Out of the Blues (7 page)

Mason rambled along in the old house, walking down hallways and flipping switches as he went. He knew where he was going and I followed because I was too tired and the flat beer seemed to say this was a good idea.

The living room was a hodge-podge of old furniture. The sofa looked like an antique until you noticed that it had no legs. Mason walked over to one of those old stereo systems that was hidden in a large cabinet. He flipped up the lid and static crackled in the room. He laughed. The sound was heartbreaking. I heard the scrape of a needle on vinyl and music floated softly around the room.

Bluesy rock with Cody Gillette’s voice reached out to seduce me back to my teens when I’d been so young and stupid. I got laid the first time listening to this song on the radio. He was that same guy from bible school. We parked out in the hayfield I’d worked in that afternoon helping bale. I let him fuck me over the tailgate of my step-daddy’s truck and I never saw him again.

I was pretty sure there was no alcohol left in this bottle of beer, but I sure as hell felt lightheaded as Mason swayed to the music, his willow lean body more graceful than any man I’d ever been with. His hair fought the loose bun he’d pulled it into. He looked so young and I wanted to go over and touch him.

I didn’t. I sat down on the legless sofa and sprawled. Using the floor as a table I watched Mason dance and wondered if he was doing that on purpose. Seducing me. He looked up at the dim light in the high ceiling and I saw the shimmer of old grief in his eyes.

“I found him, you know,” he said softly when the first song was over. “Harper stayed for cheer practice. I came home and he was just sitting in that chair.” He pointed to a recliner over by the fireplace. “He looked like he was asleep. This record was in the stereo. It was the one he released a year or so after he married Arden.” He shrugged as if it didn’t matter. That would have been around seven maybe eight years ago if I remembered correctly. “He was diagnosed with colon cancer and opted not to do anything about it. He didn’t tell anyone. He let his body consume him and neither one of us paid enough attention to know he was dying.”

“No wonder you never came back,” I said because there were places I could never go back to. Hell, I was living in a house that hurt me to even look at, but I couldn’t sell it because I’d lose the only link I had left with my mother. I picked the bottle up and drained it, finding what was left of the alcohol in the dregs at the bottom.

“That and a few other reasons.” He stopped swaying to the music and came over to sprawl on the sofa with me, his legs eating up more of the hardwood floor than mine did. He let out a long sigh as a blast of wind hit the side of the house. The electricity shimmered and winked. “We should go back before this storm really gets going.”

“We should,” I agreed. I wanted one more of the horse piss beers before I braved the rain. He didn’t move. I didn’t either.

I leaned my head on the back of the sofa and listened to the music. Letting my demons out would be a mistake. I was already walking the perimeter of the cage playing with the lock.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

I choked on my tongue at the question. He sounded bored. It sounded put on, his boredom, his indifference.

“No.” I didn’t lie. I didn’t want to fuck him. I wanted him to bend me over the arm of the sofa and hold me down and make me sweat out all of my demons.

“Okay,” he said. He sounded…indifferent. Completely indifferent, as if it didn’t matter if I did. Would he let me if I’d said yes?

“I wouldn’t have let you.” He shifted on the sofa and I had to fight not to react when his head landed on my thigh.

“I guess that answers your question, so why ask?” I waited for him to drape his feet over the arm of the sofa. His shoes hit the floor and I took that as permission to kick mine off.

“I don’t know.” He looked up at me, his gaze grazing mine and then drifting on to the ceiling and the old Edison style lightbulb that swung high up in the rafters. “I thought that’s what you’d want. I thought that would be your…thing.”

“Ah,” I said as I kicked off my left shoe. I shifted my hip and bent my leg under his head until he rested on my inner thigh. “No.”

“Because I’m straight?”

“Because you’re not willing,” I said, thinking of all the straight guys I’d been with. The ones I’d fucked so I wouldn’t get the reputation for being a fag. Only fags liked to be fucked. I closed my eyes and remembered it was a straight Marine who taught me how to deep throat a dick. Because that’s what we did to get us through. You could fuck any guy you wanted, sometimes unwilling. As long as you didn’t get caught liking it too much and then you were out.

“You give good head.”

“Speaking of head, I thought you had to take a piss?” I brushed his hair from his face for something to do. The music was getting to me.

He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he did. I was surprised at how deep his voice was when he let his guard down.

“Guess I forgot.”

“How do you forget a thing like needing to piss?” I pulled the elastic band from his hair and let it cascade over my hand. The strands felt like silk, I could stroke him for hours and not ever get enough.

“I have a condom in my pocket” He still watched the light swing. His voice had gone soft. “Some girl from back in school that I can’t remember slipped it in.”

“Condoms are good. Stay safe.” I had no clue what he wanted me to say.

“I didn’t even think about fucking her, you know,” he said, his gaze shifting to look at me before hastily averting to the ceiling.

“I didn’t know.” Did I need to know this now?

“I’ve never had…you know…” he sounded unsure now. Young. Very young. “No girl ever did that to me before.”

“Ah.” I understood now. The same reason straight men sought the company of another man. Because it was different, not necessarily better. “I’ve never had any complaints.”

“I can see why,” he said, his voice catching on a nervous laugh. “Why me?”

I suppose I wondered when we’d get to that. Talking about why I more or less forced my attention on him.

“Because you needed it. Because I needed it.” I didn’t know what to tell him. I don’t know why I hadn’t minded my own damned business, gotten dressed, and let him deal with it on his own. “I apologize.”

“No.” He rolled off the sofa and settled on his knees on the floor in front of me. “I mean, don’t apologize.”

I could only stare at him as he struggled with where to put his eyes and his hands. He seemed to come to some internal decision and laid a hand on my leg. He stroked my thigh and I went so fucking hard I couldn’t breathe.

“And if I was willing, would you want to fuck me?” I could see his pulse rabbiting at his throat. I wanted to lick that spot.

“No,” I said and felt my heart sink when disappointment crossed his face. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

He looked scared. I was still hard. I liked him scared. I was a sick twisted bastard.

“I don’t know what I want. I didn’t want that girl. I can’t stop thinking about…” He reached out and stroked my bottom lip. I shivered and licked the tip of his finger. “Do you want me?”

“Yes.” I couldn’t deny what I’d wanted since I first saw him early this morning.

“But you don’t want to fuck me?”

I grabbed his hand and dragged him off the floor and between my legs. I spread wide enough to hook my feet behind his knees, to hold him there. I gripped his wrist hard enough to piss him off.

“You’re a bastard, and you’re hurting me,” he said, getting angry. I could see the flecks of green and gold sparking in his moss brown eyes.

“Then make me stop,” I growled the words and his eyes grew wide. I kissed him then, hard, slamming our mouths together and snaking my tongue into his mouth just to hear him gasp.

Which he did, just before he grabbed my free hand and pinned it to the seat behind my head. I groaned.

“Is this what you like?” he asked me when he stopped struggling for breath. I released his other hand and he pinned both of mine together. Leaning over me, he pressed his body into mine and forced me to look up into his eyes. My heart beat faster than it should.

“It’s been a long time since I let someone fuck me,” I told him. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone.”

His breath caught in his throat. Comprehension dawned on him.

“You want me to fuck you?”

“That’s what straight guys do to fags, isn’t it?” Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. He let my wrists go. The tables had turned and he didn’t know how to follow along. “No strings, Mason. We both get laid. You don’t want one of these girls because they link you to this place. You get to find out what it feels like to fuck a man. I get fucked, we both go back to our lives after the wedding and we never have to see each other again.” I lay on the sofa under him. Legs sprawled on the floor, arms on the back of the seat where he’d put them. I felt my dick throb in my jeans. I let him see me like this. I wanted him to know I wouldn’t hurt him, and I wanted him to hurt me. “The condom lubricated?”

He seemed stunned. He shrugged. He didn’t pull it out to look. “There’s a bottle of oil in the kitchen,” he suggested. I’d seen it. I’d used Crisco before. Whatever it took. Didn’t think Mason would go in for spit roasting me.

“Get it.” I nodded toward the kitchen. “Bring back another one of those piss beers.” Because when this was over, I was going to drink every last one of them.

Chapter Ten

Mason gets a grip on the situation.

What the fucking hell was I thinking? I stood in the kitchen holding the half-empty bottle of vegetable oil. Was I seriously thinking about…holy fuck? Did vegetable oil degrade condoms like…holy fuck…I was about to fuck a dude. Not just any dude but a Marine who was built like a brick wall. With pretty eyes. My sister’s future brother-in-law.

I was fucking hard in my jeans.

When the fuck did I decide fucking a dude was on my list of turn-ons?

Oh but his tattoos. I wanted to see them all. I wanted to lick them, I wanted to…holy fuck.

I couldn’t do this.

Wind and rain pelted the house. Lightning streaked across the windows, illuminating the back yard for a brief second. Rain was coming down hard now. I didn’t know it was going to rain when I decided I wanted to see the house. I didn’t know we’d be here when the storm broke.

I did not want to try to drive the twelve or so miles back to the hotel in this mess.

I couldn’t catch my breath and my dick wasn’t interested in my freak-out when sex was on the table.

Well, on the sofa.

Spread out all over the sofa with his hands over his head and those hard thighs and his mouth…with Cody’s best getting laid record playing on the console.

Since fucking when did I have a thing for Marines? Holy fuck.

I stopped at the fridge and grabbed one of the last three beers. I popped the top off and drained the bottle.

Fuck, that was nasty.

I got the last two bottles and popped the lids off. Armed with old beer and old oil I walked back to the living room with hopes that Kilby had come to his senses and wasn’t…exactly where I left him: arms still on the back of the seat like I was pinning him there, his legs slightly spread as he sprawled waiting for me and watching the light swing from the ceiling.

My dick wanted out. It wanted out now.

When the fuck had my dick become sentient?

“Take your shirt off,” I heard myself say. Maybe I wanted to see what he would do if I got bossy. I could be very bossy. Never during sex, I was never bossy during sex. I usually left that to the girl. I usually let her guide me where she wanted me to be.

Maybe that’s why I didn’t get laid all that often. Maybe if I’d been the type to tell Glory exactly how much I wanted to lick her cunt then I’d have been the one she…he sat up on the sofa and pulled his shirt over his head and then went right back into the position I’d left him in. Except now he was looking at me and the bottles…I could see the outline of his dick in this jeans. It protruded from the waist band of his jeans and I forgot all about Glory and girls of any kind as my knees went weak.

What would he taste like?

He was tanned under his tats, his body hard packed in every way. He had rippling abs and a…and…holy fuck he was perfect. And he wanted me to fuck him.

“Are you going to stare at me all night?” he said quietly, and I jumped out of my skin.

“No, yes, I think I have a tattoo fetish that I wasn’t previously aware of,” I told him as I took the first step toward him. I was drawn to him. I couldn’t deny this anymore. Even before he’d sucked my brain out of my dick, I’d been mesmerized by him and I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing.

“No,
I
have a tattoo fetish.” He smiled that smile that lit up his whole face. Did he not know what smiling did to his eyes? “You just want to lick my tats.”

“Is there a difference?”

“Depends on if you get off on the pain of getting one.” He closed his eyes to almost slits as I stood over him, looking down on him.

“Do you get off on the pain when you get inked?” I’d heard that was a thing.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “I like pain Mason.”

I was about three seconds from coming in my jeans.

“I don’t think I can hurt you.”

He smiled again, but it wasn’t the same. It was rueful. Or something else. Something darker.

I shivered and dropped to my knees between his bare feet.

“You have pretty feet,” I said, setting the bottles on the floor.

“You have a foot fetish, too?”

This one I admitted to. “Yeah.” I thought about if for a moment. “Not to suck on. I like to look at feet. I’m weird, I guess.”

He nodded. He lay there, sprawled, relaxed and on edge at the same time. I could see his dickhead flaring above his jeans, the smear of his arousal on his belly.

“You don’t have to hurt me, Mason. I’m not asking for that.”

Okay. I shivered. What was he asking? God, I was so fucking hard I could feel the wet spot in my pants. I don’t recall ever feeling my own pre-come trickle down my leg before. At least, not while I was still dressed.

“Take off my jeans,” he said when I didn’t move to do anything.

He kept his arms safely on the back of the seat and watched me as I reached out with shaking fingers. I skimmed up the ridge beneath his zipper and his hips arched off the sofa. He moaned. I did it again, traced my fingers over his zipper just to watch him react.

“God, that’s…incredible,” I whispered in awe at the flush of lust as it raced over his chest and up to his face. The puddle of pre-come on his belly made a slow stream down his side. If I didn’t get my dick out of my pants I was going to need clean clothes just to walk back into that fucking hotel.

“It’ll feel better without the zipper in the way.” He panted for breath on the sofa, but he didn’t make a move to take things into his own hands.

I fingered the button on his jeans and watched as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. His mouth opened on a soundless moan. Fuck this was turning me on. Making this big strong man go weak…holy fuck.

I eased his zipper down and dragged his jeans over his hips and off his legs.

“You’re not wearing underwear!”

He smiled and I knew he’d done it on purpose. I watched as he pulled his knees back and spread his thighs, baring his asshole and everything to me.
Yes
! Fuck, my dick tingled with the threat of orgasm.

“It’s easier to get fucked if you don’t have to struggle with briefs. Just unbutton and lean over.”

I groaned at the mental image of this man and some bigger Marine fucking in a bathroom somewhere, him leaning over the sink taking some big fucking dick up his asshole. My dick would be in there.

“I have to…” I was going to ask for permission to take my own clothes off. I stopped and unbuttoned my shirt. Maybe I felt like a fool. Maybe I didn’t know what to do or say. I just needed to be naked and I needed to be inside him when I came. “I’m going to come in my briefs if I don’t…”

“Take your clothes off, Mason.” I guess he realized I needed him to tell me what to do to get me through this. “I’m…I want to be…you’re so fucking gorgeous. I want you to take what you want from me…and not feel guilty. Okay?”

I nodded and dragged my shirt off my shoulders. I didn’t have any tattoos, I wasn’t muscled, and if I had any abs they were hidden under a layer of flat belly. I was scrawny.

I gasped when I brushed my hand over my own engorged, leaking dick and hastened to get my damned pants off before I really did come. Just from thinking about fucking a dude, this dude, with his legs pulled back and his dick twitching on his belly as if it was begging me to lick it.

I grabbed for the bottle of oil but came up with one of the beers instead. I looked at it, then at him and I poured some on his belly just to see his abs contract at the cold contact.

“Lick it off me,” he said between his teeth. He gripped the back of the seat with both hands now and pulled his legs back even wider. I leaned over him, and avoiding his dick, I licked the puddle of beer that was trapped in his navel. “Shit,” he said breathlessly. So I poured more and licked the liquid from his abs. I traced the outline of his tattoos; men’s names and dates, a Marine symbol or three, an eagle, and other designs that I couldn’t make out with my tongue. I knew what the dates were. I didn’t need to ask. His nipples were hard spikes by the time I got to them. I set the beer down and found the plastic bottle. I could tell he was struggling to hold the position and I wanted his hands on me.

I rose up to look at him as I opened the bottle of oil. “Will you touch me?”

He nodded and I poured a little into the palm of my hand. I knew there was going to be a mess and I tried not to make too much of one. I closed my eyes and leaned back to take his hard man nipple into my mouth.

I loved sucking nipples. I didn’t expect him to like having me suck him like this. “Please,” he said, his body trembling under me. I found the pucker behind his balls and rubbed the oil into him. Stroking just the pucker of his hole while I sucked on his tit.

He arched into my hand and grabbed a handful of my hair, his other hand stroking down my back as he held me to him. “Feels fucking good, Mason.”

I loved my name coming from his mouth, his voice made me shiver. I was dripping down my leg. I pushed a finger inside him. I’d never done this with a girl. Not the ass. Cunt yes. I loved fingering a girl while I sucked her nipples. I loved when I could make one come just from that. I wouldn’t have to… fuck…when was the last time I’d actually fucked something wet and tight?

I couldn’t even remember. Tits and clits and this was nothing like that. He was hairy. Not
really
hairy. Enough for me to know this wasn’t a woman I was sliding my slick finger inside. I could feel the hair on the inside of his legs when he grazed my hips. “Wrap your legs around me,” I said, realizing how much I wanted to feel trapped by him.

He nodded, breathing hard. “Another finger. You’re huge, you’re going to hurt me.”

I added a second finger and he locked his ankles around my hips, letting his feet trail down the back of my legs. He shivered and I pulled back to watch his eyes as I finger fucked his asshole. “Like this?”

“Harder,” he said, nodding when I went in deeper with two fingers. His mouth opened on a soundless O. I’d hit something deep inside him that made his dick spurt pre-come like a water faucet left on.

“Fuck, that’s…gorgeous.” I think I meant that. His dick jumped with every stroke of my fingers deep inside him. His eyes glazed over and I knew I had some kind of power over him and I could do anything I wanted to him and he’d let me. I wanted to make him come. I wanted to…

“Now. I’m going to come, Mason, now.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I pulled my fingers from his hot slick asshole and stroked my dick, my own touch more than I could bear. The tight heat of his ass when I pushed inside was fucking painful. For him too.

His mouth hung open and he pulled his legs back wide. I pulled him down in the seat until his ass was hanging over the edge of the sofa and when my gaze locked with his, I rammed my way home.

He lay half on the sofa, half off, his arms wrapped around my shoulders. He was beautiful. He lowered one foot to the floor and hitched the other over my back. “Fuck me, Mason.”

“Yes, fuck, yes.” I dug my hands into the sofa cushions and under him so that I could squeeze his ass. He fucked me back. We had a rhythm that made me sweat, bodies slapping together and I fucked him hard. I wanted to see the pain in his eyes, I wanted to see what I did to him. I wanted to fuck him until I broke him.

Something about him. Something about what I could do to him. Something primal. I’d never known it could be like this.

The music changed from one song to another. I couldn’t hear the words anymore, just the driving beat of the song that made me angry and I slammed into him, hard. So hard I felt the sofa lurch across the floor. He took everything from me. I hated him and I loved him and I… he…we hit the floor when the sofa moved again. He rolled onto his hip. I pushed into him. I didn’t care if the floor was under us now. I could feel dirt under my palms. He lifted his thigh over my shoulder and I let him put his other leg between my knees.

Up on my knees now I straddled his thigh, moving with him until we were groin to groin, balls to balls. He didn’t fuck me anymore. He lay on his hip on the floor and I fucked him so hard he flopped. Jesus, it was…fucking. Just fucking at its basic. He watched me with clouded over blue eyes. Reaching out he lay a hand on my chest. He was weak, sweating, his face twisted in pain and pleasure and… “Come, Kilby. Fucking come so I can.” I didn’t recognize my own voice. I wrapped my arms around his thigh and tried to shove my whole body into his, dick first. I’d never fucked anyone like this. I’d never had anyone look at me like Kilby looked at me. He was mine, fucking mine.

“Mason,” his cry was harsh. His dick bounced against his belly, red and swollen. He needed to come, I needed to see him come. “I…harder. There. Yeah.” He went stiff beneath me. His body pulsed around me and I could see his orgasm start behind his balls. He spewed over his belly and the floor, yet he didn’t touch himself. He lay half on his side, one arm under him, the other pinched my nipple. “Feels so fucking good.”

I shoved myself deeper inside him. I could feel the pulsing in his scrotum, deep inside him. His body convulsed around me, and all I could do was let go with him. I felt my own heat wash back over me. And I cried out, “I’m coming. Fuck, I’m coming.” But he didn’t hear me because he was arched beneath me with his dick jerking cum into the air, his face red as he cried out my name like I was his damnation.