by Jamie Lake
For Chris, the way Mason slid his hands up and down, from the base of his hand to the tip of his fingers, then back down to his wrist, felt better than any foreplay he’d ever experienced. It was so intimate, so sensitive, yet so masculine. No one had ever done this for him before, and Tim hated whenever Mason would ask him if he’d give him a little massage. In fact, Chris realized, true moments of tenderness - not just lust or affection - but real, visceral, intentional, mindful tenderness, were something he had never experienced. Until perhaps this moment.
Mason was miraculous. A healer. Chris let out a little sigh, feeling all his stress and unhappiness, anxiety and misery, expelled on his breath.
“God, I needed this so bad.” Chris said.
Mason grinned crookedly, “Glad you feel that way,” he said.
“I like making people feel good,” Mason said, splaying all of Chris’s fingers until they popped.
One. At. A. Time.
Chris made a tiny gasp and then let out a long sigh. And that sound of total pleasure and release turned Mason on more than he’d been turned on in months. Even more than by a woman almost ready to climax. That surprised him, scared him, but also thrilled him enough to want more.
It was getting hot and Chris didn’t know if it was how arousing the hand massage was or the warmth of the daylight flooding into Mason’s living room.
“Now, breathe,” Mason instructed, pressing his hand on Chris' heart. It felt so firm but secure, and Chris exhaled as if he’d never exhaled before. There was something about Mason’s touch that felt so healing, like he had a heavy weight lifted off him.
“Good,” Mason said, sliding from his elbow to his wrist.
He almost felt like crying, actually. Chris thought of the months of tension and heartbreak with his ex that had been pent up for so long. No one had ever done anything like this for him before. It was so sweet and thoughtful, erotic but meaningful.
Chris’ cock was swelling, and there was no denying it: he couldn’t help himself, and as Mason moved closer, the back of his hand rested against his swollen, hard cock.
Chris threw his head back in ecstasy, biting his lip and Mason took to the cue to massage at his wrist more.
“Fuck, wow. Ugh. That’s amazing...where’s that connect to?” Chris asked, his eyes closed enjoying the moment.
Mason hesitated a moment, then said bluntly, “Your cock.”
His voice was low, powerful.
Chris' eyes flashed open and met Mason’s hazel ones. Neither said a word, but the body heat and passion between the two of them was undeniable. They stared back and forth a long while, their lips parted. Then Chris looked at Mason’s full mouth, so moist, so full, so thick, so delicious. He wanted Mason’s lips like he’d never wanted to kiss a man before in his life, and he could tell by the steady, hungry look in Mason’s eyes that he wanted nothing less.
Mason let out a low groan of a sigh when there was a noise outside: a child screaming and a woman shouting back; then a pounding knock at the door.
“Shit,” Mason said, stashing the lube under the couch. “It’s my ex.”
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CHAPTER 11
The knock at the door and the immediate DINGDONG of the doorbell was more than obnoxious: it was an interruption and ruining of the most perfect moment--opportunity--experience Chris could remember. He rushed into the bathroom, leaving the door open, and looked into the mirror for a second before splashing ice cold water over his face, hoping he could get his arousal to calm down. He had a wet spot in his underwear and could hear the high pitched screech of a child beyond the room.
God, what had just happened.? Had he imagined it?
Mason, for his part, felt his heart pounding with both anxiety and frustration. He welcomed Victoria in and prepared himself for the usual.
“What took you so long?” she demanded.
“I didn’t know you were coming over,” Mason said.
“Well, do I need an appointment? Are you that busy?” his ex said, sarcastically, her bracelets jangling as she brought her hand up to her face in mock amazement.
Mason ignored her and grunted as he lifted his baby girl up into the air.
“Daddy. Daddy. Put me down.” Lili squealed with delight.
“You mean, you don’t want me to make you an airplane? Brrrr...” Mason roared, spinning his daughter through the air like a jet.
“Don’t get her riled up, please.” Victoria snapped, “God, why’s it so hot in here? Are you going to offer me something to drink?”
“One second,” Mason said. He passed by the bathroom and eyeballed for Chris as if he should come out, or better yet, leave.
“So, what’s up?” Mason asked, running some tap water into a glass.
“From the faucet?” she whined, “Don’t you have some juice? You never have anything in your fridge.”
Lili was clinging like a monkey to Mason’s bare leg. He just walked around with her hanging on there, encouraging her to make monkey noises, which she did most hilariously.
“So, I need a little money,” Victoria said.
“But I just gave you...” Mason started to respond.
“Well, I need a little more,” she cut him off, one hand out, the other on her hip.
At this moment, Chris finally emerged from the bathroom, much to Mason’s relief. Either he needed to get out as soon as possible, or help him improve Victoria’s horrible presence.
“Hey, thanks for letting me use your bathroom,” Chris said, coming out of the hallway. “I better get running.”
“Who’s this?” the woman asked with sudden energy, her tone flirtatious.
“I’m Chris, and your name is...?” Chris asked, most charmingly. He smiled broadly and held out his hand.
“Lydia-Victoria,” she smiled, chewing on her gum, as she gave him a limp handshake. “But you can call me Victoria. He’s cute, Mason. Where’d you get such a cute friend?” she enquired. Her hair was dyed a remarkably convincing shade of corn silk blonde, but her features made it clear she was a native Tica. Everything about her foundation, iridescent blue contact lenses, and form of dress made it apparent she was trying to look like a Beverly Hills starlet.
“You married?” she asked Chris.
“No, I..” Chris stammered.
“He’s my client, Victoria. And all I’ve got is faucet water. Take it or leave it,” he said, handing the glass to her.
She took it, her manicured hand seizing it as hesitantly as if it was a filthy toilet brush, “Don’t mind him,” she said to Chris. “So you were saying, married? Wouldn’t he and Priscilla make the cutest couple?
“Um ... yeah. Except that...” Mason started to explain.
“Uck.” Victoria gagged, looking down in her glass with revulsion, “Don’t you know how to wash your dishes? God, Mason. It looks like there’s a piece of corn in there.”
“You’re exaggerating,” Mason sighed, “It’s just a hard water stain from the dishwasher.”
“I better go,” Chris blurted. “Thanks again for everything, Mason. Nice to meet you, Victoria.” Chris said, seeing himself out the door.
“See ya,” he heard Mason call after him, but before he could shake his hand goodbye, Victoria stepped in his path.
“What is wrong with you?” she asked Mason, “Don’t you know how to use no dish soap? How could you even serve me something like that. I bet you did that on purpose. Nasty motherfucker.” she screamed.
Chris couldn’t wait to get out the door.
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CHAPTER 12
Chris had a lot to process that night. The hand massage that almost lead to something more, but what exactly? He’d never know. Damn the luck that Victoria showed up and ruined everything. She was so nasty that Chris actually considered the idea that she was worse than Tim. More unfortunate for Mason, their daughter meant that there was no way he could simply avoid her.
Something had
almost happened. There was that pregnant pause when he was certain they were about to kiss, or at least Chris thought so, but now as the night ticked on and he found himself obsessing instead of writing, he was starting to doubt himself. Maybe he was imagining things. Maybe Mason was just really, really sweet. He was straight after all, obviously. How could Chris have become so convinced that he was about to kiss him??
Maybe because he wanted it to happen so badly. He would delude himself about that hot body until the cows came home. He could imagine countless women wanted him: he was smart, he was charming, he was funny, and he was sensual, and from what he could see, he was a great father. What was there not to like?
Chris could still smell the scented lube on his hands. He raised it to his face: it was more than that: it smelled like Mason too, and the memories of what had almost happened flooded back to him.
What was he getting so worked up for? Even if Mason was curious, where could it lead? Maybe he’d just use Chris like Tim did: chew the gum and spit it out when the flavor was gone. Besides, even if he really liked Chris, Mason was unlikely to drop his whole straight identity for a brief fling or even a long-term relationship.
It just wasn’t a good idea to lust after a straight man: it could only lead to a broken heart and confusion, and quite frankly, he just couldn’t handle any more of that. Truth be told, however, Chris had little choice in the matter. If Mason wanted him, really wanted him, he would be malleable putty in those strong, sensitive hands.
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CHAPTER 13
“Settle down, honey,” Mason told his daughter Lili, as she jumped up and down on his bed. “It’s almost time for bed.”
“Aw, but I don’t wanna.” she whined, landing on her butt with a thud and flinging herself onto her back with her arms spread-eagle.
“I’ll read you a bedtime story, but you have ten minutes to get ready. That’s it.”
She gasped with pleasure, “Can I get some cookies and hot cocoa?”
He smiled and shook his head; she was getting as bad as her mother. “One cookie, and you’ll go to bed in ten minutes.”
“If you give me two cookies or three cookies, I promise I’ll go to bed in ten minutes. Promise.”
“I don’t negotiate with terrorists,” he said, chuckling to himself. She was such a sweet girl. She had all her mother’s best qualities and his, he liked to think. She had light curly hair like a half-Latina Shirley Temple.
“Aww,” she groaned, bouncing up and down, “you’re way tougher than mommy.”
“That’s not gonna change, either. Now, you can brush your teeth after the snack, but you should be totally ready when I come to tuck you in, okay?”
“Okay.” she said.
He began to prepare the hot cocoa as his mind drifted to what had just happened between him Chris. He was confused, to be honest. He knew what he wanted to happen: something he’d never really done with a guy before. He didn’t know how far he’d go, but his imagination was spinning with the possibilities.
What did that mean? Was he gay now or bi? And if he was, what would happen if his ex found out? He knew she’d use it against him somehow to extort more money from him. Worse yet, she might keep his daughter away from him. His heart stopped at the mere thought of it.
No, whatever had happened, whatever was going to happen, he probably shouldn’t encourage it to continue. He needed to keep it just business and pretend it never had happened.
But still, long after his daughter had gone to bed in her bedroom, he found himself staring up at the ceiling then out the window in his own bed, thinking about Chris.
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CHAPTER 14
As he approached him on the basketball court, Chris had no idea how close Mason had come to cancelling the next morning’s session.
“Hey, morning,” Mason said, acting casual.
“Good morning,” Chris said, working up a smile.
“How’d you sleep?” Mason said, making no eye contact as he turned a medicine ball around in his hands.
“Good, good ...” Chris said, anxiously wondering if he would ever look up, and if he would acknowledge that something happened between them, or, if worse yet, that they had made a mistake.
“So, I thought we’d do something a little different today,” Mason said briskly. “Tossing the medicine ball back and forth is a great way to get that core strong.”
“Sure, sounds great,” Chris said, sounding distracted. Incredible feelings of hurt were beginning to sting in Chris’ chest. Even if things weren’t sexual yesterday, he still thought that at least they had made a strong connection as friends: Mason was acting as detached as a dentist or an airline employee.
“So, catch,” Mason said, tossing him the ball. Chris almost lost his balance, but caught it and spun, the strain and effort snapping him out of his trance.
“So...I don’t even want to mention her name...but I see about your ex,” Chris said, cracking a smile.
“Oh, my God. I was so embarrassed, man,” Mason said. “Now you see why I’m ready to pull my hair out when I’m around her.”
“I’d do worse than that,” Chris said. “I’d probably leap to my death.”
Mason laughed darkly.
“Your ex and my ex ought to get together. What a team they would make,” Chris said.
“Is he that bad?” Mason asked.
“He’s awful, Mason. I don’t like to talk badly about people. It was never a habit before he dumped me, but he’s just so cold and heartless. I can’t believe I didn’t see it in him. We were together for almost four years.”
“Four years, wow. So, if he came to you, apologized, and said he wanted you back, you wouldn’t take him back in?” Mason asked, as if he were testing the waters of what things might look like in Chris’s future.
Chris hesitated just a tad too long for Mason’s taste before he blasted, “No. God, no.”
“Ah, your heart’s still with him. That’s sad if he really is as terrible as you say.”
“What makes you say that?” Chris asked, defensively.
“Just a feeling I get. I’m pretty good at reading people.”
“Yeah?” Chris said. “And what else do you read about me?”
Mason shrugged, tossing the medicine ball back. “I don’t know. That you’re a good guy. That you care about people. I haven’t even read any of your writing, and I can tell you’re an amazing writer. I bet you’ll be a huge success. That you’re smart. I know you said you wanted to have kids one day, and I can tell that you’d make an amazing dad one day if you wanted to.”
“That’s all?” Chris cracked a smile, tossing the medicine ball again. “Jeez, you make me sound amazing.”
“No, it's just...your ex was stupid to dump you, that’s all. And you’re lucky he did, because you deserve better. You’re a real catch.”
The words lingered with Chris, and he felt the tingle of excitement, the warm glow of happiness at Mason’s praise. When he walked over suddenly, his expression changing to one of sober concern, Chris felt panicked. Mason stopped when he was close enough to kiss him, leaning down conspiratorially, with the shadow of his tall frame shielding Chris’ eyes from the bright sun.
“Hey, I’m sorry...” Mason said, stepping up to him. “I can’t keep acting like nothing’s up. It’s weird and disrespectful.”
“What do you mean?” Chris asked, fishing for more.
“I mean, we should probably talk about yesterday,” Mason said in a low tone, as if there were other people around he didn’t want to overhear.
“What about it?” Chris asked, not sure what he was going to say next.
Mason took a deep breath, “I’m not sure, really. You’re a really great guy, Chris and I like hangin’ with you. I like training you and I don’t want that to change.”
Oh, great. I’ve heard this speech before, Chris thought.
“So...” Chris said, fishing for
more information.
“It’s just...I've never...I’ve never done anything like with a guy before, and...”
“No, I understand,” Chris cut him off.
“And it’s just my daughter. If we ever did anything and my ex found out, she could...”
“No, you’re right, we should...we shouldn’t even go there.”
Mason paused for a second, trying to read Chris’ feelings, “You’re...are you cool with that? I mean, like I said, you’re a really amazing dude, and maybe if things were different, something could happen. I really like you Chris, and that massage was pretty hot. I mean I actually got super hard, which was a first.”
“Look, you don’t need to explain yourself,” Chris said, backing off. “If you want to cool it, we’ll cool it. We can still train and hang, and we don’t even need to hang really.”
“No, that’s not what I mean,” Mason asked, his face looking quizzical and confused.
“Yeah, I get it. Let’s just keep training. I’ve got a bunch of work to do, and I have to cut it kind of short today.”
Mason felt a little taken aback. This wasn’t what he expected; the terseness of Chris’ tone hit him like a slap in the face, and he was starting to regret saying what he did. But Chris just hurled the medicine ball and resumed his training. Was it just Mason’s imagination, or was he being extra aggressive? They continued training, not talking much between each of the repetitions or sets. All business, just like Mason said he wanted.
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CHAPTER 15
Chris threw himself into his novel the rest of that day with gusto. He ate a healthy lunch of red beans and brown rice with a fresh mango, but he felt blocked whenever he sat down to work. He couldn’t stop thinking about Mason. So he turned on the TV, then the DVD player, trying to watch some movies for inspiration, but mostly to drown the thoughts in his head. But nothing was working. The truth was, he felt like crying. His nose stung and his eyes burned. This was so stupid to be upset about this, he told himself.