by Lane Hayes
I leaned in to nip his bottom lip. “I’m pretty big down there too. Wanna see?”
He snickered appreciatively then threw his arms around my neck and molded his bare chest to mine. “Yeah, I wanna see. You said something about three fingers. I’m going to need proof.”
I hissed when he raked his fingers down my torso and cupped my hard-on through my khakis. “Damn, you’re a dirty little fucker, aren’t you, Rem?”
“So dirty.” His enthusiastic nod should have been funny but we were both strung out and horny as hell. Action was what we needed. Not words.
I smacked his ass and gestured for him to hurry up. Then I moved to sit on the edge of the double bed, quickly toeing off my shoes before reaching to unbuckle my belt. I unzipped my pants and at the last second, propped his pillow against the wall to lay back and watch the show.
Remy bent over to unlace his boots and shoved his jeans around his ankles. He kicked everything off then stood. And froze. I probably did too. He was still wearing briefs but the outline of his erection was hard to miss. Pun intended. I itched to touch him. He was slim but toned with a light trail of hair just south of his belly button. I wondered what I looked like to him. He was so graceful and kind of pretty for a guy. And I was a fucking bear. Though his ragged breathing and sex-hazed half-closed eyelids made me think he had a thing for hairy, muscular men.
“C’mere,” I commanded in a low voice.
He obeyed, halting when his knees hit the side of the mattress. His nostrils flared as his gaze moved reverently over my body. I didn’t think anyone had ever looked at me quite like that. It made me feel powerful in a way that had nothing to do with brute strength. I grasped his hand and gently pulled him over me.
We hissed at the first feel of real friction. I slipped my fingers under the waistband of his underwear and kneaded his bare ass, squeezing him roughly as he lowered his lips to mine. He swayed his hips seductively and moaned, licking and sucking my tongue until we were both gasping for air. When he buried his face in my shoulder, I pushed the thin fabric over his cheeks and then arched my back meaningfully.
Remy sat back on his knees to shimmy out of his underwear. Then he palmed his thick cock with his right hand and stroked himself. My mouth went dry but my hands felt slick and clumsy. This man wasn’t some trick in a backroom. He mattered to me. Hell, making him feel good mattered to me.
I smeared precum over the wide mushroom head in a lazy circular motion then traced his slit. My left hand stroked my impossibly hard shaft through my boxer briefs while my right hand teased him. Our eyes were locked but we were ultra-aware of the tension building between us. In my mind, a million things were on the brink of happening simultaneously. I didn’t know where to begin. Remy did.
He crawled between my legs and yanked my briefs down, finally freeing my rigid dick. He stared for a long moment before tentatively gripping me in his fist. Then he glanced up and gave me a lascivious grin.
“I understand the three-finger thing now. But I’m gonna try to take you with two.”
“Holy fuck,” I choked. “Are we…are you sure you wanna have sex? Like all the way? We don’t have to, you know. We can go slow and—”
“Shh.” He set his hand over my mouth and chuckled. “You said you wanted to fuck me and Tony, baby, I want you so bad I’m shaking. We’re big boys. We make the rules. I trust you and more than anything, at this very second, I need you. Bad.”
I licked his palm until he moved it from my mouth, then I held his wrist and kissed his fingers. “Help me get my pants off. I’m so hard, my dick is killin’ me here.”
Remy smirked but gamely tugged my khakis and briefs off and tossed them onto the floor. Before I could make a crack about him throwing my stuff around, he grabbed my cock and stroked. Up and down, nice and slow. He adjusted his grip, tightening his hold slightly before bending to lick me. Then he glanced up with wide eyes as he flattened his tongue and sucked. I hummed as I threaded my fingers through his curls and pulled. Not hard. I was hoping to convey a message without resorting to speech if possible. Thankfully, he got it. He opened wide and swallowed my length.
“Argh!” I growled, lifting my hips to meet his talented mouth.
Fuck, he was good at that. He sucked my cock like a fucking pro, pausing occasionally to stroke me with a wicked twist of his wrist or to lick my shaft. He knew the exact amount of pressure to apply and when to let up. I don’t know if he sensed it wouldn’t take much to make me lose it, but he was right. I was on the brink of release and I didn’t want to come like this if he’d give me more. Remy let go with a pop then licked his way up my body, stopping to play with my nipples.
I yanked at his hair gently to get his attention. “C’mere, Rem. Kiss me.”
He moaned with pleasure at the request and hurried to obey. Exploratory kisses gave way to a passionate fusion of tongues. We made out in a frenzy, desperate to be close. I wrapped my legs around his ass, holding him so our leaking cocks glided against each other. When I pulled his cheeks apart and slipped my finger over his hole, he trembled and went still. I tapped the sensitive flesh, loving the way he writhed against me. Then I pushed the tip inside.
“Oh, my God.”
I was strung out as hell, but unbelievably, I laughed. “Baby, my dick is way bigger than that. If you want—where you goin’?”
He reached over me to open the top drawer on the nightstand by the bed and tossed a bottle of lube and a condom next to me. “Put it on,” he demanded as he uncapped the lube and poured some on his hand.
I suited up quickly and hijacked the bottle from him. I almost lost it when I saw what he was doing. “Hey, that’s my job. Turn around.”
“I’m ready. Just lie down and—”
“No. You lie down and let me take care of you.”
“I can’t wait.”
“Yes, you can. I got you, babe. I promise.”
Remy flashed a brilliant smile before flipping onto his stomach, wiggling his ass enticingly at me. “Get to it.”
I warmed the gel between my fingers and almost passed out when I looked over and saw him holding his ass open like a gift. I swallowed hard before massaging the puckered skin and then pushing inside. He buried his head in his pillow and grunted when I curled my digit to find his sweet spot. He made a mewling noise I understood meant he was ready for another, so I slipped a second one beside the first and finger fucked him. When he met me thrust for thrust, I added the tip of a third. And that’s when he went wild.
He groaned as he bucked his hips, wordlessly asking for more. The sight of him in this blissed-out state was too much. I had to have him. I braced my weight over his back and quickly replaced my fingers with my swollen cock. Remy gripped the sheets, pulling one corner off as he fought to adjust to my girth. I didn’t push, though the urge to do so was overwhelming. I waited until he nodded before moving again, inch by inch until I was buried deep inside my lover.
“You feel so good, Remy. So good,” I purred in his ear as I rocked my hips.
“So do you. Fuck me. I’m ready.”
I closed my eyes for a moment and cautioned myself not to let go. This is Remy. He’s special. You gotta be gentle. The mantra played in my head as I began to move with languid, short strokes. He was warm and tight and fuck, he smelled nice.
When he lifted his hips insistently, I picked up the pace. His litany of “faster, harder” was impossible to ignore. The bed springs squeaked as I fucked him into the mattress. It was almost comically loud but we were too far gone to even consider slowing down now. I pulled Remy to his side and held his leg open as I drove inside him before reaching around to jack him. He turned his head and licked my mouth. It was less a kiss than it was another way to be connected. We were bound to each other and lost in a rhythm of our own making. I would have done anything to make it last, but I felt my orgasm bearing down on me like a freight train and knew I was about to explode.
“Rem, I’m gonna cum. I can’t—”
“Yes! D
o it! Fuck me! Yes, yes, yes,” he chanted loudly.
And that was the end of me. I pistoned my hips in a wild chase to the finish line just as Remy came all over my hand and the sheet in front of him. I held him tightly around his middle until we both stopped shaking.
We were quiet in the aftermath. Maybe we were catching our breaths. Maybe we needed time to adjust to what we’d done. Did it change anything? Yeah, probably. I hoped so, but I didn’t know how or what that might mean.
“Are you okay?” Remy asked.
I chuckled lightly and kissed his neck. “I think that’s supposed to be my line.”
He rolled over to face me, nudging his knee between mine so we were still connected. I loved his serene expression. He looked happy. And yeah, it was pretty fucking amazing to think I was responsible for the goofy grin on his face.
“I’m fantastic,” he chirped. “Super-fantastic.”
My smile split my mug in two. “Me too. But…what happens now? Or was this a one-time deal?”
“God, I hope not!” Remy caressed my stubbled chin then ran his hand over my chest. “Now, we enjoy each other. Don’t overthink. Just enjoy.”
“But I’m not out and—”
“Relax. I’m not asking you to change anything. Be yourself. Do what’s right for you.”
“What if what’s right for me isn’t right for you?”
“Tony, I’m covered in cum while riding a serious orgasmic high. Don’t ruin my buzz. We’ll cross that bridge if we need to. Communication is the key. Talk to me if you’re worried or unsure and I’ll do the same.” He waited for my nod of acquiescence before continuing. “Are you worried about anything now?”
“Yeah, I’m worried we broke the bed. These fucking springs are so damn loud. Not only does your roommate know what we were up to, your neighbors five doors down do too.” Remy busted up laughing. “You’re coming to my house next time. I’ve got a king-sized mattress that doesn’t squeak and best of all…I live alone. And if you spend the night, I’ll make you pancakes in the morning.”
He sobered suddenly and gave me a look I couldn’t read. “You know what I’m worried about?”
“What?”
“Falling for you.”
This was where I usually got stuck. I didn’t do romantic stuff well and I knew I’d fuck it up if I tried. So I went with a safer approach.
“You eat my pancakes, you’re gonna fall hard, Rem. You up to the challenge?” I asked, purposely thickening my accent.
Remy’s answering smile was blinding. “Yes. I definitely am.”
Chapter 5
That was where we started.
We did our best to take this thing between us slowly, but desire won out every time. It wasn’t just the incredible sex either. It was the thrill of discovery. Innocent conversations about favorite childhood books could spark intense banter about our mutual love of everything ever written by Dr. Seuss and Richard Scarry. Who talked about shit like that? I guess we did, and the crazy thing was, I loved it. I wanted to do it all the time.
I wanted the lazy lunches in the park and the pillow talk after mind-blowing sex. I wanted my new best friend with a fervor I wouldn’t be able to hide from the people who knew me well for long. So I pushed aside the worry and allowed myself the luxury of basking in the incredible feeling of falling in love. ’Cause yeah…I was no Harvard grad, but I knew I had it bad for the cute, curly haired boy with the guitar.
The month following our “date” flowed with an easy rhythm. Remy’s playing time in the park dwindled from one or two days a week at the beginning of June to zero by the end of the month when he was hired to teach at one of the private elementary schools he’d applied to in Manhattan. He was busy with meetings and had even taken on a couple of tutoring gigs. We still met under our tree for lunch. Not every day, but often enough. And at least once or twice a week, we met at my house.
Most of the time, he came over after dark. We’d screw like rabbits for hours on end. On the sofa, over the kitchen island, in the shower, up against the wall, or sometimes just in my bed. You name it, we did it. Then we’d collapse into each other’s arms in a fitful night’s sleep, wake up to share a cup of coffee and go our separate ways. We slipped into each other’s lives unobtrusively and with little fanfare. Remy didn’t push me or demand more of my time than I was ready to give. I was in no hurry to share him. But that was because the truth required me to explain who he was and quite possibly, who I was. I wasn’t ready. No way.
I kept my head down at work but made an effort to grab the occasional beer with my cousins at quitting times. I stopped by Mom’s for dinner at least once during the week and saw everyone again on Sundays at Nonna’s. The only potential problem was Karen. My Aunt Fran issued an invitation for her to join us at Nonna’s every weekend. I didn’t know how to handle it because truthfully, I liked Karen. She was a refreshing change to the usual gaggle of cousins and the same ol’ stories. We’d chat amicably over a drink before dinner then she’d sit next to me at the table and we’d chat some more. Then I’d take her home and hurry across the bridge to see Remy.
She paid me back for those rides in biscotti, which was sweet, but I really didn’t think it was cause for alarm. We were only friends. So what if my mother and aunt exchanged knowing glances and my cousins ribbed me about my “girlfriend,” Karen Cannoli? I’d been razzed like this for years. This was nothing new.
Or was it?
“Yo Tony, Lindz wants to know if you’re bringin’ Karen to our barbeque Saturday night for a pre-July 4th bash.”
Mikey leaned against the rough framework I’d just put into place with his arms crossed over his barrel chest. If I hadn’t been holding a blowtorch, I would have reached out to smack him upside the head and hopefully remove that smirk. I settled for taking my protective glasses off so he’d clearly see my weary eye-roll.
“I got plans, Mikey. I’ll see you at Sun—”
“We’re eating early. Come on. It’ll be fun. Bocce ball, badminton, potato salad, and lotsa cold beer.” He winked playfully. “That you’ll bring. Just kidding. Bring yourselves, but if Karen insists, we won’t refuse baked goods.”
“Mikey…I can’t. I’m busy. Next time for sure.” I amended my tone from irritated to contrite when I noticed his scrutinizing gaze.
“Talk to me about her,” he insisted.
“We’re friends. That’s all.”
“She likes you, and it’s kinda obvious you like her too. Do you need…I don’t know, any tips or anything?”
“Tips?”
“Yeah, you know…sex tips. It’s been a while since you’ve had a girlfriend and maybe you forgot how to—”
“Oh, my God. Stop. Now.” I set the blowtorch on the bench and tipped my hard hat back to give him my full attention. “I need zero tips, Mikey. Zero. I like Karen but I’m not sure how many times I have to tell you we’re only—”
“Friends. Got it. You have a problem with identifiers, you know.”
“Huh?”
“Like nouns and stuff. A friend is a casual title you give to people you do casual things with…like the guy you eat lunch with in the park. You’re friends, right?”
My mouth suddenly went dry like I’d just sucked in sawdust. And fuck, I felt dizzy too. How did he know about Remy? What had he seen? It couldn’t have been much, I reminded myself. We weren’t demonstrative in public at all. I’d been in a closet too long to do much more than nudge my knee against his or accidentally brush his fingers when I handed over a sandwich.
“Right,” I lied in a huskier than normal voice.
“And you and Karen are friends who are on their way to being more than friends, right?”
“Wrong. We’re not, Mikey. Don’t pick out china. It ain’t happenin’.”
“But why? You like her! And you’re happy. You walk around with a big, stupid grin on your face all the time. We all notice it. Joey!” he called out. “Doesn’t Tony seem like he’s got something extra to smile about lately?”
Joey stopped nailing a board into place on a new set of framework and gave a short laugh before making a crude tongue in cheek gesture that left little to the imagination. “Yeah, I’d say so.”
I could feel heat flood my cheeks when a few of the guys in the area chuckled at his antics.
“Hey, stop freakin’ out. We’re only messin’ with you. Bring her Saturday. I promised Lindz you’d be there so I’m warnin’ you, Tony…you better not skip out on me. If I have to come get you, I’ll do it.”
Mikey’s jocular tone let me know he was kidding but crap, this was bad on so many levels. He thought Karen and me…and he knew about Remy and—Jesus. How did I talk myself out of this? Maybe if I laid low and kept quiet, he’d forget.
No such luck. If I wasn’t harassed at work, I was getting it every time I ran into a relative or had dinner at my mom’s. I didn’t know how to correct the misconception because every time they saw Karen and me together, we were friendly. I don’t think they noticed that she did most of the talking now. It wasn’t that way with Remy and me, but they had no idea who he was. And I wasn’t sure I would ever tell them. It seemed more important that I find an effective way to let them know Karen and I weren’t a couple. Words apparently didn’t work. And when my mother invited her for dinner without telling me, I knew I had to figure something out fast.