Dreamspinner Press Year Three Greatest Hits

by Jenna Hilary Sinclair

  “Ohhh.” He breathed out a long exhale. “I’ll go slow. At least I’ll try. Relax, relax. Push out, that might help.”

  Before I could do anything he nudged inside, and then he froze.

  I gasped, and for a few agonizing seconds I felt as if I’d been truly stabbed by a knife, straight into my guts. Not that long of a knife, but one that was wide and commanding. And then, just as quickly, the pain receded like the swift retreat of a wave.

  Kevin was gasping too, and his arms, pressed against my legs, were trembling. “Okay? Okay?”

  It wasn’t painless. I still throbbed, but as my ass folded itself around the tentative advance of Kevin’s shaft, it was nothing like I’d expected and had been resigned to endure. “Good, it’s good. Try more. Come on.”

  He pulled back, not completely out, and then pushed in more and held himself there.

  With every second that passed the cramping faded. “Come on. A little more. Move, you can move.”

  His hips flexed. Out and then back in he went, and then out and back in, and out and back in, tiny taps that brought him deeper each time, smooth pull-outs that never completely separated us. I could feel his wider cockhead stretch me as it threatened to leave through my sphincter muscle, which had miraculously slackened for him.

  His expression was intent as he hovered over me, his eyes wide, his mouth half-open. The play of his muscles as he moved in the dim light caught me; the push against my legs when he thrust in captured me. It was so good to see his face. Already I could feel I was opening up, and his passage in was smooth, welcoming. I pushed back using the minimal leverage I had and heaved into him, meeting his thrusts.

  “Oh, yeah!” he said. I remembered the sounds he made from before, the grunt with every push in. “Yeah, do that. Come on, honey, do it.”

  I did, shoving myself toward him as he drove into me, then over and over and over we rocked together. The feeling he was giving me: good, indescribable, because it wasn’t only that my cock was pulsing where it was trapped between us. There was something more that moved in me, that was spreading from the pit of my stomach, that tightened my chest as well as my balls, that was unknown and yet strangely familiar. My arms had been bent on the pillow, curled around my head, but now I stretched them to either side, straight out, and stared up at him. I didn’t know what this was. I’d never understood why I was a gay man who wanted to be filled like this, but Kevin was giving it to me just right, just right.

  “Oh,” he moaned. “I’ve gotta, gotta, can’t help it.” He speared me with a fierce snap of his hips, and I met him. Everything narrowed to his swift slide that finally filled me completely, his cock forcing me open, on and on and on in decades-long split seconds until finally he grunted and stopped.

  We stayed like that for a hovering moment, two, three….

  “Up,” he insisted. “Up.”

  A buzz sounded in my ears when I realized what he wanted—closer, higher, impossibly deeper—and a tickling thrill danced straight down my spine to my prick. His hands went under my butt, forcing me up, lifting me and settling me even more firmly onto him. I went willingly until my legs were hopelessly hoisted up and over his shoulders, my only point of contact with the bed the braced line of my outstretched arms fingertip to fingertip. It seemed the only thing holding me to this world at all was Kevin thrust up inside my ass.

  Hated it. Didn’t I? Hated it, me who’d always been so certain to be in charge. Kevin had me where he wanted me. I could barely move, as curled up on myself as I was, caught and held. My cock, now freed from where it had been pressed between us, wept with grief, with excitement, and my pre-cum literally dripped down into my pubic hair. I wanted to jerk myself off but couldn’t because my one good arm wouldn’t support me. I was hard like a man who hadn’t had any sex at all in nearly half a year, who’d spent the summer wanting exactly what he’d gotten here, now. How I wanted this.

  “Let’s go,” I growled, and I pushed onto him as best I could.

  “Yes!” Kevin exulted. “I’m close already. Take it. Take it!”

  I couldn’t keep his face in focus. We moved too fast, the time was too intense. My need to come rose even higher when I knew I wouldn’t come until he was finished and could touch me. Even so, perversely, I wanted him to last a lot longer, to let me grab these memories and store them: Kevin pounding into me, his grunts and ragged inhalations, his fingers digging into where he was holding onto my legs, the stiffening of his thighs, his unmistakable, quickening thrusts.

  I looked up into the raw slashing of his eyes. “Now!” I urged him. “Come on, come on, now!”

  He shoved in and stayed in, his cheeks stiffened, his mouth rounded, and I followed everything, felt it as if in my own body, felt the tightening of balls and the supercharged flaring of the cockhead. And then he jerked and howled. His gravelly voice filled the room, and the heat of his jism flooded the rubber. My cock shuddered, wanting desperately to explode.

  “Uhn. Uhn.” Four times he thrust as he came, as I held myself open for him.

  When he was finished, his head sagged, but then he looked down at me, out of air, with a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Victory sparkled in his eyes. “Oh, yeah.”

  “My turn,” I demanded.

  Kevin grabbed my knees more tightly and grinned. “You sure?”

  “Bastard!”

  He lowered my legs and pulled out at the same time, his cock making a wet, sucking sound as it left me, and then right away he leaned down to take my cock in his mouth.

  Two good sucks, that’s all he managed to give me before I clamped my hands in his hair and erupted, two, three, four, and one final fifth time.

  Right away, post-sex exhaustion swept over me, and I couldn’t keep my eyes open. Kevin had taken everything I had to give. I slept.

  I OPENED my eyes to the kind of stillness that drifts over the skin and tells you it’s the middle of the night. I lay there for minutes, half-awake, half-asleep, drifting in and out of awareness, not entirely sure what was real but still knowing that all was right with the world. Cool air drifted across my face. Overhead a jet sliced through the sky far over Texas.

  A sheet covered me. Languidly, I turned my head toward the clock on the nightstand. It glowed three oh two in green numerals. I was in bed in the town of Springrose. My left leg was pressed against something warm and yielding, and with a thump of my heart I realized that it was Kevin’s leg. He was the one next to me; his soft breathing was a reward for living.

  Sunday. A new day and week that I was starting with Kevin. The world had been remade.

  I thought of retrieving Kevin’s truck from Avery-the-windshield-man. We’d do that together, just two guys who needed a ride to Abilene when we were so much more than just two guys. I thought of paying for two rooms in this motel when we were only using one, and how that didn’t make a lot of sense. I thought of Robbie and the life he might lead, and then of the life he was leading right now. Was he reluctant to go to class? Had anyone ever shoved him to the ground or threatened him? Did he dream of going to a place where he could be honest and live free? Would he ever awaken in the middle of the night the way I just had and know the goodness and rightness of who he was because the man next to him had shown it to him?

  I thought of Kevin and how he’d made penetration easy for me, and I was filled with a sense of wonder. I didn’t know how to respond to such a gift, or how to act with a man who was that considerate, who cared for my comfort and showed it in the most tangible way possible. What he’d done had really helped. Why hadn’t I insisted my sex partners always do that, so I could have been having the kind of sex I’d been wanting all along? But that would have meant finding somebody I trusted the way I trusted Kevin, and I couldn’t imagine that happening. Kevin had muscled his way into my life and almost forced me into that trust, but it was real in me right now.

  I turned over to see him. The light that had illuminated us when we’d had sex was still on, so my dark-adjusted eyes could make him ou
t clearly.

  He was on his back, one arm across his stomach. I couldn’t see where the other one was. His legs were spread, his right one crooked at the knee to touch my own. The sheet had slipped down to his waist, so I could appreciate the slow inhalations and exhalations that raised and lowered his chest. What an amazing man. How had he done this to me? Turned me to mush, for sure, with my mask of a strong, defiant, self-protective man who managed his life precisely stripped away.

  Kevin was so easy on my eyes, and I let my eyes range down his body, linger on the sheet-covered package between his legs, and then settle on his face again. I could imagine him, years younger, on the football field—not better-looking, just younger, maybe even thinner—or better yet, stripped and taking a communal shower with the rest of the team, maybe stealing glances at and lusting after that offensive lineman he’d said he liked. Kevin stripped, yes. Despite how we’d already made love that night, my cock stirred at the thought, and I wanted him again.

  It was harder to imagine him in that first and only year of marriage to his wife Julianne, doing his best in the conjugal bed but without heart, without passion. That’s how it must have been, because I knew how he was with a man, with me, and the essential rightness that we each had brought to this bed and to each other. Kevin had been born to make love to a man, the same way I had.

  I could imagine him waking up every morning with somebody he cared about, yawning and stretching, then turning over with a smile and kissing that someone awake—that lucky someone. Kevin wouldn’t hold back on the smiles, the laughter, the quick concern, the easily given confidence, the love. Kevin was an emotional man, a caring man, and I knew he was looking for somebody to share his life with.

  Against the warm cotton of my pillow, my fingers curled. I wanted to touch him so badly, but I didn’t let myself. At least I had that much control. I needed to let him sleep.

  For all that the sex between us this night had been so different for me—out-of-my-head exciting, but different in a host of other ways too—still it had seemed so natural. Comfortable and valued. Maybe that was always how it was for men with friends who would willingly scratch their itch, but I didn’t think so, and Kevin wasn’t that kind of friend. Plus he had a knack for making our times together seem extraordinary but easy at the same time.

  I hadn’t been easy in my mind or my body in years, not since Sean and that one night that had changed everything. My life had been a struggle between my commitment to my profession and the raw needs of my body that I couldn’t ignore. What I had needed beyond that—waking up every morning with someone I cared about—I had shoved aside as a failing I could not afford to indulge. I had convinced myself I would never have it and that only weak men wanted it. Not men who lived in the real world, who felt the real, brutal consequences of being gay, and who had been forced into black-and-white choices.

  And now… I wasn’t so convinced. Was there any middle ground?

  Kevin—good, interesting, compelling, wildly attractive—already had a strong hold on me, on my thoughts, on my body, and in the way I was changing because he quietly demanded that I change. What we’d done hadn’t just been screwing; it had been different from any night or afternoon I’d spent with a pickup, different even than those times in Houston I’d spent with him. More of me had been present with Kevin from the very beginning, and it seemed that he was coaxing the rest of me to appear: with kisses at his front door and maybe just by being himself.

  I couldn’t possibly be the one he was looking for. Could I be?

  I shivered, though I didn’t know whether from fear or excitement or the ground shifting out from under me. Maybe I could. Maybe I wanted to be. In the best of all possible worlds…. But life in Gunning, Texas was far from that best world. How could there be a Kevin and me together?

  I forced myself to roll away and stare up at the ceiling instead of at him, trying to empty myself of thought, of feeling, the way it had always been safest for me, tried and true for the long span of my teaching career. But even when I could control my thoughts and deny my feelings, I’d learned the body couldn’t be shut out. As I tried to simply lie there, a subtle ache in my ass insisted on calling to me. I ached just enough to know that I’d been fucked—body-knowledge that I’d been stretched and taken there—and it was the best feeling I’d had in a long time. Kevin had done me good. Six months since we’d done it first, and now this time… and when next?

  When next?

  Rebellion that I had not allowed for sixteen long years blasted past my defenses and rose in me, hard and strong. I wanted the ache, the sex, nights like this, and contented mornings all the time. I thought… I thought I wanted Kevin. I did. Why could some men have this when I couldn’t? Why could the straights have the intimacy, the comfort, the easy companionship that Kevin offered me when I had to turn away from it? Why did they reach for love and find it, when I’d walked down a long, difficult road feeling myself forced to deny it?

  “Why can’t I have it?” I whispered.

  After a while my full bladder forced me up and into the bathroom. I could tell from the wet washcloth and the tied-off condom in the wastebasket that Kevin had been there before me, cleaning himself from the realities of our kind of lovemaking, and yet the light had been left on. After I pissed and cleaned myself, my hand hovered over the light switch. It was the middle of the night and we should be sleeping. But maybe Kevin had kept it on for the same reason I did; I wanted to be able to see him.

  When I got back to the bed, Kevin had turned onto his side. I tried not to jostle the mattress as I got in beside him again. The bed wasn’t overly large for two men and the use we had made of it. I settled in under the sheet and turned my head toward him, letting the sight of him fill me up across the few inches that separated us. I didn’t care about sleep. I wanted to take this all in because I feared this night, this feeling, this man might go sliding away, sucked into that other world I usually lived in. Here, now, everything was different. Hope lived here, and Kevin, sleeping, was beautiful.

  The sight of him soothed me, and though I blinked to keep myself awake, eventually I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I feel asleep to the sound of him breathing and the knowledge that, regardless of what else happened in my life, this night was real. My dreams were good.

  I didn’t know how long I’d slept, but it felt like a long time when I woke up again. It was still night, though. The bed dipped and the sheet lifted behind me as Kevin stirred. I’d rolled away from him during the hours, onto my right side. A moment later his arm was around my waist and his knee pushed within the bend of mine. The point of his chin brushed my back. “Hey,” he said, and then he cleared his throat and said it again, louder, with his voice not as husky. “Hey, do you mind this?”

  To prove I didn’t, I rested my left arm over his and squeezed. Then I settled with my fingers spread over his tendons, his knuckles, the strength of his hand that matched my own. He took in a small, just-heard breath and let it out slowly, and the sound of the effect I had on him about did me in: my own private swell of good feeling crashed over me, and there where he couldn’t see me, I smiled. He edged forward until the rest of him was pressed against me, I wriggled back to help, and it was perfect. I relaxed on my side against the pillow and let him hold me.

  “You must be feeling okay after what we just did,” he said. “You’re not hurting, are you?”

  Not unless hurting meant everything was better.

  His flaccid cock pushed against my ass. We’d never touched like this without both of us wanting sex. As close as we’d been during sex, the way we were now seemed… more. Closer. We were pressed against one another without the driving urgency, just because we wanted to be. Yes, I wanted this too.

  Don’t think about how impossible it will be to continue this, and how the wide world waits. Just feel.

  “Did you think I’d break?” I asked lightly, drumming my fingers once against his knuckles.

  “No. That’s one of the things I like abou
t being with a man.”

  I gripped his hand hard, then settled my fingers between his. “Me too.”

  We were quiet for a while. I felt myself sinking not into sleep again but into the pillow, the mattress, the silence, and him, into the wonder of being with him like this. I wanted to turn over and see him again, to touch his face and let him touch mine, but this was good too, good enough to keep me where I was.

  But eventually he moved. Kevin untangled his hand from under mine and rested it instead on the point of my left shoulder. I couldn’t help but tense. Kevin traced the length of my damaged arm, his fingers dancing against my scars, ending by resting lightly on my wrist.

  “Does your arm hurt all the time?” he asked softly.

  Nobody else asked me questions about it, but I should have known that Kevin would. I hid my arm, and I compensated for it, and I tried to forget it. For a long time it had made me feel like less of a man.

  I swallowed against my instinct to dissemble. He deserved an answer. “No. Well, sometimes.”

  “You don’t have much strength in this arm. Or mobility.”

  “I have enough. I manage okay.”

  “Yes, you do. Most folks wouldn’t even notice. I didn’t, for a while. It’s amazing you can play golf with it.”

  He didn’t say anything more, for once not tapping against my ineffectual boundaries. As if to prove that there was some strength in me and that arm, I turned my hand over to grasp his and roughly pulled him back to where the two of us been before, with him embracing me from behind.

  “You know how I wasn’t ready when you came over?” he asked right away. “I wasn’t leading you on, being dressed like that.”