Harden stiffened. “Let… let you what?”
“Let me give you a little relief.”
“What do you mean?”
“Remember in the kitchen in Streamwood? Remember, Harden?”
“But Andy….”
Andy slumped before Harden, abandoning any iota of coordination or reserve. His head, sloping and seemingly without a neck to hold it upright, fell onto Harden’s lap.
“Andrew…. Why?”
Andy moved his arms closer to Harden’s sides and held onto him. “Let me. Please, Harden. Let me. We both knew it was coming to this. Let me please you. It’s what you need. What you want.”
Andy glanced up, but only for an instant, so that he might discern Harden’s liquid blue eyes and the truth stirring behind them. Firm and inert, Harden stared off where wall and carpet met, far from the portrait of he and Lillian. His lips, moist and drooping, quivered. His ultimate response—a relinquishing of breath.
Using the gentlest of movements, a butterfly’s wings folding, Andy nudged his hands closer toward Harden’s lap. “Let me give you relief tonight, Harden. Let me please you the way you deserve.”
He half expected Harden to brush his hand aside and rush horrified from the room. But he did not. Andy, his heart pounding and his fingers trembling, undid the first of what seemed an endless row of buttons on Harden’s fly. One by one, he unfastened them, until the glow of Harden’s light-blue boxers appeared, and Andy, catching the first scent of Harden, swooned in a near stupor of his heart’s pounding and quickening blood.
Chapter 21
THE scent of Harden’s pheromones and cologne came heavier once Andy unfastened the last of the buttons. Andy wanted to believe maybe Harden had sprayed himself down there, not out of habit before an elaborate evening, but knowing—or hoping—Andy might ask to relieve him that night. Perhaps Harden had sent the kids away for more than one purpose too?
Driven by daring and passion, Andy reached inside Harden’s boxers and gripped him. Harden let go a groan, and his head drooped forward. The heat of his thick sex, pulsating with blood, sent Andy’s heart into a tailspin. He squeezed harder, gauging Harden’s expression as he stiffened. Save for a slight shudder that worked through his limbs, Harden no longer budged. He kept his eyes shut and his hands curled around the edge of the bed.
Andy peeled back the elastic waistband and slowly freed Harden’s semierection, exposing him to the full light. Exactly how Andy had fantasized. Without thinking, he licked the head. He glanced up after his tongue’s initial swipe. Harden’s lower lip had fallen open, and his eyelids quivered. Determined, Andy massaged Harden, forcing more blood flow. Then he positioned his lips over the tip and swallowed him.
Harden’s right leg kicked out. Moans came more erratically. Hot breath from his nostrils shot over Andy’s neck. Harden clutched the bedcovers, mumbled something, whimpered. Andy’s mind spun with disbelief as Harden grew more turgid.
Smells of spicy cologne and pheromones prodded him to work his tongue and lips firmer. He relished the feel of Harden’s golden tufts of pubic hair tickling his chin and nose. He focused on Harden as if nothing else mattered, until Harden suddenly stood and flopped from his mouth.
Andy feared he’d had enough. But Harden remained standing, his stiff sex pointing inches from Andy’s face. Rolling his shirt higher, Harden gripped himself and aimed his pulsating head closer to Andy’s mouth.
Without hesitation, Andy devoured him again. He rolled his eyeballs upward, delighting in Harden’s reaction. Harden squeezed his eyes shut, and his nostrils flared. Subtle lines pulled the sides of his tightening lips. His robust jowl muscles tensed. He had the look of sheer helplessness. Lost, confused. Yet his feet remained stationary and his arms taut by his sides.
And then the moment Andy had savored whenever he’d given oral to a straight man. Harden stripped off his shirt entirely and placed a hand behind Andy’s head, holding him steady.
“You shouldn’t be doing this,” Harden whispered from deep within his throat. “But don’t stop. Don’t stop, buddy. Take it all.”
Andy held his hips and swallowed him until his lips pressed against his pelvis, moist with fragrant perspiration. Long, shimmering strings of saliva fell onto the carpet before Andy’s knees, and Harden grew thicker and lengthier.
He kept at it, forgetting the choking tears that poured from his eyes. He serviced Harden the way he believed he was due. Harden shuddered. A quivering moan floated from his lips. Bolder now, Harden kept a solid grip on the back of Andy’s head and thrust in and out of Andy’s mouth until Andy gagged and gasped for breath.
Wanting more of him, Andy inched his lips and tongue along Harden’s length and tasted his balls, which had pulled up against his body. Harden’s hands remained firm on the back of Andy’s head while Andy took in his balls one by one and rubbed his wet lips the length of his stiffness. He swallowed him fully again. Harden tossed his head back and grunted.
He fell backward onto the bed, and Andy descended with him, keeping his mouth locked on him. He reached for Harden’s pectoral muscles and cupped the furry mounds in his hands. Harden leaned on one elbow and fixed his hand behind Andy’s head, holding him firm on him and sighing and moaning in rhythm to Andy’s movements.
“Christ,” he groaned. “Feels so good. Why didn’t I ever know? Why didn’t I ever know…?” His words trailed off, and Andy continued to gulp him.
Unable to hold back, Andy unzipped his fly and stroked himself, using Harden’s precome, which came in long, salty strings, as lubricant. He pulled Harden’s jeans and boxers down to his knees, with Harden giving only the slightest inkling of resistance. Andy finally needed air, and he took a respite by roving his face over Harden’s sex, covering himself with Harden’s stickiness and his own warm spit.
Harden sat upright, his legs spread, with Andy’s face poised between them, and gazed deep into Andy’s eyes. Andy froze, waiting. Had Harden come to the endpoint? But Harden surprised Andy by reaching under his arms and pulling his face closer to him. And like that afternoon in Streamwood while Andy had washed dishes at the kitchen sink, Harden kissed him.
Their tongues touching shocked Andy, and he worried he might melt into oblivion. Bubbles seemed to pop around his ears, emitting powerful messages to submit. The slightest sound vanished into a vacuum. Andy’s heart beat more wildly.
They pulled apart long enough to regard each other. Andy trembled violently, but Harden, his hot hands firm under Andy’s arms, held him steady. Harden leaned in and kissed him again, this time more gently. Harden’s lips were electrifying, tasting of wine and his own saltiness. Andy gave in to him then, and allowed his strength to hold him upright so that he would not slip into unconsciousness.
But Harden stopped a second time, pulled back his hands, and looked away. Andy locked his elbows to keep from falling over.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, stunned by the sensation of Harden’s sudden yanking away from him.
Harden glanced out the darkened windowpane where the night beat with a hot pulse. “You kiss and do all that very well. It’s just that….”
“What, Harden? Don’t you trust me?”
“More than anyone I know.”
“Then what is it? You don’t think it’s wrong that I want to make you feel good?”
Andy shifted his eyes to their exposed erections, throbbing and painful, within inches of each other. He admired his former brother-in-law, looked up to him, wanted him more at that moment than any man before. Wished he could be more like him in many ways. Harden’s firm masculinity pumped with indecision, fear, and despair. Andy needed to hold him this time, to erase all his loneliness and dread.
In slow motion, Andy wrapped his arms around him tighter, feeling the warmth of his naked torso. Harden remained mute. Andy felt Harden’s facial muscles tense on his shoulder, and the durability and power of his magnificent jowls. Andy eased his embrace and beheld him, nose to nose. The firmness of his jawline lengthened into a
sharp contrast with his lopping lips. Slowly, Harden met Andy’s eyes. With both hands, he guided Andy’s mouth back to his throbbing sex, and Andy, wanting nothing more, slipped his lips around his impressive girth.
Having forever erased the impenetrable line, Harden moaned and groaned and seemed lost in passion. His grunts came louder, more dauntless. In response, Andy worked his lips over him faster and faster. More tears streamed down his cheeks, and snot ran along his chin, merging with the saliva that coated Harden. He did not care. It was for Harden.
Dizzy from lack of oxygen, Andy lifted his head and breathed. Instantly, Harden pulled him to meet his lips, and he swathed him with more kisses. They fell backward and rolled about the bed, their arms locked around each other, finding their lips with probing tongues.
They kicked off their shoes and socks, yanked off the pants and underwear that had shackled them at the ankles. Harden unbuttoned Andy’s Oxford, tossed it with a devil-may-care flourish into the air.
Naked and pressed against each other, they kissed deeper and harder. Andy rubbed his hands through Harden’s hair, mussing it so he looked even more frenzied and youthful. He moved his tongue along Harden’s chest and stopped to nibble on his quarter-sized nipples. Harden squirmed and yelped and directed his mouth farther down his torso, where Andy left a shimmering kiss trail over his little papa pouch and across the tan line. Harden squeezed his purple hardness so that it stood firmer. Almost trancelike, Andy bobbed up and down on him faster with firmer pursed lips.
“Feels so good,” Harden uttered. “You’re really getting me going. Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this.” But Harden’s strong handhold on the back of Andy’s head stated otherwise. Like a vise, he held Andy on him, rising up and thrusting to meet Andy’s lips.
“I want all of you,” Andy panted between sucking and licking and roving his head over Harden’s sex. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
“You want me inside you?” Harden whispered, keeping a hold on Andy’s head. “Do you?”
Andy said nothing. His body went limp, and he languished between Harden’s legs, dizzy with disbelief and longing. His passion surpassed any remaining inhibition he might have had at that point. Somehow, Andy managed to move his head with one or two nods.
“How do I do it?” Harden said simply.
Wanting to laugh at Harden’s naivety, Andy stood and jogged for the bathroom. He remembered seeing the jar of Vaseline on the counter when he’d dressed in Harden’s swim trunks, but now it was gone. “Do you have any lube?” he asked.
Harden stood beside him, his penis still erect, matting the small hairy pouch below his belly with dapples of precome and Andy’s spit. He opened a few cabinets. “I’m all out. Will suntan lotion do?”
Andy swiped the lotion from the counter, seized Harden by his erection, and guided him to bed. “We should probably use a condom,” he said, desperate to get Harden inside him before Harden changed his mind. “It’s no big deal, but people use them. Not that I don’t trust you.”
“I think I have one or two left.” Harden rolled to his side and reached inside the night table drawer. He pulled out a familiar-looking shiny package and glanced at the back. “Expires next month. I haven’t had much occasion to use any.”
“Perfect timing.” Andy wasted not another minute to grab the package from Harden, rip open the contents, and spread lotion over both of them. Enjoying the pleasure of Harden’s squirming, Andy unrolled the condom onto him. It barely made it past the thickness, but the prophylactic would suffice.
Andy lubed it up and immediately straddled him, allowing his penis head to enter millimeter by millimeter. Harden’s eyes grew wider, his hands loose on Andy’s hips. Andy sat down further, taking his time to allow Harden to enter him fully without the gut-wrenching pain. Harden released a guttural sigh when he broke through. A shock of pleasure and pain ripped along Andy’s spine and shattered his mind. The inevitable release of energy fluttered from his mouth, and he moaned.
“Tell me if I hurt you,” Harden said.
“You can’t hurt me now,” Andy muttered. “Go as hard and deep as you want. Show me what a stud you are.”
Harden gripped Andy’s waist tighter and moved up and down with him. Andy, grunting and groaning, maintained the cadence of Harden’s thrusting. Throwing his head back and closing his eyes, he grabbed hold of Harden’s shoulders so that they might stay locked forever.
“Christ!” Harden screamed. “I can’t believe how good this feels. Christ, you’re tight.”
Harden lost himself inside Andy, pumping and pushing more fiercely. Each thrust was more powerful than the one prior. Andy had never before seen Harden’s current expression: pure ecstasy etched across his sweat-shellacked face. He pulled Andy down on him to get more fully inside, to push more of his man power deeper into him.
“Andrew…,” Harden grunted. “Is this what you need?”
Andy, close to reaching climax, shouted that it was. Harden sat up so that their chests pressed against each other. Their tongues dug into each other’s mouths, while Harden’s drives came quicker and sharper. Harden nibbled on Andy’s cleft chin and seemed fixated on it. Overwhelmed with pleasure, Andy clutched Harden’s deltoids and presented his neck for Harden’s mouth.
With a rapid succession of thrusts, Andy felt Harden’s sex pulse and fill the condom. But before Harden’s final spurt, Andy lowered his face so that he might see, eye to eye, the wonderful glow eclipse Harden’s countenance. It was at that moment that Andy realized Harden had given as much of himself to Andy as Andy had given him.
Stroking himself, Andy shot onto Harden’s hairy chest and fell forward. They lay still, stiff like mannequins, except for the rise and fall of their heaving chests. Andy stirred, and their stickiness made a strange sucking noise when he sat upright. Disbelief seared into Harden’s face, he stared blankly at Andy. But the corners of his lips quivered into something resembling a smile. Andy copied his expression.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Harden nodded, his breathing easing. “Felt amazing. But I better take a shower.”
“You have to now?”
“I’d feel better if I did.”
Before rising, Harden kissed him on his dimpled chin, and a few seconds later Andy heard the rush of water from the shower.
Alone in bed and unsure what to do next, Andy withdrew from the room and showered in his own basement bathroom. Lathering his body, he felt no regret for what he and Harden had done. He had given him what he’d needed, what he’d deserved. And Andy had received something glorious too. The need for a man—a man like Harden—was so intense that having that desire satisfied filled him not with sorrow but with a tremor that continued even as he toweled off.
Andy was drying his legs when Harden walked into the bathroom. He did not speak. Wearing only the same light-blue boxers, he embraced Andy from behind and held him firm to his damp body. His thickness began to grow again. Yes, a long time had passed since Harden had had sex. Realizing this, Andy dropped the towel, turned to him, and, equally and painfully hard again, held him tight, kissing him.
Harden rotated him back to face the sink. In the mirror, Andy could see Harden drop his boxers and grip his thick mass. He smacked it over Andy and then flourished a condom package that he’d held clenched in his fist.
Andy shivered, watching him roll on the condom and use spit to lubricate himself. Andy reached back and exposed himself more to Harden. Despite the initial pain, Andy had enough residual suntan lotion inside him he permitted Harden to push into him. Harden grabbed Andy’s hands and forced his stomach against the sink. Andy’s fingers curled around the edge of the counter, and Harden thrust faster.
Andy twisted his neck in search of Harden’s mouth with his probing tongue. They shared several kisses, and Harden stood straighter, focusing on taking Andy as much as he could.
Grunting and heaving and shouting how much he loved Andy’s tightness, he pulled out—which caused Andy to wince—and he shr
edded the condom before spewing hot globs on Andy’s back. Andy even felt some strike his nape.
Spent over Andy’s curved form, Harden wrapped his arms around his ribcage, his breath sour and his hair cold and damp. “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” he whispered into Andy’s ear. “But it feels so damn good. So amazingly good.” He inhaled hard breaths a moment more, then whispered, “I’m glad you’re here, Andy. I’m really glad you’re here.”
Andy gazed at Harden’s image. Harden showed no sign that he wanted to ease off him. The first pang of remorse sapped Andy from the ability to respond.
Chapter 22
ANDY awoke to dead quiet. Not a stir upstairs. No patter of feet or muted singsong voices or the murmur of cartoons. A pinkish flush filled the hopper windows, but the room swirled with shadows. He looked to his left, and there lay Harden, tangled in the top sheet and breathing lightly. It took a good few seconds for the reality of everything that had transpired the previous night to penetrate his consciousness.
They had made love—twice!
Andy’s desire to give Harden oral pleasure had been eclipsed by something more. Harden had responded with kisses, and they had rolled atop Harden’s bed, which had led to intercourse, beyond anything Andy had ever expected. Eventually, their lovemaking had carried them into Andy’s bed, where they had collapsed, holding each other until their bodies had faded with exhaustion.
Sex with Harden was no “fooling around.” It had proved to be serious business. Maybe too intense. Languid eyes, watering mouths, grasping hands. Harden Krane, a country poet in lovemaking.
Way better than I ever fantasized.
They had dissolved the boundaries of friendship and family. Where would they go now?
Harden’s eyes popped open. Andy expected him to glare at him, turn away sickened with shame once the recollection of what they had done surfaced, and dash upstairs. Instead, he smiled through the dawn’s light that brightened the room in a smokelike haze.
The South Side Tour Guide Page 17