Gay For You, page 5
He’s straight, my conscience reasoned. But this wasn’t about wanting him anymore. This was about power; this was about dominance. And there was no way in hell I was going to let some jock come into my territory and usurp me.
It was Saturday, and I had my maid over to get everything tidy last night to get ready for Evan to arrive. It was only natural that he would come to my house; the place where I had my ideal studio set up.
A part of me wondered what he was doing when he wasn’t in my presence.
Swimming, his Instagram said. Though, again, I never saw pictures of him with any girls or anything. It was very, very odd for a straight guy, who was that full of himself, and so famous like that to not have women throwing themselves at him on a regular basis.
I checked the time again. It was still an hour before he would get here. Suddenly, I was seized by caring what Evan thought of me and my living space.
Should he walk in on me cooking? Reading a book on my couch?
I shook my head, waving the thought away.
I was beginning to covet him; obsessing over this impossible man. He came off like he was so very full of himself and had everything going for him, but the way he acted in person was different. There was something he was hiding.
And it would drive me crazy trying to find out what that thing was.
I was nervous to have him in my territory with no one else around. And I wondered if he felt any desire towards me at all.
The way he looked at me back in the classroom, the way he submitted to my commands really got me going. He was surprisingly good at taking orders… for a straight boy.
I needed to do something – anything with my hands. So I got a fresh onion from my expansive kitchen and some steaks out of the fridge. I put the steaks on the stove and began seasoning them, preparing them with care. Once I started cooking them, my house was filled with a warm, welcoming aroma.
Soon, I heard a knock on the door.
Shit, he was early.
I walked over and opened it, to see none other than my muse standing there with a cocky grin on his face.
And just like that, I hated him again.
Still, with a fascination, I greeted him.
“Nice to see you too,” He said, stretching an arm over his head to scratch the back of his head.
God, he looked adorable when he did that.
“Smells good.” He commented, complimenting my cooking and taking a quick glance inside.
I stood to the side, letting him through.
“Wow,” He said, a low whistle escaping his mouth as his lips came together in a delectable “o”
He was looking around my foyer in amazement.
I swelled with pride as he complimented my living space. I had put a lot of work into this, after all.
“Get in here out of the cold.” I commanded in a low, almost threatening tone. I didn’t mean for it to come out that way, but there was something about Evan that made me feel like I didn’t have as much control over myself as I liked.
“This place is amazing!” He said, ignoring my tone as he stepped through the threshold and into the foyer.
I shut the door, locking out the cold behind him.
He shrugged off his camouflage coat. “Um, is there somewhere I can put this?” He asked.
I nodded and took it, then opened the closet next to the door and filed the coat away among all of the other garments.
“I’ll give you a tour later.” I stated matter-of-factly. “We have to eat soon. Do you like steak?” I asked. As if this were a regular, casual lunch for me.
“I love steak!” He said as his stomach growled.
I swelled with pride knowing that I was going to be the one feeding him; I was going to be the one giving him sustenance. It filled me with a ravenous excitement to be able to satisfy him like that.
“Sit.” I commanded, walking in through my huge kitchen, gesturing at the table in the dining room.
“Is it cool if I sit here?” He asked, striding up to the island where there were four barstools next to the stove.
“Suit yourself.” I said emotionlessly, even though inside I was swelling with delight and curiosity. He wanted to be next to me? While I cooked?
He watched as I poked at the steaks with tongs, and put together a delicious, hearty meal. The steaks were sizzling, filling my house with a delicious, savory aroma.
“So do you make steaks all the time?” He asked.
“I do. I love cooking meat.” I said, then realized what I had implied. Whatever, I’d own up to it.
His eyes got a little larger for a second; or was that my imagination?
“So, how are classes going?” I asked, attempting small talk.
“Oh, they’re going well, I guess. We have to deal with different stuff than you guys have to in the art school.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant by that. But I was used to people looking down on art students at this point. They thought our work was easy. Ha! But they didn’t have to do anything crazy for their majors, like professors arbitrarily deciding that they needed to create 1000 unique pieces.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” He said, reading my face carefully. “If anything, I think you guys have it harder.”
I looked up at him, making eye contact. This was new – people usually didn’t acknowledge how much sheer fucking work and determination it takes to be an art student. My father, being one of those people, and he made it known. He came from a blue collar family, who drilled into him that any creative pursuit was a waste of time and money.
Now he was an HVAC engineer or something, no creativity or anything in his boring ass life, and he tried to project that onto me too.
Luckily my mother was there, offering encouragement from time to time.
That was one of my regrets from my life; not having the courage to pursue art full-time. Still though, the money continually flowing in from my business was nice.
Evan blinked innocently, waiting for a response.
“I’m glad you think that.” I offered.
I wasn’t going to let him think that I was going to be charmed so easily. I still knew he was a self-serving, narcissistic jock asshole.
“Do you do any art yourself?” I asked him casually, feeling him out as I prepared some asparagus in a pan. It sizzled and crackled.
“No… I don’t have any artistic skill whatsoever!” He laughed.
The sound was bubbly and charming. Dammit. Damn him.
I watched his features carefully in the light, out of the corner of my eye as I tended to the food.
“It would be hard for me to draw even a stick figure,” Evan continued, beating himself down.
I paused, letting his dig at himself hang in the air. But then I thought that would be too rude, so I replied, “A lot of people don’t give themselves the credit they deserve.” I said carefully, not really sure what to say to make things right. I didn’t want this to turn into a ego-feeding fest, like what happened with most beautiful people. Surprisingly a lot of them were incredibly insecure.
I wondered how secure Evan was. I wondered what was under that jock persona that he put up for everyone to see. I could sense that there was a hint of beauty underneath; something decadent and delicious he was hiding from me. Otherwise, why would I be stricken with a kaleidoscope of inspiration when I drew him?
This one was not like the others. Call it a sixth sense. But there was something more to him.
“Done!” I said, pouring the steaks out onto plates and tucking the crispy asparagus on the sides.
“Looks delicious!” He remarked.
I warmed at the compliment, but tried not to let it show. Still, a smile creeped across my face.
“Let’s sit in here.” I said, carrying the plates into the decadent dining room, the steam from the sizzling steaks spiraling in my wake.
I heard Evan pull his barstool out and follow me.
It was just me and him, this beautiful man, sitting at the dining table. I waited until he took a seat, then served him a plate.
He looked up at me with needing, pleading eyes and said, “Thank you.”
He was grateful. My cock pulsed in my pants. I liked that, and it was so easy to picture those eyes looking up at me as they sucked my cock.
I needed an excuse to go back into the kitchen. “Do you want anything to drink?” I asked flatly as I walked into the next room. “Wine? Water?”
“Fuck it, it’s Saturday. Wine please!” He said.
I went into the kitchen and opened the door to the wine cellar, returning with a thick, whole-bodied red pinot noir. It was steak, so the wine had to be red; there was no way around it. I returned to the dining table, a bottle of the thick dark liquid in one hand and two wine glasses in the other. I set the stem of one of them down in front of him and tipped the bottle into it.
“That’s enough, thanks.” He said, grabbing at the stem.
His fingers brushed against mine briefly. A jolt shot through me and I felt my cock twitch and press against my pants. Dammit, just when I’d gotten it to calm down.
Hot desire zinged through my body as he looked up at me again.
“You’re doing that on purpose.” I called him out, my voice low and threatening.
“I don’t know what you mean.” He said, not breaking his gaze from mine.
Fucking bold, I bristled. He knew the effect he had on me, and it was showing. He was taking my control away from me, and I didn’t like it.
Or did I?
This was completely new territory to me.
We dug into our meal with ravenous hunger, exchanging some small talk. But I couldn’t deny the fire that was burning within me, this animal magnetism I felt for him.
“Clean your plate.” I commanded of him, as I noticed he was slowing down after eating the small steak.
Without a word, he obeyed.
Oh my God, this really got me going. I could barely handle it anymore.
It was driving me fucking crazy, wondering what he was thinking. How could be such a… such a perfect submissive, and dangle himself in front of me like this while being straight? It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair!
“Well.” He said, looking at me with… was that lust in his eyes?
Or was he toying with me? Little prick probably just got a rush of power by dangling himself in front of me like this.
“Should we get started?” He asked, trying to seem nonchalant about it.
I was still sitting, so I reached into my pocket and tucked my stiff, throbbing cock into the waistband of my pants.
“Let’s go.” I said, and got up, taking the plates into the kitchen. Evan was following me. My heart was pounding so hard that I could feel it in my ears. I’m sure my face was red with desire.
I led him through the house to the other side, which had my art studio and the afternoon light pouring in. I was already all set up from my obsessive rearranging of the furniture and making sure it was all ready for him. I also made sure the room was warm, so he wouldn’t feel uncomfortable when he got naked for me.
I crossed the room and sat in my chair in front of my easel. Then I looked up at him, the beautiful Adonis in front of me, in my territory, in my studio.
“Take your pants off.” I commanded, my pencil ready.
9
Evan
I took my place at the center of this man’s art studio and undid my belt, letting my pants drop to my ankles. It was revealing my boxer-briefs now, which were clinging tightly to my body.
I watched Sam’s eyes grow huge with surprise as he quickly tried to avert his gaze and train his eyes back on his canvas, his pencil poised.
“And the shirt.” He commanded.
Jeez, this guy needs to get a grip… I thought to myself. He was bossing me around since I’d arrived, and even days before when we were in the studio together. It was strange—it’s like he wanted me to do exactly what he said, but at the same time, wanted to take care of me and make me comfortable.
I unbuttoned my shirt, making sure to go slow. Ironically, it felt like I was the one in control. Sure, I was doing this because I was getting paid to do it, but still, it gave me a feeling that I could control Sam by baiting him with my body like this. Unlike the past few months, doing this made me feel like I had power. And I liked that power.
Slowly, ever so slowly, I reached up and unbuttoned my shirt, carefully button by button, tugging at the fabric until it gave way and I bared my chest. Surprisingly, it wasn’t cold here in this studio, where the entire wall was made of windows. It was so bright, and I knew the light was shimmering on my swimmer body.
I was seized by a moment of panic as I went back to being in the mindset of being that fat kid again.
“Don’t do that.” Sam grunted from his chair.
“Do what?” I asked.
“Don’t hunch over like that.” He said, “Arch your back like the way you were doing before, like your body is a sail catching the wind.”
“Oh… Like this?” I asked, straightening out and arching my back into a curve.
“Perfect,” he praised, the word unfurling from his mouth.
I liked this. I liked when he complimented me. I craved the praise. I wanted to please him.
But this didn’t make any sense. I was straight; I liked women. Right?
But then, a nasty little voice in my head was asking me how long it had been since I’d been with a woman. I’d lost track.
In high school, I’d dated a few girls here and there, and in college I was so driven that it never really struck me to find a girlfriend. Sure I had girls hanging around me all the time because I was on the swim team, and I’m sure the other guys just assumed that I was getting laid constantly. They always teased me about how many women I had in my orbit. But I never really took anything further than simple flirting.
Flirting was second nature to me now; it was the language of getting what I wanted. For me, it wasn’t linked to desire at all.
But that’s what I felt now—an inkling of desire for this person in front of me. This man that looked at me and gave me something, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
My cock twitched in my boxer-briefs and pushed against the thin fabric.
I glanced over at Sam, who had been studiously working on the canvas and glancing at me. But then his eyes flickered over to me and travelled down my body. I knew he saw. The look of lust that shifted across his face made me even harder.
I liked this. And I fully felt like I could leave at any time. But I didn’t want to; not right now.
And… er… yes, I was getting paid for this. I told myself. But I truly enjoyed posing in front of him as a model.
Sam’s hazel eyes flickered back up to me, and I saw how they caught the light. And he was looking at me like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
For the first time, I truly felt desired.
“Take off the boxer-briefs.” He said, biting his lip.
I bit mine too, feeling thick desire course through me.
Could it be…? Was I bisexual?
All I had known was that I’d never felt something like this before. But there was something so… desirable about Sam. I couldn’t tell if it was actual desire, or the feeling of being desired, or both, but in that moment I didn’t care. Whatever was happening…. I liked it.
And my body liked it.
“Take them off!” Sam barked sternly.
“Okay, okay, hold your horses!” I said, peeling off my boxer briefs down my legs and letting my erect cock bounce out.
He stared at it, motionless for a moment, stunned. Like he had just opened a Christmas present that he’d been wanting for a long time. I heard him swallow.
I was teasing him, enjoying the power I had up here on my pedestal. I liked being looked at like this. That didn’t mean I was gay, right? It just meant I liked admiration. But this admiration stirred something deep within me; something that I had missed and needed my whole life.
“It’s rude to stare.” I said playfully, fully enjoying the control I had over this moment.
Without saying anything, his eyes darted back to the drawing.
It was like he was pretending he hadn’t noticed me fully erect and ready to go. He was a true professional.
But there was a part of me that wanted him to. That wanted him to take it further, and I was curious.
As long as no one ever knew.
“How do you want me to stand?” I asked, pretending not to be completely ignited by his gaze. I never thought I would have a thing for a man, but here I was, standing in front of him, completely naked.
“You… you’re perfect.” He said, his eyes glowing with some kind of mania. Like I was the only thing he’d ever seen that was true, and like I was the last thing he would ever see that was true.
I knew it would have to be me who made the first move.
Boldly seizing my chance, I stepped down off the pedestal and walked toward him.
He looked up from his artwork and did a double-take.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked. It wasn’t a bossy tone; it was soft, filled with hope.
“I want to see what you see,” I breathed.
We both knew I wasn’t talking about his drawing.
Not breaking my gaze, his hazel eyes shifted to a dark, lustful green as he stood up in front of me.
I had to raise my chin to follow his gaze as he towered over me. The animal magnetism between us was almost too much to bear.
I pressed myself against his big chest. And suddenly, everything felt right. I was overcome with lust, and my cock twitched and stood straight up.
He was looking down at me with sheer fucking lust in those intense eyes of his.
I felt so desired.
Then he leaned in, lips puckered with an invitation.
I accepted, leaning in and closing the gap.
All of a sudden his lips were on mine, and I pushed myself into his face, melding my body around his. I wanted to take form against him, against this tall, hulking man filled with mystery. I wanted to know more about him.
