Best Gay Erotica 2003, page 15
He unsnapped his Levi’s top button.
I yanked my shirt off hurriedly to catch up. He was beautiful and I hoped he was seeing the same in me. He was close to my age: maybe six foot, lean and brown. His jeans dropped to reveal white boxers. I snapped my jeans apart speedily, letting them fall, realizing too late that I’d put no underwear on after the shower with José.
He smiled enormously, bent forward, and removed his white shorts, first lifting one leg, then the other. His cock bobbed, half-hard and handsome. Damn.
We were both stroking it now, playing with our tits and balls, posing for each other. It occurred to me I’d never be able to cum after having just done so with José an hour ago. And José thought he had problems!
I yanked the window open and leaned out, looking around to see if anyone was watching us. He struggled with his own window, got it open with a jarring screech. We both said at the same time: “Wanna come over?” And answered together, too: “Yea!”
“What’s your address?” I asked quickly, pressing my desire to go to his place. He told me and I threw on my clothes and raced over, my heart beating like fear.
He buzzed me in and I hurried to his door, which opened as my fist rose to knock. He put out his tongue and licked my knuckles.
“Fuck,” I said lustily, and pushed my way in. He was back in his boxers and he tore doggedly at my clothes to get them off quickly as he led me, walking backward, tripping, toward his room. Then he pulled me on top of him as we fell together onto his bed, kissing sloppily and smearing saliva across each other’s mouths. I rolled him over on top of me and pulled off his shorts as he arched his back up to assist. Having checked my conscious reason at the door, I was following my own lead and found myself scooted down and sucking on first one big ball and then the next as he straddled me. Then he grabbed his crooked shaft and cock-whipped my face while I darted my tongue out, trying to lick it.
Things moved fast. My legs were on his shoulders, his cock sliding across my asshole, popping up with each thrust to run across my balls before rising into view. I was jacking off furiously as we kissed, moaning and knocking our teeth. He growled deeply once, twice, and then I felt his tongue push far back into my mouth as his warm semen plopped up onto my chest, one, two, three, four globs, before trickling across my skin. He lifted himself up straight-armed and looked down at my cock as I bucked and shot onto his smooth, brown chest. He muttered: “Yea, yea.”
Then we both started laughing hysterically.
“So, who the fuck are you?” We said that at the same time too, and laughed again. “No, go ahead, you first,’ we both said, chiming in at the same time—again. We laughed some more. “Well, we’re both fags, and we’re neighbors. We know that much.”
“How long have you lived here?” I asked him, with an expression that said, I’ve never seen you before.
“At least a year,” he said disarmingly, as if I should have noticed him by now.
“Well, I’m Sid,” I introduced myself.
Grinning, he replied, “Nice to meet you, Sid,” and put out his hand. I grabbed his softening cock instead, getting another laugh out of him, as he answered: “I’m Victor.”
“So, Victor, I hate to rush out of here, but I gotta go.” He was nodding, half-disappointed, but as if he expected as much. “I’ve got a class, Victor. I also have a boyfriend, just so you know, but I’d love to do this again.” And I grinned.
“Well, anytime,” he answered, sighing.
“See you at the window,” I coyly cracked as I left.
“Yea,” and he lit up. “That’d be cool. See ya.”
To tell or not to tell…. I debated that all day. Because Victor wasn’t just some anonymous trick; he was our neighbor.
“Never shit where you eat,” Kenny offered his words of wisdom after physiology class. I looked at him quizzically.
“That’s a fucking stretch, Kenny. Where’d you come up with that?”
“No, I’m not kidding. I never fuck anybody within a five-block radius of my house.”
“And you live in the Castro?”
“Yeah, don’t you think it’s possible?”
“Well, it’s a pretty small neighborhood, Kenny. That sounds like a better policy for the Avenues or something. I mean, if I had that policy, I’d live as far away from all the fags as I could.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not some slut.” Kenny got on his high horse. “I can control myself.”
“You’re looking for a relationship, blah, blah, I know,” I patronized him. “And a little distance too, it sounds like. Intimacy issues? How close can your boyfriend come?” I chided him. “A block, two, twenty feet?”
“Save it, Sid. You know I have rules and you know they work. And that’s why you bring this stuff up with me.”
“Oh, brother,” I sighed. Kenny prided himself on his long-term relationships. He considered himself well-adjusted. He’d had years of therapy, plenty of abusive boyfriends, but oh, he made it work, boasting two-year—and even three-year— averages to my usual fling of two weeks, give or take. It wasn’t about being happy for Kenny, of course, it was about being successful. Or something like that, as ironic as it may sound.
“You’ll never make it work with José if you start slutting around, mark my words.” She was out of the gate and there was no catching her now. I stifled a laugh. If he only knew. And he didn’t. I didn’t dare subject José’s choice of a livelihood to Kenny’s moral compass.
Eventually he shut up, but not before I got in the last word: “Kenny, you live exactly seven blocks from me,” I said enthusiastically. “Let’s fuck.”
“That’s not funny, Sid.”
No, but things were getting funny in my life. When I arrived home, the gate to my building was tied open with a string and all the signs of someone moving in were evident: strewn boxes, the wide-open door up the stairs, voices discussing logistics in that particular tone people use when searching for wall sockets or commenting on cupboard space.
They arrived in tandem, loping down the stairs: my new neighbors. . The woman was a rambunctious, blue-haired, pierced-up baby dyke with a loud voice and a twinkle in her eye. Her roommate was fucking devastating. He looked Dutch-Indonesian with all the advantages of both sides of the globe. I hoped they were a couple: a ridiculous notion. In fact, it was beyond unlikely and even comic to consider. But he was way too cute for me. I wouldn’t have to worry about him.
His hello smile was awfully seductive, though. I stammered out an introduction—she said that she was Tammy, he was Karl—and shook their hands. “Well, hope you like the place,” I said in parting, almost throwing in—”if you need anything, just…”—but I didn’t allow myself.
I feel as if I’d been hit by a train, not once, but twice. So when José comes home and casually asks what I had done all day, I draw a blank.
“I survived,” I finally reply.
“You all right?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. How are things with you?”
“Well, my last client canceled; I finished my Fuck Finn paper and now….”
“You’re horny, right?”
He laughs out loud, slightly embarrassed. Was I like this when I was twenty? I suppose so, just more repressed. I had affairs with bathroom sinks and socks, so it’s hard to remember just how often I had to take care of that need. In other words, there are no faces to remember, and without faces…well, you’ve only got so much room in your head, you can’t waste precious space on erotically charged bathroom mirrors and stiffening, threadbare argyle socks.
I fall into him, smiling. “How many times today, José?” I ask him sarcastically.
“Five,” he proudly states like a little boy. Since I’m heading into number three, I really shouldn’t be mocking his youthful exuberance.
I get my hands under his shirt and feel his chest and belly as we kiss. We have this common ritual we follow that I never seem to tire of: I love pulling off his shirt and my own and rubbing our chests together as we stand there pecking each other with our lips. We grind our cocks together through our pants and breathe harder and faster. It’s so wonderful to discover his body over and over again. The image in my mind—though sometimes more idealized—can never achieve the pungent, warm, heavy, hard, soft earthiness and viscerality of physical sex. That’s why porn is doomed to fail us all. We all need fucking sex! So I lick his neck and face. We smile and passionately kiss—sloppy-wet so that our chins shine—as our hands go to each other’s belts. Then to the problematic shoes. We fall into each other, rolling. Shirts and pants going, we drag out the underwear part. There’s something amazing when we’re naked together, and we always stop to marvel at whatever that feeling is as we play a little tender swordfight.
Then we attack each other. I like José’s wantonness, his lack of modesty. Sometimes his pager throbs from across the room, because he has the kind that vibrates. When our roiling nebula of pleasure ends, he’ll reach for it as we disappear back into ourselves, but right now we don’t care about anything but smothering each other like gravy. We end up rabidly 69’ing, until I hear him groaning and I pull my mouth off his cock with a slurp, his lower back arching up as I jack him, watching his blue-gray balls bounce and shake, until the white shot slaps across my Adam’s apple, and he’s got two fingers so far up my butt that I shoot across his belly before any of his cum even runs off my neck.
We sleep quietly that night, two well-spent boys. But I dream of Karl. And that’s not the only time I dream of him, either. It’s not some wild sex orgy, though. I keep following him up the steps into an apartment I’ve never seen and it always turns out to be different, huge places. One time it’s a movie house and we sit eating popcorn, watching the two of us making out on the screen. Another time, it’s like a corporate office, and everyone’s walking around naked except us and it’s bugging me that we can’t seem to get nude, as if our clothes are glued to our bodies.
I ran into him the next afternoon.
He asked me for a cup of sugar. No, not really. He needed an extension cord. I debated whether to say “be right back,” or “come with me.” He saw me hesitate and shyly grinned. I sighed and laughed with embarrassment. Oh, shit, is he coming on to me? What, am I gonna resist this guy?
“Uh, do you wanna come back to my place and help me look for it?” I smiled sheepishly. It was lame, but it wasn’t meant to be otherwise. I wanted to find out if he was feeling what I thought he was, and I was too anxious to have to wait until our next meeting. I don’t know why. The dreams, I guess. It didn’t matter what stupid invitation I came up with. I’d likely get my answer; I knew that much.
“Come on,” he answered directly and seriously, without any hesitation. He knew what he wanted and didn’t need an invitation to get it. Fine by me. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Just yesterday, I’d concluded he was way out of my league, and now I was about to make him. Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
We walked around to the back of the building where I lived. I unlocked the door, put down my backpack, realizing, as I did, that I’d be missing that class—if I was lucky. I pretended to look for the cord, but I knew I didn’t have one. I was leaning down, looking in a kitchen cupboard, faking it, when I felt his hands—both of them, one on each cheek. Then I felt his hardening dick through his pants as he pressed it against my butt. I pushed my butt back at him and we did that for a while. Then I heard him unbuckle his belt and before you could say, “Let me see your cock,” he had his out and was rubbing it bare against my pants. That was too much and I dropped to my knees and turned, taking his thin, bent cock into my mouth in a greedy gulp.
I heard him say flatly, “I wanna fuck you.”
And I pulled off his cock, long enough to reply, “Then I won’t have to beg,” before going back to work on it. A moment later, he pulled out and pistol-whipped my face a few times, all the while smiling broadly.
I got up and we both pulled off our shirts quickly, stripping everything else off in a hurry and tumbling naked together onto the bed. He just as quickly wrestled his way on top, reaching under my knees firmly with both arms, while I clumsily fumbled for a condom on the headboard behind my head, never taking my eyes off his beautiful lithe, brown body. I found one and handed it to him. This boy liked to be in control and he could have it. I lay back and relaxed, and he drove that sweet crooked branch into me with gusto, banging me while I held onto his biceps for dear life. “Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn!” he gasped and his face screwed up so that I knew it was time. And we went white together.
It was turning into a strange week. And it was only Tuesday.
“Your boyfriend’s really cute,” Karl threw in as we said goodbye. “We should do a threesome sometime.” And off he went, not waiting for a reply.
Things were getting ahead of themselves, to say the least. I was still debating how and whether to tell José about Victor and now I’d added Karl to the mix, and on top of that, Karl was interested in doing us both! Calling Kenny for advice was out of the question, but considering what had been happening lately, perhaps fucking him wasn’t.
To calm myself, I made some tea. I always got great comfort out of a whistling teakettle, and I always filled it up because I loved to watch the water sputtering out the top—like a dick cumming. I watched it spurt and sputter briefly before turning off the range, grabbing a cup and teabag. And then…it was déjà vu time: Victor, shirtless, through the side window. I looked. He touched his nipple; he smiled; he laughed and bent over as if he was really cracking up. Then he disappeared.
“Whatever,” was all my tired mind could come up with, as I moseyed over to my big reading chair to drink my tea in peace and sort things out.
But it wasn’t to be. The doorbell rang. I hated that because since I lived in the back and the gate was way up front, there was no way I could ever know who was there. But it was a weekday and the Jehovah’s Witnesses only came out on Saturdays around here. No Mormons ever showed their white-shirt and nametag-clad, bicycled ignorance in these parts. But fund-raisers and political causes were constantly blanketing the neighborhood with solicitors, who bored me so much that I gave them my money and refused the raffle tickets promising exotic vacations that would spare me a few weeks of their harassment. But I was too tired to fight it today, so I buzzed whoever it was in, and left the door open a crack as I sat back down. A moment later came a knock, and Victor’s head poked around the door.
“Victor!” I said with surprise. I didn’t think he had the nerve. I’d told him I had a boyfriend.
“Hey, I hope I’m not bothering you,” he offered politely.
“Uh, no, no…you want some tea?” I got up to make him a cup, offering him my chair, which he flopped into.
When I returned with the tea, he grinned and thanked me, taking it carefully so as not to burn himself.
We both said, “So…” simultaneously and nervously, and laughed.
“I guess we just aren’t meant to talk to each other,” I joked.
“You wanna do something else?”
“I wanna try, but I’m really tired, Victor.” I didn’t want him to think I didn’t want to do him again, but I’d just shot a major load and I didn’t see another in the foreseeable future. Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time I didn’t see something coming.
“That’s cool. I’m happy to sit here and drink tea with you,” he offered. I smiled, relieved. And we talked and talked. About his job—working with retarded kids at a day center; about HIV and the drugs and acupuncture and homeopathy and shamanic healing. He told me about Vacaville and the redneck white boys who hated him doubly for being a beaner and a pussy. And he told me about his first time, about Kendrick, a big black boy from West Sacramento he met at the Interstate 80 rest stop, who fucked him so good, so good-naturedly,smiling and praising his beauty and taking him home for the weekend to fuck some more. I thought, What a lucky first time that was. I myself had been plowed silly by my seventeen-year-old cousin, who called me a faggot sissy as he filled me with his big uncut weenie jizz. He told me he was just too virile to only fuck women, and besides I was a fag so he couldn’t be gay since he hadn’t fucked a real boy. “Well, you got a real nice cock,” was all I’d thought to respond. And he cuffed me hard on the shoulder for it.
Victor was for falling in love with—I could see that. With our stories out like that, and the day’s classes forgotten, I was in his arms kissing him, breaking all the rules I’d agreed to with José. No matter, I thought, I can explain everything. Besides, the best fuck is a love fuck, and I’m feeling love for this boy and his boy’s story and I can’t see how there’s anything wrong in it. There isn’t.
And so we kissed and stripped, and quietly, softly touched each other and licked one another’s arms and legs and armpits and knees and Adam’s apples and ears and feet. Me all lanky and pale and pink; him all jet-black-haired and cinnamon. We fondled for hours, our cocks bouncing about and colliding from time to time. But it wasn’t sex about orgasm, it was sex about all of it, so our dicks could wait.
That didn’t mean José would, though. My heart leaped when I heard the lock click from a key in the door. I dumbly raised my face from Victor’s wet, wrinkly, plump scrotum, half-panicked and half-resigned. I was busted.
Or was I? I saw José’s face, saw the crease deepen between his eyes. Then the grin, and as the door swung open—Victor up on his elbows now and looking disoriented—Karl following right on José’s heels. “Well, he’s here, all right!”José exclaimed, and he let out a laugh as Karl grinned widely. “Uh, José, uh…could you, um, give us a minute?” I pleaded.
“Why?” he laughed. “Karl wants to have a threesome— why not make it four?” I relaxed, seeing José was in a playful mood with the one thing on his mind I feared was separating us, when in fact it was about to bring us together in a whole new way.
“Close the door and get in here!” I commanded, smiling. Victor and I were both up, tugging at their clothes as I awkwardly introduced them all, without stopping my lusty pursuits. “Victor, this is Karl, and José, my boyfriend. Karl, Victor.” Karl and Victor greeted with a tongue-tying kiss as José asked me nervously, “Is this cool with you?”
