by Van Barrett
And when it was done, when we were both spent, he fell atop me. We were as hot as two furnaces, the room steamy and humid from all the sweat, but still we wrapped our arms around each other and held on tight.
“Wow,” I muttered again and again as I struggled for breath. “Wow. Wow.”
Lane laughed. “I see you're having trouble speaking.”
“Yeah.” I ran my hands down his sweat-slicked back and squeezed his ass. “And breathing. You winded me, bud.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“Pretty sure it's a good thing.” I grinned, grabbed a handful of his ass to squeeze, and didn't let go.
“Good.” He hugged me tight.
***
After we caught our breaths, Lane asked me what my first time with Cass was like. I told him the truth: it wasn't good. It wasn't particularly bad either, but the one thing I could definitely say is that it was awkward. And that never changed: it was always awkward. She liked to lay there. She didn't like to move or do anything. And I wasn't interested in really, you know, 'giving it to her' like the boys always joked about. I always thought if she moved more, I might like sex better?
Lane rolled off me and laid by my side. “Well, how was it with the other girls you've slept with?”
“Ha …” I sucked air through gritted teeth.
“River?” Lane leaned back from me. I think he knew what was coming, he just couldn't believe it. “There were others, right? Besides Cass?”
“Honestly?” I twisted my lip. “Nope.”
“What!” Lane barked a laugh of disbelief. “Now I know you're not telling me the truth. A stud like you? I know girls threw themselves at you, River. Right?”
“I guess so. Sure.”
“And you're telling me you've only slept with one girl in your life?”
I shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Wow.” He shook his head. I could tell he still didn't quite believe it. “Were you waiting for marriage or something?”
“No. Just playing hockey. Never really had time to date.”
“Huh.” His eyes narrowed, and I could tell he was looking deeper into me. To see if the information fit. “Yeah, I guess … I guess that'd make sense, wouldn't it. Damn. That's crazy.”
There was a long silence between us before Lane asked me another question.
“So, I'm curious. Did you ever think about … guys?”
I took a deep breath while I chose my words carefully.
“I've always admired guys who had nice bodies and stuff. But I guess I thought that was normal? And all us boys on the team kinda joke around with each other like that. You know. Slap a guy on his bare ass and say, 'hey there, sexy!' That kind of thing. So I guess I didn't think much about it.”
Lane smiled politely. “But, did you ever think about being with a guy? Or have you ever kissed a guy or anything like that?”
“Not really. The only thing I've done that even comes close was – errr.” I chuckled, a little embarrassed. “I guess I sucked on that dildo of mine once.”
“Oh!” Lane gasped with a shiver of glee. “You have to tell me the story on that thing, by the way.”
“Er, what about it?”
“Well, why do you have it, for one?”
“Ha …” I shook my head. “One day, Cass came home with a bag from the sex shop. She said she had a fun project for us to try. Obviously, it was the dildo maker in a box thingy. So, uh, we followed the instructions, and a bit later we had a copy of my cock.”
“Uh huh. What'd she want it for?” Lane squinted. “Did she, say, want to practice on it? So she could get better at giving you head?”
I looked at him and softly laughed. “That thing never touched her lips, Lane. Not once. As soon as the mold was made, she thrust it in my face, saying it was 'my turn' to find out what it was like. I guess she wanted me to see how horrible and awful sucking dick was supposed to be?”
Lane looked troubled when he heard that.
“But whatever, I fuckin' did what she wanted. I sucked it. To prove to her that it wasn't so bad, I guess? And maybe that was dumb of me. Because she just gawked at me, like she was totally stunned. And she said something hurtful like, 'wow, too bad you can't suck your own dick, because you sure seem to love that! Maybe you can find someone else's dick to suck!' And uh, that was the beginning of the fight that led to our break-up.”
Lane covered his mouth and drew a horrified gasp. “Oh. My. God. I am so sorry.”
I chuckled. “Hey. It's not your fault.”
He gulped. “Yeah …”
I didn't know what else I could say about that whole situation. I yawned and stretched my arms out. “Sorry, man. I'm super wiped.”
“Oh. That's okay.” Lane curled up on my side. “You're welcome to stay the night if you want.”
“Mm.” I writhed in his bed sheets and made myself comfortable. “Thanks. I think I will.”
31
Bottled Up
– Lane –
The sound of movement roused me from my slumber: the soft patter of someone trying to stealthily step into a pair of jeans. And then the sound of a zipper rising. I mustered the willpower to open my eyes. The early morning sun, needling through the Venetian blinds, was bright and blinding.
“Mmmf,” I moaned. I saw River's shape at the foot of the bed. Shirtless. He was bent over and pulling on his socks. He heard my stirring and looked at me.
“Sorry. Tried not to wake you,” he said softly.
“I'm glad you did.” I rubbed my fists into my eyes. Because hell, if I woke up all alone, I'd wonder if I hadn't lost my mind and imagined last night. “What time is it?” I asked.
“Six thirty.”
I mewled. “You're off so early? I was hoping I could cook you a hearty breakfast.”
“That sounds nice, Lane.” He took in a shallow breath. “But I gotta run. We've got practice. And I gotta book it to my place to let Deke out beforehand.”
“Practice?” I scoffed. “But the season just ended last night. You just got back into town last night!”
“Yeah.” River pulled on his shirt. I watched as he pulled the hemline down his muscled torso – like curtains being drawn. Show's over, folks!
“But now that the season's over, we shift to the tournaments, bud. This is what we've been playing for all year. We've got the NCAA tournament just starting up and running through the next four weeks.” He let out a chuckle. “It's about to get even crazier for us.”
“Oh.” I swallowed. “Wow. The life of an athlete.”
“Tchyeah,” River laughed. “You can say that again.”
He wedged his feet into his shoes and tied his laces. “I think we've got a good shot at winning the whole thing this year, Lane.”
“I believe you.”
“Only thing I'm worried about is Jono. You're friends with Devon – you have any idea what's up with them?”
“Uh.” My throat immediately tightened and I fought to clear it. “Remember when I told you she's a heart-breaker?”
“Yeah.”
“I'm not sure, but I think the heart breaker might have struck again.”
“Great,” River huffed. “It's not like him to fall so hard for a girl. I don't understand what happened.”
“She's got her ways.” I shrugged. “He certainly wouldn't be the first guy to end up in over his head.”
“The timing's awful, Lane. We got the tournament coming up and he's got no heart out there. He's absolutely lost his game.”
“I'm sorry. I don't know what you want me to do?” And right away I regretted opening the door that much.
“Could you ask your friend and find out what happened? Maybe it could be worked out between them?”
“Whoa, no.” I groaned. “One, it's not my place. Two, Devon's a strong woman and does what she wants. Three, it's kind of a weird time for us right now.”
“Yeah, that's fair. I don't wanna put you in a bad place. I've just never seen him like this.
” River sighed. “I dunno what to do about it.”
“I don't know either, River.” I sighed. “I mean, if she tells me something, I'll let you know.”
“Would you?” River asked.
“Yeah, but I can't promise anything.”
Eager to change the mood and conversation, I turned on my side. The bed sheets cascaded down and let a glimpse of my bare hip and buttocks show.
River noticed. He stole a glimpse and studied me for a moment. But then he forced himself to look away, his eyes darting to the corner of the room instead.
“Listen Lane.”
Uh oh. “Yeah?”
“About last night.”
“Uh huh.”
“Really. I meant it. Word can't get around.”
I shrugged. “I know …”
There was so much more I wanted to say, so much more I wanted to ask him in that moment. Things like, was that it? Was that a one and done? Did you satisfy your 'curious straight guy' urge, and now you know that gay life's not for you? Or did you like it? Did you find something with me last night – something that you never could find with Cass?
But all those things I wasn't brave enough to ask or say.
“Thanks Lane,” he whispered so quietly, I almost couldn't hear him. He kissed me softly – on the forehead. “I had a good time.”
“Me too.” I grabbed his forearm and stared into his eyes. I was desperate to come up with a reason for us to get together again. Working on the 'report' was too blatant, too paper-thin. “I'll uh, I'll ask Devon and try to find out more details.”
“Would you?”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Sure.”
God, what am I getting myself into?
“Thanks, bud. I appreciate it. The whole team would.”
“Yeah, hey, no problem,” I said hoarsely. “See you later. Have a good practice.”
“Later.” He nodded. And with that, River was gone. I heard his footsteps trail through my apartment, and then the front door shut.
And then the deafening silence set in. And it was followed by the soul-crushing questions and doubts and outrage over what I'd done.
Was I insane? I'd just fucked River Brame. And what's more, I was dumb enough to trick myself into thinking it could ever be anything more than just a dirty, meaningless fuck.
He was a guy who would always be in the sports media spotlight – at least for the next, oh, decade and a half, minimum. A guy who literally could not afford to have any gay rumors following him around, because it might very well cost him his playing career. A guy who was clearly concerned about anyone ever finding out about us.
A guy who was so into hockey, he had hordes of women throwing themselves at him – and he'd only been with one to date.
I had no right to get attached. I had no right to expect anything ever being returned to me, emotionally. He'd made that clear. He didn't say 'I love you, Lane,' he said, 'promise me no one will find out about us or I'm leaving.'
And, on top of it all? With my little Bitch and Moan column, I was the reason he and his ex-girlfriend broke up. If River ever found out about that, he'd probably want nothing more to do with me.
“God damn it.” I swore under my breath as I stared at the ceiling. “I'm such an idiot.”
***
I was a zombie that morning. As tired as I was, I couldn't get back to sleep. My mind raced, torn between feeling excited and feeling ashamed.
It's so easy to trick yourself into thinking you're doing something for the right reasons.
I guess I thought it'd be a huge thrill. You know, seducing a straight guy. And not just any straight guy. But River Brame. Pride of UND. Future millionaire and famous athlete. A guy who sorely needed a really good blowjob – and what a coincidence, because I was a guy who could give a phenomenal blowjob! And I'd be glad to give him all the head he ever wanted, even if there wasn't any actual feelings between us. Just the joy of corrupting a soon-to-be famous athlete and straight guy was satisfying enough …!
But deeper down, I knew there was more going on, no matter how much I tried to suppress it. I think I was afraid to find out just how much I liked River. I was all too happy to lie to myself; I thought I could fuck River and not let my feelings get in the way. But I knew I was deluding myself when I watched my fingers gently unravel a fresh condom down his towering cock. I was almost ashamed. Not ashamed enough to stop, mind you, but ashamed enough to know that I liked River. That if I gave him this, I might lose him. Like I'd lost others when we'd jumped into bed way too soon.
'But that's just a coincidence! It wouldn't have worked out with those other guys anyway!' your mind will assure you as you lean back and gently guide that big cock into your gaping entry. 'Just have some fun!'
And so I wasn't strong enough to stop. My dignity, my self pride, went right out the window.
Don't do it, Lane, I said to myself. Even as I bared my ass to River and let him spread me open and finger me.
But still that voice chanted: Don't go further!
Because I knew if we did it, then and there, I'd get all attached and think he was mine. Some guys can fuck whatever moves and never form an emotional bond. Good for them. Over the course of my years, I've learned that I am not one of those guys.
I tried to tell him that. And that, in my mind, was enough. If he wanted to break my trust, he'd have to live with the burden of my heart-break. If he was heartless enough, though, he wouldn't give a damn. My hurt would roll off him like water from a duck's back.
And so River fucked me. Fucked me like I'd never been fucked before. The feel of his powerful hands, gripping my ass cheeks so tight. The disturbingly satisfying clap of his muscled waist and thighs smacking into my round ass. The pure, unadulterated strength inherent in him. In his hands, in his actions, in his thrusts, even the masculine power coursing through his throbbing cock.
He pulled my body up and down his dick. Like my whole body was just a damned fuck toy, made personally for him. It was raw, the way he fucked me. Slow at first – but only because I begged him to go gently. Then heavier. And faster. Until he could jack-hammer into me. Like a muscular, tanned, sweaty construction worker breaking up the pavement below him. An unrelenting, soul-shattering pounding that numbed my senses. Bam bam bam bam bam. His fat tip struck blows over my prostate with every thrust, and I leaked cum all over my bed sheets.
I thought then that River wasn't just a curious straight guy anymore. He was finding something in himself, something that had been bottled up and hidden from the world for a very long time. But with me, he could finally let it all come pouring out. He didn't hurt me – but he was rough, carnal, urgent.
All I could do was scream into my pillow until my voice was scratchy and hoarse. God, he gave it to me, alright. And, slut that I apparently am, I loved every last second of it.
Sigh.
32
Lobster Tail
– Lane –
In the days that followed, I did my best to focus on school and homework and not let the excitement with River rule my life. Because as high as the emotional roller coaster could take you one day, it always followed that peak with a drop so staggering, a nauseating gravity bottomed out in the pit of your stomach. The best thing one can do is not get on that ride in the first place. Of course, saying that, and doing that, are two completely different things.
The truly sucky part was, since me and Devon were having struggles, I had no one to share any of this with. No one to sit there and listen to the ups and downs of my crazy mind. What are those, you ask? Why, I'd be glad to share, since no one else will listen!
First, there were all those promising signs that River was into me. (He's told me intimate details about his life. He let me suck him off in the first place – and then he came back for more as soon as he got back to town. He's now been with just as many guys as he has been girls. He took my load in his mouth, for God's sake!)
Doesn't it all seem so obvious? He wants me bad.
On the ot
her hand, who could forget all those signs that we're totally doomed, womp-womp. (He didn't want anyone to know about us. He clearly had a very busy and hectic hockey schedule that took up all his time. Even if we were into each other, our relationship had an expiration date. He was already putting me in a weird spot by asking me to sniff around Devon's business to help his hockey team out.)
Isn't it obvious? River was just fiending for a great blowjob. He didn't care who gave it to him, girl or guy. Maybe he's a little bi-curious – enough so that he'd sleep with a guy. But it'll be a cold day in hell when he actually wants to be serious with another man. That's why I need to teach myself to be okay with being a piece of meat for the next few months. Because when am I ever likely to pull a stud like River? Never, that's when. So it's best to learn to enjoy what you have, Lane, not what you so desperately want.
… Ahem.
As I said. The only winning move is not to get on the ride in the first place.
So, I did my best to dedicate myself to my classes while I waited for the next move on the game board.
***
It was Wednesday afternoon, in the j-school computer lab after classes, that I saw Devon again.
I was already behind my computer and busily typing away.
“Hey,” Devon sang as she came in. “How ya been?”
“Good, good. You?”
“Pretty alright.” She took a seat. “Whatcha working on?”
“This … River article …”
“Oh? How's it going?”
“Pretty bad. I just keep typing the same first sentence again and again before deleting it.”
Devon laughed. “How's it go?”
I groaned. “Something like … I have to admit I didn't know a thing about River Brame, but … Dot, dot, dot. Who knows.”
“'But I soon found out first-hand why everyone loves him'?” Devon finished the sentence with a wry grin.