Gay men can be the biggest bitches you've ever met. Cause just like in any other population of this world you have the good, the bad and the batshit insane.
I've had boyfriends that are more high maintenance, demanding and toy with sexual favour than any woman I've ever known. Say the wrong thing and bam! I'm on the couch for the night. Don't fold the towels the right way in the bathroom. Bam! I'm on the couch for the night. Leave a few crumbs on the kitchen counter and bam... you guessed it... I'm on the couch for the night.
I've read many stories that feature a man ending a marriage or relationship cause the woman changes. She transforms into a nagging witch, which makes the man seek out male companionship. Now... that's never made sense to me.
If you were in denial about being gay or bi or whatever that's fine. If a bad relationship is what drives you to the realization you actually want something different that's absolutely ok.
But don't blame it on the female population in general cause that really grinds my gears... Just like not all gays are rational masculine men... some are the wicked witch of the west... with a dick.
I suppose it's my own fault really... I always fall for the wrong guy. Take my latest disaster; beautiful eyes, nice soft skin, small skinny body, blond hair ... the works. Sweet young, fun and funny Yro.... for about two months then he let his façade slip and the real Yro showed itself. Short tempered, irrational and screaming Yro. Damns shame though... the sex had been pretty good in the beginning and Yro had been great...
Tonight at the bar is my first night venturing out among real live living people since the break up. I scan the room and see many good looking guys... many of them fit my tastes to a tee.
You see I have a fondness for what is generally called the effeminate type. Twinky bodies, puppy eyes, swing in the hip ... and if he bits his lip when looking up at me I just about loose it.
I myself am the opposite; I've never been attracted to big large muscular men like myself. I'm big, not fat just big. I come from a long line of Viking blood and am the poster child of a modern day Northman. Expect I have very light brown hair unlike everyone else in my family. My dad secretly thinks the mailman had something to do with it but I have his cleft chin that proves his theory wrong.
Men that come on to me mostly see one thing.... TOP.
They rarely see anything else. It can be frustrating cause they expect you to 'the man' in the relationship while I view it as two men being in a relationship. I know not all men think this way thank god but that's just been my personal experience so far...
I'm a bottom that attracts bottoms.
I turn to sit facing the bar not in a real mood to cruise but in no mood to sit alone in my apartment either. I guess I'm radiating a 'leave me alone' aura cause I'm not exactly being approached either. I watch the sports on the tv above the bar. This bar is the only gaybar I know in town that always shows sports.
I'm guessing it's more to ogle men in tight clothes than anything else but I don't judge. I just watch and listen to the scores.
I hear the stool beside me scrap the floor and a voice order a beer. I automatically shift my eyes to the mirror behind the bar. Hm... nice looking guy really. Dark brown hair with short but tight slim body. He's dressed casually and as he takes a swig of his beer I see the glint of his lip ring perfectly matching his thick full under lip.
I wonder if he had any other piercings....
"What's the score?" He asks and I hear the undercurrent of an effeminate voice in there somewhere. I pull my head back from the cloud it was on as I realize he was taking to me but his eyes had been on the TV.
"16 - 19 for Scotland." I reply.
He grunts obviously not a fan of the Scots. Over the next hour or so we chat about the game and have a few beers. It isn't a come on from either side so we just sit and chat. I learn his name is Joran and I inform him mine is Alden.
Then he bids me a goodnight and leaves.
Somewhere though I'm a little disappointed I didn't get to see if he had any other piercings on that tight little body...
This is kind of how it rolls for the next several weeks. Friday's and Saturday's we sit at the bar, have a few beers and chat. Mostly a game is on but it doesn't really matter what sport is shown, just as long as we can comment on it.
We get to know each other really well and develop a very comfortable friendship there at the bar. I look forward to our chats and beers at the weekend. It's the highlight of my week. Every week for about three months.
One Friday he misses our bar session, I'm disappointed and feel a tad lonely sitting there by myself. More men than usual approach me that night but how could any of this interest me? Joran is of course a man. He's probably gotten tired of just sitting here chatting with me while he could be cruising the bars...
The thing is he's nice, like genuinely nice and goodhearted. He's funny too, in that very dry sarcastic and dark kind of way. His comebacks are surprising and often have me choking and not tasting my beer as I shake with laughter.
Damn... I like this man... I like him very much. Probably too much for my own good at this point. The next evening he's at our spot before I am and immediately asks for my number.
"Got called into work yesterday. Wanted to let you know I'd not be here but didn't have your number."
We exchange details and I'm secretly ecstatic with this development. He still hasn't made a move on me and now... I'm desperate for him too. I'd do it myself but the thought of having a new Yro makes me back off in a flash. What the fuck is wrong with me....
Although he doesn't make a move on me others have been making a pass at him. He quickly but politely dismisses every one of them. I too get approached from time to time but for some reason they quickly lose interest and move on.
I'm not particularly bothered by it I'd rather sit with Joran any time.
From that day on we meet earlier on a Saturday and have dinner together before going to our bar. First time he walked up to me at the restaurant with that little wing in his hip I popped a hard on like you wouldn't believe. It held all through dinner. Those dinners I've come to love over the passing weeks...
I realized I had a sexual hard one and an emotional hard on so to speak. I couldn't deny I was falling hard for this guy... That I had fallen hard for this guy.But something kept holding me back... Kept holding us back I think...
Then one eventful Saturday night everything changed.
As usual we're sitting at the bar. Joran is in the middle of tell me a particularly funny work incident he had this week and my shoulders have been shaking for several minutes now. Partly from the comical situation of the tale, the enthusiasm in which he relays it to me and the glint and joy in his eyes and face as he speaks.
Suddenly I feel a pair of hands slide across my back. "Hey Ally baby..." I hear a very familiar and unwelcome voice purr in my ear.
Yro steps from behind me a big bright smile on his face. My muscles tense immediately even though it's been months now since we broke up. Those last few weeks of torment still very fresh in my mind.
"Yro." I nod unsmiling.
"How you been Ally?" I always hated it when he called me that and he knows it. A hand slides to my thigh rubbing it up and down. "I've been missing that big boy of yours."
Men only do think with their nuts don't they?
"Excuse me?" Joran's voice picks up beside me. "Can't you see he's with someone?" There is a little bit of a possessive tone in there that has a chill running down my spine instantly. A very excited chill...
Yro looks passed me rather annoyed at the interruption and cocks an eyebrow. "You?" he laughs. "I don't think so honey." and goes right back to rubbing my thigh.
Joran's hand shoots out and has Yro's wrist in a vice and a squeal. "Hands off my man 'honey'" He growls and a firebomb in my stomach just glows at the sound.
"Ally!" Yro whines at me trying to free his hand.
"You heard him." Is all I say as he finally snatching his hand away and stomps off. I relax again laughing. "Thanks for the save man."
"Who says I was saving you?"
I turn my head almost meeting his lips he's standing so close. He bends forward to my ear giving it a slight flick. "Isn't it about time you come home with me?" he breaths.
All I can do is croak in the affirmative... his voice, closeness and lips have shortcut my vocal cords for the time being.
"I have to warn you though..." he breathes. "... once I have you I'm not planning on letting go anytime soon."
If I could I'd swoon, instead I tremble. "I thought you already did have me..."
His smirk is off the charts as he quickly pulls me out of the bar. He's always told me he lives close but I hadn't reckoned on a short 5 minutes walk. He has a firm hold of my hand and I notice he had surprising strength in that little body of his. I feel a flutter rise from my stomach down to my groin back up my spine again... and relish those feelings.
Once inside his flat I get my first taste of his lips. He's standing on this toes and I'm leaning down pressing the tight body against mine. He kisses amazingly; a firm sensuality and conveying intense feelings... damn... and those are only his lips. I can but hope I match up to him.
We haven't spoken since the bar and he makes no move to speak even now. His movements are gentle yet deliberate. He's out of his clothes before I can even blink and takes my hand leading me through the flat. My eyes glued to the tight muscled packed little body he's parading in front of me. Perkiest little ass you've ever seen, back muscles moving with every step there is something highly enticing in the way he walks.
The bedroom is an ocean of blue centering a big white bed. He sits me gently on top of the covers at the edge and steps in between my legs. My head in his hands he kisses me in that wonderfully amazing way again and I'm turning to mush at his touch. I knew I wanted him for quite some time now.... I believe I wasn't aware of just how much....
There was more than lust or love or heat in those kisses ... there was...
He reaches down and places my hands on his hips. I realize I've been anything but assertive till now, and for some reason I don't feel like I need to be. I could be assertive if I wanted to and I could be submissive if I wanted to.
Right now submissive is exactly what I want to be.
I don't want to be in control. I want to be swept away in this ocean I'm in and Joran seems to be the right person to do just that.
I sense his skin under my fingers and feel as nervous as I did when I first touched a man all those years ago. I look up and see a world of lust and love and heat and... there is something else there again... something I can't quite.... I press my nose into his chest, taking in his scent and the smooth hairless chest. His scent is another enticing factor. I've smelled his cologne before and always quietly savored its intoxication.
This was different; this scent wasn't merely a nice smelling cologne it was Joran. His skin, his lungs moving as he breathed, his natural fragrance... all wrapping me in a warm comfortable blanket. We all know how smells can turn us on or off a person yet this was like coming home. A scent anyone would recognize as the last one they'd want to smell given half the chance.
He removes my clothes in a fashion that has me shivering in antici...pation.
His warm hands slide over my skin touching everything in its path. Once I'm naked, he steps back and simply looks at me... that's all he does for several minutes.... He looks at me.
Minutes can feel like an eternity when being observed, knowing how the observer is committing everything to memory. You're too far-gone to feel conscious or self-aware... cause you've never felt so... bare before, so open and exposed, even with clothes on. He smiles and moves to kiss me again pushing me gently on my back up the bed. I feel his lip piercing as he's kissing me, just the thought of it has me shivering all over. I never knew I liked those so much. I let my hand roam his body searching for what my eyes maybe missed before, but I don't feel any other piercings on him.
We roll about the bed, he's smiling and giggling as I touch him and I know I'm the mirror of his expressions as he does the same to me. There is a feeling of intimate friendship even here, even with this spark flowing freely between us. My hand hovers above his amazingly hard member and I glance at him as if asking for permission. I don't know why I do this but he nods and I wrap my hand around his cock.
It isn't big. It is probably a little on the small side. I've never particularly been bothered with size... it's what the guy does with it that counts. Size doesn't always tell how amazing a man can be in bed. I've been pleasantly surprised many times before.
Joran's may not be big but it's absolute perfection. A nice width suiting its length, a sculpted head, two nice small nuts under them and completely smooth... He's cut, which I've encountered before, but not much and as I roll my hand over his flared head I feel two things... the shiver rippling through is entire body and a small Prince Albert.
The barbell isn't big, it isn't large and obscene in comparison to his dick. This guy isn't into compensation but enhancing his existing sensation. That ripple running through his body and the moan accompanying it has him straddling my hips in a second. Grinding into me hard in slowed roll of his hips. His eyes sparkle and he leans over to kiss me again as I lift my head to meet his lips. My own pants and gasps of breath had us both dancing in need.
We still haven't spoken.
This goes on for a while; don't ask me how long... does time count when there are no clock to count it? My ears are filled with our sounds and every other sense I posses is filled with Joran. There really isn't another way to describe this... There is only Joran and the bed and... nothing else, nothing else at all.
He stretches out on top of me closing his legs and then pushes my thighs up with his knees. No one can pre-order how they are made, some men are big, some skinny, some men are tall and some are small. there are delights to be found in every shape. I'm a big guy, I'm build big and strong and having his little man handle me with a certain finesse I've only dreamed of has me...
... I don't need to spell it out do I?
He hasn't actually touched me yet. He hasn't laid a single finger on my dick or handled my nuts in any way. I know I'm trembling with the need for it. Please even if it's just the tip.... But he doesn't. He massages my stomach, my hips, my thighs.... Making his way to my bud that's more than impatiently waiting for him. I jerk the first time he touches it. The need as powerful as the longing rising up in me. He as me opened up and silently pleading for what's to come in no time. I don't know when or where he got it from but he's suited up and lubing me before I'm even half aware of it.
He positions himself and bends over to kiss me, that kiss you know ... that kiss before entry is a mindfuck all on its own. He presses against my bud and I moan rolling my eyes and arching my back breaking or kiss. I'm in need; I'm in heat, PLEASE!
He stops and gently touches my face, he rights my head making me look into his eyes. He released my face after a gentle caress and places his hands beside my waist. He wants me to look at him.
He wants me to look into his eyes as he push- OH MY GODS... The push, the sphincter, the tightness, the pulsing, the pain ... all in a struggle to keep those eyes locked. The pain ebbs soon enough quicker than most times and he slides in slowly. A slow steady pass he doesn't halt for a second. I see his eyes narrow with the sensations he's feeling yet they never close or break with mine.
I can't describe what happened next in accurate terms. The best I can do is this: pleasure, fear, swirls of colours, deep brown eyes, panting breath, loving kisses, urging, rising, hands everywhere, intense powerful pleasure...
Thrusts that discount any sense of rhyme or rhythm, having me titter on the edge until all I want is to cum. My entire mind is thinking of release. It is my world.
I want to come.
He changes his thrusts to a slow long-dicking. Which is driving me to a higher plain of insanity. I am so close I've been on edge for an eternity now... but I'm not allowed to cum... not without permission.
I've never had that thought before. I've never been as submissive as I have been tonight but I can't come without asking and can't seem to say the words...
Then I don't have don't to anymore... as he slides in slowly once more his runs a finger along the entire length of my dick and it jumps at touch and the touch... was all I needed. It was my permission to release and release I did and frankly I'd be surprised if the whole street hadn't heard me... I'm not silent, I never have been.
Somewhere I'm aware he's cumming with me.
I feel him stroke and kiss me as we both float back to earth, he collapses next to me laughing panting heavily. Discarding an extremely filled rubber he stretches out cooling his sweaty body. All I really remember after that is rolling over laying my head on his stomach and wrapping my arms around his body. I fall asleep feeling his hand draw slow lazy circles in my back...
We still haven't spoken.
I wake up the next morning feeling Joran's body beside mine. I turn to him seeing he's already awake and watching me. I smile for him snuggling deeper into the warmth of his body. I see lust in those eyes lust, love, heat, happiness and...
Alden turns having awoken and smiles. Relief is the predominant emotion coursing through me. It has been the principal thought on my mind after his ex showed up last night.
He's mine now.
"Morning." He mumbles into my neck. I try to hug him tighter but he has gargantuan shoulders and there aren't very pliable.
"Morning keppe." I feel his smile at the use of our regional pet name. It isn't one I use often but then again I don't think I'll be using it for anyone else.
"Why did this take us so long?" he mumbles not releasing his hold on me as I stroke his back. He seems to really like that, if he'd been a cat he'd be purring right now.
Why did it take us so long he asks.... Fair question to be sure. How to it answer though...
"I guess we had to be sure. I've been watching you for a long time Alden. Even before Yro. I wanted to approached you but he cut me to the case."
That was true enough I had been watching him. You really couldn't anything else when he's in the room; he takes up a lot of space. I held back at first I wasn't looking for a top. He had top written all over him. My regret is not finding out myself before Yro got his clutches on him. With some pain I saw their relationship first blossom and then quickly sour. Yro is a mean little freak though you wouldn't know it when you first meet him with that sweet little angle façade.
It was during that time though that I saw Alden's true nature surface. Tell tale little signs that told me he wasn't a top at all. Some men are born to be tops, some men have topness thrust upon them.
Alden was the latter.
That first night I sat beside him at the bar I knew not to come on to him right away. I wasn't interested in being a rebound and to be honest he looked like he just needed a friend. I wanted to be that friend.... for as long as he needed me to be.
I feel him laugh before I hear the sound and smile along with him. "I was pretty sure before last night Jorre. If there were any doubts they aren't there anymore." He says.
I move to stroke his hair, an act I love to do. He's right any doubts that we are what we want, have gone. I was his friend for as long as I needed to be. I hadn't counted on that friendship being the basis of what is to come. Giving us a strong solid foundation to grow from but that is exactly what it's turned out to be.
I can only be thankful for that.
I hug him to me and feel his arms tighten in response.
Relief. That is what I feel. Relief that he's mine now. Relief and a firm conviction that he isn't going anywhere anytime soon.
"You think we should invite Yro?" Alden asks shifting his head to look me in the eye.
Invite? Before I can ask I see the answer in his eyes.... oh invite.
"Yro? Why not?" I say and shrug though I know and feel my smile hurting my face. "It takes a while to plan these things. A year is the done thing I hear."
"It is." He laughs rolling onto his back pulling me on top of him. He may be submissive in bed but he isn't submissive in life. I like that and I've known this for a while now. I sigh contently resting on his chest as I feel his hands rub along the length of my back.
Relief. That is what I feel.
Relief, love, belonging and a firm conviction that he isn't going anywhere ever again.
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This is a piece of fiction. My piece of fiction which may not be borrowed, altered, taken or copied without my explicit permission. These stories are registered under my name.