He played with his wet cock and balls as he lay there, enjoying the euphoria.
Once he was calmer, he walked to the bathroom for a shower with jelly legs. Having the shower after jerking off made his body more aware of the warm spray of water. Ilhan felt sensitive, and washed his body more sensuously as if he was having the shower with the man who had just fed his fantasies.
He bathed his slender neck more slowly, visualizing John’s bigger hands touching him, and then gliding his fingers toward his chest. His felt much smoother compared to John’s more muscular, hairy chest. He gasped when his nails brushed over his nipples, sending aching tingles that reached his balls and he repeated the action. His heart rate increased as he teased his body. Pinching his nipples brought a deep moan from his lips and he panted slightly with arousal. Is this how it would feel to share a shower with him? God yes, I want this.
He turned the shower nozzle away from his body and squirted more shower gel into his hands. Rubbing his hands together, he slowly washed his abdomen in sensuous circular motions, feeling his contours, and soft skin. Would he rub me this ways? Fuck. I‘m horny again. He changed speed but decided slower was better. Ilhan hoped John would touch him slowly too.
Running his fingers through his pubic area, he gasped again. He fantasized how John would like his trimmed groin. Ilhan always manscaped his pubic hair and shaved his balls. He liked feeling his balls like that when he masturbated. They felt soft and more sensuous. He imagined John almost crooning at his discovery that Ilhan liked to trim himself. He closed his eyes to visualize John’s playing with his balls and fisting his circumcised cock. The fantasy was so powerful and felt so real that he groaned loudly, and spoke as if John was with him, “Yes. Touch me like that.”
Ilhan turned the focus to his backside. By the time, he brought his hands to his rounded bum cheeks that gave him a nice bubble butt, he felt more sensitive. His body’s nerves were tingling in anticipation. He rubbed his arse in a circular motion and occasionally squeezed his cheeks as if the hands were Johns. Ilhan rested his forehead against the tiled wall and opened his thighs a little wider. He felt his smooth buttocks and brushed his fingers against his crack as if John would have done that by accident. “Oh. Fuck,” he cried out, rubbing the area slowly but pressing harder. His crack puckered in excitement. Nice and smooth, no hair there either.
“Fuck. Yes. Rub me there. Yeah… Like that.” He imagined whispering this to John.
Prodding his pucker with his finger made him even harder as if he hadn’t pleasured himself a short while ago. He pumped his cock as he fingered himself until he shot his load against the wall, crying out loudly. His legs felt like jelly and he let himself slide to the floor, gasping for air. Hmm… Even in my head, I can’t have enough of him. Now on my knees, another fantasy is oozing into my mind.
He smiled at his naughty thoughts, thinking how John may react to him had he known what he was doing to himself while thinking of the sexy man.
When he could stand, he rinsed himself off, as well as the wall he’d made a mess of. He gave himself a quick rub down with his extra-large towel and put on his socks—his only bedclothes.
I wonder what he’d say if he saw me coming to the bed, jaybird naked but wearing lime green fluffy socks? He gave a loud piggy snort at the comical image and hopped into bed. He did a quick prayer his mum taught him as a very young kid and wrapped himself tightly in his quilt to sleep. Maybe soon we’ll sleep together, he thought with a grin on his face.
He woke up early the next morning with his thoughts on the dinner he was about to have with John. Despite going to bed with socks on, he’d somehow take them off in his sleep and woken up barefooted. It was eight o’clock and he slid one of his feet out from under his quilt to check the room temperature. He shivered, realizing it was colder than yesterday morning. He pulled his foot back under the covers and wrapped himself tighter. I wonder what he’s doing now, he thought and mentally checked his clothes to decide what to wear for the evening.
I don’t want to wear something that hugs my body in case he takes me out dancing cos it’s hard to move and raise my hands. I need to move comfortably around him. He anticipated a slow dance with John at Connections and put a mental X on the body-fitting tight suit.
What if the restaurant gets too warm? I mustn’t wear my anything too wintery. I wonder whether I should go for something casual? But what if I’m overdressed or underdressed? Both options are as bad as each other. The more he went through his clothes, the more nervous he felt. In the end, he decided to wear his dark navy trousers with his black shirt and V-neck jumper. I can wear my thin black jacket in case it rains. Your man will be casual, sleek and classy, John.
Once he made up his mind, Ilhan got up and put on his woolly dressing gown to use the bathroom, then pull out the ironing board.
He sang “Talk Is Cheap” as he listened to Chet Faker singing on the radio, never stopping the iron gliding over his black shirt. When he heard a certain Turkish tune playing on his mobile phone, he knew it was his mum calling. He paused the song and picked up the call.
“Anne, merhaba.” he said hello to his mum in Turkish. “How are you? That’s good. I’m glad you’ve started walking again to lose weight. Me? Not much. I’m just studying and missing you. Of course I miss you, Anne. Of course I’m eating well. This is me we’re talking about, right?” He laughed at his own joke.
“Always eat. Yes… I’m keeping myself warm too. Anne… I need to go. Some friends invited me to dinner so I’m a bit busy right now… Tamam”—it was easy for Ilhan to switch to his ancestral language. He said okay and continued talking to his mother in fluent Turkish, saying he’d call her later and that he loved her.
As soon as he hung up, Ilhan rested his hands on the ironing board and sighed as he looked outside the window. He hated not telling his mother the truth because…well, he just did. It was easier not to say anything than actually lie to her. They were close to each other and he told her about everything except his sexuality. One day, I’ll tell you everything, Mum, and I pray and pray, you‘ll still love me.
CHAPTER FIVE - John
After Ilhan left his flat, John closed the door and rested his head against the wall, feeling a shiver pass through his body. He was left with a throbbing erection and an excited heart at the thought that he’d be taking that sexy man out tomorrow. He rubbed his hand against his chest absently and smiled. Maybe, I’ll get the chance to fuck him instead of shake him. I still think about spanking his sexy round arse, so the jury is still out on that verdict. He snickered with the image of Ilhan on his knees, butt naked, waiting to be spanked by him. He squeezed his aching cock to sustain his pleasure a little longer.
Not only Ilhan’s body, but his whole demeanour teased his senses to the point where his body always seemed to be aroused. He felt sensitive and hyperaware of the other man whenever he was nearby. He was worth waiting for. He’d never imagined for one second that the man of his fantasies returned his affections. Hold on a sec. Actually, I did imagine him regularly in the shower and in bed, but now it’s more than sexual. John laughed at his own joke.
He felt uplifted and relieved. It all made sense now, why Ilhan kept calling him or leaving messages. Had he been less horny and emotional, he would have seen that the man was seeking his attention—albeit poorly.
John sat back on the sofa and turned the volume up to watch TV, sipping his beer. Although his eyes were on the TV, he didn’t see anything. His mind kept playing over and over what had happened with Ilhan. Wow. All that time, I thought he was antagonizing me, but instead he was trying to reach me. Fuck. He had the hots for me too, can you believe that? He took a sip from his beer, enjoying the cold drink as it cooled his throat and brought him back to the present moment. He turned off the TV to go out for a walk and clear his head.
It was dark outside, but with the streetlights and the Kings Park lights, it gave John a good view of his surroundings. As he walked up the road, John shuddered, realizin
g he’d forgotten to put on his jumper. It was a crisp evening with a clear sky. For a second he thought of going back for it, but changed his mind as his body warmed up with the walk.
John preferred to walk in King’s Park in the evenings, especially around the War Memorial—a fitting tribute to the Anzacs, who died for their country. The place was always peaceful and hauntingly beautiful at night.
There were a few people walking round, greeting each other quietly. He tucked his hands in his pockets as he shivered, and walked to the edge where people stood by the banisters to enjoy the views overlooking Perth and the surrounding suburbs. John could see the cars driving on the Kwinana Freeway, but barely heard any noise other than some parents calling out to the children running around. He breathed deeply to appreciate the scent of the surrounding eucalyptus trees and shrubs. The tall trees looked magnificent and eerie at night. The Boab tree with its bottle-like appearance was haunting with its night light shining underneath it. He loved the surrounding trees because his imagination always got carried away.
This park reminded John of his Guy Fawkes nights when he was around fourteen. His mother used to read creepy young adult stories with him. They both knew her time on this earth was on borrowed time. Had she been alive, he knew his mother would’ve liked Ilhan a lot. She used to be larger than life like Ilhan was.
Yeah. I’ll take him out somewhere nice and get to know him. See what happens, eh. John smiled, enjoying the somersault he felt in his guts.
He returned home an hour later feeling refreshed, in good humor and clearheaded. Next time, if and when he leaves any excessive rubbish bags, I’ll know what he’s after. Then lord, if he’s not in trouble with me. John grinned, enjoying his own cheesy “spank Ilhan’s bubble butt” fantasy.
The first thing he did when he walked in the door was make a cup of coffee. Then he surfed the net to find a nice restaurant to wine and dine his guy. According to reviews, there was a nice Indian restaurant in Freo which might be nice, close to the water. John phoned and booked a window table. Then he thought of what to wear. As much as he hated ironing, he spent extra time to press the clothes he planned to wear that night. This is the first time I’ve actually taken a guy out for a date. Fuck. I never thought I’d meet someone I’d consider dressing up for, to wine and dine him.
The next day as he checked the sprinklers, John listened to Peter, Alison’s husband, telling him about how their son proposed to his girlfriend last week during a picnic. They were planning to marry in Bali next year.
“Alison’s already started shopping for her dress, can you believe that? I told her to skip the shoes since the wedding will be held on a beach. Well, you should’ve seen the look she gave me.” Peter laughed, poking John on the shoulder. John wished his senior neighbor would stop poking him every time he thought he’d said something funny. But John didn’t have the heart to say anything, so he put up with being jabbed periodically.
“Peter, didn’t you tell me you were already checking your shoes out for the wedding?” John laughed. “You’re as bad as Alison.” He teased back.
“Hush now. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, plus I love winding her up. She gets irate with me so quickly. Life is never dull with my Alison.” Peter winked at John. “Okay, I’d better get going now. See you later, John.” Peter patted John on the shoulder before walking away.
“See you, Peter,” He waved as he bent to remove one of the sprinkler heads in the back garden.
He spent his morning cleaning the rest of the tiny heads of the sprinklers and daydreaming of his evening with Ilhan. As the afternoon approached, John felt too jittery to work. He decided to finish early, have a leisurely shower and get ready for his evening out.
Fuck, what if he doesn’t like where I take him or even worse, what if he finds me boring? Well, it’s better we find out now rather than later.
John went into the bathroom and brushed his teeth, then showered, thinking on what kind of topics to talk about to keep his date interested. What do I talk about with someone educated, who clearly knows his way around the social settings? While he tried to answer his own questions, he shaved in the shower with a frown on his face.
Getting out, he dried his hair and eyed the clothes neatly laid out on the bed. He decided to wear a pair of dark charcoal dress pants, and a white slim fit shirt he’d bought earlier in the day. John shook his head thinking of the things he’d already started doing for Ilhan. New clothes and taking a man out for a date. What next?
He took a deep breath to calm his nerves as he opened the top drawer to choose a new pair of body fitting boxers. Still feeling the palpitations and a cramp in his belly, he drank a glass of cold water with mint leaves. Fuck. What if I mess the whole thing up? On the menu, they commented about their fine wine, and what do I know about bloody wines? John tutted and took deeper breaths to calm his nerves, putting on his shirt and trousers. When he’d bought his new clothes, he’d also got himself a new bottle of cologne to impress Ilhan. He was glad he’d bought it. The scent was dark and rich; woody, spicy with a hint of citrus aroma…sexy.
John knew he was ready way too early, but better to be early than late, eh, John reassured himself. He combed his hair with his fingers and checked himself in the mirror one more time. Then sat down on the window sill to look outside until it was time to pick his guy up.
Fuck. My stomachs still doing flip-flops, he thought as he pinched the bridge of his nose. I’m okay. I’m calm. I’m only taking a guy out for dinner. Yeah. A simple, fun dinner. As John tried to reassure himself, he kept clenching and unclenching his hands. In the end, he put his hands in his pockets, only to take them out to check his shirt buttons…in case, you know, no one wants to go out with missing buttons or something. Finally! It’s time to pick my man up and be done with it. Yeah!
He walked out his door and turned to lock it when he saw Peter and Alison walking toward their condo. “My. My. Don’t you look so handsome, John,” Alison chirped, her leering eyes making John cringe deep inside. “Are you going on a date, cos I don’t remember seeing you dressed up like this before?”
“Aw. Come on, Alison. You’ve seen me before like this, right?”
“Not really. I think this is the first time I’ve seen you dressed so conservatively and elegantly, John.”
John shook his head and winked at Alison to drop the topic. “Ma’am, you flatter me with your compliments.”
“Oh! You silver-tongued-fox, you! Don’t you, ma’am, me. You know you’re a handsome man. It’s about time you met someone.”
She primped herself while her husband Peter dragged her inside, chortling. “You get out, John, while you can, my man. I’ve got her, run for your life before you tell her every secret plan about your evening.”
Alison joined him in giggling.
“I’m going…going,” he joined in their gentle banter.
“Oh my God! Are you dating someone from the block? It’s full of seniors and Ilhan? Have you found yourself a sugar mummy?” Alison asked with her eyes wide open, but couldn’t ask more as Peter was closing the door.
“Get inside, Alison. Leave the poor boy alone.”
John looked up to thank the Lord silently for rescuing him and went to the lift to pick up Ilhan. He checked himself one more time in the lift mirror. At Ilhan’s door, he took a deep breath and wiped his palms against his hips before knocking on the door.
When Ilhan opened the door, John almost gasped at the vision who opened the door. Ilhan was wearing tight, black pants with a well ironed black shirt. He’d rolled his sleeves up stylishly, and wore subtle eye makeup. The eye pencil he’d used only enhanced how vivid his blue eyes were. He was pretty sure Ilhan also used mascara, which made his eyelashes appear longer. He had a natural beauty, and full lips. They looked as if he’d been kissed, thanks to some lip gloss Ilhan used. As soon as he realized he was gawking at the handsome man, he coughed in embarrassment.
“Sorry for staring at you but you look incredible…sexy.
”
Ilhan blushed and gave a hesitant smile. “So do you,” he responded with a hungry gaze.
John reached for Ilhan’s collar to pull him toward him. As Ilhan’s breath hitched, John gave him a quick kiss and asked, “You ready to leave?”
“Yes,” he answered as he gazed on John’s lips.
They drove in silence to Freemantle in John’s Ford Mondeo. As they came close to the restaurant, John turned and watched Ilhan’s face. When he saw him looking around with curious eyes, he smiled and reached out for his small hand to rest it on his leg. John drove holding Ilhan’s hand and feeling possessive of the owner of that hand.
“Like it?” John asked in a way that made Ilhan turn and look at him as they entered the stylish restaurant. It looked a little like a Rajah’s palace. Whatever John showed on his face seemed to make the Ilhan smile and nod his head in a way that made John feel reassured.
He smiled and put his hand on Ilhan’s back to guide him inside.
“I love it. Thank you for bringing me here,” Ilhan leaned forward and murmured, when they were seated.
“My pleasure,” John drawled as he rubbed Ilhan’s ankle with his foot discreetly. When Ilhan startled and bit his lower lip, John grinned. “What? You look unforgettable,” John purred. Before Ilhan could reply, a cheerful waiter interrupted them to ask what they’d like to drink before ordering.
Throughout the evening, John flirted and teased Ilhan, making sure he knew John’s intentions. John scooped the fragrant butter chicken’s creamy sauce onto a piece of tandoori roti bread and offered it seductively to his lover to be. He even sensuously licked his ice cream with laughing eyes.
“Oh. My. God,” Ilhan leaned forward and whispered with red cheeks. “I don’t think I can stand up, John!”
“Why, Ilhan? What’s happening? Is something wrong?” He looked at him with total innocence in his eyes.
“What? Are you kidding me? It’s you that’s happening right now, you tease! I have a raging boner and I’m wearing all tight clothes. The minute I stand up, everyone would know what’s happening here.”
Awkward in Love Page 5