Feeling Distant
I put my phone down with a sigh. I wasn't angry, but I was frustrated. Sergio had just told me he would be late. Again. Very late. It had been happening a lot in the last few months. Case after case that took up so much of his time. In the year since we got back from The Azores, he seemed to be busier than ever. It was almost the end of February and it had started to feel pretty gloomy.
Being the husband of a Crown Attorney I was told to get used to it. I had spoken to partners of some of Sergio's colleagues at the office Christmas party. They had sighed and sipped their wine and looked into the distance and said, “This is the sacrifice we make so they can have the career they want...”
What I knew was unspoken was how annoyed they were. Or lonely. Or sexually frustrated. One such partner of an acquaintance of Sergio's came on to me at an outdoor party the previous July. He had said, “Come on, Stan. Let's have some fun while the cats are in court.”
I had gently told him to fuck himself, but at the same time, I understood where he was coming from.
Over the past year, Sandor had told me about some of his more adventurous sexual exploits: fucking a dozen guys in a sauna, having sex with who knows how many guys right down the street from my house...I was impressed and a little envious. Not so much the quantity, but the excitement. But he seemed to have settle down now that he was moving in with Aravind and they had decided on a more monagam-ish agreement.
Sergio and I didn't have a lot of sex at the point. He was rarely home to have sex. I wondered if we needed to change our agreement so that at least I could get some. But I knew I didn't really want that. Sure, I could hook up with a guy or two and Sergio would be fine with it – as long as I told him. We both knew that was an unspoken rule to add to our explicit one. But I just didn't feel like it. I think I was sad.
I stared at my phone, then decided the only thing to do was make dinner. Which I would eat alone. My schedule is such that I'm home by five unless I have to coach the cricket team, or go to a swim meet with the year tens. I stared at the pot of boiling spaghetti and wished we had a cat. Or even a bird. I was lonely.
I took my meal to the big table in our big kitchen in our big house. Don't get me wrong. I love our house, but when there's no one else around it can feel too big and too empty. I drank some wine and put the television on hoping for distraction. I had to mark a bunch of algebra tests but I wasn't in the mood. I lay down and started at the ceiling.
Out of a fog of a dream, I woke to Sergio kissing me, which at first I thought was part of the dream, but then the feeling of his body on top of mine was unmistakably real. He kissed me again and said, “How long have you been asleep on the couch?”
Groggily I said, “What time is it?”
Sergio looked uncomfortable and said, “Half past twelve.”
“Shit! Another hard case?”
He sat back on the sofa and I pulled myself up and took his hand. His face was strained and tired, but there was something else. I can always tell. Was it the fact that his hair was messier than usual? That his tie was crooked when normally he would never let that happen? But I decided to wait and see what he might say.
He swallowed and shifted on the sofa. “Stan...I need to tell you something. I...uh...had sex with someone. Tonight.”
I wasn't surprised. I was surprised that I wasn't surprised. But I also understood and I was glad he told me. I said, “Sergio...it's fine. The important thing is you told me. Was it fun at least?”
“I don't know, Stan. It was fine. It was with Marcus. That's what I don't feel good about.”
The fact that it was with Marcus did feel strange. He saw Marcus every day at the office, in court, probably on lunch breaks. They worked very closely with each other. I let go of his hand and said, “Huh. Why him?”
Now he looked pained again. “He was there? He offered? I was exhausted? What else can I say?”
I realized he had a point and it made sense. I knew what it was like to be tired and stressed and looking for anything that will make you forget. I guess Marcus was that for him. I reached out and took his hand again as if I wanted to emphasize what I was feeling. “Sergio...it's fine. I'm glad I know and I don't care, really, that it was Marcus. Do you think he'll ask again?”
Sergio looked down at my hand, then said, “He probably will. I'm going to say no, by the way.”
Feeling more relieved than I expected, I said, “Good. I don't like him anyway.”
He looked relieved and put his hand on my cheek. It felt warm. “Thanks, Stan. But I still feel badly.”
I nudged myself closer to him, feeling snug against his body and said, “Well, I can't help you with that.” I thought a moment, then said, “So I hope he's at least good in bed....is it going to be hard working with him now?”
He grimaced and looked down at our clasped hands. “He's fine...a bit selfish, just wanting to cum. But he's got a big dick.” He stopped and grinned at me. “We could have a threeway...?” Then he looked sheepish, as if when he said it he realized how I might respond.
He was right. I was a little annoyed. “Sergio. I've met Marcus, remember? That dinner we had with him last summer? I don't like him. He's sexy, but he's a bit of a shit, don't you think? There's no way I want him in our bed.”
I know I surprised him by my annoyance. He turning away, mumbling, “Fuck. I know. I don't much like him, either. But...you know.”
And I did know. When you've been working intensely with someone day after day, things happen. The forced intimacy does something. It happened to me when I had a girlfriend a number of years ago and I slept with another women at a cricket match in Birmingham. My girlfriend dumped me as a result. But I knew this wasn't much of an excuse for him or for me. “Yeah, Sergio, I understand, but we still have a choice in those moments.” I stopped, realizing I sounded like I was lecturing him. “How big is his dick, anyway?” I tried to laugh, but it didn't come out quite right.
Sergio winced and said, “Stan...”
It was a stupid thing to say, I know. I sighed and said, “Let's go to bed. I trust you, Sergio. I know you'll figure this out.” I leaned over and kissed him then got up.
We went silently upstairs and into our bedroom. We have this big old bed that we, when we had got out of our clothes, crawled into. At first I intended to just sleep, but Sergio had other ideas. He pulled the quilt off me, leaned down and nuzzled his face into my balls, licking. Then he sucked on them, rolling them around in his mouth while he slowly stroked me to hardness. I felt his lips on the side of my cock, kissing his way up to the head where he sucked on the end, flicking his tongue all over the place in a way he knows I love.
“Fuck, Sergio...”
The rest of the sentence was lost as he pulled my whole cock in his mouth, running his tongue all over the shaft, pulling back, doing it again. I felt his fingers begin to massage around my hole, pressing and rotating while his throat opened to the end of my dick. I was going to pull him off and return the favour, but then I decided I deserved the attention, so let him continue to increase the energy so he was sucking and pumping and sliding his fingers in my ass so I lost myself. I finally felt a rush of energy and I gasped, grabbed his head and my cock unleashed a week's worth of cum into his mouth.
Sergio moaned and I raised my head, watching him swallow, watching my cock still deep in his mouth and watching his hips gyrating into the bed. I was glad he was enjoying himself as well. When he had swallowed all my cum, he pulled himself up and I said, “You need some help?”
He laughed and pointed to the bed where he was laying. I noticed a big wet spot, so no, he was fine. He kissed me for a while. I tasted my cum and wine and Sergio and it all make me feel more myself, less cranky, more relaxed.
He pulled the quilt over us and pulled me close – my back against his chest – and whispered in my ear, “I love you so much, Stan. I'm sorry.”
I kissed his hand and said, “Stop apologizing. I love you, too. These things happen. It happened. Now we go forward.”
--
So yes, we went forward. Sergio was still working very long days and I was more or less alone. I had some friends that I had a pint with. I spent time with Carlos a lot. He was sweet and tried to understand but I was beginning to realize that straight people don't really understand. And I used to be one of them, so I should know. I can't explain it, but they just don't. As much as I love and trust Carlos, what I really needed was an evening with Sandor. But he and Aravind wouldn't be back for another week.
The following Friday, Sergio texted me just after lunch saying he would be late again, which he had been all week. They were in the middle of a high profile case involving some corporate embezzler or something like that and that I shouldn't wait up for him. He also said we would do something special when the case was over. On the one hand that felt nice to look forward to, but on the other, I felt a little twinge of unease. I decided I was being paranoid. I texted Sandor right after and arranged to have a pint with him. I was really glad he was home.
The next afternoon, I got to The Old Wellington just after five knowing that Sandor wouldn't be there for another half hour. I wanted a few moments to sit in a familiar place and settle myself. I realized I was still bothered. I sipped my bitter and looked around at the old, crooked place. At the business people unwinding, at the students getting drunk, at the tourists looking around as if they hadn't seen an old building before.
When Sandor came in, I felt a rush of relief. I stood up and thew my arms around him, his tall body feeling almost fatherly in that moment, as if he was going to solve all my problems.
I said into his ear, “I'm so glad to see you!”
“Cheers, Stan...what's wrong?”
“Get yourself a pint and I'll tell you.”
He went to the bar and ordered and came book, looking serious. “Well?”
With a sigh, I started to tell him. “Sergio is working a lot. I mean all the time. He doesn't get home until after midnight some nights...”
Sandor sipped his pint and looked at me. He's as sensitive as I am, so I knew he could tell there was something else. “And...?”
I gulped some of my beer. “He fucked his co-worker last week.”
He raised his eyebrows and said, “I see. And you guys are still not very open, I guess?”
“No. Only if we have a threesome. But actually, I'm not upset about the fact that he fucked some guy. It's the fact that it was with someone he works with all the time.” In saying it, I realized I was still upset. If it had been some random person he met at a pub, it would have accepted it. In fact it would have been fun to hear about it. But with Marcus? I hated that idea.
Sandor was looking at me. Then he said, “You're afraid it will happen again.”
I looked into his light blue eyes. “Yeah. And I think it is.” I hadn't allowed myself to think that thought until I said it. But it was true. I was certain he and Marcus were fucking. And that Sergio wasn't telling me about it.
He reached over and took my hand, shaking his head. “That's really tough, Stan. I'm sorry.”
It was nice to hear his empathy. So much so that I almost started to cry. I said, “Thanks...”
Sandor put his pint down and said, “Come over for dinner. You shouldn't be alone. Aravind is in London until tomorrow, so we'll play bachelors. Sound good?”
“In London? But you just got back from Italy?”
He nodded and said, “They had some big meeting he couldn't get out of. We would have stayed in Italy a few more days otherwise.”
I drained my glass and we went into the early evening which was chilly, damp and surprisingly busy.
--
I sat on the sofa and watched Sandor in the adjoining kitchen make something Hungarian. I looked around the place, noticing the way the two of them had melded their belongings in the flat. Melded their lives as well. They seemed so bonded and at that moment, I was envious. I never imagined that Sergio and I could feel distant, but we did.
We ate at their little table and talked about easy things. I told stories about my students, he told me about various advertising projects. It felt like it had always felt with him: relaxed and safe.
Once the dishes had been washed, we settled on the sofa with our wine. Sandor finally said, “Do you two have time to fuck?”
I laughed and shook my head. “Sometimes. Usually late at night, or in the morning.”
Sandor chuckled and stretched his long legs out. He turned to me and I could see from his face what he was thinking. He reached his hand out and put it on my thigh. “I had told myself you and I wouldn't ever...after that one time with Sergio...but I'm wondering if you need some attention.”
I looked down at his hand. Sandor, I suddenly noticed, has all this blonde hair on his knuckles that I hadn't noticed before, even after all the years of knowing him. It somehow seemed very sexy in that moment. He moved his hand slowly up my leg stopping just below where my balls were. I looked at him a moment. I wanted to. But I wondered if I would be making things worse. Would it just be about getting back at Sergio? If he can do it, so can I? But I dug a little deeper into what I was feeling and realized that my desire to be get naked with my best friend was more about comfort. Security. Trust. All the things that at that moment I had lost touch with around Sergio.
But maybe it was also the low-level annoyance I felt at Sergio, or maybe it was the wine, but I took Sandor's hand and moved it to the bulge in my pants. I said, “Yeah. We should. I want to. Aravind won't mind?”
Sandor's smile got really big. He said, “Our rule is a little more flexible than yours: we can have sex with friends and try to avoid random hookups. You're a friend. You're my best friend and we've done this before, right?”
I nodded, watching his hand massage my crotch, feeling my cock filling my pants so it was almost uncomfortable. There was a rush of excitement in my gut. I remembered the time Sergio and I had spent with Sandor. Of fucking him. And more importantly, being fucked by him and that champion cock of his. And I trusted Sandor. He had been in my life most of my life.
I realized he was slowly unzipping my pants. I helped him and pulled them open, pulling my cock out which was aching and tingling. We leaned into each other and our mouths met softly, our lips touching each other almost tentatively. I leaned back, checking his face for I don't know what, then I kissed him more firmly. I felt his hand grip my throbbing meat and stroke. His hand felt hot. I was fucking horny, that was clear.
I untangling my tongue from his and pulled my trousers down and then reached for the fly of his. I could tell there was a lot going on in there and I wanted to see it. He helped me by standing up and yanking them down to his shins, along with his underwear. I looked at that magnificent thing, that long delicious muscle and grabbed his plump ass and pulled him closer. I moaned and took hold of his cock, stroking while my mouth got busy, my tongue slathering it with spit. His cock felt hot against my mouth and smelled all animal and rich. I felt my own cock twitch as I sucked him down as far as I could go. He swore and pushed me further, choking me a little. I was used to Sergio's dick, but this was a whole other category. I tried to do some deep-throating, which I just managed. I leaned back and watched a pearl of pre-cum oozing out of that beautiful dick. I grabbed it with my tongue and almost shot my load it tasted so good.
But he pulled me off the sofa and without a word, led me to the bedroom and threw me down. I shrugged out of my shirt and kicked my boxers off. I felt a little crazy, but I managed to say, “You better fucking lube that thing so that when you fuck me, it doesn't kill me...”
Sandor laughed and looked adorable, but he reached into the side table for the lube and did as I said. He was like a little boy with a new toy. I was amazed at the change in him. He never used to be this excitable and eager and dominant. But I liked it. At that moment, I wanted a good friend to fuck my cares away. It was sex but it was also years of affection and loyalty.
Once his cock was all shiny, he said, “Get on your hands and knees. I want to take you from behind.”
I was fine with that. I turned around and presented my ass to him which he took in both hands and started to nudge his cock in the crack and not delicately. He growled at me, “Get ready...”
But I already was. After almost three years of Sergio's not quite as big cock, I knew what to do. I took some breaths and waited for the invasion. At first he just gyrated the head of his sticky cock around my hole, but then began to push and press, then he slid in, and fast. It was a shock and I gasped, but at the same time, my cock began to almost throb and as I stroked myself with one hand, I could feel a gush of pre-cum spurt out. I threw my head back and got lost in the painful ecstasy. I moaned, “Fucking right! Drill me into the bed!”
So he did. His hands gripped my shoulders and I felt his cock begin to pummel me, like one of those huge machines that drills giant holes into rock, he took my ass. He owned it. I had never imagined gentle Sandor capable of being such a premium stud, but I liked it. He clearly had learned some things since coming out.
I decided to get off on the whole thing by saying, “Fuck me with that thing, Sandor. Fuck me like you've never fucked before. I want your cum to fill me up so it comes out of my mouth...” Did I mention I was a little crazy? Yeah. I was. Sergio had pissed me off and I wanted this to be the antidote.
Sandor swore under his breath, but then I heard him say, “You're taking my big dick really well, Stan. Should I fuck you harder?”
“As hard as you want!”
And he did. He took the motion of his hips up a level and almost smacked me forward on the bed. I had to brace myself. I couldn't stroke my own cock since I needed both arms to keep from collapsing. But then I did collapse, falling onto my chest so my ass arched up, but he kept going, fucking harder. I could feel his balls hitting my butt cheeks, and his hands on my hips had me in a death grip.
He finally almost yelled and said, “Take my cum you little slut!”
I was shocked, but I liked it. I wanted to be a little slut in that moment. I wanted to be wanton and crazy and not have a care in the world. It felt liberating as I moaned, “Give it to me!”
Somewhere in the middle of all those last almost painful thrusts, he must have cum. He was breathing heavily and pulled out of my ass. I could feel it oozing out. I reached around and stuck some fingers in my gaping asshole and brought them to my mouth, sucking my fingers, tasting my friend's cum.
Then I did it again, and got on my back, jacking myself fast with his cum. But then Sandor took over, pushing my hand aside and sucked on the end, pumping with his fist and I lost it. It was like my body let go of all the frustration of the last few months and my body melted down and my cock blasted Sandor's mouth. I felt like it lasted a week as I held his head down.
When my body settled, he sat up and grinned at me, a little river of cum coming out of the side of his mouth. He swallowed and said, “When was the last time you got off?”
I laughed and sat up. “Oh...not long ago, but I guess I was still pent up. Thanks, Sandor. That's exactly what I needed.”
He crossed his legs, he big dick soft now, but still impressive, lying there all wet and beautiful between his legs. He looked at me thoughtfully, then said, “Are you going to tell Sergio?”
I had already thought about that. “No. Not right now. I'll tell him some other time when we've resolved this. Assuming we do.”
Sandor reached for my hand and said, “You will solve this, Stan. Just keep talking to each other. Don't hold back. Even about this. You came to me for a reason, and you let me fuck you for a reason and he needs to know what that is.”
He had a good point. I nodded and got off the bed, looking for my clothes. “On that note, I guess I should head home.”
When I was all dressed, I kissed Sandor and went into the evening. It wasn't late, so I took my time getting back to our house. Sergio wasn't back yet, so I had a shower and got into bed. I felt both exhausted and relaxed and was asleep really fast. I woke up when I felt Sergio slip in beside me and let him curl himself around me, as he always did. That felt nice, but it also felt like he was apologizing somehow.
I turned over and looked at his face in the dim light. He looked back at me and it was as if we didn't know each other. And I could smell it: that randy smell of someone who had just been fucked. Cum. Sweat. Someone else's cologne. I reached around and held his ass in my hands and pulled him close. His cock was soft against mine. The burst of anger I felt that he wouldn't just tell me came and went and I sighed. I decided in that moment I couldn't do anything, so I kissed him and closed my eyes.
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