by Mia Kerick
Gay. Gay? Gay! Gay….
I’ve never before seen myself this way. Even the night he got me off at the hotel hadn’t made me feel as gay as sharing this kiss with Liam. And I want so much to deny it, but I can’t—tonight, at least, I want to keep going in this “gay” direction. And in the morning I’ll likely blame my actions on the booze or the trauma or the loss of my girlfriend or a serious case of hero worship, or on anything that comes to mind when I decide it’s time to make my straight escape. But, right now I’m determined to go along with this. I lift my hands to the sides of his bearded face and pull him closer.
Liam establishes his dominance the very instant I let him know that our kiss is okay with me. To be honest, his control of this situation thrills me in a way I quickly realize is a game-changer. The abandon with which he’s kissing me now—the sureness and direction and desire he’s struggling to reign in—leads me into pleasure, without allowing for the kind of second thoughts or doubts that have previously inhibited me. He leads, I follow. It actually is that simple.
I’ve never felt comfortable in the sexually aggressive role that’s expected of me as a “healthy, red-blooded American man.” I struggled with Ginny to find the place I wanted to be when in bed. But Liam seems to already know this, as I’m currently living my secret passive fantasy in his arms.
“You need to lie flat beneath me and be still,” Liam tells me when our passionate kiss finally comes to its breathy conclusion. “Because I want to take in every inch of you, and I can see you better when your body isn’t moving so much. You will do this for me?”
I’m surprised at how easy it is to lower my eyes and nod.
Liam pushes me down flat on the bold, flowery fabric and studies my fully clothed body. I can’t remove my gaze from his face, as he’s so totally absorbed in me. It’s more than flattering; it’s addictive. Then without a hint of hesitation he reaches for the hem of my white T-shirt, and wordlessly enlists my cooperation as he pulls it cleanly over my head. My chest is bare and exposed and I feel vulnerable, so much so that I try to cross my arms in front of me, but Liam pushes them to my sides. When his lips, surrounded by the scruffy bush of his beard, brush the skin on my ribcage, the rush of arousal makes me gasp.
“Stay still… and take what I give you.” Liam pins my arms to the couch and proceeds to feast on my chest. When I feel his sharp white teeth nibbling on one nipple, then the other, I begin to writhe and I forget the very last of my reservations.
“You’re mine… I saved you, so now it’s my job to take care of the big stuff and the small stuff—everything you need. No one’s gonna hurt you or scare you… I won’t let anybody harm so much as a hair on your head, Jase… I won’t.” Liam rambles on and on—vows of how he’ll always protect me—as he unbuttons and then unzips my jeans. As soon as the fly is open he slides his hand inside and cups my balls. I struggle mentally with the knowledge that it’s a man’s hand on me, but this doesn’t diminish my erection. “You’re gonna be mine and you’re gonna know it tonight.” His face drops down below my waist and first he nuzzles my entire crotch—as if he’s breathing me in—and then he mouths the tip of my dick through the thin cotton of my boxers.
I gasp again at the sensation and the knowledge that a man is giving it to me. “I’ve never felt like this, Liam….” I say this with complete honesty because I’ve never felt this turned on, even with Ginny. My come-clean candor surprises me because it isn’t my style. “What now? What comes next?”
Liam lifts his face from between my legs and he smiles. My lack of comfort in this area seems to give him more confidence, as well as to feed his passion, and he replies in a deep, rumbling tone, “All good things, Jase. Only good things.”
I lift my ass more eagerly than I can believe so he’s able to easily pull down my shorts and when they’re on the floor beside us, he bites the elastic of my boxers and tugs at them with his teeth. I reach down to help him pull them off, but Liam’s huge palm stops me. “I want to undress you myself. Stay still.”
Complying is easy and freeing, and at this moment, exactly what I want. He reaches for the waistband of my boxers and peels them down quickly, causing my dick to pop up, right into his face. For a moment only, his action seems experimental; he licks the moisture at the tip and hums as if the flavor is unique and wonderful, like nothing else he’s tasted. His reaction is unexpected and stimulating.
The contrast of being naked when Liam is fully dressed further fuels my arousal; for some reason I feel even more helpless to the desire of the man beside me. I begin to tremble, not from cold, but from the awareness that I’m not the one in control, that I must wait and stay still until the moment he chooses to move this experience forward.
“Keep your hands by your sides,” Liam orders gently as he releases my arms. He then proceeds to examine my stiff dick, and I want desperately to cover myself, but Liam is the king here tonight and he wants to do things his way. So this is how it will be.
“Have you ever been sucked by a man?” His attention shifts from my dick to my eyes. When I shake my head, he says, “Neither have I, but I know what I like when I’m with women. So, I’d say you’re gonna need to brace yourself.”
His words alone send a spasm of chills up my spine, and in obedience, I clutch the flowery fabric on the couch in my fists as Liam roughly parts my legs and climbs between them. His shoulders are broad, and the fit on the couch is tight, but that doesn’t deter him. He bends down and without a second of hesitation swallows me wholly and enthusiastically. Nothing has ever felt this good. I’m not sure anything ever will.
After sucking with rapt determination and bringing me to the edge three times, Liam pulls his own T-shirt off and I’m presented with the ripped muscles of a man who possesses true physical superiority over most everyone he meets.
A man… a man….
He reaches down to unbutton his own fly, and he pulls out his dick. It’s enormous and hard and as eager as I am for what will come next.
“I can’t wait any longer,” he tells me with urgency, and before I know it he’s again bent between my thighs. “I want you to arch your back when you come, and then I’m going to get up on my knees and finish myself off. I’m gonna come on your skin.” He’s looking up at me again, trying to talk without gasping for air. One of his hands is hard at work on his own dick, and I reach out to touch his face but he says, “Hands at your sides, please.”
My entire body quivers as I place my hands by my sides, close my eyes, and accept how he pulls so assertively on my dick with his tongue. In less than thirty seconds, I reach down to touch Liam’s shoulder, giving him the signal that it’s time.
“I want to see.” His voice is raspy, and he lifts his head to watch me come, my back arched in ecstasy as he requested. The instant I lower my back to the couch, he kneels and jerks himself—once, twice, and then his warm come is splashing on my belly.
Within a minute he’s up off the couch, leading me to the bedroom, where he cleans me with his T-shirt and pulls me into bed.
10
Can two men experience emotional and sexual satisfaction with each other when they aren’t gay?
I wake up with this question burning in my mind.
It was already over, romantically speaking, with Ginny when the shooting took place in the theater. Ginny and I had agreed that we’d spend the summer apart and when we returned from break, it would be as friends. I was just too tame to fit her idea of “the perfect man,” and my feelings for Ginny had shifted over time from romantic love to deep admiration. And although our impending break-up was decided by mutual agreement, it had been difficult to accept. But there’s no doubt, I’d once loved Ginny and had been fulfilled by our relationship, both emotionally and sexually. How can I possibly feel so complete this morning, after having been pretty much possessed in bed by a man?
To be brutally honest, last night with Liam I experienced a kind of sexual satisfaction I was unaware even existed.
But, shi
t, I loved Ginny. I wanted her body and I treasured her brain and I found her to be the funniest, quirkiest, most fascinating person I’d ever met. I loved her, for Christ’s sake. So I must be straight. I’ve only dated girls in the past; I took girls to proms and to homecoming dances and down by the lake to make out and home to meet my mother. I’ve never looked at the masculine form—a scruffy beard, massive thighs, a deep voice, ripped pecs, a powerful back—and experienced sexual desire.
With one fucking humongous exception. And right now he’s draped on top of me, literally. Lying on his belly on the double bed, his sturdy arm is stretched out across my hips, his legs entwined with mine. We’re both stark naked and I’m hard as a rock; my quandary with regard to my sexual orientation doing nothing to diminish my morning wood.
“You’re up.” He pulls my body tight against his and one big palm comes down on my erection.
“In more ways than one,” I quip.
“I’ll take care of it for you.” His hand begins to move as his mouth finds the hollow of my neck, and the feeling of his scratchy beard, contrasted with his soft lips on my throat, along with the steady pumping of my dick, has me coming almost immediately. He watches closely as I arch my entire body against his. Uh…yeah… I do it again, as I know he liked it when I did it last night. When had I become such a pleaser?
I’ve never touched a man with the intention of pleasuring him, and the mere thought brings me back to perplexity about my sexual orientation. It’s amazing how a morning orgasm can make you see the big picture so clearly. It seems like Liam senses my sudden reluctance and when I awkwardly reach for his dick, he takes my hand in his and kisses it, then excuses himself to the shower.
Part of me wants to trail after him, as I’m a committed follower, but another part of me isn’t so sure it’s the right thing to do. I’m completely out of my league here; I don’t know what any of this means. I just know that he makes me happy in a way I’ve never been happy before, but I doubt that it can really be that simple. For a moment, I wonder how Liam can perform so well sexually, with me, another guy.
Maybe he’s bi.
He’s about the manliest man I’ve ever met, and I always thought that possessing major masculinity meant a man had to be straight and…. Right now, the subject of sexual orientation clearly confuses me and upsets me to a degree.
I decide to make toast.
***
We have another awesome day, swimming and sunbathing on the tiny beach in front of the cottage. All day I fight the urge to touch him, but more than that, I struggle with the desire for Liam to touch me. I want him to push me down on the sand and do whatever he likes to my body, but I think he’s as wary as I am. Neither of us is the world’s best communicator, and because we’re driving home later this afternoon, there’s no way we can drink beer to loosen up.
After we go out to a simple lunch at a bagel shop, we head back to our cozy little cottage. And despite the fact that I’m unsure of what I’m doing—I have no clue what this thing is between Liam and me—I just can’t fight my urge to connect with him, really connect with him, one more time before we part. I’m aware that we probably won’t see each other until we go back to Batcheldor College, but I’m also aware that the past two days have been my best since the shootings.
“Shit, I’m beat. You up for a nap?” I have no idea if he buys my fake exhaustion so I yawn for added emphasis.
The way he looks at me almost breaks my heart. On this hulking, burly, heavily bearded man who has more power in his little finger than I have in my right arm, I see more fear than I saw on his face in the dark theater last April. “You sure it’s what you want?” He’s giving me a chance to back out of what I’ve clearly suggested, and he glances away as he awaits my answer.
“I want to.” And Jase, the follower, leads Liam into the cottage.
We go straight to the bedroom, where the sheets are rumpled and the blanket is pooled up at the end of the bed, just the way we left them this morning. Liam and I climb onto the bed and lie flat on our backs, so close our shoulders touch.
“I’m still sandy from the beach,” he says in a listless monotone that I decide immediately is not even remotely natural.
“So am I. A little sand won’t hurt us.”
“’Kay.”
I turn toward him and admit the truth. “I’m not gay.” I hear him sigh, longer and louder than usual. “I’m not gay, but I feel stuff for you I can’t explain.”
Apparently my second brief confession is sufficient to set Liam at ease. He wraps his arms around me, and once again I experience a measure of peace and contentment, as well as a feeling of being bonded in a way that can’t be broken.
“I’ve never been with a guy, but I wanna make love to you, Jase. I’m not sure what this makes me, sexually speaking, and I’m pretty sure I don’t care.” Liam doesn’t dance around it. “I can make this something you’ll never forget. Let me.”
I nod. I want this. I want to feel the way I felt last night. But still my mind races with questions about my sexuality and his sexuality, and Liam knows it.
“Sshhh. Settle down. It’s gonna be okay.”
He’s right. When I’m with him, everything’s okay. He’s proved this time and again. He’s my hero, isn’t he? So I nod again and then I settle down as he told me to do. And I wait for what comes next.
“Maybe we should rinse off in the shower, Jason. There are some things sand will hurt.”
***
As I stand under the stream of water, I again think about Ginny. I remember the first time we made love; she had been an unlikely virgin. Her outer image was so cool and “whatever, dude” that I almost didn’t believe her when she’d told me that she’d never before “gone all the way.” I’d tried to make the first time memorable for her, as I’m sure Liam wants to do for me. With Ginny, I’d felt pressure, though, to perform and to satisfy and to be aggressive enough but not too much, and all in all, the experience was more stressful than satisfying.
I wonder if Liam feels similar pressure or if, because we’re both guys, first times somehow aren’t as noteworthy.
After he rinses the sand off his body, we return to the bedroom, still naked from the shower. We stand there looking at each other with wide eyes until he urges me, “Lie down on your stomach. I wanna rub your back ‘til you’re relaxed.”
To relax me, it might take quite a lot of effort—Liam could still be rubbing my back at six tonight—but I flip onto my belly anyway. “Okay,” I say.
He climbs on my ass and speaks softly into my ear. “I’m gonna rub your shoulders really hard. It might hurt a little but when I’m done you’re gonna feel like a….”
And suddenly I’m back… I’m back on the floor of the theater with Liam’s weight pressing me into the seats, protecting me from being shot. In an instant, I’m terrified and sweating, and at the same time I’m frozen. He whispers into my ear, “I’m gonna push on your back really hard and I want you to squeeze as much of your body underneath the chairs as you can, got it?”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “I can’t do this again… no… not again!”
The room is dark… pitch black… all I can do is absorb the fear and hear the—
Pop-pop-pop… pop-pop-pop….
“Ginny… I’m sorry, Ginny… I lost you… I let you die!”
Pop-pop-pop….
“Liam… where are you, Liam? Liam!”
Pop-pop-pop….
“Hey, Jase… Jase… it’s okay. I’m here….” He’s a million miles away.
My breathing is ragged… I have to control it. Small breaths… short breaths….
“No more short breaths, ‘kay? You’ll faint… so you need to breathe deep. Do it with me.”
“He’ll see… Liam, if I breathe deep, my chest will rise and I’ll make your body move and he’ll see and he’ll kill you….”
“One… two… three… nice and slow… breathe with me….”
Against my better judgment, I do as h
e says, but as soon as my breathing slows down, the comforting weight slips from my back, and I’m cold and alone and exposed.
Pop-pop-pop…
“Liam!”
“Jason, you’re safe… you’re with me at the cottage… and we spent the day swimming in the bay, remember? And I won’t let him hurt you… not ever.” There’s a hand in mine and it’s huge and strong… and a beard scratching the back of my neck…. “Open your eyes… you’ll see that you’re safe.”
I trust the voice in my ear… I really do. If he says to open my eyes I should open them. When I crack open my eyes I see one thing—one person—and it’s the one person I need. “Liam….”
“Look around… check out where we are.”
We’re in a dingy old bedroom of a salty-smelling cottage with views of the ocean out the open window.
“You’re okay, and Dom DeSalles is dead. He’s never coming back and, besides, now you have me to look out for you.”
Just like that, I’m in the cottage again… and I’m humiliated. I want to cry, but I’m determined to stop the tears that have welled up in my eyes from spilling down my cheeks. “I’m sorry… this has happened to me at home but it has never happened when I’m out.”
“It’s alright… I think you had a flashback. No worries at all. I’m just so glad I could be here for you.”
I turn toward him and hug him tight. “We were about to… to do something… weren’t we?” The dreamy romantic energy between us is lost but I’m willing to try to retrieve it.
“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll just hold you for a while.”
Without letting go, I say, “Holding me is just what I think we both need and… and it looks like you saved me… again.”
“It is my life’s greatest goal.” He says it with a smile and a wink, but I can tell he’s not joking.
Part Three
August
11