Don't Read in the Closet volume one

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Don't Read in the Closet volume one Page 53

by Various Authors


  His words stunned me. Embarrassment erupted like a volcano, burning my face. He patted my arm. “No need to be upset, Ben. You made me feel proud then, as you continue to do to this day.”

  “How could I possibly make you proud?”

  “Because you saw Tony’s beauty,” he said, surprised I asked. “You saw his attractiveness and the innate exquisiteness of his heart. You saw him as a person, friend and lover, not as an object or a convenience, as others did. You respected him and he appreciated your attitude and learned to trust you, as I do. I’m proud he attracted a person of your astuteness and character.

  “Did you tell him to acknowledge me?”

  “No, Ben. I suggested he should stop building walls, stop isolating himself, to put past hurtful memories and personal issues aside and look to the horizon and see what he’s missing.”

  “Leo,” I said, my voice cracking, gripping his hand, “I’m honoured you did and I’m glad he listened.”

  He patted my hand and rested in his chair, brushing ‘Snowy’, the Maltese Terrier in his lap, allowing me moments to reflect his message. Music and gaiety between family and friends always celebrated Leo’s Summer Sunday Lunches. Today, melancholy pervaded the quiet patio, despair of laughter and friends, just his family and me. I wondered why.

  “Come, my friend. Let’s see what Apollonia and Antonios are concocting in the kitchen.”

  ****

  “Okay, hit remote one,” I said from the driver’s seat, slowing for the security gates to open to the housing estate. A minute later he pressed the others, opening the driveway gate and garage door while Vicious and Thug, the Alsatians, ran amok around the Mustang convertible.

  He lead me to the rear balcony where he turned, cupped my face and ground his lips to mine. “I guess you want to swim naked, mmmm?” knowing my answer, removing my ‘Tony’s Coffee House’ work shirt with practiced fingers, followed by shoes, socks and trousers, pausing as usual at my briefs, his hands sweeping their contents. “Mmmm, nice bulge and the cutest butt too. Guess you want them off, mmmm?” knowing I do, dropping to his knees, using his skilled teeth to lower them.

  “Later, cupid,” I said, clasping his face before his mouth clamped around my released, aroused appendage.

  “Aaawww, just once?”

  “No, ‘cuz your ‘just once’ ends up all night.” I pulled him up and attacked his belt buckle.

  “You always like my mouth drooling over you.”

  “I know, but tonight I’m pampering you, my sexy man. Relax and enjoy, and think about what happened six years ago on this date.”

  “Six years? Mmmm,” he sighed his customary hum. “Six and a half years ago we met. Which means on this night, six years ago we…”

  “Right on, sexy. We, as they say politely, ‘consummated’ our love. In other words we fucked ourselves silly all night. Remember?”

  “How can I forget. My butt hurt for days. But I didn’t complain, back for seconds the following night, as I recall.”

  “And the next and next.” We laughed, the memories horny and wanting.

  That night, of mind-blowing sensualness, of tireless hours fulfilling my cravings, ending my long journey of erotic and loving thoughts, remains engraved in my mind. The visions remind me of the thoughts roving impishly now, inflamed by him holding my cock down the ramp into the pool. We embrace and sink to our necks and cradle our heads as lips glide to touch, arms wander cooling skin and hands envelop tender parts, Vicious and Thug watchful above.

  Memories stir, of lathering him in gel in the shower cubicle. Of slinking my hands in the slimy, slippery, bubbly, sudsy goo, oozing the slushy stuff between my fingers, pampering his skin, imbibing his sensualness. Of sliding my hands and arms and legs around him, and rubbing chest and belly and bum against him and grinding my groin and cock on him. Of sinking my fingers and hardness down his crack and between his legs and cupping his balls before assaulting his hardened rod of over-stretched excitement. I recall body-painting the walls with our sexy sliminess, all washed away when I turn the water on.

  I remember drying his soft and smooth flesh, and towing him by his lusting, leaking cock to our bed, our phallic dementia shrieking for an end to the tensions, frustrations and deprivations. I can never forget that powering energy burning within us to end the months of lecherous fantasising and libido-driven desires and torments. I recall that dynamism sweeping us in a whirlwind to the plinth of ultimate gratification.

  He squealed delight when I scooped him in my arms, his legs kicking, his arms tight around my neck, lips crunching. I set him on the bed and laid on him, clenching him with arm and leg locks, tongues duelling, our hard cocks cushioning our bellies. He rolled over and straddled me, leaning forward, his hands resting on my shoulders, his eyes flaming his desires and intentions, his lips assaulting my face and neck.

  His rush of breaths intensified as they darted to suckle a nipple, and tongue danced my nub to elevated heights and hardness. Frenzied fingers ravaged my other nipple, sending warning signals buzzing in my groin. His instruments of orgasmic torture played havoc with my navel, erupting writhing quakes of sensitivity throughout my belly and groin. A hand caressed my balls, his tongue slid along my tumescence lying prostrate on my belly and returned, his lips enveloping and mouth swallowing my hardness, my brain exploding into kaleidoscopes of fireworks. I bit my knuckles and grabbed the doona, and cupped his face and clutched his hair and wallowed my head and moaned and groaned and stretched my feet and curled my toes as his purgatorial pleasuring overwhelmed conscious thinking.

  He rose to his knees, panting, his cock a rampant upright weapon of sexual intent. He leaned to the nightstand, returning with a condom and bottle. Minutes later he nestled in me, an expression of voluptuous delight blazing his face, reminiscent of my elation my first time.

  ****

  He lies between my legs on the couch, leaning on me, chuckling at times to the audio book’s recitation on his headphones, his cheerfulness rustling a tail or flickering an ear on Vicious and Thug lying alongside. Finishing my read, I roam my hands over his shoulders and chest, his flesh feeling vibrant and vital after the swim and shower, and quick frolic on the bed before dinner, exchanging ‘I love you’ again and again, promising to prove how much later.

  I cherish him, this gorgeous man, this treasure chest of love, now resting a hand on my arm, turning a smile to me. So often his quaint gesture reminds me of Leo patting my arm at that Sunday lunch, to learn, when Polly and Tony departed to walk Snowy, why friends were absent. I sat mute after Leo told me, then raged fury, bellowing my hatred and despair to the heavens, crying hysterically, shouting, fending off his placating embraces, dashing to my Harley, leaving Leo a broken man at the entrance. I remember somehow arriving home, and wailing all night, shunning phone calls and door thumps, feeling deceived and cheated, detesting the cruelty and despising the constant upheavals and knocks life dealt. All day I languished, sorrow calming me before guilt and betrayal of trust inflamed my shame, memories of my oath to Tony the day we met scorning me. I tapped his door in the summer evening and stepped into his understanding arms. The following morning, Leo’s grin engulfed his face when Tony and I boarded the shuttle together.

  “I’m so proud you accepted him to be your partner, despite his issues,” Leo confided after introducing me to the guests as Tony’s mate the following Sunday. He patted my arm, further stating his gratefulness for the love and the richness of life I brought to his son. I reminded him of the joy Tony gave me.

  Every day I reflect the wonderful adventure life has been together, of the dynamics of our friendship; the happiness, the love, the ever-ready companionship, feel-good reliance and the beautiful intimacy enjoyed. I recall his fears of callous bullying, of being mugged, unable to react swiftly to defend himself, of sustaining injury exacerbating and accelerating the onset of his inheritance, my mind determined to protect him. My thoughts evoke memories of those troubled emotions reflected in his eyes. They remind me of his
feelings he later expressed regretting the gift life will take, yet accepting his fate, humbly, without anger or bitterness.

  “Retinitis Pigmentosa. Tunnel Vision.” Leo stated that devastating day, confiding Tony is expected to succumb to permanent blindness within three years. Days later, after I reaffirmed my indelible vow to Tony, Leo announced his plan to immediately build a stair-less, safe, blind-friendly home, “so Tony can acquaint to the room and furniture layouts.”

  Affections bloom as I view the naked majesty of my soul mate, serene in his favourite couch position, forever enchanted by his beauty, always awed by his sweet nature. “Time for bed, angel,” I announce, massaging his shoulders. “Time to let me ravish your wickedly sexy body, to remind you how much ‘I love you’.”

  THE END

  Author bio: Hi. I write mainstream m/m romance stories. ‘33 a gay love story’ is my first m/m work which I self published in 2010. Umm, since writing ‘33’ I have considerably reduced the sex content in my stories, preferring to evoke emotions rather than graphically describe actions.

  I hope to find a publisher for a subsequent, completed novella, ‘Boyfriends Paul & Sam’, the first of a line I intend writing under the ‘Boyfriends’ title.

  I am proud to have participated in the M/M Romance Group’s ‘It Gets Better’ video. My contribution indicates a little of my background.

  Website: www.33agaylovestory.com

  ‘It Gets Better’ Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uLrUv0dWT...

  GR blog, excerpts etc.: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/444...

  Email: jjsouth33 at gmail dot com

  Hope you enjoy ‘Reflections’.

  Cheers from Downunder.

  Zach Sweets – LUSCIOUS LOVE (Coming out/Food Kinky)

  Selected by Zach Sweets

  Dear Author,

  With that unholy gleam in his eye and all that luscious chocolate, I NEED to know what this hunk is up to. Can you please help me find out?

  [PHOTO: Handsome, scruffy looking man with a hand covered in chocolate and a sensual silver-eyed stare. He is licking chocolate off of his index finger.]

  Sincerely,

  Wendy

  Genre: contemporary

  Tags: Food Kinky, Coming Out, Bear, Deaf, Disability

  Words: 6,447

  LUSCIOUS LOVE

  by Zach Sweets

  Wendell Choate shielded his sterling silver eyes from the bright sunlight as he breathed in the powerful salty scent in the air. He ran his fingers through his wavy chestnut brown hair as he enjoyed the ocean waves splashing against the shore. People played and laughed in the water. Watching them was a pleasure and helped to alleviate some of the sorrow Wendell felt as he sat alone in the sand.

  He’d been struggling to find a job since he got laid off a year ago. The beach was the only place he could go to find peace. He had been surviving on the small income he got from Social Security and Disability. It was enough to pay his rent, but there wasn’t much left over for his other bills.

  His resume was good enough that he’d received several phone calls regarding job interviews. Once they found out that he was Deaf, they politely declined. It was discrimination, but Wendell would rather work for someone who wasn’t so closed minded, so he’d decided not to report them. He just wanted a job where he could be happy.

  Wendell scanned the newspaper he’d brought with him and a new job captured his attention.

  Luscious Love

  Help Wanted

  Must know chocolate

  Contact Caleb Adams at (800) 555-1462 for an interview

  Wendell instantly wanted that job. Chocolate was an addiction to him, a personal stress-reliever. He grabbed his iPhone and used the Video Relay application to call Caleb. No one answered, so he left a message, hoping Caleb would call him back.

  While waiting for the return call, he spotted a man in a dark blue Speedo. Wendell could see a well-defined bulge through the clingy material. Even better, a thick mat of hair covered the man’s chest. It’d been too long since Wendell had gotten laid. Just the sight of the man made his mouth water.

  As the man walked by, smiling at him, Wendell reached absently for his phone. He searched his pocket as he watched the man disappear down the beach and nearly freaked out when he realized the cell was missing.

  He scurried around, searching his other pocket, finally finding it on the ground beside him. He checked to see if there were any missed calls.

  He had one.Shit. Luckily, whoever called had left a message.

  He opened the video mail and watched as the interpreter signed,

  -Hello Wendell, this is Caleb Adams from Luscious Love. I got your message about the job interview. I’m available tomorrow at noon. Call me back if you can’t make it; otherwise, I’ll see you tomorrow.-

  Wendell jumped with joy, drawing people’s attention. Some threw him dirty looks, probably wondering what the heck was going on with him. He shrugged them off; he was so happy to have gotten a job interview at a chocolate place. Maybe he’d get to sample everything once he got there.

  He was too excited to just go home, so he walked to the street where all the touristy shops decorated the strip, looking for Luscious Love. He wanted to prepare himself for his interview tomorrow. There was no way he could afford to screw up his dream of a job surrounded by chocolate.

  Finally, he saw it. The rich, warm tones of the façade, together with the wide windows, hinted at the decadence that was sure to decorate the shelves inside. He already pictured himself working there, standing behind the counter, looking out at the adorable shop and the stream of endless chocolate lovers flowing through the door. Paradise.

  Through the window he spied a tall, bald man with a full beard. From what he could see, the man was just his type—broad shoulders and heavy muscles. The man was wiping down counters, probably getting ready to close up for the night. If it was Caleb, Wendell couldn’t wait to meet him in person. He couldn’t wait to get a closer view of the man’s face. A bear man and chocolate? He smiled at the thought. Nothing better.

  It was getting dark and with a start he realized that it was almost seven o’clock. He rushed back home and laid out the professional suit he planned to wear for the interview. After getting everything ready, he curled up on his bed and tried to sleep but couldn’t—he was too excited. He went over all the questions he’d been asked on interviews in the past, such as his strengths, weaknesses, why he wanted the job, and so on.

  It was midnight before he finally felt confident with his answers and fell asleep.

  He woke up still excited about the interview, but slowly the feeling changed from happiness to nervousness. What if he didn’t get the job? His heart would be broken. Stay positive, Wendell. He got out of the bed and went into the bathroom to do his business.

  Wendell turned on the shower and felt the water until it was lukewarm. He stepped under the spray, enjoying the sensation of the water running over his body. Suddenly his cock was hard as hell. He moaned as he slowly touched it.

  He soaped his body really well but leaned away from the stream of water as he started to jerk off, using the slippery soap as lubrication. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander to his newest fantasy, one which involved Caleb (if that’s who the bear man even was) and he, himself, could hear.

  “Hey sugar, you’re looking sexy tonight.” Caleb complimented as he joined Wendell in the shower, pressing against him for a long, sweet kiss.

  Wendell murmured against Caleb’s mouth, “So are you, sexy.”

  The water poured down on Caleb as they continued kissing, tongues wrestling, hands touching all over each other, and cocks rubbing together.

  Wendell moaned loudly, body jerking as he increased his speed. He continued imagining himself being touched by Caleb.

  Caleb stopped kissing, sliding down onto his knees, the water splashing on his head. He opened his mouth and guided Wendell’s dick in. Wendell shouted, a stream of babble leaving his mouth after feeling the
amazing warmth inside Caleb’s mouth.

  Wendell started to fuck Caleb’s face fast and hard. Caleb took it all with no signs of gagging. It was as if Wendell’s cock was made for his throat.

  Wendell’s legs became wobbly as he approached his orgasm. As the fantasy continued, he wished he could shoot in Caleb’s mouth.

  “I’m gonna come.” Wendell barked as he pressed the back of Caleb’s head, his cock all the way inside Caleb’s throat. Caleb accepted it all, swallowing around him.

  Wendell shot hard against the shower wall, his legs nearly giving out on him. His head was dizzy with a crazy sex high. “Oh, Caleb.” He sighed deeply, wishing it was real.

  After the long, hot, steamy shower, Wendell ate breakfast, brushed his teeth, and got dressed. He strolled down the beach toward Luscious Love. He kissed a piece of chocolate mint hard candy for good luck then popped it into his mouth, saying a little prayer to himself that he’d get the job.

  His heart fluttered as soon as he saw the store. He hated to be so nervous, afraid of being rejected due to his deafness. He was a little early so he slowed his pace a bit, giving himself a chance to calm down. There were still butterflies battling in his stomach as he approached the shop. He took a deep breath and knocked softly on the door.

  No answer. He knocked little harder. The sign on the door indicated that the shop was closed every Sunday. When there wasn’t an answer, he knocked again. Had Caleb forgotten about the interview? He wondered, feeling paranoid.

  At last, the door opened and it was the same man from last night. Up close, he was even better, with gorgeous bright blue eyes and straight, white teeth that showed as he smiled. As Caleb gestured him inside, Wendell said, “I’m here for a job interview.” Since he couldn’t hear himself talking, he wasn’t sure if he said the words correctly, which made him nervous, but from the look on Caleb’s face, he could see that Caleb understood.

  Caleb started to speak, apparently assuming that if Wendell could talk, then he’d understand him as well. Wendell was having a hard time trying to read Caleb’s lips, though. He held out a hand and said, “Hold on.” He fished out the notepad and pen he carried in his pocket and wrote, ‘I’m sorry, you talked a little too fast. I can talk but I don’t read lips that well.’ Wendell hoped it wouldn’t affect the interview.

 

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