Gay For You, page 10
I moved his legs to the side, wanting to make sure he didn’t have to do any work; wanting to please him. I took off my pants, taking them off one pant leg at a time. Then undid my shirt. He reached down and started jerking himself off. Then I dove down and placed my lips on his dick.
He was moaning and drew in a soft hiss. “Incredible…”
“You’re so beautiful…” I said, complimenting his form. “You okay?”
He nodded and he was moaning.
“Look at me, Evan…” I moaned, then went up and kissed him.
He looked at me, his mouth forming an “o”
I could barely handle it anymore.
Then he looked me in the eye and said, “I’m about to come!”
“Come for me baby…” I moaned, taking a breath up from his huge dick, letting it flop out of my mouth with a pop.
I was still jerking myself off as I moved back down and quickly took his soft, velvety head into my mouth. That was enough to send him over the edge.
He gasped and moaned as I felt him release into my throat, his tip firing bursts of come into my mouth.
As soon as Evan emptied himself and I felt his body seize up, I blew my load as I felt the pleasure seize me; and I painted his glorious abs with my pearly spunk.
After a few moments of panting, we were both leaning back against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling. Then, as my pleasure began to wear off, the thing I’d been dreading came to the forefront of my mind. Now was as good a time as ever to discuss it.
“I have to leave for Aspen next week,” I said.
He sat up, alert. “You’re going to be gone? I don’t want you to go…”
“It’s only ten days.” I said, but even as the words left my mouth, I knew it was going to be hard on me, too. “What are your plans for Christmas break?”
He cast his eyes downward, looking sad. “Nothing, I’ll be fine.”
I thought for a moment, sitting up in bed and holding him. “I want you to come with me.” I said.
“But Sam!” He said, “I have an exam!” He protested.
“Some departments let you take exams early or remotely. If you don’t have a laptop, you can use mine.” I said.
“I don’t know about that – I’ll see, but I can’t afford a plane ticket.”
“How many times do I have to tell you,” I warned, holding my finger in front of his face as a warning, “Don’t you worry about money. I’ve got it.”
He pulled away from me, and turned to look me in the eye. I couldn’t see into his head; there was no way to know what he was thinking.
“I want to show you off to all my friends and family back home.” I admitted, “And the thought of you being alone on Christmas just…” I trailed off. “I won’t allow it.” I said, my voice swelling with fury as I began to piss myself off even thinking about it.
He leaned in and hugged me, his glorious abs rubbing against my body. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” He admitted, holding me tight.
I was bristling, but I calmed myself down and reached my arms around him, pulling him close.
17
Evan
The sun was descending over Ann Arbor, plunging the land into a cold freeze. But my insides couldn’t have been warmer.
Not only did I not have to work anymore, I had somewhere to go during Christmas break that wasn’t my hometown! My mom and brother could spend it together; I was sure they could keep each other company.
But me? I’d be in Aspen, with Sam! The only thing I knew about Aspen was that it was some fancy town in the rocky mountains somewhere that had a lot of rich people. He wanted me to meet his family and friends.
I clutched my worn down camouflage jacket closer, huddling in from the cold.
What would they think of me? They would surely think that I was some country bumpkin from the south; especially if my southern accent leaked out.
Though I’d gotten rid of my fatness, it was much more difficult to get myself free of my poor-ness.
But what about my gay-ness…?
The world would find out, eventually. That I had a boyfriend and that I was gay. Or bi. Or whatever. That would ruin the illusion for thousands upon thousands of fans that were women. What had happened to other athletes had come out of the closet at great personal risk?
My mind was filled with this puzzle as I hopped on a Bird scooter to cross campus. The very thing I was trying to avoid – having Sam on my mind all the time, had come true.
To me, he was the only thing that felt real in my life right now. The only thing that was truly authentic.
My boyfriend.
The thought was so wild and foreign in my own headspace that it made me giddy. A good kind of giddy.
For a moment I allowed myself to indulge in the memory of him marching into the restaurant yesterday and “firing” me. All because he wanted me to have more time to get what I wanted – to keep my grades up.
Can guys swoon? Well, fuck it, he was making me swoon.
But still, as much as I regretted it, I needed to go to my class and leave the little nest we’d made for ourselves. I’d rather be at Sam’s house than anywhere else in the world right now, but I had to go to class. One more lecture stood between me and seeing my man again.
I sat in the huge, crowded stats class, and to my surprise, I could actually pay attention. This stuff used to be the most boring thing in the world for me, but for some reason, whatever had happened to me over the weekend had given me a big boost in focus. I felt like my mind was razor-sharp, and still had space to long for Sam in the background.
I felt like I could do anything. I felt invincible.
As the professor went over topics that she’d grazed on in the past and I had simply zoned out, I resurfaced them in my mind. I had been paying attention the whole time, I was just struggling with recall.
I wouldn’t fail the exam; I actually remembered all of this shit. I would pass with flying colors.
My consciousness shifted to my waist, where I could feel the wad of cash filling up my pocket that Sam had given me. Something about it felt dirty, still. I felt like I didn’t deserve the money.
“You worked for it.” He had reminded me when he put on my coat for me. “Don’t sell yourself short. You posed for hours, and you should get paid for it.”
It was still weird to me to get money for doing something that felt so effortless. I was used to being a waiter where we had to put in long, hard hours and get very little out of it. But now, all I had to do was stand there and hang out with my boyfriend, and I would make money.
It was such a strange concept to me.
I spent the rest of the day studying in my apartment, because Sam had a meeting with a client. I still didn’t really know what he did. Though I’m sure he’d give me the details If I asked, I wasn’t really that interested in them anyway.
Leaning over our scratched, scrappy dining table, I worked my way through one of my statistics problem sets while my mind ticked away, puzzling over Sam.
His passion — art, I could tell that he was channeling parts of his soul into his pieces. And that was the most interesting to me.
I couldn’t wait to see his drawings of me. I wanted to see how I appeared to him; what filters were taking place through his eyes and going back into his brain, and then coming out through his hands.
Maybe this could work. Maybe I could have it. Maybe I could be Sam’s boyfriend and pass college. Even though this relationship was taking up a lot of my time, I had increased focus and motivation to get through this stats class, all so I could get back to Sam and see him again.
I was addicted to his presence, that presence that shifted the feeling whenever he entered a room.
It wasn’t long before I heard footsteps in the hallway, sounding more like a disjointed animal than the careful bipedal footprints of a human. Then in a flurry, the door to the apartment burst open. Jake and Kelly were in a passionate tangle, pressing their faces against each other as they struggled to remain balanced.
“Um… hi.” I said as they whirled past me towards Jake’s bedroom.
There was a harsh clack as the flimsy door shut in their wake.
Then I got to listen to Kelly moaning through the paper-thin walls again, and my concentration was broken.
Feeling my cock pulse in my pants, I was unable to tear my thoughts away from flesh on flesh. I pictured how Jake was probably going down on her right now, judging from the smacking noises coming from his room.
That made heat rise into my cheeks. I wondered how it would feel if Sam went down on me in that way, and played around with my ass.
Just thinking about it now was making me hard as a fucking rock. There was no way I was going to get any more studying done here, but I was chained to this table until I finished this problem set.
Taking a few quiet breaths to steady myself, I finally got a hold on myself. Then when I opened my eyes, I looked down at my stats book and splayed across the page was a huge parabola mocking me. I crossed my legs in a poor attempt to hide my raging boner.
A slave to my own body, I got up from the table, fled to my room, threw down my pants, and began stroking myself to the sounds of Kelly’s moans. I was already so wound up thinking of Sam that it took almost no time at all before my balls clenched and my dick erupted, squirting out pearly white semen all over my pillow.
Panting and satisfied from the release, I laid down in my bed for a few seconds, longing for Sam on top of me. I wanted more of what had happened earlier; I wanted more of him.
I knew that Kelly and Jake would be at it for hours, so I decided to go out into Ann Arbor for a walk, suddenly stricken with the urge to go outside and enjoy the weather. I also needed some private time just to keep my head screwed on straight.
I had never felt this way about a woman. This was such a new world to me; it was a divine, liquid world where I could comfortably soak.
Huddling my camouflage coat close to my chest, I shivered as I walked down the frigid sidewalk.
Women kept looking at me.
Normally, I would bask in the attention from them; empowered by their validation that I was now attractive. Back in high school, it seemed like girls couldn’t get away from me fast enough.
In college, that had completely changed. Though I had been coveting attention from the opposite sex, it felt… hollow. It felt empty. I was really now only interested in attention from one person.
Sam.
Another woman ogled me as I walked down the Diag — the park that dissected campus in half. Though now, a small voice in my head said, You’re barking up the wrong tree, girl.
Smirking, tones of flesh flashed before my eyes every time I blinked. The memories of the things Sam did to me… the way he made me feel, were swimming to the forefront of my mind.
It felt good to finally feel like I belonged somewhere. I was only going out with women before this because I didn’t know. I didn’t know I could feel such chemistry with someone, let alone another guy.
18
Sam
I was alone in my studio again, and without Evan here it felt empty. I had worked hard to make it warm and inviting, but there was something terribly missing from it. It only took me a few minutes to figure it out.
It was his presence.
When he walked into a room, he filled it with this positive energy that was nearly impossible to describe. I wanted to capture that energy in my artwork of him. For a moment I was thinking of how grateful I was that when we met two weeks ago, I had the balls to go up to him and make him my model.
I shuddered at the thought of having to do this project with anyone else.
But Evan, I was so excited to study him. I couldn’t wait until he returned, so I could simply be around him again. Being around him made me feel… more free, is the only way to describe it. Less chained up in my own head.
Maybe this could work. He was giving me what I needed, which was freedom of creative expression, without even really trying. For some reason, when I looked at Evan’s form, I needed to channel it into something else.
For the first time in a long time, I felt inspired.
I had been a businessman for so long that I forgot what it was like to channel complete and free creative expression. When that was extinguished, my happiness was too, but it did so quietly, unnoticed.
But being around Evan seemed to reawaken that, like opening a trap door in a dungeon.
Maybe this could work. Maybe this could really, really work.
I worried about what he was thinking, though. Up until this point, Evan had been seen as straight. Would he announce our relationship in public? I wanted to be public with him, but I wanted to respect his privacy, and given that he used to be “straight,” allow him to take this one step at a time and match his pace. The only people that knew we were in a relationship were his old work colleagues at the restaurant.
I was so excited to introduce Evan to my friends and family out in Aspen. More than ever, I was so excited to show him a good time and make him happy; he was so stressed out about all of his work he had to do.
There was something about Evan, unlike any other previous lover I’d ever had, that made me feel whole. For the first time, I felt… safe in a relationship. I felt like it was okay just to be as I was.
And my work was taking on a new light. There wasn’t a moment that went by where I wasn’t thinking of Evan.
I’d been conditioned to be resistant to showing any kind of emotion by my ex, Kyle. He told me that getting too emotional was a waste of time so many times that I began to believe it.
Now when I needed that emotional energy that I used to have, it was nowhere to be found. He thought love was being business partners. I felt that part of me that all the color came from slowly atrophy without me even realizing it.
But here I was, noticing it blooming beautifully again. Being with Evan somehow was like feeling the warmth of spring after a long winter.
I rifled through my drawings of Evan. These did have a certain something about them, a certain depth.
As the evening wore on, I prepared to do my check-in with Professor Washburn. It would be the first time we’d met since she assigned this project.
Even though I knew this meeting was meant to establish the relationship between me and her and not to throw criticism at my work, I was nervous. The whole way up to the art school, I was thinking of all the things that could go wrong with this project.
The worst thing that could possibly happen was that she could take me off this project and decide to assign me something else, which would rob me of Evan’s time… though I didn’t see her doing that. There was some kind of maniacal twinkle in her eye when she watched me poach Evan.
There was an overwhelming feeling unfurling in my gut that she knew what was up.
But if she did decide to change the requirements of the project, if he wasn’t my model— if he wasn’t being paid to do it, would he still choose to spend time with me?
Shaking my fears away, I opened the door to the art school and stepped inside. The warm and earthy scent of sawdust greeted me. When I made my way up to her office, I saw the woman herself sitting behind a desk, staring studiously at her laptop. Strangely-shaped sparkling trinkets adorned the walls of her lair. As soon as I sat down in the chair across from her, she looked at me with that piercing gaze. But there was this warm gentleness about it that put me at ease.
“So Sam, how are you doing with this project?” She asked, folding her hands and shutting her laptop. “I know it’s an entire semester and a half long, but I assigned it to you because I know your work and I know you really need help in this area. Emotional expression is the core of art!”
If it were anyone else telling me that, I’d immediately go on the defensive. But Professor Washburn had earned my trust.
“It’s going well… I’m feeling very connected with my subject.” I said.
“Oh?” She said, her brown eyes glinting over her glasses at me.
I bit my lip. Had I done something wrong? Was a relationship between an artist and model forbidden?
My anxiety crumbled when she smiled, like it always did.
“I can already tell you’re different.” She said warmly.
How the hell could she tell? I crossed my arms and sat up straighter in my chair.
“It’s okay, it’s okay.” She smiled kindly, chuckling a little. “I’m just saying that I’ve seen you grow a little. Now let’s see how your work has grown, shall we?”
I reached over to my right and picked up my big rectangular portfolio, laid it across the desk nearby, and unzipped it. Inside were all of my latest pieces of Evan, perfectly rendered in various poses. I plucked out two of them and presented them to her.
In my opinion, these two were the best ones. They were exactly as they were supposed to be; life-like. I was really proud of my rendering skill.
As I unfurled them before her, I knew she’d give me positive feedback.
She looked over them pointedly, not tilting her head down to take them in, but looking down her nose at them.
I felt uneasy.
Then her lips pulled back in a thin line as I saw the judgement cross her face.
“Something wrong?” I asked, my pride draining out of me like the sand in an hourglass.
“There’s nothing here.” She said.
I recoiled. Art professors could be so harsh.
“What do you mean there’s nothing there?” I asked, “I worked really hard on these!”
She sighed, then took off her glasses and looked up at me.
“What makes these different from a photograph, or a computer pencil rendering, other than you spending a lot of time on it?” She asked, emotionless.
There was a silence in the room as I tried to think my way out of this.
“I… it’s art. It’s a pencil drawing.” I maintained, not believing that my mentor was giving me such harsh criticism. This wasn’t unlike her, but I thought I was her favorite student.
