RHV

by DHP

  He couldn’t let her down. And if Cara blew the whistle on Logan, she’d blow the whistle on Sassy, too.

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Sassy and Cara approached then. After a quick hug goodbye, Cara glanced at Logan. A week ago, she would’ve probably had a hard time saying farewell to Logan. They were friends. At the moment, she was expressionless, stone cold.

  “Take care, Mama,” Logan said.

  “You’re the one who needs to take care,” Cara said, boarding Scott’s bike. “Be careful, Sassy.”

  She wrapped her arms around Scott’s waist and jerked her thin limbs upward, securing her grip. “You gonna sit here all day and ogle Logan or are we going somewhere?”

  Revisiting their first night together, he patted her hand, nodded at Logan as if to let him know he’d take care of the club’s sheep and Logan’s little problem. “Cara, darling, we are most definitely going somewhere.” He laid his heel to the kickstand and balanced his motorcycle underneath them. “And I have a feeling it’s going to be one hell of a ride.”

  GENEROUS RECEPTION

  TAVISH LEE

  I let myself into Scott’s apartment just as he returned from the gym. He’d been working out in the swimming pool, to judge by the way his black hair hung, slightly damp, down to his broad shoulders. He raked his fingers through it as he greeted me cheerfully, but his bright blue eyes grew serious when they settled on my face. “So, you told her?”

  “Well,” I stammered, “Actually I didn’t. I tried to, I promise—but I chickened out at the last minute.”

  “Again?” With a frustrated sigh, Scott tossed the towel on the sofa. “Damn it, Daniel, the wedding’s in less than two weeks! Are you planning to do it when she and Bruce are at the altar and notice we’re holding hands in the front row? Besides, we both know your mother’s not melodramatic enough to disown you or anything like that…and on Valentine’s Day, no less.”

  “I know you’re right. I just...” I let it trail off as I dropped down on his sofa. He joined me there, and I slid my hand over, caressing his thigh through his heather-gray sweatpants. It was the sexiest gesture I could muster in my beleaguered state.

  “She probably suspects anyway,” Scott continued. “You just have to spell it out.”

  “Yeah.” I had to admit, he was probably right about that one. In the ten years since my philandering father had deserted the family, I had grown pretty close to Mom and my sister Allison, now sixteen. Both of them knew very well that none of the women in my life had been more than platonic friends. In fact, I had recently attended the wedding of my Senior Prom date from high school. What they didn’t know was that I’d taken Scott along as my date, and that I planned to do the same when Mom remarried in a lavishly romantic Valentine’s Day ceremony, now only twelve days away. So far, I’d managed to put her off about adding someone’s name to the guest list. But there was no doubt that the time for me to come out was coming up real fast.

  The problem wasn’t Mom or Allison, whose sly smiles whenever Scott came to the house had convinced me that she already knew and perhaps even approved. No, the real stumbling block was Bruce, my mother’s fiancé. From what I could see, he treated her well, and his position as manager at an auto dealership would enable him to support her comfortably. Three months earlier, when they’d first announced their decision to get married, I’d actually planned to drop the bomb on them one night after dinner. On my way to the dining room, I spotted Bruce in the den. He was watching baseball, and his favorite team was losing. As I passed within earshot, he began to complain loudly. “Come on, you assholes!” he shouted at the TV screen. “You’re playing like a bunch of faggots! Haven’t you got any balls?” I’d walked away with a burning feeling in my gut. Though the last thing I wanted was a homophobic jerk for a stepfather, I wasn’t sure I could bring myself to jeopardize Mom’s happiness by telling him.

  Seeing my troubled look, Scott softened. He gently laid his open palm atop my head. “Look, I didn’t mean to pressure you. I know it’s your mom’s wedding. When the time’s right, you’ll tell her.”

  In spite of my gloom, I smiled as he began to massage my scalp. “It’s easy for you. Your folks practically founded their own P-Flag Chapter.”

  He laughed softly, the sound of his voice turning me on all over again. “Yeah, but even total acceptance has its downside. How many Rod McKuen books does one household need, anyway?”

  Forsaking the towel, I reached out and skimmed my fingers along the hard plane of his torso. His skin was still damp and warm from the pool. In return, he bent down and gave me a strong, fresh kiss. I probed deeper into his mouth with the tip of my tongue, and he responded by clambering onto the couch and straddling my thighs.

  Scott whisked my baggy tank top off, then reached for the button at the top of my cutoffs. I kicked off my sneakers, then hooked my thumbs around his sweats and peeled them down around his golden thighs. He was already hard, too, his blossoming erection swaying between his legs like a ruddy sapling in a summer gale. He reached over and smoothly extracted a condom from his wallet, which lay on the coffee table at my elbow. A moment later, safely encased, he shifted closer. His cock pointed straight at my lips.

  “I’ve been waiting for you all day,” he said in a hoarse voice.

  “Me, too,” I murmured, half-closing my eyes as hot waves of desire swept over me.

  “Go for it, then.” Placing both hands on my shoulders, Scott arched his back deeply. I slid my hand around his plump base, using my forefinger and thumb as a cockring. I squeezed a little, making him squirm. Then I took a deep breath, closed my eyes all the way, and dove down on him.

  I had always wanted to deep-throat Scott, to ingest him so completely there would be nothing between our merging bodies—not even air or a trickle of sweat. Still, no matter how hard I tried, I had never been able to do it. Whether it was his impressive size, our inexpert technique, or my own latent inhibitions, I couldn’t tell. Still, as usual, when his rubber-sealed rod ventured further downward, I eased back so that only the plump tip remained wedged between the tight circle of my lips. I applied what pressure I could, employing both my tongue and the roof of my mouth, but used my hand to jerk him to climax. The tip of the condom ballooned into my mouth as he shoved his hips harder and harder against my upper body, his balls slapping my chin as he shot. I groaned, too, when he finally went limp and collapsed onto my lap.

  “That was great,” he said, then sank to his knees and deftly swapped the rest of my clothing for a second condom. As I lifted my buttocks so he could pull down my undershorts, he slipped one hand between my thighs and the cushions. He nuzzled his fingers deep into my crack while his mouth got to work on my rubber-clad cock. His free hand settled around his own resurgent boner, which he began to pump with abandon.

  Scott always knew how to get right down to what pleasured me. He licked his way over my rigid staff three or four times, working his way all the way up to my covered, swelling pinnacle and then pivoting to start back down again. To sweeten the delicious torment, he alternately opened and closed his perfect teeth around the throbbing condom. My hips began to jerk back and forth on the sofa, a tumultuous orgasm setting off fireworks inside me as the point of his tongue trifled with my sensitive crown and his hand manipulated the flesh around my pucker.

  I began to spear his throat harder, my balls imprinting his chin. He inhaled my musky scent, flavored by latex and clean masculine sweat, with obvious elation. My fingers raked through his dark hair as he blew me, curving his cheeks inward to intensify the sucking sensation. A moment later, my balls began to tremble against his lower lip and my cock jumped to life in his mouth.

  A breathtaking climax roared through me, forcing my hips up and filling Scott’s face with the distended rubber as I blasted my need into it again and again. Though I was soon plunged in an inferno of passion, my thoughts remained lucid, and I finally saw my whole situation in perfect focus.

 
I had been extraordinarily lucky to find this guy, I knew. How could I ever be embarrassed to show him off to my family and friends? If Bruce couldn’t accept me as I was, my mother would just have to choose which of us she would stand behind. As I clutched Scott’s head to my heaving stomach, I made a decision. I was going to tell them tomorrow night.

  The next evening, Mom, Bruce, Allison and I sat around the dinner table, chatting about the wedding. I looked so pale and withdrawn that my mother had twice asked me if I were coming down with a cold.

  “I need a head count for the caterer by the end of this week,” Mom was saying, and I felt my throat constrict as the inevitable subject once again loomed over me. “I wish people would be more prompt about RSVPing.” Suddenly, as I knew she would, she turned her head and looked straight at me. “And we still don’t know who you’re bringing, Daniel.”

  I seized my water glass and took a long swallow to buy myself some time. My palms were sweating so profusely the tumbler almost slipped through my fingers. Her next words almost made me choke.

  “You know, Daniel, you don’t have to pretend anymore,” Mom said with a knowing smile. “I know what the problem is about the date.”

  The back of my neck broke out in a clammy sweat. My mind whirled. Had I been putting myself through hell for nothing? Had she and Bruce both known all along? I struggled for words, but she went on without noticing my bewilderment.

  “You haven’t found a girl to ask yet,” she asserted, pleased to have solved yet another pressing domestic mystery. “I know how disappointed you were when Sarah got married last year, though you hid it very well. Well, your problem is solved. My friend Marian is bringing her daughter, Julie. She’s very intelligent—you two should have plenty to talk about.” She winked. “Nothing like a little Valentine’s Day magic at a wedding, right?”

  I took a deep breath. “Mom,” I replied in a steady voice, “I’m not taking Julie to the wedding.”

  “Oh, at least give it a chance. You don’t have to tell anyone that Marian and I arranged it.”

  I set my glass down a bit too emphatically. “No, no. You don’t understand. I’m trying to tell you that I don’t need a date. I’m planning to bring Scott.”

  Mom arched her eyebrows, like she still couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about. Bruce’s face was a complete blank. “Of course Scott is invited. He’s your friend. And if he wants to bring someone, that’s fine too. You just have to let me know so I can give the caterer an exact number. I told you, they’re very particular about that.”

  I took a deep breath. This was it. No getting out of it now. “Mom, that’s not it. Scott’s...Scott’s going to be my date.”

  There was dead silence, except for the clack of Allison’s spoon in her dessert dish. She seemed to be smirking to herself.

  “He’s my lover,” I went on, plunging ahead wildly, hoping they wouldn’t see how terrified I really was. “He wanted me to move in with him when he took that apartment downtown, but I didn’t quite dare. Come on, Mom...you can’t tell me it’s never occurred to you before.”

  My mother stared at me. “Well, I don’t know.” Her cheeks flushed, ever so slightly. “I suppose it has...but I didn’t dwell on it too much.”

  “It sure occurred to me,” Allison piped up. “A guy with pecs like Scott’s and no girlfriend...? Come on!”

  “Thank you, Allison,” Mom said hastily, without glancing back. “I guess what I should really ask you, Daniel, is whether you’re happy...this way. Is Scott good to you? And are you...you know...safe?”

  Finally, I began to feel that my feet had found solid ground again. I nodded with growing confidence. “Yes, totally. We know how to protect ourselves, so you don’t need to worry.” After a lengthy pause, I became bolder. “So, I can bring him?”

  For the first time, Mom took her eyes off mine. And she turned towards Bruce. “What do you think, Bruce?”

  “Let him, Bruce,” said Allison.

  Bruce’s face had hardened into a pinched mask. I couldn’t tell if he was angry or just shocked. “I don’t know,” he said numbly. “You two might have been expecting this, but I wasn’t. I’ll have to think about it.” He stood, wiped his mouth with his napkin, and walked slowly out of the room. To my mother’s credit, she didn’t rush after him. Instead, she put her hand over mine and squeezed it.

  “You can bring him. I’ll talk to Bruce later.”

  I got up. “I’ll stay over at Scott’s tonight. I guess things’ll go easier for you and Bruce if I’m not here.”

  She didn’t object, although I sensed that she wanted me to stay a bit longer. At that point, though, I was too wired to sit still for a philosophical discussion. I rushed to my car and drove to Scott’s in a white heat of excitement. By the time I pulled up, my hard-on was literally threatening to break through my jeans.

  As soon as he opened the door, he saw by my expression that I had at last made my move. He leaned in the threshold, grinning.

  “I did it,” I blurted. “I couldn’t stop myself. My mom was carrying on about Valentine’s Day magic or some such bullshit, and I just lost it and let it all out. They know about us now. Even Bruce.”

  Scott’s smile never faltered. “Feels great to be out, doesn’t it?”

  I reached out and crushed his body against mine, my starved lips clamping down on his. I had never felt so free, and Scott’s pulsating body had never felt so right against mine. Hastily I steered him into his bedroom.

  Scott lay back on the bed, his eyes widening with pleasure, as I reached for the nightstand drawer. Clutching one of our precious foil packets in my left hand, I knelt between his legs and wrested his belt open.

  His anxious cock, so engorged with desire that it blazed ruby-red at the tip, burst through his open fly. It shivered in anticipation, sticking straight up at the ceiling as I hastily covered it with the rubber.

  Scott whispered throaty encouragements while I snatched off his jockeys and shirt and threw both to the floor. His body blushing with want, Scott hooked his left hand around my shoulders and urged me down on him with an impatient groan.

  I set to him with everything I had, pressing my face into the damp forest of his pubic hair and milking him hard. Saliva and sweat streamed down the sides of the rubber to collect in the juncture of his thighs and groin. As I began to lose myself in his fervent excitement, a wondrous thing happened. I felt his cock slide forward, forward in my mouth until the very roots of his pubic curls were lying flush against my lips. When I realized what had happened, I almost opened them in surprise. I had done it, at last! Scott’s cock was fully inside me.

  “All right,” was the only sentiment he could murmur as, quietly rejoicing, he began to fuck my face in earnest. I accepted his thrusts with relish, my fingers sliding downward to curve around his balls. They contracted in his tense pouch as he rapidly approached the finish line, and, in response, I bore down even harder. Scott bellowed in total abandon as he exploded into the latex sheath. I steadied his bucking body by wrapping both arms around his heaving middle as the orgasm racked through him, but my mouth stayed deliciously locked over him the whole time.

  “You’ve never done it like that,” he panted when it was over. His body felt drained, but his face looked blissfully happy. “Is this some of that Valentine’s Day magic you mentioned before?”

  “No going back,” I said, pressing the side of my face into his sweat-slicked neck. “This is just the beginning.”

  ****

  With the actual announcement behind me, I played it cool and let my family get caught up in the welcome diversion of their intense preparations for the big event. No one mentioned Scott, but his name duly appeared on the guest list a few days later.

  Bruce was cordial, but distant to me until the day of the wedding. He went through the ceremony, which was admittedly lovely with red and white decorations and a spirit of love almost palpably drifting through the air, with eyes only for my mother. H
owever, his relatives blatantly stared at Scott and me. I knew Bruce had told them, but they didn’t dare to do more than intermittently lean together and whisper. Scott and I played it cool, not even touching hands during the most moving parts of the vows.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Allison whispered to me when she, too, noticed their behavior. “They all live out of state.”

  Finally, as we gathered at the entrance to the reception hall, my new stepfather pulled me aside. Scott, who had been walking ahead of me in conversation with Allison, shot me a supportive glance and left us alone.

  Bruce looked uncomfortable as he cleared his throat and straightened the cuffs of his tux. “Look, Daniel,” he began cautiously, “I’ve never really known any...you know...fellows like you. When and where I grew up, it just wasn’t talked about. I only knew the stereotypes, and I guess I went along with them without thinking. But I know times have changed, and people have to be more liberal now, like it or not.”

  “Bruce, I—”

  He held up a hand and hurried on, clearly eager to get through this. “You’re a grown man, so you’re free to do what you want. And as long as you’re good to your mother, I won’t interfere.”

  “And as long as you’re good to her,” I said.

  “I’ll do whatever it takes to make her happy. So...thanks for coming today, and giving us your approval. You can tell Scott the same.”

  He shook my hand, in a hasty, embarrassed sort of way, then moved on to the relative safety of the more traditional guests’ congratulations. I paused to kiss my mother on the cheek when she, too, drifted by, and she hugged me back. Then I joined Scott and Allison and the three of us walked to our table.

  “I was just telling Scott that maybe you two guys will be next,” Allison kidded. “It’s legal these days, after all.”

  Openly, proudly, I took my boyfriend’s hand. “Well, you never know,” I conceded. “That Valentine’s Day magic can be unpredictable.”