Stan and Sergio in a Hotel, Again
“What the hell has he done, Stan?”
Sergio looked pissed, but not very convincingly. He was trying to be in prosecutor mode, but it wasn't working. He picked up his wine glass and shakily took a sip, looking around the room as if he didn't know how he got there. I sipped my wine, feeling a little uneasy myself, saying, “He told us, Sergio. He's worried about us. I'm worried about us.”
He sighed and stared at the cutlery in front of him which gleamed in the light. He looked up at me. “I'm sorry, Stan...”
I was not going to let him off easily. “For what, exactly?”
“You know...for not being around. For being bitchy. For sleeping with Marcus.”
I put my glass down a little harder than I wanted to. “The part where you aren't around and bitchy I can accept. But it's not that you slept with that shit. You could have slept with anyone, Sergio. All I wanted was for you to tell me about it.”
“But that wasn't our agreement....”
I looked up at the ceiling, at all the old mouldings and shiny bits. Ridiculous. I said, “I know that, you twit. But agreements always get broken. The other part that should have been obvious was we would tell each other when we broke it. You didn't. Except for the first time.” I stopped, feeling heated. “And I know you're still fucking him. And more to the point, you haven't told me.”
Now he looked uncomfortable. At that moment, the waiter came back. He was very sweet and gracious and I had noticed Bruno eyeing him, which I completely understood. I would have if I had been single, or if I was looking for a quick shag. But I wasn't.
We placed our orders and the tall, willowy man wandered off. Before I could say anything, Sergio said, “I've been so stressed and tired...and working so close with Marcus...he just keeps offering...and I know he's an idiot...but...”
I leaned back in my chair. “Yeah. I get it. And you keep accepting his offers. But why haven't you told me?”
The damn waiter came back with a basket of bread. What is it about restaurants and those stupid little baskets? I glared at the waiter who took the hint and crept away. But Sergio didn't answer. We sat in silence for a while. I twiddled with my cutlery and looked at the couple next to us who were old and clearly rich. The woman's hair looked like it had been styled with a blow torch. I almost laughed.
Our waiter silently reappeared after a while with our crab salads. I had ordered almost at random, not really hungry, not really reading the menu. But it gave me something to do with my hands so I didn't strangle Sergio, who, to give him credit, looked very unhappy.
I gulped my wine and ate the tasteless food. Sergio tried to engage me in a conversation about the price of shoes or something stupid like that. I was having none of it.
When I finished my salad and my wine glass was empty, I said, “So? You still haven't answered my question. I'm starting to think it's because you fell for that upper class idiot.”
Sergio actually laughed, which startled the hell out of me. It wasn't a pleasant laugh. It was more like the kind of laugh you get when your house has burned down but your hateful neighbour's house burned down with it. I said through gritted teeth, “What the hell, Sergio?”
He sighed and his body seemed to shrink. He waved the waiter over and asked him, “When can we check into our room?”
The waiter – whose name I learned later was James – looked at his watch and said, “Any time after two...it's half-past one now.” He looked a little like Sandor, I realized, but taller and slimmer.
Sergio looked at me and said, “Let's have some cake or something.” He had an almost manic look on his face. I didn't know how to respond, but then I nodded.
So we had cake. We paid the bill and went to the front desk and got our room fob and made our way to the top floor where we found a very elegant suite waiting for us. I wondered how much it had cost, but decided that if this was a gift of sorts, I wasn't to ask.
I sat on the bed and sighed, looking at the ostentatious room. The bed had this gilt bedspread on it that made me think some rich American had designed the place. I yearned for a threadbare room in an ancient little inn somewhere. Sergio sat beside me and we looked at each other. I said, “What now?”
Sergio touched my face and said, “Take off your clothes.”
For a second I almost said something caustic, but then I felt a part of me give way. I undid my shirt and tossed it on the floor. I stood up and kicked off my shoes and stepped out of my trousers. Feeling ridiculous, I pulled off my briefs and stood there, looking down at Sergio. My cock wasn't hard. Not even a little.
He stood up and did the same. I stared at his familiar body, his strong shoulders, his tan skin, the dark hair around his cock and all over his chest. I felt the slightest twinge in my balls remembering the first time I had seen him naked when we were stoned and drunk under the palm trees in Vanuatu. It felt like a million years ago.
He took my hand and pulled me onto the bed. We lay there for a minute, still holding hands. He turned to me and said, “Do you remember when I kissed you the first time? In the hallway of the hotel?”
The question hurt in that moment. “How could I forget? It was the most surprising moment of my life.” It was, and it changed my life forever. Was this moment going to change it again?
Turning to look at him, I saw that his eyes had filled and there were tears running down his face. I felt a moment of panic. Was this grief at having to tell me it was over? But he said, “When I kissed you that day in the hotel, it was like everything I had ever yearned for became real. Since we were young, Stan, I have always wanted you. Just you. I was always jealous that you and Carlos were best friends. I always wanted you to see me, see how much I yearned for you. When you set me up with Liam when we were about sixteen, I went along with it because I wanted to please you. Only you.”
He stopped. I could tell he was feeling a lot. He swallowed and gripped my hand more tightly. “So that first kiss – the one you weren't expecting - was like the universe giving you to me. So no, I haven't fallen for Marcus. In fact having sex with him is ridiculous compared to how you and I are together. He's a fucking tosser. He's an idiot. I don't even understand how he got through law school. He must have sucked the right cocks, that's all I can say. He can't even kiss properly. I only did it because I was tired, I was stressed and he has a big cock that he knows how to use. And he asked and he kept asking and it was easy and took my mind off my work. And more importantly, I didn't tell you because I felt ashamed for continuing to shag such a pillock. I got off. I filled him with cum a few times. It was just mechanics. But you? Stan, you are the only one who counts. I will never be sorry enough for all this. And for not talking to you. That's the thing I most regret.”
He was crying and so was I. I had started almost the second he began to speak. But the last bit, about me being the only one? That did it. I reached for him, I pulled myself on top of him and looked right into those dark, coffee-coloured eyes with their big lashes all glistening with his tears. My tears were dripping on his face. I said, “Fuck you for being so sweet!”
We stared at each other for a few moments. The fact that his eyes were swimming with tears, that his face was streaked with them, that his bottom lip was trembling, trying to keep all the feelings he had from bursting out, settled me. There he was. The real Sergio. The Sergio I loved more than I thought possible.
As I lay on top of him, I felt our cocks begin to get busy with each other: swelling and growing and getting hot. I wriggled my hips so they rubbed together and I kissed him, tasting our tears, tasting his mouth. He felt so familiar, he tasted like Sergio, his body seemed to fit against mine like we were two pieces of a puzzle that had been lost and now were put back together.
I kissed his neck, licked his collar-bones, sucked my way down to his nipples which I chewed on while he gasped and jammed his cock against my belly. I ran my mouth over the dark, trimmed hair on his chest, smelling his rich smell, his skin electric under my tongue, his nipples, when I bit them, grew hard and tasted salty.
I moved lower until I could inhale that cock of his, that hard, meaty thing that I love. He tasted a little sweaty, but his sweet pre-cum was in full flow. I felt his hands on my head and he gently fucked my mouth while I slid my hand between his legs and found his most vulnerable place, fingering my way in. I felt like it had been ages since we had had the time for this and it was like discovering him all over again.
I sucked on my fingers and pushed them into him, then drizzled some spit into him, moving my fingers around, lubing him. Then, when I sat up, I got my cock all slippery, but then Sergio sat up and sucked me for a minute, adding his own wetness. He looked up at me and said, “I'm yours, you know. Fuck me like I'm yours.” His face was breaking up again, more tears slid out of his eyes which were squeezing shut as if he couldn't bear something. I leaned forward and said, all soft and insistent, “You are mine.”
I pushed myself in between his legs and lifted his hips and let my bodyweight guide my cock in. He gasped and stroked his own cock, swivelling his hips so help me get to the root of my dick, my balls resting comfortable on him. I couldn't quite kiss him but I locked eyes with my man and started to fuck slowly. He was stroking himself in time and we were moving together, as we always had, whether it was fucking or doing anything else.
He warm ass seemed to be caressing me and the slight friction of fucking without lube was driving me crazy. I sped up, adjusting my grip and I said, “Fucking you is be best thing I can think of doing right now...or any time. Except you fucking me...” I stopped and concentrated on the sensation of being deep inside his body. Then I grinned, feeling wicked, and said, “Does Marcus fuck you as well as this?”
His smile was complicated and he reached around and slapped my ass, then grabbed both cheeks and pulled me deeper. “Not even close. Marcus may have a big prick, but he's also a big prick. It's all about him. This is all about us.”
I laughed, almost feeling relieved. I put more energy into my hips, and with each thrust, Sergio gradually wormed his fingers into my hole which sent me even further up the slope until I lost it suddenly, my whole body buzzing as my cock erupted inside him. He seemed to have timed his own orgasm perfectly, because he starting to jerk really quickly and lightening jets of cum streaked across his chest, hitting his chin, dribbling down his neck and pooling on his belly. I hadn't seen him produce so much before. He was gasping and I could hardly breathe.
I slowly pulled out and collapsed beside him. I turned and licked up some of his cum and we kissed for a while: soft, gentle little touches with a pause as I lapped up the rest of his cum and fed it to him. He tasted like the best dessert. All I could smell was us: our sweat, cum, our spent and happy bodies.
--
We dozed for a while, then pulled ourselves out of bed and had a long shower together, carefully washing each other, feeling each other's skin, kissing and holding each other under the hot spray.
When we finally emerged from the room, we were all clean and ready to eat more. We found an Italian restaurant down the street and ate pasta and drank too much red wine. We talked about simple things: repairs to the house, groceries. The usual boring details couples talk to each other about. But after a while, when the plates had been cleared, I was ready for round two. He didn't know there was going to be one, but I wasn't finished.
I cleared my throat and had a long sip of wine. “So...one thing I've been thinking regarding our lives is your schedule. It's a problem.”
Sergio nodded. It was obvious to both of us that I was right. He said, “I know. I've been thinking about that as well.”
Encouraged by that, I said, “Well here's my thought. You have this PhD. Why don't you use it? I guess what I mean is, you could teach rather than practice, or at least you could have a part-time practice. Surely a professor doesn't work half as hard as a Crown Prosecutor. Right?”
He looked startled which startled me. Surely he had thought of this? I could see him thinking, pushing a spoon across the table with his forefinger. Then he shook his head and said, “I don't know, Stan. I mean, you're right. I could. But I've never seen myself with students.”
“Have you ever done it?”
“Some. When I was finishing my thesis. But that was general lectures to first year law students. Really boring.”
That made sense to me, but I kept going. “But I think a teaching position would be different, wouldn't it? You'd be teaching smaller groups? Leading tutorials for graduate students? I don't know, I'm guessing here...you're the brain in the family.”
With a snort, he took my hand and kissed it. “You're right Stan. You're always right. I've never really looked into it. Practising law always seemed so alluring. Romantic. I know it sounds stupid. But maybe you're right. I should ask some of my old professors for advice. Because I agree with you. I can't keep this up for much longer. It's too stressful and is threatening the thing that is most precious to me in the world: us.”
It was exactly what I wanted to hear and I could feel the tears coming back. I squeezed his hand in return and said, “I'm relieved to hear this, Sergio. If you hadn't understood me...well...things would have been difficult. Right?”
His eyes were filling up as well. We had both been on the edge. “Right. I can't even imagine...”
Shaking my head and taking a deep breath, stilling myself, I managed to say, “And if you get a position somewhere else, I'm sure I can find a school to teach at.”
But tears were running down my face. He took my hand and kissed it again. Just that. It felt like a declaration.
We ate tiramisu and talked more about the future possibilities. It was exciting. I could see a way forward for us. That had been, I realized, one of the problems I hadn't seen until that moment. I had been unable to see how we could continue the way we were.
With part two of our conversation done, we walked slowly back to the hotel and went to our room. We got out of our clothes and into the enormous bathtub, filling it with bubbles and with us. After we dragged ourselves out, our skin wrinkled from the hot water, Sergio gently, but firmly, pushed me face first onto the bed. I pushed my hips up, very happy to know what was coming.
I felt his mouth on my ass, his tongue digging into me, swirling around and making everything slippery. Then his got on top of me and his big Spanish cock pushed into me. Not too forcefully, but with assurance. This was the Sergio I loved. When he was deep in me, he whispered in my ear, “I don't know how I could do this without you. Living, I mean.”
My dam burst and the tears flowed, but I also felt an overwhelming pleasure from him starting to thrust, to fuck, to jam his big throbbing dick as deep as it would go, plastering me to the bed, making it rock, and then thud against the wall. His thrusts quickly became intense, and the bed was complaining, my asshole was tingling and hot, his body smacking against my back and I could feel his balls hitting my ass with each thrust.
He raised himself up on his arms for better traction and fucked me even more forcefully. I like to fuck and I'm not bad at it, but Sergio is a master. He kept it up for what felt like an hour. I just lay there, the force of his body rubbing my own cock on the bed. I didn't need to do anything. It was a reminder that Sergio was definitely the top. Most of the time. Until emergencies like the one we just had. In those situations, I take charge. But now I could let him take me.
He finally almost bellowed and pulled out of me and jacked a few huge gushes of cum on my ass then stuck his cock back in, still erupting, filling me with more. I felt it running out as he began to slowly calm down. He gently pulled his streaming dick out of my hole and I felt his tongue delicately lap up all his cum, cleaning between my cheeks, tonguing where his cock had been, then finally kissing the little divot at the base of my spine.
But I wasn't done. I firmly nudged him off me, and, stroking my cock, got up and slid it into his mouth just as I blew up, exploding into his mouth. He grunted and swallowed and when I pulled out, one last rope of cum streamed out onto the dark stubble on his chin. I leaned down and licked it up, and then we went back to our long, intense kissing which seemed to last another hour.
When we finally lay back, gasping. I reached for his hand and said, “If we weren't already married, I would ask you to marry me again.”
He laughed and kissed me. “And I would say yes.”
We fell asleep really fast, tucked under the ridiculous golden bedspread until late the next morning.
--
We left the hotel just before lunch. The weather was fine: sunny and still, but cold. We decided to walk home through the quiet streets, holding hands and talking about the future.
That morning, Sergio had woken me up by sliding his cock into me and fucking me for ages, while I slowly stroked myself to an unbelievably intense explosion all over the bed that probably kept the laundry department busy for a while.
Just before we left our room, we texted Sandor and Bruno to tell them that all was well and to thank them for their intervention. I felt so grateful for the friends we have and their love and loyalty. That's what we want from them, right? Even more than relatives, these people who we have chosen give us the freedom to be ourselves but also tell us when we're not being ourselves.
Even though we thought the hotel was a bit much, we were grateful to it, in a strange way, for giving us the space to find our way back to each other.
We returned to our house and it was as if we had never been there before. It felt different. It felt like our home and not because of its physical qualities, but because of us together imbuing everything with Stan and Sergio energy. I felt we were back to being able to do anything together.
I was sitting on the sofa late that afternoon, and Sergio was sitting with his laptop opposite me, cross-legged in a chair. Adorable. He was researching universities that might be looking to hire. That was exciting to see.
I suddenly realized something, so I said, “We need to thank Bruno for what he did for us. I mean he more or less saved our relationship.”
Looking up, Sergio said, “Yeah. I was thinking about that, too. Why don't we have him over tonight...assuming he's still here.”
I smiled. “He is. He just sent me a text...he's at Sandor's...I think they're getting along really well, if you know what I mean.”
Sergio laughed and said, “Well we can show him our gratitude as well.”
So I texted Bruno and told him to get over as quickly as he could. I was excited to see him after all this and not just because Sergio and I would have our way with him.
Bruno arrived within the hour and we had him naked and in our bed within minutes. He looked very happy and we had a long, threeway kiss with our friend, the friend who saved our marriage. Looking back, I wonder if someone would think it wasn't such a crisis. I mean all Sergio did was to fuck some twit and not tell me. But for us, it was big. We had always been honest with each other and honesty felt central to our connection. So Sergio not being honest? That was a big deal.
So when Sergio and I sucked Bruno's cock back and forth we were a team again. We sucked him together, we shared his balls between us. We fucked him in tandem, alternating between his mouth and his ass until Sergio, after a few minutes of bashing the poor boy into the bed, filled his ass with cum and then I pushed him out of the way, slipping my cock in around all of Sergio's cum to which I added an equal quantity.
When I pulled out, I lubed up my hole with some of our cum and sat on Bruno's dick while Sergio kissed my whole body and Bruno brought himself to a big finale, thudding up into me, jets of his cream filling me and drooling down all over his cock.
I collapsed on the bed and the three of us lay there all sweaty, breathing heavily. Sergio held my hand and Bruno kissed my shoulder. It all felt like things had returned to the way they were supposed to be. Sergio and I held Bruno between us as if he was the rock that kept us together.
When I woke up, the sun pouring into the bedroom, I realized that Bruno had left. For a moment, I felt bad, but then I realized I was glad it was just the two of us. I pulled Sergio close to me and he moaned in his sleep as I wrapping my arms around his torso, grateful the universe had given me this person. And I felt a wave of gratitude for what Bruno had done for us.
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