James Tells a Story About Bruno
I may be younger than Bruno, but I'm not stupid. Just because someone is young, doesn't mean they aren't able to see clearly and see clearly what must be done. But I was in love with Bruno. I think ever since the moment I saw him sitting at that table in the restaurant I worked in I'd loved him.
That day when he came up to me before leaving the restaurant? After – as I learned later – arranging for his two best friends to figure out their shit, and coming over to me all smiles? That was almost impossible to believe. He was so sweet and nervous, but open and interested. His dark curls and deep brown eyes were bewitching. How could I not fall for him?
So we started to date. Well, let's be clear. We started to fuck and then date. Sometimes on the same night. He really likes to fuck me, which I'm all about. He's an eager, energetic lover. Adventurous and sweet at the same time. Bruno has had a lot of sex with people, and I told him it was fine if he wanted to continue. It kind of turned me on, if I'm honest, to imagine him in bed with other guys. And sometimes he lets me watch, which is fun. I like to watch him fuck a guy really hard, then fuck me right after.
And I often remembered the time he and I and Stan and Sergio had sex in their living room in Manchester, in front the fire. It still got me hard to remember. Stan had had a very exciting birthday party and I feel like I got to know them really fast.
Travelling from Manchester was not that hard and given that both of us worked in restaurants, our schedules were very flexible. He came up from Bristol just as often so we saw each other for a couple of days a week when the stars were aligned.
Somewhere in our third month of dating something began to change. We were lying in my bed in my flat in Manchester after a particularly intense fuck and I was sweaty and my face was sticky with his cum. He turned to me and said, “Do you like it when I'm a little crazy in bed?”
A little puzzled, I turned to him. He grinned and wiped some of the cum off my face with his hand and licked it off. I said, “I don't know...what do you mean?”
He sighed and said, “Like just now...when I did what I did...was it too much?”
I laughed. He was referring to fucking me on the floor, then jacking a huge load all over my face. “Bruno...that was fun. It wasn't like we were in public, or you were posting it on youtube, right? At least I hope you didn't.”
He took my hand and kissed it, shaking his head. “Just asking...”
We lay for a while, talking about future plans and old boyfriends. It was nice and comfortable. But I could tell he was restless. He kept wriggling in the bed as if there was something making him itchy. He got up and I heard water running in the kitchen, then sat down on the edge of the bed with two glasses. His leg was bouncing up and down really fast. It was odd, but I didn't give it much thought.
The next week, I drove down to Bristol in the rain. We had a quiet night and then the next day, after his shift at the restaurant, I came to collect him to go out for dinner. He looked tired, but seemed very wide awake. He pulled me into the kitchen of the restaurant and pushed me into the cooler, kissing me, driving his tongue into my mouth. It was exciting and I got on my knees and pulled his cock out. In the cold, I sucked it deep into my throat as he groaned above me.
I was so focused on the hot flesh in my face, that I didn't notice the door open until I realized there was someone standing beside Bruno. I looked up, startled, and saw it was Franz, another waiter I had met, kissing him like crazy. Franz and Bruno had fucked a couple of times, but this felt different. Accidental and really hot. I pulled Franz's cock out and tried to stuff both of them into my mouth. Franz was this tall – taller than me – black guy with a thick cock that I was very happy to have in my mouth. The pubes around his dick were dense and he had these balls that hung low, all delicious and soft. He took my head in his hands and jammed himself into my throat. Bruno got down beside me and both of us took turns swallowing it and running our tongues all over his big hairy sac. He smelled all steamy and spicy which turned me on even more.
But Bruno seemed to want more and he got behind Franz and started to fuck him, and hard, and I could tell that Franz wasn't into it, but he went along with it for a moment, probably because his cock was still halfway down my throat. But all of a sudden, Franz pulled himself out of me, and stepped back, hiking up his pants. He looked at Bruno and said, “Hey mate, you need to calm down...”
He turned and left the cooler. I felt bad and embarrassed but Bruno seemed even more frustrated and he pulled me up, obviously getting ready to fuck me, but I stopped him. I pushed him against the wall and said, “Bruno! Settle down...let's go home and we can start where we left off.”
He looked at me a moment and I could see a whole bunch of things in his expression: anger, surprise, guilt. He sighed and nodded. “Sorry...I got carried away...”
“It's all right, Bruno. There's nothing wrong with being excited.”
I could tell he wasn't convinced and I didn't really understand why. But we got to his flat and I made us some drinks and we sat on the sofa listening to music. I could tell he was still buzzing but was obviously holding himself still. Finally I slid my hand in his trousers and stroked him to delicious hardness. I got out of my clothes and sat on his lap, impaling myself. Bruno grinned at me and started to work very hard, thrusting up into me, his hips bashing into me. It almost hurt, but I like that kind of pain, so I went with it. And when he dumped a load in me, I leaned down and we kissed. I could feel all the wetness in my hole. I pulled off him and turned around and fed him my ass which he licked and slurped at for a while.
Then, to my amazement, he threw me face down on the sofa and fucked me again, mashing me into the cushions and when he reached another explosion, he swore in my ear, but was all gentle and affectionate after. We slept for a while, then I woke up and he was fucking me yet again, my hole still sloppy with his cum. Then he let me fuck him and I blew my load on his chest because he wanted us to fall asleep glued together with my cum. I thought it was a little strange, but I went with it.
In the morning, he fucked me even harder. I was sore by this point, and amazed he had so much stamina – and cum. I said, “How can you keep this up?” He just laughed and flattened me into the bed, his cock going so deep I thought I would split in two. When he was almost there, he pulled out of me and stood up, stroking he cock hard and fast and blew an enormous load all over me. But the look on his face wasn't about pleasure. It seemed to be about something else, but I couldn't tell what. He
He leaned down and slurped and licked all his cum off my body and fed it to me, almost too forcefully. But we kissed afterward and for a moment, at least, he seemed to calm down.
--
But after three days of him fucking me at least three times a day, of him fucking me in the bathroom of the restaurant where I worked, of him fucking me and two guys we met at a bar near his flat, after sucking me off in the elevator of a random office building downtown where we almost got caught when I dumped a load in his mouth just before the door slid open and two middle-aged businessmen got on, I started to feel uncomfortable. Something wasn't right. It wasn't just the risk-taking. It was his energy. His blind, compulsion to fuck.
He had a little blob of my cum at the corner of his mouth, but I don't think the businessmen noticed. I knew something was wrong.
When we got to his flat, I sat on his sofa and felt exhausted and a little uneasy. He was pacing the room with a bottle of lager in his hands as if he was waiting for an audition to some show. “Bruno...why don't you sit down...you're making me nervous.”
He winced, but sat down beside me. I could smell the adrenalin coming off him as if he hadn't showered in a few days. His eyes were a little bloodshot and his skin was pale. I said, taking his hand, “Is everything all right?”
He turned and with a flash of anger, said, “Of course everything's fucking all right!”
Stunned, I stood up and reached for my jacket. “Bruno...I don't know what's got into you, but I'm not going to be around someone who talks to me that way.”
He leapt to his feet, frantic. “I'm sorry, James! I'm so sorry...”
But I was having none of it. I needed to get away from him, so I left, saying, “I'll call you when I get back to Manchester.”
--
I did call him when I got home and we talked for a little while. He seemed calmer. I called him the next day, but he didn't answer. I fretted through my shift at the restaurant and he finally called me at around eight. He talked fast and I could barely understand him. He finally said, “I'm coming up tonight...don't go to bed!”
A little stunned, I didn't say anything. I waited, trying to read a book, and then my phone rang around ten. I could tell he was calling from a bar, because there was loud music in the background and I could barely hear him. He almost yelled, “Come join me! I'm at The Rendezvous. It will be fun.”
The Rendezvous was a slightly grimy bar I never went to and I didn't realize Bruno even knew about it since he didn't live in Manchester. I was irritated but I decided to meet him. It was a bar I was frankly a little scared of. It had a “dark room” at the back where men got up to all sorts.
When I got there, I saw him at the bar with a beer in his hand. His shirt was off and tucked into his jean. He was talking to this incredibly built guy who was wearing nothing but leather shorts and a baseball cap. I could tell right away this guy was tripping on something. His eyes were wide and there were little flakes of white at the corner of his mouth.
“Hey, James! Meet Timothy...”
Timothy looked at me and nodded. I could tell he didn't really see me. I ordered a beer and when I turned back, Timothy had his hand in Bruno's jeans. Bruno turned to me and said, “You want to come to the back with us?”
I was about to refuse, but then I felt a little stab of fear and longing, as if I could prevent something from happening. But of course I couldn't.
We went into the dark room and Timothy got on his knees and rummaged in Bruno's pants, pulling out his cock then devouring it. I wasn't turned on, but I began to kiss Bruno anyway. I could taste something metallic and strange in his mouth. Timothy got into my pants and soon he was slurping us both in, but my cock refused to cooperate. Bruno said, “What's wrong, James. Have some fun for a change...”
At that, I had had enough. I pulled myself away, pulled up my trousers and without saying anything, left. I almost ran out of the bar and into the first taxi I saw.
--
I didn't hear from Bruno for a day and then there was a flood of texts and voicemails the whole time I was at the restaurant. He was back in Bristol, that much I understood. Later, when I called him, he didn't answer and didn't answer for several days. I was frantic. I thought I had done something wrong, that he was mad at me. That's my thing, I suppose. I hate feeling like I've done the wrong thing. But a part of me knew I hadn't.
Early the following week, he called me.
“James...I'm so sorry about the other night. I was a beast.”
“A beast? I don't know about that. But you weren't yourself, Bruno. And who is Timothy, anyway?”
There was a silence. “Uh...yeah...Timothy's just this fellow I met that night. No one special...”
“Bruno...I don't care if hook up with guys, I was just curious. He seemed a little...I don't know...strung out.”
“I know, James. I think he does a lot of crystal. I shouldn't be around people like that, I guess.”
With a sigh, I said, “Maybe not. You're better than that, Bruno.”
There was silence for a moment then his voice was quiet. “I don't know if I am, James. You make me better...”
The pain in his voice was thick and heavy. I finally said, “I'm coming to Bristol, okay? Can I?”
“Yeah. That would be nice. But I don't want to inconvenience you...”
Now I was getting pissed. “Shut up. You're not inconveniencing me. I want to. You're important to me. So I'll come.”
I drove through a rainy afternoon, the clouds seeming so low they blended with the grey fields. The drive seemed to settle me a little, giving me a chance to decide how to be with him, what to do. When I arrived at his flat, he was quiet and subdued. I noticed the place was a little messy, which was unusual for him. And he was a little messy: unshaven, unwashed. It was strange. “How are you?” I was worried my voice sounded accusatory.
“Oh...I'm all right. A little tired.” He leaned against me and it felt like I was holding him upright.
I looked at him. I mean really looked at him. He looked exhausted and his eyes were half-open and bloodshot. I took his hand. “You don't look all right.” I leaned in and kissed him very softly. I hate saying this, but his breath was not great.
With a sigh, he said, “Stop worrying about me. I'm fine...I'm going to be fine. I just need...”
I said into the blank he left, “Just need what?” The tone of his voice worried me.
“I just need you to trust me that I'll be fine.”
I looked at our hands that were entwined between us. I knew something was wrong. Something had changed again. A week before, energy was coming off him like sparks from a flame. Now he seemed diminished, flat. Part of me wanted to suggest we fuck, but I somehow knew that all the sex in the world wouldn't solve this. Part of me wanted to take him to the nearest A & E and have a doctor look at him.
He let go of my hand and said, “James...maybe you should go back to Manchester. There's no point hanging around here waiting for me to be more cheerful. In fact,” and he stopped for a moment. He swallowed and his eyes shut as if he had just tasted something bad. “I think we should not see each other anymore. I think that would be best. I'm no good for you.”
A little stunned, I tried to make sense of what he was saying. “Bruno...what the fuck? What's this all about?” I stopped, feeling heated. “Where is this coming from?”
His face seemed to harden as if I had said something wrong. “It's pretty simple. Go. We're done. Don't worry about me.”
I could tell he was working hard to seem all stoic and hard, but the attempt made him seem anything but. I tried to think of something to say, but my mind had gone blank. I loved him. That was clear to me, but at that moment, I didn't know what to do, despite wanting to do everything. I took his hand, trying not to cry, but then let it go when I realized he wasn't responding, his hand limp and cold. It felt like a refusal. I got up and put my jacket on, not looking at him, not wanting to see his agonized eyes.
I opened the door to the flat and glanced over. He was staring into his lap.
--
I sat in my car for a while, feeling desperate, feeling lost. I realized I needed help. I needed not to be alone with this. I knew that Bruno's parents were in The Azores. I had no idea if he had any other family in Bristol. I had met a few of his friends, but I didn't know how to get a hold of them. Then I suddenly remembered Stan and Sergio. I knew they lived close to Warwick which, in the scheme of things, didn't seem that far away. So I found a petrol station, filled up the car, looked at a map on my phone and started to drive.
I remembered they lived near a town called Shrewley and, suddenly, remembered that Stan had texted me a silly cartoon early on in my relationship with Bruno. I searched my phone and found it, feeling relieved. I had a phone number and a plan.
I got to Shrewley in less than ninety minutes. I was probably driving too fast. It was a small village, mostly houses and a church or two. But I saw an old pub on the high street and parked. I got inside, out of the rain, and called Stan. I knew it was crazy to show up at someone's house who I barely knew, but Stan and Sergio were close to Bruno. I hadn't seen them since Stan's birthday in Manchester when we had that crazy, amazing experience with them in Stan's living room. It felt like a hundred years ago. But I knew there was nothing else I could do and I wanted to do something.
When I got off the phone with Stan, I felt better. I felt relieved that I wasn't alone with this. I felt grateful that he had immediately wanted me to come over. Even though I was a little embarrassed to be showing up out of the blue, I knew that Bruno needed help and I wanted to be a part of that.
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