Bonding - Manny's Story part 5

Manny was now definitely an important part of my life. And I was happier than I’d been in years. Since my last breakup, which had been a bitter one, I hadn’t seen the need to get involved with anyone else. I was happy living alone and I could score enough ass through online hookup sites to keep me sexually satisfied. I didn’t want or need another man in my life. Then Manny came along. It’s funny how one single event can change everything. I never really thought of myself as lonely until I met him. Suddenly, I had something to look forward to every day. I loved our visits to the gym, where I had to really focus on my workout because I could so easily be distracted by the sight of him pumping iron, his beautiful body glowing with sweat and his handsome face so fierce with concentration. I loved our Saturdays together at my place. And the sex, I definitely loved the sex. Most Saturdays our hands would be all over each other as soon as he entered my house, though not always; sometimes the sex came later. But it wasn’t just the sexual attraction. I also loved spending time with him. Sometimes we would just lie in bed and talk after sex. Sometimes we would have a drink in the living room and watch television; no show in particular, just the two of us spending time together. We always held each other close, no matter what we did.

One Saturday in mid-August we started our day together by watching a movie on Netflix that he wanted to see; a movie that turned out to be boring as hell. After an hour or so, his attention drifted from the movie to me and he suddenly asked, “Eric, how long have you been single?” I was taken by surprise by the question. “About five years more or less,” I said, “Why do you ask?” “Because we’ve been seeing each other for over two months now and I don’t know anything about your life before we met,” he said. Seeing each other, I thought to myself, did he really just say that? “I guess you’re right,” I said, “So what would you like to know?” I asked. He hesitated, as though unsure how to approach the subject, then asked, “Why have you been single for so long? I mean you’re good looking and all, so like do you ever go out on dates?” “I’m single by choice,” I said, “and if I need to get laid, there’s Grindr.” I paused then said, “My last relationship ended badly and I saw no reason to pursue another one.” Until I met you, I thought, but I left that unspoken. I could tell by his expression that he wanted to hear more, but was unsure of whether he should ask. “You really want to know?” I asked, “Because it’s not a fun story.” He looked at me seriously and said, “Yeah, I want to know.” He paused and then said, “It’s just that I really like you and I hardly know anything about you and….” “Hush,” I said, “I’ll tell you all about it.” I took a deep breath, gathered my thoughts and began.

“His name was Mark. I met him at Station 4 one Saturday back in June 2013, on one of the rare times when I would hit the clubs. He was a typical club boy: 27 years old, muscular gym body, handsome face and always horny. He was also homeless, basically sleeping on a friend’s sofa and addicted to crystal meth, but I didn’t find that out until later. Anyway, I bought him a drink, we hit it off and ended up fucking back at my place. The sex was incredible and he never stopped telling me how hot I was. Looking back, I’m sure he saw me as an opportunity. After all, I had this house, a good job and money. And I was so infatuated with how sexy he was, that I just didn’t think about anything else. Within two months he had moved in. And I thought I was happy; after all, I had this beautiful young stud who supposedly wanted me more than anything. Then things started to change after a few months. He lost his job and didn’t seem to care about getting another one, despite me telling him I wasn’t going to support him forever. I found drug paraphernalia hidden in his clothes, but he insisted that he wasn’t an addict and that he only did it with friends occasionally. I so wanted to believe him. He would use sex to try and make me happy and he would tell me he loved me. I loved him or I thought I did. Then I started to notice money missing from my wallet. Not much, a little here and there, but enough to make me realize that I had to do something. He denied it of course, but I was finally starting to doubt him. Anger was starting to set in, though I still loved him. I went to Florida to see family in May 2014 and decided that when I got back, I would do my best to fix things with him and make this work.”

“The end came when I arrived home from my trip. I had originally been scheduled to fly home late on a Saturday afternoon, but I was able to get confirmed on an earlier flight in the morning. I thought it would be nice to get home early and surprise him. I wondered why he didn’t hear the door open when I got home, but when I got to our bedroom, I saw the reason. He was on his back getting fucked by a guy that I recognized as one of his club friends. I just stood there and stared. I had forgiven him the drug use and stealing money from me and this is how he paid me back. I felt a rage I would have never believed I was capable of. I walked into the bedroom and said, ‘Wow, what a lovely sight to come home to.’ The guy who was fucking him pulled out and scrambled off the bed with fear in his eyes. I looked at him and said, ‘You have thirty seconds to get out of my house or I will break your neck.’ He saw by the look in my eyes that I wasn’t kidding. He grabbed his clothes and shoes and was out the door in a flash. ‘And you,’ I said to my treacherous boyfriend, ‘have thirty minutes to pack your shit and get out.’ He looked at me with a mix of shame and defiance. It didn’t even take him thirty minutes; all he really had were his clothes and his phone. As he headed for the door, I said, ‘Wait.’ He stopped and gave me a hostile stare. ‘Keys,’ I said. He tossed his set of house keys at me and said, “I was done with your old ass anyway,” and slammed the door behind him as he left.”

I had watched Manny’s expression throughout my story. It went from genuine interest, to shock and finally to sadness. When I finished, I could tell he was definitely upset, almost like he was about to cry. “Hey baby, you okay?” I asked. “Yeah, I’m okay,” he said, though I could see that he was fighting back tears. He was silent for a minute, then suddenly burst out, “I fucking hate druggies!” and then the tears started to spill down his cheeks and he said, “You should have beaten the shit out of that lying cheater!” I was taken aback by his reaction; why was he crying when it had happened to me? “Manny, it’s okay, don’t be so upset, it was a long time ago, come on now, stop crying,” and I pulled him close and kissed him. I held him until he stopped sobbing, then went to get some tissues and gave them to him so he could clean up his face. “What’s wrong?” I asked, “Come on, tell me.” He got close and wrapped his arms around me, still sniffling, then said, “Something like that happened to me last year and your story just brought it all back and….,” he paused, like he wanted to go on, but didn’t want to start crying again. “Oh Manny,” I said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to….,” and he said, “No, it's not your fault, you didn’t know.” He was silent for a few minutes then asked, “You want to hear about it?” “Only if you want to tell me,” I said. He nodded, and said, “Yeah, you told me your story, so I’m going to tell you mine.” I turned his head towards me so I could see his face clearly. “You sure?” I asked. His voice and expression were much calmer now and he said, “Yes, I’m sure.” He laid his head on my shoulder and began talking.

“I had been hanging with the same bunch of guys since high school. Mostly Salvadorans like me, but also Mexicans and a few white guys also. My best friend was Octavio, but we all called him Tavito. We’d been in most of the same classes together in school and we were like brothers. About a year after we graduated though, things changed. I had started to work for my father, but the guys in our group, including him, didn’t seem to want to do anything but chase girls, smoke weed and get drunk all the time. I like having a drink with my buds, but they would get seriously fucked up all the time and I didn’t like that. And I hated smoking weed, but I went along because, you know, I thought these guys were my friends and would always have my back. They started to tease me about the fact that I loved to draw, saying art was for queers. And they all had dead end jobs like fast food and convenience stores, but they called me a loser because I worked for my father, even though I made more money than any of them. Even Tavito started making fun of me; a little at first, but it got worse as time passed.” Manny paused for a minute, went to the kitchen for some water, then came back to finish his story.

“Girls were always around us, especially around Tavito; he was very good looking and always had the best weed. And of course he had the hottest girlfriend of any of us. She had a friend named Ana, who started hitting on me, like a lot. Well, I was supposed to be a young macho stud like my friends so of course I flirted with her. We saw each other every time the gang got together at one or another’s place. I really started to like her. She was funny and sexy. And really sweet, at first anyway. I was real inexperienced with girls; something else the guys would tease me about. The first time we had sex was great; I mean I got hard right away and fucked her good. I was proud because it was my first time and I really liked it and I thought she did too. But she started asking me for weed every time we fucked. I was able to score some off Tavito, but he wasn’t cool with just giving it away, even to his best friend. And the sex started to get less and less exciting for me; there were times when I just couldn’t get hard.” Manny looked at me with a grin and said, “I guess now I know the reason for that, huh?” I smiled back at him, gave him an affectionate head rub, kissed him on his forehead and waited for him to continue.

“Anyway, I was in love with her or thought I was and I still thought girls were what I wanted. And I wanted to make it work with her. I guess I was too stupid to realize that she was just using me. And I didn’t see the end coming when it did.”

“We were at a party at someone’s parents’ house last May. Tavito and most of the guys and girls I knew were there. Tavito had just dumped his girlfriend, so he was riding solo. Ana and I had gone to the party together, but once we got there, she kept finding ways to avoid me, like we’d be in a group talking and she’d walk off to find another group to be a part of. Around midnight, I realized I didn’t see her anywhere, so I decided to go look for her and ask her what her problem was. I went upstairs and heard noise from one of the bedrooms, then I heard her voice saying, ‘Yeah, fuck my pussy baby,’ from inside. I put my hand on the doorknob, turned it to see if it was locked. It wasn’t so I swung the door wide open and saw Tavito, my best friend, fucking her like crazy on the bed. ‘Tavito, what the fuck?’ I yelled at him. He got off her, came to the door and said, ‘Sorry bro, but she wants a real man, not you,’ and he shut the door in my face. Turns out she only chose me because Tavito already had a girlfriend and she was waiting for him to become available. Now she could have his cock and all the weed she wanted.”

Manny finished speaking and looked at me. He looked so sad that I almost felt like crying myself. He said, “It was so bad because both my best friend and my first girlfriend betrayed me, you know,” he said, the tears forming again. He wiped his eyes and said, “I’m sorry Eric, you should have a real man, not a crybaby punk like me.” I held his face in my hands, looked directly into his eyes and said, “You’re more man than any of those losers you used to call friends.” He smiled and asked, “Really?” “Yeah, really,” I said, “and I wouldn’t trade you for anyone or anything in the world,” and then he kissed me with a fierce passion, a kiss so long and deep that when we finally broke free of each other, I felt drained of energy. “You have no idea how happy I am when we’re together,” he said. “No more happy than I am Manny,” I said and kissed him. He smiled again, an amazingly sweet and happy smile. He stood up and held his hand out to me. “Let’s go to bed,” he said. I reached out, grabbed his hand and stood up also. I pulled him close and kissed him again. “Sounds like the best idea either of us has had all day,” I said.

We walked to the bedroom, him leading me. He stood me by the bed and kissed me, then hugged me tightly and kissed me again. He gazed into my eyes, then slowly pulled my t-shirt over my head and tossed into the corner. He then peeled off his own t-shirt, threw it aside and again embraced and kissed me. He clearly wasn’t about to be rushed and I was happy to do whatever he wanted. Looking always into my eyes, he unbuttoned, unzipped and pulled off my jeans, then did the same for his own. Now we were standing next to the bed in our underwear; me in my usual black boxer briefs and him in his usual bikini briefs. He got into bed and pulled me in with him. We embraced passionately, kissing while our bodies entwined, our hard cocks yearning to break free of our underwear; we could feel them rubbing against each other through the fabric. Manny kissed my mouth over and over, like that was all he wanted from me and I returned his kisses with equal fervor, our tongues deep inside each other. Finally he pulled my underwear off and then his own, our cocks now freed and the feel of his manhood against mine was so intense I knew I could cum at any minute. He focused his attention on my face, gave me a quick kiss and said, “I don’t want to fuck or suck. I just want us to touch each other.”

He reached into the nightstand, got the bottle of lube and poured some in his hand. Then he reached down and started stroking my cock with it. “Oh fuck Manny, that feels good,” I said, “oh yeah, stroke it baby.” We were lying on our sides, facing each other so that while he was pumping my dick, he was looking me in the face. He nodded towards the lube and said, “Touch me Eric,” and I lubed up my hand and reached down to grab his hard, throbbing cock. “Yeah baby,” he said, “that’s just what I want, stroke it good man,” and I was loving this, just the two of us naked in bed, jacking each other off, simple but it felt so good, just the feel of his hand on my cock, caressing me up and down and I loved how his own cock pulsed at my touch and the sound of him moaning made me even more aroused and I felt my orgasm approaching; I wanted to hold off cumming as long as possible, so I started kissing him fiercely while we continued to pound each other’s rods. I kissed him again and again; I didn’t want to stop but he broke away at one point and whispered, “Eric, I’m so fucking close,” and I whispered back, “Me too Manny,” and he said in a sultry, pleading tone, “Make me cum Eric,” and I kissed him yet again and slowly increased the pace of my stroking while he did the same to me and I heard his moans get louder and then he said, “Oh fuck baby, I’m gonna shoot, I’m gonna cum Eric, oh yeah here it comes,” and I felt his cock erupt as his load shot across the space between us and splattered all over my stomach; it was so much cum that I was covered in it, so warm and thick and the sensation caused me to explode also and my cum blasted from my cock all over him and even as I shot my load, he kept cumming on me; we covered each other in a mess of sticky, wet semen until we both had nothing left. We pulled each other close so that our bodies touched each other, our cum loads slippery between us and we kissed and embraced like mad until exhaustion overtook us and we just lay there in each other’s arms.

 I started thinking about what he had told me, about his friend Tavito and the girl Ana. Now it was clear to me why Manny didn’t seem to have any friends. Because in all likelihood he didn’t. After a betrayal like that, it was no wonder he had turned inward. I felt a wave of sympathy for him. Beneath his veneer of casual bravado, he was a lonely and very sensitive young man. I wanted to be everything to him now: friend, lover, confidante, mentor, protector. I wanted to show him a world beyond the limited one that he had had with those so-called friends that he had wisely abandoned. I wanted to know more about him, so I could help him be the man I knew he could be. To do that I would have to reveal more of myself to him. And over time, I knew I could. He had already made my life less lonely. I was now determined to do the same for him.

To Be Continued….