by J P Sayle
Martin nuzzled into Brad’s neck, inhaling his unique smell. Brad’s hair teased his nose. Martin tightened his embrace as the awareness between them grew. It was charged now by other needs. Understanding grief, Martin knew this was not the time for more, even if their bodies had other ideas.
Easing away a little, he traced his lips up Brad’s neck, then jaw, seeking the ripe sweetness. Breathless in seconds, mouths met, tongues duelled. The usual ripe cherry flavour got lost under the fragrant richness of the tomato and garlic sauce. Inflamed by the taste, his tongue searched for what it wanted. Mindless, he slid his heated, swollen lips over the erotic wetness of Brad’s mouth. His cock throbbed as images of Brad’s wet mouth encasing him drove him wild.
His chest heaved, and he cursed his lack of control. Martin drew back. Brad’s glazed eyes were almost disbelieving when Martin stood and lowered him to the floor. As he retreated, Martin’s hands twitched when Brad’s eyes implored him to continue.
“Eh, that was a great meal. I am going to head home now as I have a few things to catch up on before tomorrow.” Liar, liar, pants on fire. The childhood words made his face burn from his obvious lie. Martin bent quickly. His lips grazed Brad’s. “Sleep well, baby.” His body vibrated, pulsing with need, but he stepped away.
Martin hesitated as Brad moved to follow. The front door key appeared stuck as Martin’s fingers slipped. He sighed in relief as it opened, and he attempted a final smile through gritted teeth. The naked lust on Brad’s face was making it harder to keep to his word.
Giving one last smile, Martin stalked home, muttering as he readjusted his aching cock. “Soon, soon. It better be soon, or else I am going to have bloody blue balls.” Each step reminded him of what he had left behind.
Brad
Water crested as the pot landed. Looking down in disgust, Brad saw his T-shirt clung to his chest and stomach. Pulling his hands out of the soapy water, he grabbed the tea towel. What the fuck had happened?
He bent to mop the floor. It took a moment to realise he was using his tea towel. He was so lost in his temper that the screech shocking the silence had his head bouncing off the counter as he stood. “Fucking hell!” Fingers gingerly felt for a lump.
As he searched for the culprit, his eyes met a sodden Princess. Oops.
Laughter bubbled, matching the bubbles that now sat on top of her head. Princess looked bedraggled as her blue eyes pierced him. Struggling to contain the laughter, he forget his earlier anger. “What’s the matter, Princess? It’s only a little soapy water.” He looked at the tea towel and shrugged. Why not?
He approached with caution. Princess could get in a sneaky swipe when she was pissed off. Brad knew he was failing to look contrite. His eyes danced with merriment when she squirmed under the tea towel. The anticipated swipe caught his jeans. “Now come on, I didn’t mean to wet you, Princess. Did you see what he did?” Brad’s earlier anger came back with a vengeance.
His finger wagged in Princesses face. “He kissed me, sucked on my bloody lip like it was a lollipop, got me all hot and bothered. Then he strolls the fuck out the door.” His voice quivered with righteous anger. Brad was unaware his shoulders rolled as he stood up preparing to fight. Brad’s hands waved around in temper.
Princess stared in wonder.
“Then he’s all holding and cradling me, offering support and being all loving. Then we’re kissing again, and my brain all but turns to mush. I was sure it was leaking out of my ears! I’m thinking we’re getting to naked. Happy time. Okay, I was a little upset about Gran and then worried about naked time. But I would have gone with it if he had encouraged me. But no.” Growling, Brad punched the air in frustration. “Instead he says see you later, I have work to do!” As he shouted out the final statement, Princess couldn’t help but preen.
The chair scraped across the floor; Princess jumped back out of the way. Words assailed the air, “Shit, shit, shit, crap!” Bending, he rubbed his foot. Maybe kicking the chair wasn’t his greatest idea.
Princess’s “what the fuck” look as he hobbled to the chair didn’t help. “What is wrong with me? Why didn’t he want to stay?” He glared hard at Princess, and the telltale glitter made his eyes gleam with unshed tears. Pushing at his jeans, Brad wasn’t sure which throbbed the most, his cock or his foot. One thing he did know, a distraction would help. As Princess was being all high and mighty, it was up to him.
Sighing, he ignored Princess’s smirk and hobbled out of the kitchen. As the stairs creaked underfoot, the familiar sound helped calm Brad. Regarding his home, Brad wondered what Martin had thought. He’d raved about the kitchen and garden, but he’d said very little about the rest.
He had wanted to keep as close to the original, except for the windows and doors. He craved the light. He’d blended the old with new pieces. He was not sure if Martin had even come upstairs. He didn’t think so because he surely would have mentioned the flowers that had pride of place next to his bed.
Gobsmacked, Brad had checked four times the delivery guy had the right address. Preening, he’d gushed over them. Mortified, the guy had all but thrust them into his hands, practically tripping over his feet to escape.
Yellow roses reminded him of an aromatic air freshener. The flowery scent was subtle yet fragrant and wafted on the breeze that came from his open bedroom window. Curtains fluttered as the breeze picked up. Shutting out the cold, he didn’t want the chilly evening invading the warmth of the room.
He caught sight of the bedside cabinet, and colour flooded his face as he thought of what he’d put in the drawer. Anger simmered at the wasted trip to the shops. His plans were screwed.
Confused, he threw himself on the bed. Had the talk of death upset Martin? They talked of the recent death of his parents on Sunday. He’d not sensed any distress, but maybe he’d missed it.
As he rubbed his face, his hands caught in his hair. “Christ!” He couldn’t wait to get it cut. Pulling his hands away and turning, he rested them on his stomach. “Eww.” Shivering, Brad plucked off the wet T-shirt and quickly rolled off the bed. It landed with a heavy plop on the floor while Brad frantically searched the bed for dampness. “Thank God.” Relief hissed out. His gran would have given him what for if he’d ruined the handmade quilt. The last gift she had given him, little memories sown into each square.
Brad caught a movement out the side of his eyes. He stared at the window. Had the curtain moved? What on earth! The hair on his body rose in alarm. He’d shut the window, hadn’t he? Brad jumped away from the bed like a guilty child. His eyes darted to the window and then the door.
Trembling, he moved cautiously to the door. He peered out, waiting a beat before pulling back. The silliness hit. He shook his head in disgust. He was imagining things now! He stalked to the bathroom, where the distinct scent of washing detergent wafted up. Shit, he needed a shower.
As he undressed, his jeans caught on his still erect cock. How had he missed that? The question was could he do something about it? Previous failures worried at him, and he gnashed his lip. He watched the waving pole between his legs. It seemed to think he could.
Memories of Martin’s wet hot mouth helped him. The little metal bars that had rubbed against his body when he’d held him tight. The nipple piercing, not something he’d encountered before, had his naked cock dripping at the possibilities.
Questions flooded his mind. Would the metal taste coppery? Would they be cool against his tongue or warm from Martin’s body heat? Brad’s thoughts had him reach out. He gripped the sink as he panted through the urge to come. Overwhelmed, his balls tried to disappear into his body. Lube, he needed lube, like now.
Brad staggered into the bedroom, launched across the room, and grappled with the drawer, pulling out the lube. Clumsy fingers had liquid squirting everywhere. Using the slick, his fingers slithered across his stomach. His legs weakened, making him land hard on the mattress. His fingers stroked the sensitive head of his cock. He didn’t stop teasing himself. He tugged and twiste
d. His breath escaped through gritted teeth as his fingers grazed the bundle of nerves just under the blushing head.
Words tumbled past his dry lips. “Hmmm… oh God, feels so good… oh that, right there.” Hips thrust as his fingers slipped further down towards his aching hole. He remembered the feel of Martin’s finger breaching him. The oil had eased the burn, waking nerves he’d not realised were there.
Sweat coated his body as he teased his pucker while slicked fingertips glided like Martin’s tongue had. “Shit!” He was unable to control himself as the thought took hold, making his sac rise. His strangled screams filled the air as cum launched, splattering his chest, dripping from his chin, and catching in his hair. Head pounded. Brad gasped as his body quaked. Was this what it felt like after an earthquake?
Remembering what Martin had done on FaceTime, he let his fingers trace cum. He lifted his hand for a taste. He swallowed and let the bitterness coat his tongue. The urge grew stronger. He looked at his other fingers, and giving in, he sucked them clean. It begged the question would Martin taste the same?
Goosebumps alerted to the cooling cum. Could he move? As he lifted his legs, he was pleased he could still feel them. Giggles erupted as he looked down. What a mess.
He slid carefully of the bed. “Eeew.” His hands attempted to catch the drips as he raced full throttle into the bathroom. With a quick glance back at the carpet, he muttered, “Thank God.” How the hell did you explain that kind of mess?
Scraping nails had him cringing. He cast a furtive look sideways. Her evil stink eye glared back. “If you didn’t want to see, then you shouldn’t have come upstairs. It’s not like I am doing anything wrong. You’re the pervert for spying in the first place.” The accusatory tone had her sitting with unblinking eyes staring at him. Brad knew he was fighting a losing battle, but he was not willing to give in. Feeling his eyes twitch after thirty seconds, he threw up his hands and stormed into the shower. How the hell could you win a staring contest with a bloody cat!
The warmth flooded him. Thinking about Martin’s pleased expression when he found his waxed sac made Brad realise it was that time again. Plucking at his lip, he became lost in thought.
Would he like it all bare? His cock nestled at the moment in soft blond curls. He trimmed to keep them tidy, but it was the only hair he had on his body. His chest had never had any, and the rest he waxed. He liked the smoothness, and he wasn’t disappointed to find Martin liked it too. His bare skin glowed from the sun. The lack of tan lines was evidence of his privacy.
Could he go completely bare? Would Martin be up for that? He glanced at the cabinet. He coped with the pain of his balls and arsehole. This shouldn’t be much different. Understanding the principles, he warmed to the idea as he dried off.
Checking his kit, he set up as he waited for wax to heat. He glanced at Princess, arching his brow. “What?”
Trying not to overthink it, he started to trim excess hair. He noticed his hands shook as he got closer to his cock. The nervous giggle had him gazing at Princess. “If you leave too much length on the hair, it stops the wax from getting a good grip.” Brad chuckled nervously at the alarmed look in Princess’s eyes.
“Come on, you know I do this all the time. It’s just you never stay in here normally when I am naked.” Feeling a little intimidated when Princess plonked her bottom down, Brad watched her eyes travel to his hands. The urge to cover made his hands twitch as heat blossomed. Don’t look at her, don’t look at her. He prowled to the cabinet and snatched up the spatula.
Shaking his arms, he took a calming breath. He checked the heat. The last thing he wanted was to burn his balls. Going with the familiar first was no effort at all. Breath wheezed out as Brad’s arsehole stung a little. Panting through the pain, okay that wasn’t too bad.
A chuffing noise had him glancing up. Princess had buried her tiny face in her front paws. Amused by her antics, he absently spread the heated wax on the base of his cock. Heat spread and warmed, making his skin tingle and pulse. The arousal was a little off-putting and had him wafting his hands.
“Crap. Now is not the time for an erection.” Realising the wax was cooling with his actions, Brad pulled the strips quickly out of the wrappers. His fingers fumbled around his erect cock. Brad let his breath escape as he finished. Clock watching, he counted the minutes. Shaky fingers approached the first strip. He hesitated. “You can do it. Come on.” The words had him looking about. Seconds ticked by before realizing he was talking to himself.
Shaking his head in disgust, he didn’t think and ripped off the first strip. White heat surged and flicked his brain into overdrive as the pain registered. A piercing howl filled the air. Brad watched in slow motion as Princess sprang up into the air and land on her back legs. Hackles were standing straight up. The loud growl she made had him stepping back. One foot caught on the towel as the second slipped on the tiles that were wet from his earlier shower. Arms flailing, he only found air. Air whooshed out as the floor shuddered as his head and backside connected at the same time.
Loud squeaking met his ears as words flew. “Fuck, fuck, shit, bastard. I think I’ve broken my arse.” His hands scrambled, unsure which part to touch. Pain morphed. His head, arse, and cock pounded in time. Gasping, Brad lowered his head and tried to catch his breath. His eyes watered.
He squinted up at Princess. “You. Did. That. On. Purpose. Didn’t. You?” Each word enunciated drilling holes. Her disdainful lip curl had burning rage run riot. Steam was surely coming out of his ears. His jaw ached. Brad eased up of the floor, holding the sink tight when his vision wavered. Grey spots floated before his eyes. Hissing, he prayed his insides would hurry and stop moving so violently.
As they started to settle, he opened his eyes, scowling, he searched for the culprit. Brad locked in on his target. “This is war.” Hunching, he walked bow-legged, moving carefully. The temptation to rub his arse was too much. There’d be a bruise for sure tomorrow. That’s if he hadn’t broken it. He pouted his lips. This was so not his fault. Oh no.
Walking with as much dignity as a bow-legged cripple could manage, Brad gingerly picked Princess and her cushion up. The edge of the remaining strips dug in, chafing his skin raw with each step, but anger had him keep moving. Unsure how the fuck he had gotten into this situation, he groused with each step.
“Argh, shit, that hurts.” Growling, he spread his legs further apart, and turning sideways, he shuffled out. His cheeks heated at how ridiculous he must look. He huffed in disgust. Naked, carrying a cat, with glued strips stuck to his cock! All he’d need now is for Martin to come back. Anxious thoughts assailed. He glanced at the stairs. Had he locked the front door? Alarm grew when he couldn’t remember.
“Oh my God,” he snarled. He all but threw Princess into the spare room and signalled for her to stay put. “I didn’t ask you to come into the bathroom, well, did I? You can ignore me all you want, but don’t forget who feeds you.” Each word punched the air as anger built at the injustice. “I may let you out when I have finished, if you’re lucky. You are supposed to be my friend, so start acting like it.” The loud crack of the door slamming felt good as he ran to the stairs.
Wheezing, cock slapping, balls thwacking. Panic overrode his aches and pains. Tightness gripped his chest as hands fidgeted with the locks. Sagging against the door in relief, he yelled as cold penetrated past his panic. Shivers wracked his now freezing body. Sobs choked past the lump. This was so not sexy. John Wayne after he’d gotten off his horse hadn’t looked this bad. He sniffled and carefully went back upstairs.
His stomach churned. He swallowed the bitter, acrid taste as it burned his nose. Sweat dripped onto his chest. Pain radiated. How much could a body endure? Blindsided by this sudden thought, he cringed as thoughts flooded. Their greedy fingers tried to pull him back in the past.
“No, no, no. This is different. Goddammit!” His vision shimmered as tears fell, ignoring the trembling hands. “Two strips. That’s all that’s left. Come on, you can do
it.” Warbling, the despondent sound had him taking a couple of breaths. Gearing himself up, he perched on the edge of the seat next to the bath.
Despair had eyes glued to the strips. The inhale wailed out as strips hit the tiles in disgust. He puffed, gasping for air. Words stuck as white heat blew his mind to smithereens. Who thought this was a bloody good idea?
Brad took stock as he finished. Everything hurt. He was one big nerve ending, battered by pain. Martin used those plump lips to entice him into utter madness along with flashing baby blue eyes. This was all his fault.
With a glare at his now flaccid cock. Brad couldn’t help but stare at the pink, chafed skin, and feel how his bottom throbbed in a very non-sexy way.
Struggling to get up, he cleaned off the remaining wax. The water stung his sensitive skin. His voice rang with conviction. “Never again. As I live and breathe, I will never do this again!” Wobbly legs barely held him as he crawled into bed. It was like feeling the after-effects of the waltzer ride when your system was unsure which way was up when it ended. Crap, even the sheets felt rough and the mattress too hard. Moaning, he turned sideways, legs spread-eagled, and hoped that eternal sleep would come and take him away from the torture he’d inflicted on himself.
He heaved a sigh as mewling broke the silence. Dumbstruck eyes darted to the door. Oh my God. Warily, he went and opened the door. Princess stalked out and her flinty stare had Brad shrinking back. Guilt swamped him. Oh dear. Ignoring his beseeching look, Princess stalked off. Feeling put upon, Brad watched her give him the “kiss my arse” walk.
“Why me, hey, that’s what I want to know. How the hell did I end up with you? I ask you. Now you have no one to blame but yourself, Princess. Your naughtiness got you in trouble. You could see and hear I was in pain! You purposefully made a noise frightening me half to death.” His angry voice faded as she ignored him.