Best Gay Romance 2008, page 7
We held each other and listened to the sea and the sound the palm fronds make in the breeze and I felt myself pulling your hand. Dragging you back to the wheel.
Come with me. Take me to the point, where the waves are dark and the sea seems endless against amber. Just once more, while we can. Away from the world and all its expectation.
Draw your arms around me, bottle me up and set me to sea. Years later, spilt on some sandy shore, I’ll sit and tell you this story, the whole damn thing: how fast we lived and how warm the sky! How round the moon above us, bright as an eye! How I quoted Arnold in the dark hours as we watched the waves roll by.
And as we drove to the point, we were just two boys in a beat-up old car, like so many others, cruising the neighborhood for a laugh. Only one thing on our minds.
I don’t think the difference showed from the outside, and I don’t think it mattered, ’cause on the inside we knew exactly what it was.
That night, before you dropped me home, you pulled onto the gravel by Elanora Park and we looked out over the playing fields. We watched as the lights from the footy club went out solemnly and soon only the orange glow of the port warmed the sky. “Maybe we should end this,” you said. “I feel lost in all the lies.”
“But we’ve spent too much time together… You’re too much of a love to me.”
“It’s so hard,” you said. “I want to be with you, but it’s too …much for them…. Maybe in a couple of years. They just need time to get used to it.”
“I understand,” I said.
The sky looked so hot, like the air itself had caught fire. I could feel it warming at the corners of my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I said, blinking away the flames. “I’m sorry for all of this.”
And then? Did I kiss you? Did I hold on for dear life—make that kiss last as long as I could? How did I let go so easily when it was over?
I opened the door and stepped onto the road. You just kept looking over at me, the whites of your eyes glinting in the darkness.
“I’ll see you,” you said. But there was no soon.
I nudged the door shut and stepped back. The engine snarled as you turned the ignition; gravel rumbled under your tires. It was too much noise for such a night and you waited till you’d reached the road before you hit your lights.
The park was one black mass, under an orange sky. I could see the bay lights beyond sparking and fading off the islands, throwing ricochets of color into the dark.
And I waited, until all that was left of you was the distant twinkling of your taillights along the Esplanade. Just two red pointers, marking out the way to some forgotten constellation in the cool, dark night.
A NOT-SO-STRAIGHT DUET
Natty Soltesz
1. Bradley Gets Fucked
Bradley went on AmateurFratDudez.com and looked at himself. His perfect, almost-naked body, pictured there for the world to see, was posed right next to the perfect, almost-naked body of his best friend Joe. The title of the video told the story in a nutshell: Bradley Gets Fucked.
He clicked through the still pictures. He looked good. Joe looked good. Their impossibly muscled bodies, the result of so many hours in the upper campus gym, showed off well.
He wondered if Joe had seen their page since it had gone up. They hadn’t talked about it since the shoot, almost a month ago. Bradley was the experienced one, the star, having done several solo videos for the site before. When he’d been offered a thousand bucks to go all the way with another guy, the only one he could imagine doing it with was Joe.
He’d been surprised to realize the money felt like both a reason and an excuse.
Bradley gazed at an image of himself bent over, his plump asscheeks wrapped around Joe’s big dick, a look of pained pleasure on his face. Had it all been acting? There was no denying that getting fucked had made him cum hard and fast—the proof was on video. Maybe he could rationalize by saying the Viagra made him do it, but truthfully, hadn’t there been more to it? Was it just the newness of feeling something up his ass? Or the fact that that something had been Joe’s cock?
Bradley rubbed his half-hard dick through his workout pants. Joe, on the screen, had his tongue in Bradley’s ass. Bradley took off his pants, got on his bed, and threw his legs over his head. And without even thinking, in the absent and unafraid way we do secret things when we’re alone, he wet the tips of his fingers in his mouth, brought them to his clean, slick asshole, and reminisced.
That Friday night, after the bars had closed, Joe drove the two of them back to Bradley’s place. It was where they usually hung out, because Joe still lived in the frat house. Bradley had made good money doing videos, and had his own apartment off campus.
The silence in the car was edgy. They were alone, half-buzzed.
“So, have you checked out the site yet?” said Bradley. “They put up our video.”
“No shit,” Joe said, shooting Bradley a smile. “How do we look?”
“Pretty fucking good, I think.”
“Man, that was so crazy.”
“I know. But not too bad, right?”
“Yeah, it wasn’t too bad.” The light turned green. Joe shifted gears.
“So did you get, like, turned on at all?” Bradley asked.
“I don’t know. I know it felt pretty good for me. You got a nice, tight ass.” They both cracked up. “What did you think of it?”
“I really liked it,” Bradley said, maybe wanting to shock Joe. “I don’t know…having your dick up my ass sorta did something to me.”
“Well, there must be a reason gay dudes like it, right?” “Yeah, for real. You were, like, hitting a spot up there or something…”
They laughed again, and before any of it had time to sink in they were at the twenty-four-hour beer distributor, picking up a case as they did every Friday, almost out of habit.
The night was hot, and Bradley stripped to his underwear as soon as they got upstairs. The apartment was quiet, fraught with a strange tension. Bradley went into his bedroom, pulled up the site, and called Joe in. He leaned over Bradley’s shoulder, and they looked at themselves on the website. Bradley could smell Joe’s cologne.
“Crazy shit, huh?” Bradley said once they got to the end of the preview pictures. Joe sat on the bed. “So you kind of liked it, huh?”
“Yeah,” Bradley said, his hand idly dipping inside his underwear. Joe had a huge smile plastered on his face. “I’d fuck your ass again,” he said.
“I bet you would,” Bradley countered. Joe just shrugged. Bradley felt his dick starting to get hard. “Actually, what felt the best was when you ate out my ass.”
“You liked that, huh?” Joe said, standing up. His fat shaft strained against the front of his shorts. “I’d do that again, too.”
“For real?”
“Yeah, man.”
“You’re out of your fuckin’ mind.”
“Who cares? We’re both horny. Nobody’s gonna know. We’ve done it before.”
“Yeah, for a thousand bucks,” Bradley said. He knew he was protesting too much. He couldn’t stop himself.
“Get up,” Joe said. “Get on the bed. I’ll eat you out, dude.” Bradley chuckled, but he could tell Joe was serious. So he shrugged, looked Joe in the eye challengingly, and pulled off his underwear. He had a perfect ass.
“It’s clean, right?” Joe asked.
“Yeah, fucker. I took a shower before you picked me up.” Bradley got on all fours on the bed, and presented his ass to his friend. He kept his eyes down as Joe got behind him, took Bradley’s ass in his hands, and spread his cheeks open. His butthole squinched uncontrollably.
Bradley half expected Joe to slap his ass and say the joke was on him.
But Joe didn’t hesitate. He sank his face right into Bradley’s crack, his tongue going right for his bunghole. Bradley gasped, and his cock spasmed.
“Oh, man. Holy shit.” Almost immediately he could feel that something was different from the last time. Joe was eating him out like a starving man. He licked and sucked Bradley’s ass with enthusiasm, spearing his tongue straight inside, pressing the whole of his face until it was buried in butt. His tongue circled in and around Bradley’s hairless, pink asshole.
There were no camera angles to worry about. No one was watching, nobody had to see. They could do whatever they wanted.
Bradley looked back. Joe was fondling his hard-on through his shorts. He thought about what he’d said earlier: I kind of liked it. You hit a spot up there. Had he revealed too much of himself?
They’d fucked on film with cool detachment. They’d done what they had to do, gotten off, gotten paid.
But Bradley knew his friend’s reputation. He’d heard Joe boast that he could fuck all night. Now he was going to be on the receiving end. Joe was going to have his way with him. The thought was scary—and thrilling.
Joe took off his shirt and pulled off his jeans. His heavy, uncut dick flopped out from a thatch of trimmed pubes.
Bradley flipped onto his back and drew his legs up to his chest. He touched his hole and was surprised at how easily one of his fingers slid inside.
Joe laid his body atop his friend’s. They crushed and ground their solid bodies together, Joe’s slablike pecs and ripped abs sliding smoothly against Bradley’s equally muscled torso. Joe held Bradley’s legs up as he slid his fat peg back and forth against his hole.
He brought his face close to Bradley’s, and for a moment Bradley thought they were going to kiss. He was relieved when Joe turned to suck on his neck. They had kissed in the video; that had been part of the deal. Nothing about it had felt right.
Joe stood up, his heavy, leaking dick hanging like a baby’s arm from his body. He grabbed Bradley by the thighs and scooted him to the edge of the bed, licked his hand, smoothed the spit on the end of his prick, and lined it up with Bradley’s soft anus. He slowly applied pressure until Bradley relaxed, and about an inch sank inside. Bradley gasped and held his breath.
“My lube’s on the desk,” he said.
“Condom?”
“In the drawer.” Joe grabbed it, lubed up his dick and then Bradley’s ass, slowly sinking his fat index finger inside. Bradley moaned, relaxed, let the finger in.
Joe got back into position, sank the head of his dick back in and, unable to resist the exquisite warmth and tightness of his friend’s asshole, quickly horned the rest of his cock up Bradley’s butt, balls-deep. Bradley looked at him with wide eyes. He wasn’t in pain. What was he feeling?
There was no pretense this time, they were fucking to fuck, to get off, pure and simple. Joe pumped Bradley’s ass slowly at first, finding a rhythm, and then going with it. When he’d fuck in all the way, his hips jammed tightly against Bradley’s ass and thighs, Bradley would feel something come over him. It sent him outside of himself. He was stroking his still-rock-hard dick, but the pleasure wasn’t entirely there. It was coming from the inside.
Joe fucked without thought, without mercy; he was a man with his dick in a warm hole, and Bradley knew how good that felt, and empathized. What pleased Joe pleased Bradley, and there was no reason to wonder, no reason to be anxious or concerned. They knew each other, they knew each other’s bodies. They were both enjoying the fuck out of this.
“Fuck me man,” Bradley uttered, and Joe obliged, sinking all of his nine inches into his best friend’s beefy butt, feeling Bradley’s asshole clench him tight.
Bradley looked into Joe’s eyes. Joe was a good guy, but he was also kind of a lunkhead. To see him fuck, though, was to see him in his element. He worked his body fluidly, looking for all the world like a man who was born to fuck.
Bradley knew he was going to cum in spite of any efforts he made to hold back. “Fuck me man,” he said again. “Are you close?”
“Yeah,” Joe said, his hands grasping Bradley’s legs, holding them in the air as he took his friend from above. “I can go at any time, bro.”
“Cum with me, man. Cum in my ass.” Bradley’s hairless balls scrunched up high in their sac. Joe banged and banged, sending it closer for Bradley each time. Bradley wasn’t even stroking himself, and suddenly his cum was pumping, his load shooting out of his cock and landing on his sweaty stomach. Joe reached down to help his buddy pump it out, but it was too late and too sensitive, and Bradley knocked his hand away.
“Holy fuck. Holy fuck,” Joe said, staring into Bradley’s eyes. Bradley sensed the pressure building, and then he knew that Joe was letting go, grinding high and deep and shooting his cum into Bradley’s ass; cumming inside, the way it was supposed to happen—not with the forced coldness of an obligatory cum shot. Joe let go of his legs and fell down onto Bradley’s sweaty body, his dick still firmly planted in his rump.
So what was next? There were no cameras to stop rolling, no lights to shut off, no money to collect. Bradley breathed with his friend, pooled cum sticking them together. This had really happened. He ran his hand down his friend’s broad back, and he wondered, if they were to fall asleep like this, would it be okay?
2. The Morning After
Sonny was sitting at the table, clutching a bottle of beer, when Chuck walked into the room. Their eyes met.
“Good morning,” Chuck said. What else was there to say? As soon as he’d woken up, it had all come back to him. As far as he was concerned, there was no point in pretending it hadn’t happened. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes to avoid Sonny’s glare.
Sonny bounced his leg, gulping more beer, never averting his stare. Chuck tensed. How were they going to deal with this? It was too much to think about. And he had a wicked hangover.
“Is there any beer left?” he asked. Sonny jerked his shaved head in the direction of the fridge. Chuck ambled over, scratching himself through his boxers. He hadn’t bothered to get dressed. Sonny had put on his sweatpants.
He opened the beer and walked back over to Sonny.
“All I’m saying is…” Sonny’s voice was low—the sound of a dog cornered and snarling. “…If you tell one fucking soul what happened last night, I will kill you. And I mean that.”
“What?” Chuck said, holding the beer out to his side.
“You heard me.”
“Dude, why the fuck would I tell anybody? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“Just so you know. You breathe a word about this shit to anyone, and you’re dead. And you know for a fact I’m not fucking around.”
“Dude, would you just chill the fuck out? Seriously. You think I want my girlfriend to hear that shit? You think I’d want it to get back to anybody?”
Sonny stood up. Though shorter than Chuck’s dark-haired, six-foot-two frame, Sonny was a tough little fucker—a fireplug of a dude with a chest full of tight muscles under smooth, tattooed skin.
He got in Chuck’s face, his body loaded like a spring. Chuck, startled by his friend’s aggressiveness, stepped back.
“We were drunk, dude. We were drunk, and shit got out of hand, that’s all. Now you’re all up in my face, for whatever fuckin’ reason. What’s your beef, dude? You wanna go?”
Sonny pushed Chuck’s shoulder, sending Chuck reeling backward until he found his bearings and pushed back, hard. Sonny crashed to the floor, startled. Then he sprang up, like a tiger out of a cage.
He pounced on Chuck, sending a hard fist into his side. Chuck grabbed him around the waist and threw him to the ground. They rolled, struggling for control. Sonny got his hands around Chuck’s neck and squeezed. It took all of Chuck’s strength to push and kick him away. He twisted out, flipping Sonny onto his back and holding him down by sitting on his thighs. Grabbing hold of Sonny’s wrists, he pinned his arms to the floor above his head. Sonny writhed and squirmed. He was trapped.
“What do you want?” Chuck growled, as soft as a whisper. “What do you want?” Sonny stopped thrashing, catching his breath in great gasps. For a moment their bodies heaved, their eyes locked. That’s when Chuck realized: Sonny was hard, his cock pressed like a diamond rod into Chuck’s crotch.
Sonny started to struggle again, futilely; then he was writhing, hunching his body up against Chuck’s. Chuck’s cock engorged quickly, as though the blood and aggression were surging from his head and body right into his cock.
Sonny’s eyes were searching and confused. Chuck yearned to do what they hadn’t done the night before, and he went with it. Sonny met his mouth, hard, their teeth knocking together, drawing blood from Chuck’s mouth. They kissed. Chuck was totally hard now, and he ground his erection into his friend, his tongue diving between Sonny’s lips.
He sucked on Sonny’s neck, keeping him pinned to the floor. Sonny thrust his hips, unabashedly humping against Chuck’s body. Their tongues wrestled for position. Then Chuck released Sonny’s arms, and Sonny made no attempt to roll away. He reached under Sonny’s tight midsection, pulling their bodies even closer.
Their breathing was short, but the sex accelerated. Chuck worked his mouth down Sonny’s body, sucking his chest and nipples, licking and biting his stomach. He pulled off Sonny’s pants—his cock caught on the elastic and slapped right back against his stomach. Chuck nibbled around the soft skin of Sonny’s pelvis, and when he got to his pert pink cock he didn’t hesitate—he took it in his mouth, and sucked deep and tight. Perfect fit. Sonny whimpered.
Had they been viewing themselves in a rational state of mind, it would have been like viewing someone else, something from which they would have averted their eyes. Chuck slurped his buddy’s cock like a Popsicle, and Sonny swept his hands through Chuck’s hair, fighting back his orgasm.
Chuck ran his fingers under Sonny’s balls. He was so smooth down there, sweaty from their struggle, and Chuck’s fingers slid naturally toward Sonny’s hard asshole. When his fingers made contact both knew that it was right. Sonny’s whimpers became moans, and Chuck’s cock got impossibly harder.
Chuck went down further, licking Sonny’s taint. His flesh was so clean, so smooth—Chuck was barely aware of what area he was licking until his tongue made contact with the ring of muscle between Sonny’s cheeks. It wasn’t bad, so he dug in deep, working Sonny’s hole with his tongue. It was as if his cock knew where it wanted to go, and his tongue was paving the way.
