Five Boroughs 01 - Sutphin Boulevard (15 page)

“Damn, it’s cold out here.”

I nodded but didn’t feel it. It was after two in the morning, but crowds of people stood in front of restaurants and bars along Eighth Avenue. I nearly asked Nunzio if he wanted to get a drink or go dancing, but got tongue-tied when I noticed his eyes locked on me. It was the first indicator that this was going to veer off into the land of
complicated
really fast.

We stopped to wait for the light and I shot him a nervous smile.

“So what do you want to do?” he asked.

A flood of taxis rushed by, lights flashing in the darkness and nearly blinding me. I looked away, back down the street and toward a large gay sports-themed bar that had just opened.

“I could go for another drink.”

“We could just pick up some bottles at the liquor store and go to my place.”

“We could pick up another little friend.”

“What do I need someone else for? I got you.”

I turned my head so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash. He looked serious and a little annoyed.

“You had fun last time.”

“Mikey, I thought you were cool with this. If I wanted some little twink, I’d have stayed with David. You know?”

“Yeah, but are we seriously just going to your place to screw around?”

“Yes.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re such a horndog.”

Nunzio shrugged, unashamed, and snagged my hand. “Come on, gorgeous. It’s so much better when it’s just us. We can just get off and then we can chill. Sex without the song and dance and having to spend a fortune on drinks.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing, opting to cross the street when the cars stopped. It was more than a little absurd that I couldn’t bring myself to discuss the situation when I’d just had my tongue in his mouth, but it was different when we were out in the real world.

He didn’t let go of my hand, and I didn’t pull away, so we wound up walking to his door looking like we were about to go skipping through a field with flowers in our hair. I was momentarily embarrassed when his neighbor ran into us and gave Nunzio a knowing grin.

Once we entered his apartment, déjà vu hit me like a mallet, and I saw myself stumbling into the dark living room on wobbly legs before throwing myself on top of Nunzio as he slept on the sofa. Flashes of wet mouths and soft gasps accosted me, and the memory of my name dripping from Nunzio’s mouth in a sultry groan rang in my ears.

Swallowing, I snuck a glimpse of him in the dark, but he was just a rangy form moving through the apartment before jerking the cord on a lamp. Golden light flooded the room.

Nunzio kicked off his boots. “So what are you in the mood for?”

“Regarding what?”

“Regarding alcohol.” Nunzio shrugged off his leather jacket, then took mine, and threw them over the back of an armchair. “How drunk do you need to be right now?”

“What do you mean?”

“It means whatever you want it to mean, Mikey.” Nunzio dropped onto the couch, extending his legs in front of him and folding his arms behind his head. “How drunk do you need to be for your best friend to rail you?”

There was an implication in there that was wearying. I just shrugged and watched him snag a bottle and two shot glasses from the bar. It was not more than a narrow, beat-up cabinet wedged between the wall and the door leading to his bedroom, but Nunzio had arranged the bottles inside with meticulous precision.

“You cool with vodka?”

“I guess. Especially since you’re trying to imply I need to be drunk to get it on with your ugly ass.”

“Oh, screw you.”

“I’m so serious.”

Nunzio flipped me off and poured two shots. We downed them, and I nearly gagged. It was sweet.

“Ugh.”

“Want me to change it up?”

I smacked my lips, tilting the bottle so I could see the flavor. Coconut.

“It’d be better with some pineapple juice, but it’s fine if we’re going for gayest drinks ever.”

“Shut the hell up.” Nunzio watched me measure out the next set of shots. “So you really never thought about having sex with me?”

“Not really.”

“Seriously?” He threw back the next shot. “What about when we sleep next to each other or whatever? All those times we wound up in the same bed on a trip or even after going out drinking?”

“Nope.”

Nunzio’s brow knitted together. “When we used to pick up guys and spend the whole night wrecking them in the same room?”

“Nope.”

He seemed so disbelieving that I chortled, sliding my shot glass back onto the coffee table. “I’m not joking. I never considered it before we had that threesome with David.”

“That’s messed up.”

“How the hell is that messed up?”

“Because, that makes it seem like you don’t find me attractive or something.” Nunzio jutted his chin at me. “That ain’t what you’re saying, is it?”

It was tempting to say yes and make up some flaws about him, but I just waved him off. “We’ve been friends since I had braces and you had acne. I didn’t see you that way for a long time. You remember how weirded out we both were after kissing in middle school.”

“Uh, yeah, that was before I knew how to use my dick.”

Even while flipping a shot glass between his long fingers, Nunzio’s features were creased in an accusatory glare.

“Are you really that offended?”

“Hell yeah. You’re trying to play me.”

I snickered again. “You need to relax.”

“Who’s not relaxed?” Nunzio put the shot glass on the table with a
thunk
. “I’m fine. Just wondering where your head is.”

Unconvinced, I spread my hands. “Anything else to this inquisition?”

“Yeah. You said you never thought about it before this summer, so what about after?”

I’d backed myself into a corner with that admission, and the sharklike smile sliding over Nunzio’s face made it obvious he’d clued in to that same detail.

“I thought about it sometimes.”

“What’d you think about?”

A tableau of pornographic stills flitted through my mind like a slideshow on fast forward, but I hesitated to say which one I’d gotten off to for the past three months. Especially since I’d analyzed each one while naked under my ceiling fan and fucking myself with a dildo.

“C’mon,” he cajoled. “I’m curious. If you never considered touching me before that night, there must have been something that stood out. Like for me….” Nunzio raised one broad shoulder, face intent and one hand curling around the edge of the couch cushion. “I kept thinking about you sucking on my fingers and grinding back on me like you wanted my dick.”

“I did.” The words were out before I could stop them, but his eyes were hypnotizing me. “I wanted you in my ass. I thought about you shooting inside me all summer.”

“Yeah?” His voice was so low and husky I barely heard it over a fire truck careening down the street outside.

“Yes. I hardly even let Clive fuck me raw.”

One of his hands dropped to his crotch, squeezing and adjusting his dick. It was an unconscious gesture, but I could see the outline of his cock snaking down the thigh of his jeans. My mouth went dry.

“You like it raw, Mikey?”

“With you I do.”

“Mmm.”

Nunzio slumped down on the sofa, spreading his thighs wide and giving me a better view. The slow slide of his smile and the twitch of his eyebrows were so arrogant that I wanted to laugh him off, but my dick throbbed at the sight, demanding stimulation and diverting all coherent thought to its needs.

I grabbed the vodka and poured another couple of shots. I shoved one in his face and the clear liquid sloshed over the rim and onto my hand. When Nunzio declined to take it, I pushed it to his mouth and forced his head back until his lips parted.

He drained the glass and dropped it on the table before turning his face to lick the spilt vodka off the back of my hand. Nunzio closed his fingers around my arm, kissing up higher until his mouth warmed the inside of my wrist.

“Nunzio, don’t be a weirdo.”

It was meant to be light, a way to laugh him off, but my voice dropped an octave. His only response was to part his lips wider so the warm wetness of his mouth enveloped my skin before he pulled away with a sucking sound.

“Come on, Mikey,” he said. “It’s just us. No one watching. No one’s going to find out.” He shifted so he could straddle me and hold my shoulders against the back of the couch. “Just have fun with me. No one’s gonna know.”

“It’s not that.” I swallowed again, and my eyes slid shut when he dove in, mouth attacking my throat and sucking on the bobbing lump of my Adam’s apple. “Jesus Christ, Nunzio. What’s with you?”

His tongue dragged along the rough stubble on my throat. “Just really horny, and you’re right here. And I haven’t stopped thinking about stretching that ass out since July.”

His hand slid between us, massaging the hard length in my jeans. I groaned.

“I like when you make noise,” Nunzio whispered. He pressed down harder, drawing another gasp out of me. “Sexy motherfucker.”

“You’re so full of shit,” I whispered, arching up.

“I’m speaking facts, son. You have no idea what you do to me.”

I tilted my head back to look up at him, but his face was cast mostly in shadow.

“Nunzio, this is just fucking, right?”

Nunzio’s hips jutted forward, and the movement sent zings of fire spreading through my nervous system, making my toes curl.

He dipped down again and this time his mouth latched onto the side of my neck. The sound that poured from my mouth was uncontainable, but I tried anyway, biting my lower lip.

“Yeah,” he murmured.

I clamped my hands onto his hips, guiding him faster. “You swear?” I gritted, releasing my savaged lip.

“I swear.”

The words were muffled in a flurry of movement. Nunzio slid off my lap and evaded my desperate, grasping hands. With rough, impatient motions, he wrenched me around, undid my belt and fly, and pushed me down with my arms digging into the back of the sofa. The blunt edges of his fingernails dug into my skin when he tugged down my jeans. He let out an annoyed growl when they caught around my boots and tossed them aside before arranging me on the couch so my knees were bent and my ass was sticking out.

The sound of him panting and swearing, so impatient to touch me, to fuck me, caused everything I had been trying to hold back to release in a trickle of precome from the tip of my cock. I pressed my mouth to the microfiber fabric and rocked against the throw pillow that was trapped between my abdomen and the back of the couch.

The fire in my gut threatened to spread, and overtook me until my hand twitched with the need to grab my dick. I gripped the cushion with clawed fingers to prevent jerking off even though the throb was unbearable.

Behind me, I heard the metallic glide of a zipper, the thud of clothes hitting the floor, rustling, and the jingle of keys.

“What—”

Something cold and gooey slid down the cleft of my ass. I recoiled in surprise and hoped that he had lube or lotion in his backpack because using hand sanitizer to slick up wasn’t my idea of a good time.

I planted one foot on the floor for leverage when he splayed me open and rubbed my pucker with the pad of his thumb. My ass clamped up, resisting the sudden intruder. He replaced it with the blunt tip of his cock, and the part of me that was starved for contact—for a hard, thorough pounding—crested. I pushed back on him and bit the sofa’s padding as the sweet burn of him sliding home overshadowed the ache of my cock.

“Yeah,” he uttered, freezing in place once he was fully sheathed in my ass.

Nunzio sucked in deep, shaky breaths while allowing me to adjust to his girth. But I didn’t want to wait.

The feel of him raw and buried balls deep was like a drug. I couldn’t think straight, and I couldn’t react to anything but the unquenching desire to be ridden without any consideration or care.

I took the initiative and flexed my ass around his dick. Nunzio dug his fingers in tighter before slamming me back with a rough pull that descended into a brutal railing. He punched into my ass so hard it seemed he would screw me through the couch.

The constant mash of pressure against my hole made me see stars, and was intensified by my dick grinding along the pillow. It shouldn’t have been enough to make me peak, but I could feel it coming in the way the flames licked up from my balls, spread to my belly, and turned me into a babbling mess.

A mantra of
right there
and
yes
filled the room while I clutched the sofa with one hand and reached back to grip his thigh with the other. I tried to guide him faster, but my hand slipped on his sweaty flesh, so I settled for ramming myself back on his cock.

The repeated words lapsed into a series of senseless groans, and the fabric beneath my gaping mouth grew damp from drool. I didn’t care. I had no shame. I didn’t even know who I was anymore, because Nunzio’s gorgeous cock was nailing my prostate over and over until the combination of such sweet precision and the friction of my erection against the pillow caused me to seize up with a strangled shout.

I felt the orgasm approaching, but I wasn’t prepared for the hands-free eruption that led to me shooting all over his sofa with a wild cry. I blanked out in a daze of boneless limbs and tingling nerves, and returned to reality once Nunzio pulled out.

I expected to feel the warm spatter of his jizz on my ass, but Nunzio manhandled me onto my back and splayed my thighs open wide enough for them to burn. He slid back into me and I spread my knees as wide as possible, steadying one foot against the coffee table, and replicated the filthy smile he’d given me earlier that night.

I watched his face flush darker and could tell he was about to bust. I knew it by the way his cock pulsed, the way his fingers tightened hard enough to break capillaries beneath my skin, and from the steady stream of nonsense he guttered out.

“Your ass feels so fucking good.”

I tightened up around his cock, and he tilted his head forward. Sweat dripped down to my chest.

“Yeah—oh
fuck
, squeeze that dick, Mikey.”

Nunzio’s hips battered my ass. He didn’t try to swallow the rising volume of his voice as I did my best to rip the orgasm out of him. When he came, he filled me deep while moaning my name so beautifully that I had the senseless urge to drag him down and suck his tongue into my mouth.