Gathering Storm

by Alexa Land

He did just that for the next few minutes, using his fingers and lips and tongue on my skin. A lot of time was spent on my nipples, which he caressed, then tugged and rolled between his fingertips until they were hard. He sucked them experimentally, then asked, “Does that feel good?” as he looked up at me.

  I nodded. “They’re really sensitive. I feel it in my cock when you play with them, as if they’re all wired together.”

  At the mention of my cock, Brian’s hand strayed below my waistband for the first time, lightly skimming my shaft through the fabric of my cotton sleep pants. I’d been rock hard since he tied me up, and his touch brought out a soft moan, my eyes sliding shut.

  He went in for another light pass, and then another, as if gradually acclimating himself to handling another man’s cock. I murmured, “If you want to flip around, I’ll suck you while you play with me.”

  “I’m supposed to be the one setting the pace, remember?” he said with a smile.

  “I know. I just thought I’d make you feel good while you’re on your little expedition.”

  “You are making me feel good.” His hand came to a stop on my cock, his fingers gently wrapping around it through my clothing. I tried to fight the urge to buck into his hand, and failed. “Do you like what I’m doing?” he asked, and I nodded.

  Brian began jerking me off, right through the fabric, his brows knit in concentration at first. But eventually he relaxed and found a good rhythm, and I joked, “You’re a natural.”

  “I’ve been in an exclusive relationship with my left hand for the past few years. If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s this.”

  I chuckled at that, rocking up into his hand slightly, trying to gain a bit more friction. “Practice makes perfect,” I said, my breath coming faster as he stroked me. “You lose points for the cootie shield though.” He raised an eyebrow at me, and I flashed him a big smile.

  “Even in the midst of a hand job, you’re still a smartass.”

  “I offered you a way to shut me up. You declined.”

  Brian laughed at that, then rolled onto his side and sat up. He grabbed the cuffs of my pants and yanked them right off me, leaving me naked from the waist down. I gasped in surprise.

  Using my precum as lube, he took hold of my cock and began to jerk me off in earnest. I moaned and bit my lower lip as he picked up his pace. His strokes were hard, demanding. Absolutely perfect. “Oh, fuck yes,” I murmured. He flung his thigh across both of mine, pinning me down, and that spiked my arousal. “If you keep this up, you’re going to make me cum,” I told him as he worked me.

  He chuckled at that. “Uh, yeah. That’s kind of the idea.”

  Brian took hold of the hem of my t-shirt and pulled it up over my head, so that it was stretched behind my neck. I raised my head up and watched as the palm of his big hand swiped over the tip of my cock for more precum, then grasped me again and stroked me. His expression was one of sheer determination, and I probably would have teased him about that, if I’d been able to form words right then. Instead, I fell back against the sheets, moaning.

  He pumped me rapidly, and finally drove me over the edge by leaning down and biting my nipple. I cried out and arched off the futon, thrusting into his hand as my orgasm tore from my body. It had been days since I’d cum, and I shot huge bursts all across my stomach and chest, some of it even hitting my lips and chin. He milked me right through to the end of my orgasm, gradually slowing his pace, bringing me back down.

  When he finally released my cock, I was panting and shaking. After a few moments, I raised my lids and took a look at Brian. He was leaning against the wall with one arm draped across his lap, probably to disguise his very big, very obvious erection. He ran his eyes up the length of me slowly with a satisfied smile, and when we made eye contact I grinned and said, “Welcome to the pink side.”

  Brian threw his head back and roared with laughter. “You really are the most irreverent person I’ve ever met,” he told me once he could speak again.

  He began glancing around us, and I asked, “What are you looking for?”

  “Something to clean you up with.”

  “I can just clean up in the bathroom.”

  “Nope. Then I’d have to untie you, and I have no intention of doing that.”

  I relaxed and smiled at him. “Oh? You’re planning to keep me like this?”

  “Yup, right up until the moment you tell me you’ve had enough.” He looked at me closely. “Have you had enough?”

  “Nope.”

  “Good. Me neither.” Brian ended up retrieving his discarded flannel shirt from the floor and using that to wipe me clean. He tossed it back where he’d found it when he was finished and settled in right beside me, sharing the same pillow. When I turned my head toward him, he looked at my mouth and grinned, then ran his index finger over my lower lip before sliding it between my lips. When I sucked it, I realized he’d fed me a missed drop of my own cum. A little purr escaped me and I sucked harder, turned on by how unexpectedly erotic that was. “God you’re sexy,” he murmured, watching my mouth intently.

  When he finally slid his finger from my lips I said, “Well, aren’t you just the total revelation.”

  “How so?”

  “For your first time with a guy, you’re really surprising me. I wouldn’t have guessed you’d be so bold and confident.”

  “It feels good to experiment with you.”

  “Is that what you’re doing? Experimenting?”

  “Not really. I’m giving in to primal lust. The experimentation is secondary.”

  “Before you keel over from terminal blue balls, maybe you should experiment with putting your cock in my mouth,” I suggested. His erection poked into my thigh, even though he was trying to angle his body partially away from me.

  “Let’s just pace ourselves, okay? There’s no hurry.”

  “Other than the aforementioned death by blue balls.” He chuckled at that, and I added, “Plus, you have to admit that shutting me up must hold a certain appeal.”

  He scooped me into his arms and cradled me against his chest, my arms still bound above my head. “Just relax, Hunter. I can head off certain death later, when I’m alone in the bathroom.”

  “Now what man on Earth would possibly pass up a blow job in lieu of jerking off?”

  “A man who thinks you need a night that’s just about you, considering all you’ve been going through. Just let me take care of you.”

  I knit my brows at that, but finally said, “Well, the offer stands if you change your mind.”

  “Noted.” I kissed his cheek, then settled comfortably in his arms. After a while, he ventured, “So, how deep does this bondage thing run with you?”

  “I’m not entirely sure. I’ve never really explored it in my private life, since as I said, I wouldn’t let random strangers tie me up.”

  “Is this what you and your ex used to do?”

  “No, never. Cole was very closed off, sexually speaking. He hid behind a wall of vanilla. I learned I liked bondage when I first started making adult films. It feels good…it feels right, somehow.”

  “It doesn’t scare you? The helpless aspect of it, I mean.”

  “When I’m tied up on set, there are at least half a dozen people in the room. Because it’s supervised, I know it’s not going to go too far, that I’m not going to get hurt. And right now, I know I’m safe with you.”

  “Why do you put so much faith in me?”

  “Just look at the way you’re holding me,” I said. He was curled around me like armor, cradling me carefully. “You’re all about protecting me, keeping me safe. You wouldn’t then turn around and hurt me.”

  “You’re right, I wouldn’t,” he said, then kissed the top of my head. “Not intentionally, anyway, and certainly not in this context.”

  “You think you’d hurt me unintentionally?”

  “I know I will.”

  “How?”

  He considered that for a moment, then reached up and tugge
d on the belt, freeing my wrists. I put my arms around him as he said, “I’m not proud of the fact that I take my anger out on those closest to me. I’ve been treating Kieran like shit ever since I got home from Afghanistan, and I hate that about myself. I might do the same to you if we got involved.”

  “We’re already involved,” I pointed out, nestling against him. “And unlike Kieran, who’s one of the nicest people on the planet, I’ll call you on it if you try to vent your frustrations on me. I’m really not afraid to tell you when you’re being a dick.”

  He chuckled and said, “I believe that.”

  After a while, I ventured quietly, “I want to understand what was going on with you the day your brother brought Christopher home for the first time. How could you say those things to Kieran? How could you call him a faggot?”

  “I don’t want to try to justify it. I was a total asshole, and I feel really guilty about it.”

  “So, don’t justify it. Just tell me what was going on with you,” I said, reaching up and brushing his long, dark hair back from his face. “You already told me you resented Christopher for taking your brother away from you, but that can’t be the whole explanation.”

  “It’s not.” Brian sighed quietly, and said, “I guess…I guess I resented both of them. I resented the hell out of my brother for going out and falling in love with a man. I mean, why should he be able to do that, when I—” He cut himself off abruptly.

  “When you didn’t feel you could?” I guessed.

  He nodded, then rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. After a while, he said, “You’re not the first man I’ve been drawn to. There was one other, and I gave him up, thinking he and I could never really be together. I thought my father and the rest of my family would disown me. I was so afraid of people finding out I was gay, afraid of what they’d think of me, that I let him go.”

  He continued, “I was so angry when Kieran brought a guy home. Why should he be able to have that, when I couldn’t? I gave up someone who meant everything to me, and here was my brother, brazenly flaunting his newfound sexuality, not caring who knew. If I couldn’t have Anthony, why the fuck should he get to have Christopher?”

  Brian sighed and said, “I reacted like a schoolyard bully. I yelled at him and called him names, because I was so fucking jealous. I was pissed, too. I mean, here was my kid brother, showing me up, showing me he was twice the man I’ll ever be by being brave and honest and open, by not trying to hide his relationship. I hated myself so fucking much when I saw the two of them together, and I took it out on my brother, just like I always took everything out on him.”

  “I think I get it,” I said quietly.

  “Like I said, in no way am I trying to excuse my actions. I was hateful, and hurtful,” he said. “Earlier today, while you were doing your self-defense lesson, I tried to explain some of this to Kieran. I also tried to apologize. It’s hard to talk to him, we both get really defensive. But I hope he at least heard the ‘I’m sorry’ in my botched explanation.”

  “Where’s Anthony now?”

  “He’s dead. And it’s my fault.”

  “How could it be your fault?”

  “Anthony was a soldier like I was, we met in Afghanistan. He wasn’t exactly out and proud either, it’s so hard to be openly gay in that kind of environment. He wanted to give our relationship a chance, though. He was coming to the end of his term, and asked me to move to Boston with him after my stint ended, so we could be together. But even as much as I wanted him, I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t imagine being openly gay, to me it had always been this big secret, and I felt like I had to keep it that way. I was afraid, that was the bottom line. So, I broke up with him, and he ended up re-enlisting instead of going home to Boston. He was killed in the line of duty, four days after the start of his second tour.”

  “And you think you’re somehow to blame for his death?”

  Brian turned his head to look at me, his eyes tormented and his voice tight as he said, “Of course. If I’d agreed to move in with him, Anthony would have been apartment hunting in Boston, not patrolling that street in Sangin. That bullet never would have found him.” He turned back to the ceiling.

  I picked up his hand and laced my fingers with his, sliding a bit closer. “Aren’t you going to argue with me?” he asked after a while. “Aren’t you going to tell me I’m wrong to feel this way? That’s what my therapist always did when I tried to talk about Anthony’s death.”

  “His death wasn’t your fault, but hearing that from me won’t change how you feel. You need to learn to believe it for yourself.” I put my free hand on his chest, and added, “In here.” He nodded, and kept staring at the ceiling. After a while, I asked, “So, you weren’t willing to out yourself with that relationship, but you’re not exactly trying to keep whatever’s happening between us private. Why is that?”

  “I like to think I’m not totally hopeless, that I have the ability to learn from my mistakes. When Anthony died, it devastated me. I mourned him for years. And as I mourned, I kept thinking about the last thing he said to me, which was, ‘I hope you’re not going to go through your entire life as a fucking coward.’ He was so pissed that I broke up with him.” Brian rolled onto his side, facing me, our intertwined hands between us. “I hear that in my head all the time now. I’ve internalized it to the point where I’m forever telling myself, ‘Don’t be a fucking coward.’ So, even though I honestly believe I have too many issues to really get involved with you, I’m still going to let myself touch you and kiss you and hold you, for as long as you’ll let me, and I’m not going to be secretive about it. Because keeping it secret is what a fucking coward would do.”

  “So, all this time,” I said, “I’d assumed you’d never been with a man. I really thought what you did for me a few minutes ago was a first for you.”

  “Oh, it was. Anthony and I, we never, um…consummated our relationship.”

  “Wait a minute. You were involved enough that he asked you to move in with him, but you never slept together?”

  “There are all kinds of ways to be intimate with someone, Hunter. What you and I are doing right now for example, me opening up to you like this, is a form of intimacy. My relationship with Anthony was intimate as hell without being sexual.”

  “Well, okay. I still don’t get why you never slept together, though.”

  “During the five months that he and I were involved, I was fighting my attraction to Anthony tooth and nail. I had such a hard time accepting my sexuality. From the time I was four, my father drilled the idea into me that it was wrong to be gay, that it was shameful somehow. I felt that I couldn’t give in to it, that I had to push down those feelings and pretend they didn’t exist.” After a few moments, he said, “I couldn’t deny the fact that I loved him, though, and he loved me, too. But even still, our relationship wasn’t physical, because I couldn’t let it be. We’d kiss, and twice, I let him suck me because I was just too consumed with lust to stop it from happening, but that’s it.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “I fully realize how unfair I was, both to Anthony and to myself, and how right he was to call me a coward. But all I can do now is learn from it, I guess, and not make the same mistakes over again.”

  Chapter Eight

  The next morning during breakfast, I announced, “I’m going to my production company today for a meeting with my manager. I want to brainstorm ideas for a publicity stunt that might draw my stalker out of the woodwork.”

  Everyone stopped eating and looked at me, and Christopher said, “I still think you shouldn’t purposefully try to make this person come after you, Hunter. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I appreciate your concern,” I said, “I really do. But like I said yesterday, this has to end. This man needs to be in jail, and this might be the best shot at putting him there.”

  Brian frowned at me. “I hate this idea.”

  I turned to Christopher and asked, “Can I borrow a change of clot
hes? What little I brought from my apartment is in my locker at the gym.”

  “Of course, help yourself to whatever you want,” he told me.

  “Thanks.” To Brian I said, “You can skip the bodyguard duty and wait here at the apartment. I’m just going to take cabs there and back.”

  “You’re kind of missing the point of having a ‘bodyguard.’ Be sure to picture the air quotes that accompany that word, by the way,” Brian said before taking a sip of coffee. I glanced at him, then bit my lip and focused my attention on the mug in my hands. “So, why don’t you want me along?” he asked.

  “Well, the lobby of Man-on-Man Productions is kind of…I mean, it’s just not….” I stammered.

  “What’s in the lobby? Posters of your films?” he asked, and I nodded. “And you don’t want me to see them?” I nodded again, still looking at the cup. “I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”

  “I know that. It’s just—”

  “They aren’t going to change my opinion of you, Hunter,” he said gently. “Besides, you already told me about the type of movies you make, I know what to expect.”

  “But also, my manager tends to be really long-winded. You’d probably be sitting around for a good hour….”

  “I’m coming with you.” When I didn’t say anything, he added, “I’ll accompany you to the offices, and then I’ll go find something to do in the neighborhood during your meeting. Text me when you’re done and I’ll meet you in the lobby. This is important, Hunter,” he said. “Your stalker has hand-delivered letters to this place. No way do I want you going in by yourself.”

  He had a point. “Well, okay. Just…don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Man-on-Man Productions occupied an entire converted warehouse in San Francisco’s South-of-Market district. This particular corner of SOMA was still trying to decide if it was upscale or sleazy, a few reputable businesses elbow-to-elbow with a strip club, and of course, my employer.

  From the outside at least, the production company didn’t look like much of anything, a small sign on the door announcing it only as Bryer Enterprises. The sleaze factor didn’t really kick in until you stepped inside the door. I had never given much thought to the posters lining the walls of the spacious, high-ceilinged lobby, but I looked at them closely this time as I held the door for Brian. I was featured in more than half of them. They were mostly reproductions of DVD covers, but a few were publicity stills. I was naked in all of them, though, as my manager liked to put it, ‘tastefully nude.’ In other words, my junk wasn’t actually on display. My ass was another story.