Giving in to my desire
Over the next couple of days, every time I wanted to ring him I either got a busy signal from his phone, or got pulled away to do something else, or someone was hovering for something. In the evening, my landlord’s agent arrived, demanding to see the damage to my flat. It wasn’t until he’d taken himself off—annoyed because he’d managed to get dirt on his fancy suit poking at the ceiling and breaking a bit that dropped on his head dumping all the pigeon shit and dirt, now a sort of muddy paste, that I wondered what had kicked his butt into coming. I’d sent off an email and not really expected any response.
On the next evening, I called as soon as I got home, still holding the post which included two letters from the landlord’s agents.
“Oubliette Specialist Gear,” I heard as he answered.
“Hi,” I swallowed. “Dave, I just wanted to say thanks for the gift. I’m wearing the yellow one today. I love them, and I love the feel of wearing them—better than my lycra …”
“Does it look good? More important, do they feel good?”
“It feels fabulous.” Hesitating, I said, “I’ve never seen anything like them in a catalogue.”
“That’s because they’re bespoke, Tom. Made for you.” Pausing I could hear he was wanting to ask something more.
“That makes them even more special then, Dave. Um, I want to say, I’ve thought about what you said the other night … Um, I’m not sure I can be a lover, Dave. I mean, if we lived together …” Pausing I sucked a deep breath trying to get my heart and my breathing under control. “I mean … the only person I’ve had … was that bastard teacher … and he wasn’t … I mean … it wasn’t … nice.”
“And you think that’s it?” I could hear the disappointment in his voice. “You think you’ll never be able to enjoy making love because that bastard made it unpleasant?”
“No … I mean, um, well …” Pausing again, I tried to put into words my uncertainty and couldn’t. So I babbled. “I mean, I really want … but I don’t … and I think maybe you …”
“Shut up.” It was peremptory, and it silenced me. “You think I don’t know all that shit? That I’m any more experienced? That I’m not terrified of being a complete klutz and spoiling everything for us both?” Pausing to get his voice under control, he continued more calmly. “I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes. We’ll go somewhere nice for something to eat and to talk, okay …”
“Dave …” I started to refuse. I couldn’t trust my feelings, the bottom was dropping out of my world at the thought I’d upset him—the first guy I’d really felt something special for. “Okay—but I haven’t any sort of fancy outfit so it better be somewhere I can go in jeans and my usual stuff …”
“See you in twenty minutes, Tom.” His voice was gentler now. “And stop worrying.” There was a hesitation, then he said huskily, “I love you idiot …” and rang off.
Staring at the phone I burst into tears.
Then, conscious of the time, I raced to the bathroom, had to make do with a wash as the shower was not usable, dressed in a clean pair of jeans over the yellow rubber thong, a clean teeshirt and shirt and put on my best trainers. I was about to run downstairs when I remembered the letters from the landlord’s people. Ripped the first open, and skimmed it. It acknowledged the complaint I’d made a month before about a different issue. The second informed me that I would have to vacate the flat while the entire roof was replaced and the bathroom repaired …
Dave was at the door downstairs as I read this, and I ran down to open it for him still clutching both letters.
Gently pushing me inside he shut the door and smiled.
“Have I told you how fabulously sexy you look when you’re flustered?” Wrapping me in a hug, he grinned. “Well, I have now.” And kissed me. “What’s with the letters?”
“From the landlord’s agents—one acknowledging the problem I reported weeks ago, and now this. They want to replace the whole roof and say they need to repair the bathroom.”
“Good.” He kissed me again. “Now let’s go and find somewhere to eat and talk, my love.”
The taxi took us to a quiet little restaurant in the better part of town, an area I’d never frequented—for two reasons. Everything there seemed to be expensive, and secondly it was very snooty. The waiter greeted Dave warmly, gave me an appraising look and showed us to a nice table with a view of a lake.
The menu I got had no prices in it. When I pointed this out, Dave smiled.
“Of course not. Now order what you really fancy—treat yourself. Tonight is my treat.”
I scanned the choices. Damn, everything on the menu looked fabulous and made my mouth water. Dave watched carefully, and eventually asked, “Fancy a steak?”
“Yes, but …”
“No buts,” taking the menu out of my hand, he grinned. “We’re having the sirloin steak. Mushroom sauce, or garlic butter on it? I’m having the mushroom.”
“Um, er … but,” I caught his raised eyebrow and grinned, “Okay, make mine the mushroom sauce as well—with the roasted potatoes and onion rings.”
The order given, he raised his wine glass.
“A toast, Tom.” He waited as I picked up my on. “To us.”
“To … us?” Again I saw the eyebrow. “To us.”
“Now that’s out of the way, let’s talk about what you want from our relationship.”
“What I …?” Playing with my wineglass, I considered. “Dave … I don’t know.” Meeting his eye, I shrugged. “I’ve never had one before. I know what the magazines, books, movies and the television shows … but all I know is those are stories.” Pulling my thoughts together, I frowned. “I guess what I want is someone that loves me, accepts my stupid stuff and puts up with me being a klutz most of the time.”
“Sounds reasonable to me. Think you can put up with someone who is sometimes overbearing, demanding, always wants his own way, can be a complete klutz, and loves you as you are?”
“You mean like the guy who walks into my flat, wraps me in a bear hug, kisses me possessively and announces I’m moving in with him?” I grinned at his reddened cheeks. “I think I could—if he gives me a chance to catch my breath and get my feet back on the ground.”
For a moment I thought I’d offended him, then he grinned.
“Touche.” Raising his glass he saluted me with it. “So … when can you move in? When are they doing your roof and repairs?”
“It doesn’t say in the letter, but probably not for a while. Biggest hassle is the bathroom, but I can shower at work … They’ll need to find a company can do it, and right now I’m pretty sure every builder, plumber, plasterer or carpenter and roofer has more work booked than he can handle.” Laughing I added, “And that landlord isn’t the most responsive anyway. Maybe sometime next year?”
“And in the meantime you can’t take a shower, unless its at work.” His grin was wicked. “So would you like to use mine?”
“Is that an offer?” It was my turn to laugh. “I accept, what’s the fee?”
“Hmm, we’ll have to work on that one,” he retorted as our steaks arrived.
It was the most perfect steak I’d ever eaten. Perfectly prepared, perfectly presented, and absolutely fabulous tasting. As we ate we talked, and by the time we got back into the taxi, I’d somehow been convinced to agree to go home, collect my essentials and sleep at Dave’s flat from now on. My furniture and other ‘stuff’ could, he said, be moved once I was comfortable with the arrangement.
Well, I don’t have a lot of clothing, so it took about half an hour to pack it, and the stuff I really didn’t want to lose, and then we were back in a taxi to Dave’s place.
It was a wrench to strip out all my clothes and the few ‘valuables’ I posses, and I have to say, I was nervous as hell about this. I’ve never ‘shared’ a bed with anyone, and have lived on my own ever since I was eighteen. I don’t get along with my family, and my older sisters—I’m an after thought—are both married and have their own families. I’ve never had a ‘lover’ and all my teenage encounters tended to be a ‘quickie’ in a toilet somewhere, or Mr Jones’ idea of pleasure. Now I was being shown the bed I would share with Dave … and didn’t know if I could actually do this …
“Relax, love,” putting his arms round me, Dave hugged me. “I want to make this really special for you.”
“Dave,” I whispered holding him. “I’ve never … I mean, I don’t … I’m scared I’m going to disappoint you, or spoil it …”
“You won’t, love.” His kiss was gentle and his hold soothing. “Let’s take this slowly. There’s no rush. It’s not like we’re ‘cottaging’ or risking being caught in the bathrooms, or Jones’ is going to burst in on us. It’s just us, and this is our place.” His mouth covered mine and his tongue teased my lips gently. In a break he whispered, “Strip me, love. Your privilege. Take my shirt off …”
Slowly, carefully he guided me to strip him until only a rubber thong that matched mine remained. Smiling he stopped me there.
“May I do the same for you?” He asked softly.
“Please,” I whispered, my voice now hoarse with desire.
Slowly, methodically, he removed my clothing, all the while maintaining erotic contact, kissing me, sucking my hard, pink, nipples, nibbling my throat, until only my yellow rubber thong remained. Beneath it, my cock was leaking precum, and as hard as it could get in the stiff pouch, and sensed that he was in the same state.
“Ready?” He whispered. “Will you let me introduce you to making love? As your lover?”
“Dave …” I shivered. “Yes, my love, but I …”
“Don’t be afraid, love.” Lowering me onto the bed, he knelt between my legs and smiled down at me. “You’re even more beautiful than I thought.”
Unclipping the waist strap of my thong, he gently removed it, releasing my now rapidly growing erection. As I’ve said, when ‘disinterested’ my cock tends to be a shrivelled little thing, and it’s circumcised. Erect it’s a little over eight inches, the head prominent, the shaft long and straight. His hand caressed it, massaging it gently, making me moan as the thrill ran through me.
“Sweetheart, grip the headboard, and hold on tight.” Bending forward as I did so, he kissed my nail, then followed my sparse pubic hair trail down. “I’m going to take it slowly and teach you how to love yourself and this beautiful bit of manhood …”
To my surprise, he didn’t immediately take my cock into his mouth. Instead he focused on my scrotum, licking them gently, exploring them with his lips and tongue. It was wildly erotic, especially when he gently sucked my whole scrotum and its contents into his mouth, holding them there while his hands, explored my inner thighs, the root of my erection, and a whole range of erogenous areas I’d never suspected. Then, still using his hands to explore me, he began to explore my shaft with his lips and teeth.
Finally, as I was about to tell him I couldn’t stop myself, his mouth engulfed my cock. My hips bucked and I cried out as my cum erupted into the back of his throat. Even then he didn’t stop, he kept sucking, licking and enjoying it even as my dick became limp and collapsed into its usual pathetic state of limpness. Then he lay on top of me, his bulging rubber pouch pressed to my shrivelled cock, got his arms under me and held me tight to his body. Our mouths met, his tongue entered mine and I tasted my own cum …
It was several minutes before he let up the kiss, then he smiled.
“Well, love? Still afraid? Still have doubts?”
I couldn’t speak. My whole body felt as if I’d run a marathon. It glowed, my brain seemed to be detached, but my eyes prickled and tears of pure happiness streamed. After several attempts to respond I managed to get my arms over his back and my legs over his.
“That was … beautiful …” I finally managed.
“Good,” his kiss prevented me saying more. “So why the tears, love?”
“Because I don’t know how to give you anything as good in return …”
“You just did, love.” Kissing my nose and then my eyes, he whispered. “You gave me yourself. What more could I want?”
“A lover that can give you the same fantastic … experience?” Kissing his face and his Adam’s apple, I whispered, “Would you … can I … I can feel …”
“I’d love you to do it, love.” Kissing me again, he asked, “Now?”
“Yes,” moving my pubis against his pouch, I sniffled, “it feels like you need it.”
Laughing he rolled onto his back, and I knelt as he spread his legs and released the clips holding his thong in place. His erection thrust itself into view. His penis was a little shorter than mine, but was thicker. Like me, he was circumcised, but his ‘head’ was a little smaller than mine, the ‘rim’ slightly narrower than the shaft it sprang from, and the musk of his precum and manhood filled my nose as I lowered my face to kiss that beautiful tip.
Now it was my turn to take my time, to savour his musk, to examine his scrotum and that magnificent beast of a penis intimately. I tried exploring his scrotum with my tongue, tasting his musky sweat mingled with his precum and the faint scent of the latex. Carefully I took his testicles into my mouth and played with them gently with my tongue trying to emulate the way he’d toyed with mine.
Exploring the thick column of his shaft with my lips, teeth and tongue as he’d done to me produced the sort of responses I’d hoped for until I plucked up the courage to take his head into my mouth. He moaned in pleasure, one hand resting on my neck, the other gently guiding my movements. Suddenly I felt him tense. His hand on my neck shifted and he pulled my head down onto his now spurting member.
Cum hit the back of my throat, my nasal passages filled with it’s scent and I gagged briefly. Then sucked and swallowed as he held my head firmly and his cock twitched and spurted. When he’d stopped ejaculating and released my head, I moved to lie beside him, kissed him and whispered, “Thank you …”
“Happy, my love?” He replied, pulling the duvet over us. “Still not sure?”
“I may need more convincing in the morning, love,” snuggling into his embrace, I murmured, “And every day …”
