Buckle Up, page 11
part #1 of Commitment Series
“So, what happened?”
“I started doing better than him in the competitions and my career took off. I had to move away, which was fine. It was always part of the plan. You can’t race if you don’t travel so to me it wasn’t a big shocker.”
“But to him?”
He smirks, but there's no light in his eyes. “He didn’t want to be with me when I was famous. Said, he couldn’t allow for my job to take priority, which it didn't by the way...” he laughs, but his irises are stormy.
His behavior is making more sense. “So, you broke up?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t realize. Then when I arrived home from a race weekend, I couldn’t get in touch with him. Turns out he’s now straight and has moved in with a girl!” His voice rises an octave, still outraged so many years later.
“Hmm, that's hurtful.” He starts to walk away, but I hold his arm firm at his elbow, preventing him from leaving.
“Is that everything Elliott? You were with a dude and he cheated behind your back?” I don't add that although it's tough, it happens every day.
He pauses, thoughtful, “More that he was ashamed to be with me. He never even acknowledged me after that. Until...”
I hold my breath. Here we go.
“Until we met at an awards banquet and got to talking. One thing led to another. After all that had passed I still ran back to his hotel with him that night. I fell in love with him all over again.”
“And by dawn he was done with you again?" I ask starting to see why this would make him over protective of his emotions.
He swallows and I have to force myself not to kiss his Adam's apple. “Yeah, I was just his entertainment on the side. He was married by then and had no intentions of leaving.”
“And you vowed you’d never let yourself be used like that again. You turned the tables, became the one doing the using?”
“Yes, although the people I went with always knew upfront what they were getting into. But you're right. It does fucking hurt, and when I'm struggling with emotional pain, I can’t push a car to the brink. I tanked it in a barrier the next time out. I was lucky to get out with only a smashed collar bone. Falling in love at this stage of my career just isn’t worth risking my life for. So, I steered away from it. Until you.”
Elliott
“Anyway, enough of that, because without all of that I wouldn't appreciate what we've found together.” I kiss Kyle's hand.
“That’s great to hear, because this is an awful lot of trouble for you to go to if you're not that into me.” He's grinning then he kisses my cheek.
That’s it. Conversation over. No repercussions. He doesn’t think I’m weak, just accepts that I have a history that shames me, and we move on.
“How about you? What happened with your soon to be ex-wife?” I ask.
“Ah, not much. We met young. She was more my family’s choice than mine. My Dad is big into his religion, so it was always expected that I’d wed a good Catholic girl.”
A laugh rumbles up my rib cage, “I thought we were past the times of arranged marriages?”
Kyle nods. “I didn’t know any better. And so I just went along with the notion. Found Madeline in a local bar. She was nice, drinking lemonade because she was driving. That was that. I didn’t need to know any more. It was a problem solved. Or so I thought.”
“Go on, surprise me.”
“Standard stuff; we had different values. She wasn’t as good a Catholic as she made out. My family ended up loving her more than I did. But they didn’t see her true character.”
“Do any of us ever expose our underlying personalities?” A small bird flutters onto a branch. It's probably nesting season.
Kyle hasn't noticed. He pushes me against the damp bark of an old tree, and whispers inches from my face, “I have discovered more about myself with you than I ever considered possible. I want us to be absolutely honest, all the time.” He cups my jaw, fixing his stare into my eyes. “It doesn’t matter what happens. We should know we always have each other. OK?”
“OK.” My voice is weaker than I’d choose. “Fuck Kyle, this is so intense.”
He laughs, “Yeah, some first date, huh?”
I reach my mouth up to graze his lips. As they part an intensity emanates from him through my core.
“I really want to screw you against this tree,” I say, cocking my head, a heated smile catching my mouth. “Just being honest.”
He laughs. “I’m ready to go further if you want.”
If I want? Is he kidding me? “Uh, yeah!” I thrust into him, to demonstrate the point.
“I hope you brought condoms with you? I wasn’t altogether prepared for this adventure you've brought us on.”
“Wait and see, but my packing abilities may please you.”
“What have you brought for me to wear by the way?” We start making our way down a path to the left. Heavy water rushes over rocks somewhere in the distance.
"I did consider bringing nothing and keeping you my naked captive all weekend."
"Sounds like a great first date. Shame you had a rethink." I wink.
He laughs, a light joyous sound against the backdrop of total freedom. “I bought a few pieces. I hope you like them.”
“Are you freaking kidding me? I have a new bike and the gear to ride it, a weekend away with the most maddeningly gorgeous man in the world, and then you buy me a wardrobe too?”
"I'm glad you're enjoying our date. Now come with me. Let me show you the next part." I take off down the slippery bank.
Kyle
The waterfall, or the sequence of waterfalls as there are at least eight, thunder down their rock track. It’s the start of spring, so the water thumps down, smashing over algae ridden rocks, before launching onto the next drop in a flurry of silvery spray. It spans wide at the belly, slenderer toward the top, some thirty feet above.
There’s a pungency in the air from the moist trees and moss that invades the display, limiting sunlight from permeating.
“Elliott, this is breathtaking. Did you know this was here?”
“Yeah. This is my quiet place. You can dive in the lagoon down there.” He points to a clearing on our right, one I’d not yet noticed, having been hypnotized by the majesty of the pounding water to our left.
“It’s a bit too cold for that at this time of the year.” I envision the depths of that rock pool, formed from the power of the spray.
“Yeah, it’s freezing even in summertime. But fun. Today would not be fun. But I still needed to bring you here.”
“Thank you.” We pause, arm in arm, savoring the view. The sun sparkles off the water in the distance, and I can imagine it would be terrific with a picnic in the summer. “We’ll have to come back when the weather is better.”
“For sure. I don’t get here as often as I’d like, but now I have an incentive. This is no longer my special place. It’s ours.”
I’ve spent plenty of my life outside over the years, tinkering with fragments of cars in unheated garages, but the clear sky is forcing even the ends of my toes numb.
“Shall we go get warm?” I lean my head and raise my eyebrows.
“That can be arranged.” The smile he offers reveals that he realizes exactly what is on my mind.
I light a fire when we’re back and once it’s crackling nicely, I nestle on a few logs. “That should keep us going.”
“I’ve turned on the electric blanked too.” Elliott motions toward the cable I’d missed previously. “You wanna come and test it out?”
Oh do I. I strip my clothes off by the fire and bounce onto the mattress, stark butt naked.
Elliott's eyes widen, "That's how it's going to be then!" He shrugs his jeans down his legs, mirroring my lightning speed.
“I told you. I’m ready for more.” I let my sentence hang.
He seizes me, “Well, come here then.” I laugh and I topple onto my back. legs up high. “Now, that’s perfect. Stay like that.” He hooks my ankles over his shoulders as he hovers over me, powerful arms either side of my head and then lowers to kiss me. As he presses into me, our bodies seal, but only for a few seconds as we tussle, passion reigniting sparks that have only been dormant a few hours and need little rekindling. Limbs everywhere, I enclose his waist in my legs, locking him in. I draw him in against me and slide my tongue between his lips. Our mouths are full, sharing everything of ourselves. Moans and rapid fire breath escape our nostrils as we breathe like each intake of air was our last.
We tumble over the bed, rolling around in each other's space. One on top for a few seconds before being conquered by the magnitude of passions from the other. The demand to feel and be felt fighting any sense of decency.
Elliott grabs the lube, “Are you ready?” He gulps.
I nod as he backs up, oiling my throbbing length, swirling his hand. He plunges his head between my limbs, chases his tongue over my balls, sucking them both lightly into his mouth while advancing the movement of his hand, deliberately, on my cock. His fingers tighten, my penis enlarges and suddenly his tongue is rotating on the sensitive nerves around my rosebud. With my nerves on red alert, my shaft strengthens in response, thickening and threatening to burst. As he teases my entrance, I close my eyes and ease into the occasion. He swipes a sliver of lube over my crack and the expectation is electric.
“Do it, Elliott.”
Kyle
I relax and press my knees wide, waiting for him to enter me. He levers his finger in, working it around and when he catches my prostate, a streak of denotations explode in my head. He’s still massaging my cock, withdrawing his finger, rimming round my entrance, slipping back in against my natural lubricant, forcing me wider to prepare for him to insert a second digit. He twists deeper, his hand driving my dick faster.
I catch his wrist. “Slow down.”
He snickers. “I’m sorry.” He slips his fingers out from my butt and stretches out on top of me while I recover my composure. He kisses my collarbone and my neck and nibbles the lobe of my ear. His chin bristles against my sensitive skin, already alight from intense stimulation.
My heart rate slows, and I brush my hand over his sleek chest, touching his flexing muscles. His thumb strokes my face. I peg a wispy blond curl behind his ear, then hold his face in both my hands and marvel. If he weren’t so toned, his face would be delicate, but it’s been transformed though a lifetime of gymming combined with a rigid diet into chiseled, broad features. His neck, wide and heavy to tolerate the G-force should be out of proportion, but instead it accents his looks.
I drop my hand to it, stroke over his beard and touch his Adam’s apple with the back of my hand. He tips back his head allowing me to explore.
“Lie on your stomach.” My voice is warm. It’s a request, not an order.
He nods and moves away before turning on his stomach splaying his legs so I’m sitting between him.
I lean down and draw his butt cheeks apart and sink my tongue as far inside him as there is space. Pushing until I can reach no deeper, the aching between my legs is driving me nuts. He sighs as I pleasure him, raising his hips and I drive my tongue a little further inside him.
I lube his hole, and my finger slides, straight past my knuckle and up to his spot which I know will turn him wild. He cries out, pumps into the bed. I sink further, harder against his mound of nerves.
“Fuck me, Kyle,” he roars out between pants.
Slipping the condom over me, I steady his hips with both fists, stretching him apart again, and then, as I let out a loud groan, I glide my cock between his ass cheeks and into his most exclusive place. His reaction is sensational. The moan that emanates from his sinful mouth is pure filth mixed with relief at us finally being together in this way. I pump deeper.
“Oh, God, I can’t believe you’re finally inside me,” he groans, holding still to let me work as I feel confident. Allowing me to take him as I choose, to learn my new skills at my pace. This dynamic man is giving everything of himself to me, for my pleasure.
My courage is building, “Lift your hips.” I pull him a little higher.
The space between his body and the bed allows him to grip his cock and handle it as my speed increases from behind.
“You’re so fucking hot Elliott.” I groan as the intensity around my penis surges and I let go, shooting my statement of faith in our relationship right inside a man who has shot my life upside down. I buck against him with a rumble and one final punch and he comes all over the sheet with a groan.
Elliott
I saved that place for someone extraordinary, but little did I realize what kind of trip we’d have when I finally took the plunge and shared it with Kyle. We’re heading to his apartment to collect some of his things and then we’ll sleep at my place before work again in the morning. The entire journey home has been awesome. The already strong connection has further strengthened and we’re cruising back, taking in the view and communicating through sign language.
I could get microphones so we can speak, but that changes a social trip into a reminder of work. Plus, I really rather like the old school practice.
Our bikes pull into the parking lot outside Kyle’s apartment building. It’s nothing exceptional, but he has no need to be apologetic. It’s a bit run down, I’ll give him that. But, considering where I was brought up, this is a palace. I leave my helmet on, only removing it once we enter the anonymity of his apartment.
“Sorry, the place is a mess. I’ve not been here much lately and so I’ve only zipped in and out.” He lingers in the tiny hallway.
“Hey, it’s OK. I don’t care,” I reply.
“I’ll just grab some things.” He motions to a door which opens into a narrow bedroom hosting a bed and a chest of drawers. He’s busy rooting around in one of them when the buzzer goes for the communal entrance.
“Answer that would you? It’ll be someone who has forgotten their keys again. It happens all the time.”
I press the button commissioning entry as Kyle finishes packing his duffel. He opens the door to leave.
“Hey, aren’t you going to show me around?” I ask.
“Uh, sure, yeah. If you want.”
He leads the way into a cramped living room with a TV and sofa squashed into a corner. The kitchenette is set up across the rear wall.
“It suits me for now, gets me back on my feet again.” He peers at his feet, tipping his head and curling one side of his mouth up. My soul bursts with the humility in that act. I swear to myself that in the future he'll never have to worry about anything.
Sometimes I hate being wealthy because it has the capacity to belittle people you care about. It is also appallingly skilled in attracting more gold diggers than is healthy for one’s self esteem, but that's an aside. I hate how Kyle feels because his hard work is paid at a different rate than mine.
I amble over to him. “It’s OK. I just got lucky, and I’ve not had a divorce to worry about.”
He glances up, shows me a quick lopsided half smile and then buries his hands on either side of my head, and gently pulls me in for a serious kiss.
“What? Kyle? What’s going on?”
Kyle pulls back, eyes wide, “Fuck!”
We both spin around. An older man is standing in the heart of Kyle's living room. He’s a little rounder than Kyle, but he shares his generous nose and naturally tanned skin. I catch the dismay and disgust on his face before he whirls round and heads out of the front door and down the communal passageway.
“Dad!” Kyle runs out.
The man doesn’t stop, and I’m left alone in his living room before deciding I should also follow.
“Dad, wait,” Kyle repeats, by now at the end of the corridor. The old man smashes into the door for the stairwell, shouting back at Kyle without turning. “You’re no boy of mine. Don’t ever call me that again.”
Kyle
“Dad, let me explain,” I try. I realize it’s pointless, but we’re heading down the hallway outside my apartment faster than my old man has moved in the last twenty-five years. When my Dad gets like this, it’s never good.
By the time I catch him, we’re in the lobby. I grab his arm. He reels, his face crimson, eyes bulging.
“Is this who you’ve become, Kyle?”
“I’ve not become anyone. This is who I am, Dad. I’ve not changed, other than to be truly content.”
“Well, you’re no child of mine, I will not be caught up in this kind of sinfulness.”
“Dad, you’re not involved in it.”
“No, I am not. That’s why after today you are on your own, Kyle. I want no part of your life anymore.”
“Don’t you care about me? Elliott makes me happy.”
“You had a perfectly good wife, and you had to leave her. For this?”
“No, not for this. I left Madeline before Elliott and I got together. We met through work.”
Elliott, who had remained in the shadows by the staircase, strides forward to introduce himself. “Mr. Beaumont, I’m Elliott. Maybe we could have a conversation inside Kyle’s apartment?”
Elliott holds his hand toward my Dad, who ignores it. Instead, he points a finger toward Elliott's nose. “Don’t you speak to me. Corrupting my Kyle like this. I have nothing to discuss with you, nor him.” He spins to face me and spits the words, zeroing in on my eyes.
“That’s a bit harsh, Mr. Beaumont. I understand this is a bit of a shock, but allow us to at least explain.” Elliott tries again.
“I have seen with my own eyes the extent of your relationship and there is nothing further to reveal.” He is shaking, hands balled in fists to his side, face flaming with scorn. “Now, let this be the end of it.”
He turns and blasts out of the exit without so much as a glance back in my direction.
“It’s pointless going after him. He won't listen. You’re lucky he didn’t try to hit you.”
Elliott furrows his forehead in dismay, but remains silent.
