“It’s called ‘being stubborn,’” Michael interjected.
“Yeah, well. After the third trip to the E.R., I realized it just wasn’t going to get better.”
Michael’s heart ached to hear this. He reached over and took her hand. “Please tell me he’s in jail. Because if I ever see this motherfucker, I will have to kill him.”
She let out a short laugh and sniffed, swiping away tears that formed on her lashes. “Don’t worry about that,” she said. “He’s serving twenty-five years in New Jersey for manslaughter. Drunk driving, killed a kid. I hate that a child had to die in order for me to be free.” She shrugged and shook her head. “Things…just have a way of falling into place, I guess.”
Michael wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “Yes, they do,” he murmured, and kissed her temple.
Despite finding out this distressing news about Justine, the rest of the evening went well. When Michael and Leshaun brought out the cake, there were cheers and shrieks of joy and surprise. “Who are you going to get for a surrogate?” Leshaun’s sister Latrice asked.
“We haven’t reached that decision, yet,” Michael said, passing out plates as Leshaun carved and served up the cake. “But we do know that we’d like to have the same mother. Each of us will contribute, so the children will be related biologically through one parent.”
“Well, make sure you find yourself a beautiful woman,” Latrice said, “because with my brother’s ugly face, that baby’s gonna need all the help it can get!”
Leshaun treated his sister to one of his nostril-flaring scowls, the kind reserved for facing down 300 lb. bruisers on the line of scrimmage. Then he broke into that wide, winning grin of his, and everyone laughed more. “Oh, I will get you,” he promised, shaking his finger at Latrice. “Girl, I will get you for that one…”
At the end of the night, everyone except their houseguests began to leave. Justine stayed to help clean up, which gave her and Michael more time to spend together. They were alone in the kitchen, finishing off a bottle of wine leftover from the party. Michael’s tie was gone and his shirt sleeves rolled up. Leshaun was upstairs talking with his parents.
Justine suddenly stopped and looked at Michael. “Let me have you babies,” she said.
Michael almost dropped the bowl he was putting into the dishwasher. He stared at Justine, blinking. “What?”
“You heard me.”
He laughed. “I think we should have this conversation when we’re sober.”
“I started thinking about it before I started drinking.” She planted her hands on the island counter between them. “You need a surrogate. I’m perfectly healthy. We’ve known each other forever. I’m not going anywhere for a while.” She shrugged. “It could work.”
“What could work?” Leshaun asked, coming back into the kitchen. He had already changed out of his party clothes, his pinstripe slacks traded for loose-fitting yoga pants, and a wife-beater that hugged every bulging muscle along his chest and torso. He pulled a cold beer out of the refrigerator and uncapped it. “Everyone’s gone to bed.” He frowned, confused by the look of shock still on Michael’s face. “What’s the matter, baby?”
“Justine,” Michael finally managed to say, “just offered to be our surrogate.”
“She did?” Leshaun’s eyebrows shot upward. He looked at her. “Damn.”
She glanced from Leshaun to Michael and back. “Is that a good ‘damn’ or a bad ‘damn?’”
“Oh, it’s good,” Leshaun assured. “I just pictured what our babies would look like coming from you – caramel-colored and drop-dead gorgeous.” Justine grinned at that. Leshaun turned to Michael. “What did you say?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Well, shit,” Leshaun said, “I think it’s a great idea. If you want to do it, baby, I say let’s go for it.”
Justine circled around the counter. “I realize you’re probably thinking in terms of artificial insemination,” she said. “But if you wanted to do it the old-fashioned, natural way…I’d be up for that, too.” She leveled her blue eyes at Michael. “After all…it wouldn’t be the first time I had you inside me.”
“Damn,” Leshaun said again. Both he and Michael had been bisexual before they met, but once they got together and made a commitment, there hadn’t been anyone else. He licked his lips and ran his fingers down the corners of his mouth. “Now I’m picturing the two of you having sex…”
She tossed her head. “Why just picture it?” she asked, smiling coyly, and left the unspoken suggestion out there, all three of them knowing exactly what she meant. She reached over and slowly pulled the dishcloth from Michael’s hands. Reaching up under her skirt, she hooked her panties and slid them down her legs. They dropped around her ankles and she stepped out of them. “We’re all friends here, right?” She reached out and stroked Michael’s cheek.
“Aw, girl…” Michael pulled her into his arms. He held her for a moment, nose buried in her neck. She smelled good, as good as he remembered. Lifting his head, he looked into her eyes briefly before lowering his mouth to hers. Her lush lips moved under his. As the kiss deepened, his arousal flared, fueled by the alcohol in his system. He fumbled between their bodies for his zipper, pulling out his sizable cock, already on the rise. Justine broke free from the kiss. Smiling up at him, she went to her knees and wrapped her mouth around his dick.
“Fuck, baby,” Leshaun muttered. His erection was already tenting the front of his trousers. Justine reached over and rubbed him through the material with one hand. Finding the drawstring, she tugged at it until his pants loosened and dropped down. His big prick tumbled out, thick and veiny like his muscular arms. Justine abandoned Michael’s cock, trailing saliva as she shifted to get a taste of Leshaun. She worked them both with her hands, pumping their shafts, sucking one and then the other. Leshaun hooked Michael around the back of his neck and pulled him over to kiss him hungrily.
Justine got to her feet again. “Fuck me,” she said breathlessly, licking precum from her swollen lips. Her face was flushed and her eyes fever-bright with lust. Leshaun did not waste any time. He lifted her up easily. She wound her legs around his waist and let out a moan when his cock found its way into her pussy. Leshaun’s big hands cupped her ass as he bounced her on his dick, standing there in the middle of the kitchen. “Yes!” she hissed. “Oh, God – fuck – yes!”
Michael spit into his hand and smeared it over his cock. Moving in behind them, he lifted the back of Justine’s short skirt. Leshaun stopped for a moment and waited while Michael felt around, guiding his cock to the slick folds where his husband’s dick was already buried. Justine let out a long, low moan as his prick slipped up inside, stretching her open wider as it slid in along Leshaun’s. “Oh, God!” she gasped. Michael could feel her pussy walls shake around his cock, and could feel the throbbing pulse of Leshaun’s shaft. When he came, he could already feel the heat of his husband’s release.
Justine sagged against Leshaun afterward. Michael pulled out and grabbed some paper towels to clean himself off before tucking his dick back in his slacks. Leshaun set Justine back on her feet but continued to hold her. She smiled up at him, and then at Michael. “So,” she said, “now that you’ve seen my audition…will you consider me for the part?”
Michael grinned. “Because I love you,” he said, and looked at Leshaun, “because I love both of you…I think this might just work out.” He moved in again when she held out her arm to him, and the three of them shared in a group hug. Michael lifted his head and kissed Leshaun. “Happy Anniversary, baby.”
Fighting For Jeb
Kevin's whole life has been a struggle. His chance to make something of himself is mixed martial arts fighting. Training is hard and it takes years before most can turn pro, so Kevin trains during the day and works nights at a warehouse. His gay trainer, Jeb, owns the gym where Kevin works out daily. Jeb isn't simply Kevin's trainer, he’s also his friend but as time wears on their relationships grow
s and changes and Kevin begins to question his heterosexuality as things begin to heat up. When a near tragedy hits, Kevin and Jeb both come to know how much more they mean to one another.
****
“Hit it,” Jeb snapped.
Kevin complied with his trainer’s orders immediately. He fired off two rapid punches to the body sized bag hanging from the ceiling. Jeb was on the far side of the bag, bracing it.
“Again.”
Another set of rapid punches to the bag.
“Again,” Jeb said through gritted teeth. He was putting a lot of his weight against the bag. Kevin could see that Jeb was straining against his hits. “Christ, you hit like my grandmother. No, fuck no, my great-grandmother! Hit this damn thing like you mean it.”
An image of a tiny, ancient Japanese woman going all ninja on his ass popped into Kevin’s head. His movements faltered as he tried not to laugh. When Jeb shoved against the bag it collided squarely with Kevin clobbering him in the chest. Throwing Kevin off guard and off balance.
Stumbling backward, Kevin hit the matt with a very unmanly squawk and a solid thud. Jeb burst out laughing.
“You did that on purpose,” Kevin complained and wiped one arm across his forehead.
Jeb threw him a towel. “Yeah. So?” He shook his head and stepped around the bag offering his hand to Kevin. “It gets you every time. You look pretty damn funny. Gotta lighten things up.”
“Uh huh.” Kevin hooked his wrapped hands around Jeb’s arm and hoisted himself to his feet. “Thanks.”
Jeb took Kevin’s hands in his own and turned them over. He began unwrapping them, inspecting as he removed the material. “What time do you work tonight?”
“I’ve got the second shift all month. My supervisor made sure I have the nights off I need for my matches. Everyone is excited about the fights I have coming up,” Kevin said. He suddenly felt shy telling Jeb all this.
Jeb dropped the strips of material into a bucket then took Kevin’s hands again, turning them over. He ran his fingertips lightly over the backs of Kevin’s hands, first one then the other. Pulling in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, his shoulders rose and fell once and he nodded. “Let’s get these iced.”
Kevin obediently followed Jeb from the practice ring to the locker rooms of the training facility. Jeb sat Kevin on a stool and took his hands again, pressing in at various points. “This hurt?”
Shaking his head Kevin said, “No, not really.”
Jeb arched an eyebrow. “Yes or no.”
“Yes.” Kevin sighed. “But just a little.”
Jeb nodded. “We’ll do foot work day after tomorrow. I want you to take tomorrow off.”
Kevin’s heart sank. Having to wait a whole day before seeing Jeb again and not being in the gym all that time, seemed like a century, not twenty-four hours and torture. Mostly it was the fact he would have to go all that time without seeing Jeb. For Kevin one of the highlights of any day was spending time with Jeb.
Jeb reached out and rubbed one hand lightly through Kevin’s shaggy, black hair. “Come by and help me out for the day. There’s always plenty to do around here.” It was as if he read Kevin’s mind and Kevin dared hope that Jeb would’ve missed him as well if he weren’t in the gym the next day.
Kevin’s emotions did an immediate about face. He smiled and nodded, hoping he didn’t look like the silly puppy he felt like just then. Like a lot of boys and young men in this area Kevin didn’t have a lot of choices in life. Sports or crime were his way out of an existence in a dead-end, low paying job. His part of the city was lower income, most folks had jobs, but they earned barely more than minimum wage. He didn’t have the grades for a good scholarship to college and his parents made a few hundred more a year to let him qualify for much financial help in the form of grants.
Petty larceny and auto theft didn’t appeal to Kevin, so he’d gone the sports route. He’d wrestled and boxed in high school, he did well but wasn’t the star. Kevin was the stable middle of the road team member. On a whim he’d answered an ad for general help in a mixed martial arts training facility for children. The job was miles from his home and hard to get to on public transportation. The gym owner had been a spectator at many of the area high school wrestling matches and remembered that his son and Kevin had been opponents on more than one occasion. Even though the job had been filled he’d let Kevin hang around for the day and use the equipment. The place was far nicer than the local recreation center Kevin usually used.
It was there he’d seen a flyer from a gym downtown offering fight training in exchange for cleaning help. This gym was a straight shot on public transportation from where Kevin lived so he decided he didn’t have anything to lose. That’s where he’d met Jeb. Jeb had recently opened the gym and he was trying to keep his startup costs down while at the same time drum up business. Kevin had dreams of being a pro fighter someday and even once a week training sessions was a place to start.
That had been three years ago. Now Jeb’s business was booming and Kevin trained five days a week at least. He worked part-time at a local warehouse and was working his way up the amateur ranks. He had talent and drive, people were noticing him and Jeb headed up a gym with an outstanding training team that did a decent job of keeping the promoters who were less than reputable at bay.
Jeb was Kevin’s idol, his mentor and his friend. He adored the man and had learned a great deal about him. He really did have a Japanese grandmother. She was a tiny, sweet little lady who Jeb claimed could probably kick both their asses without breaking a sweat. Her story was a classic one. She’d met and married an American soldier stationed in Japan and moved to the United States as a young woman, had a huge family who in turn had huge families themselves. Jeb’s mother had apparently married Sasquatch because there was nothing tiny, sweet, little or Japanese about Jeb. He was a big, dark skinned man with light brown eyes, a bass tenor voice and absolutely no one wanted to ever be on his bad side.
“Hey,” Jeb grumbled and smacked the side of Kevin’s head then looked at his watch. “You got an hour and a half before you have to get to work. Quit your daydreaming and go shower. Eat a decent meal too. Do you have food? Real food, not that noodle in a Styrofoam cup crap. Do you need a ride?”
“Um…yes, sort of and no, my car is running. Kind of.”
Jeb crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at Kevin for a second before huffing a breath. Without a word he took Kevin’s arm, turned and stomped to his office. Kevin didn’t dare resist, not that he really wanted to. Yanking open a freezer he pulled out a few packages wrapped in wax paper. “Eat, shower and don’t forget to lock your door. If I see you walking to work again through that neighborhood I’ll mug you myself. I don’t need my fighters getting beat up, robbed or worse thrown in jail when they defend themselves.”
“I’ll call you if my car won’t start,” Kevin said and held up his phone to show Jeb it was working.
“You’d damn well better.” Jeb gave Kevin’s ass a slap and he winked. “Now get. I expect you here sharp and bright tomorrow with a good eight hours’ sleep. You get off at eleven, home by midnight and I’ll see you promptly at nine in the morning.”
Kevin knew he blushed, and he didn’t miss the glint in Jeb’s eye. The guy was obviously quite pleased with himself for reading Kevin so well. Holding up one of the packages he said, “Thanks. See you tomorrow.” He caught a bus that took him the half mile or so home. He’d moved into a one room apartment last year, it was closer to work and more importantly the gym. Gas was expensive and his car was iffy at best, so he took the bus when he could.
After putting the packages in the freezer, leaving one out to take to work for dinner, Kevin headed to the shower. The hot water felt good. As he soaped up he leaned against the shower wall and let his mind wander. When his sponge reached his cock he looked down at his pale skin, dark curls between his legs and wondered, not for the first time, what his light skin would look like against Jeb’s dark flesh. If he closed hi
s eyes, he could picture being nestled in Jeb’s strong embrace, kissing.
He’d been on a few dates a year with this girl or that one, nothing ever came of it. The more he strove for Jeb’s approval and attention, the more he was realizing how much he loved the man. Kevin hadn’t ever questioned his manhood or sexuality, yet he’d never had much of a life with the ladies either. Didn’t matter, or at least that’s what he told himself. Jeb wouldn’t be interested in him.
There was no reason he couldn’t let a fantasy play out in his mind, however.
Widening his stance he dropped the sponge and used his soapy hand to hold his dick. He pulled in a few deep breaths, letting them out slowly. Jeb’s image ceased kissing, dropped to his knees and took Kevin’s cock in his mouth. His so-so hard on changed into a serious hard on in less than a few seconds.
“Oh, yeah, come on, suck me harder,” Kevin murmured and stroked his cock with vigor. Maybe it was because he didn’t know any girls he had real feelings for. Or, possibly it was only because Jeb was someone he truly loved—but just as a friend?—when Jeb’s mouth on his dick came to mind Kevin shot his load everywhere.
When Kevin arrived at work that night he was in a good mood that carried him through his shift. Even the microwave blowing a fuse again and only halfway heating his dinner didn’t dampen his spirits. He fell asleep that night thinking of seeing Jeb the next day and getting the chance to talk more with him than on a normal training day.
The next morning Kevin arrived at the gym ten minutes early. When Kevin walked in the side door, Jeb’s face lit up and he waved, making Kevin’s heart skip a beat. Jeb really seemed to always pay extra attention to him and he was always very happy to see Kevin.
Interracial Romance: Gay Romance: Bound By His Own Desires (MMM Endowed Black Men Bondage Threesome Romance) (A Billionaire's Freedom Book 3) Page 133