Shy (10 page)

He pulled a sheet of paper from his shirt pocket and waved it over his head directly in my face. “Blood test,” he said, still mumbling around my dick. “Took it three weeks ago. I’m clean. Thought you should know.”

With my cock still in his mouth, I was doing my damnedest to concentrate on that sheet of paper with the long list of numbers and medical abbreviations on it, but it wasn’t easy. I had no idea what most of those figures meant anyway. They were a mystery. But one figure caught my eye.

“Uh-oh, Frank. This doesn’t look good.”

Frank spat out my dick and looked up at me with the biggest eyes I had ever seen. He might as well have had the word
terror
tattooed across his forehead in purple ink.

“What? What?”

I smiled down at him. “Your blood sugar’s a little high.”

He laughed. “Christ, Tom, you scared me to death. The blood sugar is high because I was nervous going in and ate a box of donuts on the way. Anything else you want to bitch about?”

“No. I have one of these too, you know. Took it two months ago. And since you’re the first person I’ve been with since, I guess that means we’re safe.”

“Oh goodie,” he said. “That means I can do anything I want.”

I flapped a finger in his face. “As long as you say please first.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes.

And since he was still on his knees in front of me, without missing a beat, he took my rigid cock back into his mouth and began shedding his clothes, piece by piece. By the time he was naked, I had to make him stop doing what he was doing, or there would have been a rerun of the previous night’s experiment in premature ejaculation.

I gently eased myself from his mouth, but he gripped my ass and held me in place while he burrowed his nose under my testicles. He smiled when he took first one testicle into his mouth, then he freed it to go after the other. He tried to put them both in his mouth, but they wouldn’t fit. Jesus. Could this guy do
anything
that didn’t make me want to come?

I pulled him to his feet and dragged him down the hall to the bedroom, stopping only long enough to free Pedro from his leash. At the bedroom door, I none too gently pushed Frank inside, noticing happily when I did that his pecker was sticking straight up and bouncing around in front of him like a divining rod. It was all I could do take my eyes off it long enough to ease Pedro away from the bedroom door with my bare foot, which he tried to bite out of sheer petulance, before slamming the door in his little Chihuahua face. I wanted no interruptions this time.

Idly stroking his own cock, which was erotic as hell, don’t think it wasn’t, Frank stood at the edge of the bed, watching me, wondering maybe what I was going to do next. What I did was grab his shoulders, spin him around, and throw him facedown on the bed. I dropped to my knees and leaning over the foot of the bed, played my hands along the back of Frank’s gorgeous hairy legs. Slowly, I splayed them apart. Admiring. Kneading. His calf muscles were tense and hard and perfectly delineated. He was trembling again. Every square inch of him.

I ran my lips from his ankles upward, first along one leg, then along the other, savoring the heat of his skin and the sensation of his leg hair scraping my face. When I reached the point where those two fabulous legs came together, I spread Frank’s fuzzy ass cheeks and dove right in. I gently circled his puckered opening with my tongue, tasting, experimenting, wondering how Frank was feeling about it. But judging by the amount of shaking he was doing, and the occasional gasp that issued from his throat, and the way he lifted his trembling ass to meet me halfway, I figured he wasn’t getting offended or anything, so I plowed right ahead.

By the way, in case you’re wondering, that little patch of hair at the base of Frank’s spine really did tickle my nose when my tongue was up his ass, just as I suspected it would.

God, he was the sexiest man I had ever known. Just being in his orbit made me feel sexy as hell too. Even flat on his stomach with his ass in my face, Frank was perfect. Maybe
especially
flat on his stomach with his ass in my face, Frank was perfect.

When I flipped him over onto his back and he aimed his iron cock in my direction, begging for me to take it into my mouth, he was even better. I was more than happy to do exactly what he wanted me to do, but I had a couple of other things I wanted to do first. And I took my sweet time doing them. First, I set about licking his balls. They were fat and tight and heavy, he was so excited. They were hairy too. Just like his legs. Just like his ass. Only Frank’s chest was smooth. As smooth and hot as sun-warmed glass. His nipples were hard little rocks perched in the middle of broad, brown areolas. I stroked Frank’s stomach while I licked his nuts, going from one to the other, like a kid with two all-day suckers who doesn’t know which one he likes the best.

Frank had flung his arm over his face, blocking out the light, blocking out everything but the sensation of my lips on his balls. When I headed north and nibbled the base of his cock, it lurched in my hand. Frank gasped, then laughed. Then he raised his hips, pleading for me to get to where I was going.

Still, I didn’t hurry. I licked along the shaft of his cock, and there was considerable licking to be done. Frank’s dick wasn’t exactly small. It wasn’t as big as mine, but I haven’t seen too many that were. Frank’s dick was cut and perfectly formed. The head of it was shaped like a mini-muffin, overriding its paper cup. The slit was dribbling moisture like a leaky faucet, and I periodically stopped what I was doing and lapped it away as I worked my way farther north.

When I finally popped the head of Frank’s dick into my mouth, Frank started trembling again. When I pushed my head down over it to the very root, to where his pubic hair was flush against my face, his hips shot upward and I almost gagged. But it was a happy gag.

Never letting his cock leave my mouth, Frank wiggled around until he was facing the other way. Once there, he buried his face in
my
crotch. Licking. Lapping. Even when I’m fully aroused, my foreskin needs to be pulled back. Frank found the mechanics of it fascinating—sliding the foreskin back, releasing it, sliding it back again. I wondered if he had ever had sex with an uncircumcised man before. He was like a kid with a new toy, and believe me, I was more than happy to be the center of his attention.

He finally decided to get down to brass tacks and slid his warm lips over my dick while his hands stroked my body, from my stomach to my back to my legs. Frank’s own legs were wrapped tightly around my shoulders. It didn’t take long to figure out that Frank and I both loved to sixty-nine. We had easy access to all our favorite body parts that way and neither of us was shy about exploring. We might not be much at socializing, but by God, stick a dick in our faces and we could rumble with the best of them.

I was getting really close to coming, and by the way his hips were involuntarily lunging and shuddering, I suspected Frank was too.

I pulled back to watch my hand stroke his dick, occasionally sipping away the precome that kept forming at the tip. Frank decided he would do the same thing, and we lay there stroking each other, faces and dicks at eye level, working our way toward the big finale.

Frank was so breathless he could hardly speak. “I’m gonna come in a minute.”

I kept slowly stroking. “Me too.”

“I wanna watch you when you come,” Frank said.

“I wanna watch you too.”

Then he said, “Uuuuhhh! Don’t stop, Tom! Don’t stop!”

I slowed down but I didn’t stop. I stroked his hard cock from the head to the base, periodically licking away the precome, just because it tasted so damned good, and all the while smiling at the way Frank was shaking.

While I worked on him, he worked on me. Long slow strokes. Occasional kisses at the tip, lapping away the liquid seeping from my dick with his hot tongue, but always with his eye out for that one irreversible moment when there was no turning back. And I reached that moment a second later.

So did Frank.

With a monumental shudder, he arched his back and filled my hand with gouts of hot semen. He cried out as I continued to stroke his shooting cock. His come was going everywhere. In my face, across his stomach, dribbling down my arm. I pressed my smiling face to his balls and watched him shoot. Lordy. It was like the Fourth of July.

I was so wrapped up in what he was doing I almost didn’t see my own ejaculation looming. But Frank saw it and he was ready when it came. He continued to slowly pump me, lingering his fingers around the head of my dick with every upward stroke, teasing me there until I was ready to scream. When I finally came, it was with such force that I wasn’t the only one who gasped. Frank gasped too. He pressed his lips into the base of my cock so he could feel the surging semen gushing upward as it fought its way out into the morning air.

I looked down at him as he watched me come, and his face was covered with my juices. He licked them away from his mouth, then circled those hot lips around my dick one last time, as if to lay claim to those final spurting drops. I felt him draw them from me, like milk through a straw.

I gave a last shudder and fell back, my face still buried in Frank’s crotch.

Talk about funky. We were both splattered with come. It was everywhere. We looked at each other and laughed. Then we wiggled around until we could get our lips together and we gave each other a hot, slippery, come-y kiss.

Before we could dry out and stick together like a couple of Post-it Notes, I dragged us off to the shower. There we shared our first bath. And it was wonderful. We soaped each other down, dried each other off, and wrapped ourselves in a couple of terry robes I pulled out of the closet. Then we headed to the kitchen for breakfast.

It was our first day as roomies, and I was already happy as a clam over the way things were turning out. I hoped Frank was too, and considering the way he always ejaculated when I wanted him to, I could only assume he was.

Pedro was still pissed, grumbling around the apartment like he was in the first stages of rabies or something, but a little flattery, an ass rub, and a couple of doggie biscuits set things right.

After breakfast, Frank and I lounged around on the sofa, finishing our coffee, occasionally peeking under each other’s bathrobes simply because we couldn’t seem to stay away, and digging through the Sunday paper, looking for employment opportunities. For Frank, of course, not Pedro.

Pedro was pretty much unemployable. Hell, even I knew that.

T
HERE
were times that morning when Frank and I still became shy with each other. Admittedly, we hadn’t known each other very long, but still, one would think that two incredible bouts of hot sex would alleviate the tension a bit. And it did. A bit. Just not completely.

While Frank studied the want ads and sipped his coffee, I worked my way up to asking the question that had been bothering me, the question that had thrown me into a panic attack five minutes after waking up that morning on the living room floor. I had to build up to it, though. It wasn’t an easy question to ask.

“I’m glad you’re staying, Frank. Don’t worry. We’ll find you a job.”

“I don’t know what I would have done without you, Tom. You were so right about my brother. What the hell is wrong with him, anyway? Why is he so damned mean?”

I waved away all talk of Stanley. I had other things on my mind.

“Here it is, Frank,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Here’s what I need to know.”

Frank stopped what he was doing and gave me his full attention. Geez, the guy was just so damned
nice
.
And those green eyes! And that hair! And that body! And—Christ, I almost forgot what I was going to say.

“What are we going to be?” I finally asked, nervous as hell. I shouldn’t have been asking this particular question at all. I knew that. I was probably about to scare the guy off. But it couldn’t be helped. I
had
to ask. I wanted to know before I fell any harder for Frank. I had already worked my way up to what would be a hell of a heartache if things didn’t pan out. I didn’t want to let myself get buried any further in this avalanche of feelings I was experiencing. I had enough emotional problems going on. I didn’t need a broken heart to contend with on top of everything else. Hell, I wasn’t even over Jerry yet. Well, maybe I was. Last night seemed to have pretty well fixed
that
problem. “We’ll be living under the same roof, Frank, but what is our day-to-day relationship going to be? Are we roomies with sexual benefits, or just roomies? Are we working our way toward something more? You have to know I’m crazy about you already. How do you feel about me? Don’t answer that. No, wait. Tell me. No, don’t. Shit.”

That went pretty well, I thought, up until the end of my speech, at least. Sort of fell apart there. But at least I avoided the L word. That was my main objective. Nothing scares off a prospective suitor like the indiscriminate use of the L word.

Frank laughed at my stammering finale, which wasn’t the response I was looking for. But he was laughing in a
nice
way. He probably didn’t know
how
to laugh any other way. We were sitting cross-legged on the sofa in our bathrobes facing each other with the Sunday paper scattered all over ourselves and half the room. He set his coffee cup aside, swept the paper from our laps, and leaning forward, lay his hands on my bare ankles. He gently stroked my calves as he spoke. While I had gone to great lengths not to say that one little word that begins with the letter L, Frank apparently saw no reason to avoid it at all.

“I love being with you, Tom. I’m not very experienced, you know. Sexually, I mean. And I’ve never been in love. Can you believe that? I’m twenty-four and I’ve never been in love. There’s not a lot of opportunity for gay love growing up on a tiny farm in Indiana.”

“You certainly seem to know what to do,” I said, skirting my way around the L word even now, although Frank was the one who said it first, not me. “I mean, sexually you seem to know what to do.” Sheesh. Talk about an understatement.