was like, for just a second; then I pulled back slowly and sank into him again. A loud groan bubbled out of him. Fuck, did he ever sound good.
"So cute," I murmured. My voice felt like it was coming from somewhere beside me. I lost a long minute or so inside of him, letting his tight hole become used to me. My cock twitched against his guts, revelling in the sensation. Soon enough, I felt him relax a bit. I started moving.
"Whoa," he groaned; "slow down. I'm not used to it yet."
"Shit, sorry, dude." Oddly enough, a vague annoyance flashed across my mind. The fuck he meant he wasn't ready? Then I realised he was only the first new guy I was fucking, after years of fucking the same person. Ugly thoughts for an ugly state of mind.
"Okay," I conceded; "you move when you're ready. Sound good?"
He whimpered his assent...then took the lead and started grinding his cheeks against my groin. A gasp of pleasure escaped me, feeling my cock dance around inside his tunnel. He started riding me standing, slowly, but surely sliding down the sensitive ridges of my cock with his hole. Felt fucking incredible, feeling his tight passage loosen around me. Long minutes passed; no longer able to stand it, I grabbed his hips.
"You're a fucking tease," I growled into his ear before pulling back and fully thrusting in again. "Come on, bitch. Take my cock."
At the feeling of the penetration, he groaned under me, his voice ripping out of his throat as I sank fully in. I matched his rhythm, continuing to roll his hips myself the way he'd been doing it. At first he let me take control, and soon enough, he joined me in the dance. Fuck! That felt fucking great.
I came close to cumming a few times. His hole was greedy, clenching around me; he raised and lowered his beautifully huge ass to try and get my cock from different angles. All the while, I fucked him like I was trying to break down my car door. My cock was weeping precum, begging to burst.
"Daddy," he almost squealed, his voice strained. "Please fuck me, daddy."
Daddy? What a weird thing to say. Not that it was something I was against, it just didn't exactly do anything for me. But hey, if he liked it. I reared up again, and thrust into his loosened-up pussy, feeling it drip with lube and sweat. His groans became like a cry. Fuck yeah. Everything I wanted.
Another few minutes of this was all I could take. I picked up speed, my thrusts becoming shallow. He held his hips up, just letting me go at his hole like a possessed creature.
"You want my load, bitch?" I growled, hardly aware of my own voice.
"Please, daddy..." he replied; "breed my fucking hole...." His words coming out choked out like he was crying. That did it, that was enough. My nuts tightened against me; I groaned aloud, feeling his fat ass grind into my pubes, and I shot into the condom.
Five thick shots of my sperm coursed out of me and into the latex sheath. I was very dimly aware of him jacking himself off at that moment. And soon, he groaned, his voice muffled and whining; his hand picked up speed. "Oh, fuck, daddy!" he called out.
I watched his heavy body stiffen and jerk. He was cumming all over the door of my car. How fucking hot was that? Panting, I reached down and wrapped my arms around his body as he came; his voice a cute, strained groaning. Fuck, that was amazing.
When finally he was done cumming, I pulled off of him; the cold air between us made my skin tingle. When I pulled off the condom, it surrounded my still-hard, cum-covered cock too. It twitched, still. Once he was composed, he turned to face me; his eyes glancing around at the shadows like he was expecting something to come out. He pulled his pants up and gave me a warm, satisfied smile.
"Shit, man," he said through a sigh. "You really don't fuck around." He did up his belt buckle, and I had to compose myself too. All business around here. Dimly I was becoming aware of the fact that I never bothered to learn his name. Now that he wasn't crying out for me to fuck him, the near-silence of night closed in once again. Stuffing my ears with its noise.
"...should do this again sometime," I heard him saying as he stepped slowly back to his own car, parked a few metres away.
"Mmm," I grunted, distracted by the dammed-up wall of my thoughts. They threatened to break through and completely sour the moment. "Yeah. Maybe."
He looked at me sideways for just a second. A stiff nod, a blank look. An unrealised phrase. I don't really know what he said. And with that, he was off. I watched his heavy, round ass roll about in his jeans as he turned and walked away from me, disappearing back into his car. Couldn't even tell you which direction he drove off afterwards.
The wave of comfortable pleasure had ebbed away, and a curious new feeling of emptiness swam in to take its place. Oddly, I had the thought that I was becoming used to such a feeling. Still, as I got back into my car, I had the masochistic sense to check my phone.
Niki Janetschek (8:51) can you look at your phone nathan please? (9:06) maybe tomorrow then...?
Nathan Liemco (9:08): maybe fucking never Niki jesus christ just leave me the fuck alone
My head pounding, I started off and began driving back home. Or, rather, my parents' home; I had set my move-out date to a month from now. The pungent smell of sweat radiated from the back seat, mingling with whatever I'd been smoking before I got here.
Like I'd said: here to fuck. Smoke weed. Fuck some more. I think that's what was normal in the weeks following a catastrophic breakup, where you learned your boyfriend of two years had been cheating on you since you left for your great-uncle's funeral in a different country.
Or I guess it's what I found to be normal, anyway. Because sandwiched in between the two different highs, lurked the makings of some really shitty lows. And I simply had no desire to address them. Still, my thoughts kept simmering on the drive home, even as music filled the spaces.
I'd already thrown out all of my ex's things, his remnants, and had drawn the curtain around my emotions. I was not going to look at that shit--I was going to fuck the pain away. I couldn't--didn't want to think--of the two years gone in a flash; gone in an opportunistic moment.... Fuck.
I think I'd already decided that I was only gonna meet each guy a total of once. That way, I wouldn't get to know shit about him. I didn't want or need another person's entire existence on my conscience right now. I could even ignore the insistent ding! ding! ding! that was coming out of my goddamn phone. As far as I was concerned, my ex had over-texted himself into a brick fucking wall, and my desire to message him was in the negatives. I had bigger fish to fry; other holes to fill.
Within ten minutes I was back home at my parents' suburban property. The lights were on in the living room, I could see from the window as I parked. I approached the door and I could hear the combined sounds of girlish screaming. Riiiiight. My little cousin Bailey was over, and she was having a sleepover with my sister Jennie--my uncle had her for the week. I paused at the stoop, peering inside the window. Little shits were watching a horror movie!
"Bwaaarghhh!" I roared as I burst inside with no warning. I counted three voices screaming bloody murder. Two were my little sister and my cousin; the third was the middle girl, who was no doubt responsible for the two gremlins. I shuffled into the living room, catching sight of Michael Myers brutally killing someone on film. Now what the hell was my sister doing watching goddamn Halloween with two young kids?
"Nathan!" the youngest, Jennie, whined at me. "You scared the crap out of us!"
"What, the movie isn't scary enough for you?" I frowned, shooting a look at my middle sister, who had curled herself into a pile on the couch with the girls. The three of them had all the blankets around them. "Reese! Why're you showing them such a violent movie?"
My sister sniffed. "What? Mom and dad showed us Stephen King when we were young." Right, like we could've ever forgotten that specific trauma. Such a normal thing to say and do.
"What's Tito Jon gonna say if he hears that Bailey here--" and I reached down to muss up my cousin's hair "--just saw freaking Halloween for the first time?" Never mind the dad, I thought absently; what about her crazy-ass mom? But I kept that thought to myself.
"I'm not scared," Bailey protested. Uh-huh.
"Where've you been, anyway?" Reese asked in an obvious deflection. "I've been trying to text you."
Oops. "Uh, just went out for a drive...." It wasn't necessarily untrue.
"Well, was it over to Niki's place?" At the mention of my newly-minted ex-boyfriend, I felt an ugly twist in my gut. "He couldn't reach you, so he called the house. He apparently wants that photo back."
She gestured accusingly to the photo in question, sitting on the fireplace mantle. A framed photo of him and me, at the cottage our family frequented around Christmas every other year. How the fuck could I have forgotten that one in the purge?
Me, and my ex-boyfriend Niki, at the peak of our two-year relationship; on the snow-covered deck at a ski resort in British Columbia. We were overlooking a beautifully snowy evergreen forest. Smiling for the camera. It had been a grand scene. Once.
I must've stared at the fucking thing for too long, because Reese reached over, letting go of Jennie's shoulder to touch my wrist. "Kuya..." she began. The empathetic plea from sister to brother. At exactly the same time a scream came out of the TV as Michael Myers struck again.
"I'm okay, see?" I said with a smile that would win exactly zero acting awards. Her black eyes were soft with concern, but she had it all wrong. I was great! I was grand. And while I couldn't exactly tell her why I was like that, it was overall unimportant.
After I washed my hands and changed my clothes, I emerged from my bedroom and rejoined the girls in the living room, deciding to commit to the highly inappropriate movie that neither a seven year old nor a nine year old should be watching. Bailey crawled out of the blanket to curl up in a ball next to me. She was a cute kid, and I loved her, even if she was an annoying turd.
"You stink, Kuya Nate," she said, screwing up her face.
"No, you stink, stinky," I responded absently, my mind somewhere else. And it went back and forth like that, as it normally would in that way that kids could keep repeating a joke and still find it funny three retellings later.
Soon, the movie wasn't so scary anymore, and the girls were giggling the whole way, thanks to the jokes I kept cracking so they wouldn't be so traumatised. If only I'd had such a cousin when my lovely parents showed me and my sister Pet Sematary when I was eight.
All the while, my mind drifted to that stupid photo that was sitting on our mantle. I chided myself with a tsk!' aloud, which caused Bailey to glance at me sideways. I shook my head. Because fuck that whole being sad' shit. Especially over some dude.
Niki Janetschek Nathan Liemco (9:08): just leave me the fuck alone
Niki Janetschek (9:16): i'm sorry. i just wanted the one picture. let's just meet and trade off. i won't bug you after.
Nathan Liemco (9:23): wtf you gonna do? hang it up at your new man's place? if you really want it that bad you and and him can dig through my trash for it tomorrow
Niki Janetschek (9:29): right. i'll let it drop. sorry.
The trash. Right where it and all my resentful, choking feelings of the entire situation belonged. I punched down the idea of love and all its wrongdoings until it was so far down that hell seemed like a mercy. And that's just how I was going to make it through this.
My other stories
Racing Into the Night: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-friends/racing-into-the-night/