Stuff (The Bristol Collection) (29 page)

BOOK: Stuff (The Bristol Collection)
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“So will you show me? I want to know what it’s like.”

All of a sudden, Mas figured out why Perry was asking. Fucking Tyler. “Is this about what Ty said? You really don’t have to prove anything, you know. Won’t make you any more or less gay if you do or don’t.”

Perry shook his head fiercely. “It’s not about that. I want to try. I’ve been curious for a while. I just… I didn’t know if men stuck to one or the other role, but Jasper and Lewis said they’re both… What was it? Versatile?”

“Yeah. Versatile. Some more so than others.” Mas gave the two smug, double-crossing bastards the benefit of his evil eye again.

“So does that mean you’re not? It’s all right. I don’t have to know. I was just curious.”

And that curiosity would likely lead Perry into the arms of someone with a larger sexual bag of tricks than Mas if he didn’t man up and give it a chance. “Nah, it’s okay. I’m versatile enough. We can do it that way round if you want.” And besides, it would be special to be Perry’s first at that too, even if the sheer responsibility was ball-shrivellingly terrifying.

“There’s no rush.”

There fucking was. No way was Mas stewing about this for more than a few hours. He’d never manage to get it up if he had too long to worry. “It’s okay. I think that’s a really good idea. We can give it a go later, tiger.” Mas sidled closer and groped Perry’s cock, pleased to find a nice big semi-on waiting for him.

Perry’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “Oh. Of course. Later. I…erm… I think I might have a beer first, if it’s all the same to you.”

Mas pulled out his wallet. Perhaps if he got Perry drunk enough, he’d not notice just how inept Mas was as a top. “Yeah, you wait here. I’ll get you a drink.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Despite the dreadful, skull-pounding music, the club wasn’t quite as awful as Perry had been imagining. He thought he’d meet with derision or disdain for his awkward inexperience—or perhaps worse yet, be subject to predatory advances from men like Dare. He still didn’t really know what his identity as a gay man was, or how he fit into the complex cliques of bears and twinks and so on that Mas had mentioned, but as it turned out, there was a real mix of customers. He eyed the people waiting at the bar. There were women as well as men, and by the looks of it, some were there with their boyfriends, so it wasn’t like everyone here was gay or lesbian. Even better than that, so far no one had been sexually aggressive towards him. Not unless you counted Mas, anyway, who seemed to be publically staking his claim on Perry.

He didn’t mind that at all, and he didn’t mind the smiles and compliments about his outfit. Getting attention for the way he dressed was second nature to him now, and as always, he found that Joe Public was actually very polite when faced with a well-turned-out chap. Whether they could pick up the nuances of his 40s styling was immaterial—they recognised the quality and the effort that had gone into the ensemble.

And of course, Mas in a well-fitting dinner jacket was a draw to everyone’s eyes. He’d stripped off his shirt at some point while dancing, leaving just the black braces over his naked chest. What a sight! Perry watched as Mas made his way back from another stint on the dance floor and headed over to their table. Eyes turned from every direction. Hands reached out to touch him at times. Perry had the sexiest man in the whole room headed towards him. He couldn’t help the grin taking over his face and hoped the half pint of bitter he’d had wasn’t making him flush too red.

“What’s so funny?” Mas asked, brushing a hand back through his sweat-soaked curls. “Did you see me dancing with that big Asian fella? Bloody hell, he didn’t want to take no for an answer.”

“I saw. You looked amazing.”

Mas squinted up at him. “And you’re not jealous about some other man feeling me up?”

“Should I be?”

The corners of Mas’s mouth dropped ever so slightly, and Perry couldn’t shake the feeling that he was in some way being inadequate, but he was damned if he could work out what he was doing wrong. “You look so sexy when you dance, I’m surprised everyone didn’t have their hands on you.”

“And you’d have been okay with that too?”

Giving an answer seemed dangerous. Perry just stared, willing Mas to help him out a little. In the end, help came from an unlikely source. That drunken fellow in the cheap tight clothing who’d accosted them on the way in. He staggered over and blundered into Mas, who was knocked against the table.

“Watch where you’re going,” Perry said, straightening the young man up. “Tyler, wasn’t it?”

“Yearrr, and you’re the posh ginger twat whoooz tryna get Mas all domestiva—domestosat—dom— Fuck, y’know what I mean.”

“I’m not entirely sure I do, but I suggest you take your ill manners elsewhere.”

Tyler rocked like a gyroscope, his eyes crossing. “Maa-as, your boyfriend’s threatenin’ me. Call ’im off!”

Perry tried to resist the urge to squeeze Tyler’s shoulders harder than was strictly necessary. “Don’t be ridiculous. Just leave us alone, and everything will be quite all right. In fact, you look a little worse for wear. You should probably have a sit down somewhere and drink plenty of water. Too much alcohol is never a good idea, is it?” He steered Tyler into the corner and propped him against the wall.

When he turned back, it was to find Mas staring at him with shining eyes. “You defended my honour!” Mas launched himself at Perry, who was smothered in half-naked, sweaty flesh. “You’re so fucking butch sometimes. I can’t tell you what a turn-on that is. Somebody’s definitely gonna be getting an extra-special screwing tonight.”

“What we talked about earlier?” Mas had seemed strangely reluctant at the time.

“Yeah, whatever you want, you’re gonna get it. You’re my hero.” Mas looked rather dazed, making Perry wonder if he’d be too drunk to function. But no, he was only a little tipsy. No one other than Perry would be intoxicated on the small amount of alcohol Mas had consumed.

Mas looked around. “Where’s Jasper and his keeper got to?”

“That’s not a nice way to talk about Lewis, and they left about ten minutes ago. Jasper was feeling a little dizzy. They said to say their good-byes to you.”

“Ohhh, so it’s just us. You know what that means?”

“I’m not dancing.”

“Spoilsport. But that wasn’t it. It means we can sneak off home right now, and I can give you a right good seeing to.”

“Oh. Splendid.”

“You’re so fucking cute. Splendid, indeed.” Mas grasped Perry’s chin and kissed him right there in front of everyone. But perhaps that wasn’t so strange. Other men had been kissing too, and it was the kind of place where that was allowed. All the same, public kissing felt a little…exposing. Especially when the man you were kissing was half-naked and grinding up against you in a rather lewd manner.

“Why don’t we head back to the shop?” Perry asked the moment he could unseal his lips from Mas’s.

“Wasn’t that what I was saying? C’mon, pirate. I’ll show you a good time.”

Perry retrieved their jackets and Mas’s shirt, then took hold of Mas’s hand.

The walk home didn’t take long, although it did take a little longer than it should have done as Mas insisted on taking a more circuitous route, saying there was no way he was going to risk heading down a dark alley after coming out of a gay bar.

“But you normally criticise me for not taking risks,” Perry protested. The alley was deserted. Any fool could see that.

“Yeah, but you won’t risk embarrassment or failure, which is dumb, as everyone screws up sooner or later. Risking life and limb is another thing entirely, though. You can’t go round being all obviously gay in some neighbourhoods. It just isn’t worth it.”

“We’re just two friends on our way home. Nobody need know there’s anything more to it.”

“Trust me, they’ll figure it out. You might be able to pass for straight when you’re on your own, but with me, it’s a different story. And wearing these suits is reason enough for some drunken idiots to wanna take a pop. It’s just not worth it. Best to stick to the main roads.”

So Perry acquiesced to Mas’s streetwise knowhow, and they walked side by side along the main road past Cabot Circus. He wanted to take Mas’s hand but contented himself with just occasionally bumping arms with him.

They didn’t talk much. Perry was working on centring his breathing—Lewis had suggested he should work on Yogic breathing, whatever that was. Apparently it would help relax his muscles
down there
. He’d also put Perry straight—no, hardly straight. He’d put Perry
gay
on a few other aspects that had worried him. And now Perry understood just how that strange device that had recently appeared in his bathroom was used, and he had a plan to try it out as soon as they got inside.

That proved more of a challenge than Perry had imagined, as Mas didn’t want to stop kissing him once they got up to the flat, but eventually Perry extricated himself and made his excuses. “Just give me a few minutes. I want to be…clean.”

“You’re going to have a shower? Can I join you? I’m mingin’ after all that dancing.”

“Not that kind of clean.” Was he really going to have to spell it out? “On the inside.”

“Oh right, that kind of clean.” Mas sniggered. “Ever douched before? Use lukewarm water and make sure you get it all out again afterwards. Can be messy otherwise. And take the lube with you. It’ll help.” Mas strolled over to the bed and chucked the lube in Perry’s direction. He missed by a mile—definitely a little worse for wear on the alcohol—and Perry retrieved it from the floor. “You sure you still want to do this?” Mas’s question was casual, but something about his tone didn’t ring true.

“Quite sure. Don’t worry about me.”

Mas gave him a long look that Perry couldn’t for the life of him figure out. “Okay. I’ll be waiting for you.”

It was only after he’d completed his slightly uncomfortable ablutions that Perry realised Mas might not have been asking for Perry’s sake. That hesitancy from earlier…

He pushed the door open. Mas was lying on the bed, half-naked again and with his fly undone, frantically stroking his erection. He didn’t look like a man who was having second thoughts, but still, Perry didn’t like to push his own agenda. Mas didn’t appear to be terribly relaxed, that was certain.

“You gonna stand there all day watching?”

“I was wondering…”

Mas sat up. “It’s okay if you’ve changed your mind. I don’t mind. Really.” He said it so quickly that even Perry was able to figure out his real feelings.

“You don’t want to, do you?”

Mas looked down at the sheets, his lips pursed. Botheration. Perry joined him on the bed and drew Mas into his arms. “It’s quite all right. I was curious, but it’s not a problem if I don’t get to find out what it’s like on your side of things.”

“I don’t want to let you down.”

“You haven’t. It’s fine.”

“No. That’s not what I meant. I just… I like the idea of fucking you, but I’m no good at topping. You deserve better. Especially for your first time. I get so bloody nervous about it I have to be almost ready to shoot first or I lose my hard-on, and then I’m so excited I end up coming in about ten seconds flat. Really. I’m not exaggerating. Every time I’ve tried it, it’s been a total bloody disaster. I’m sorry.”

“I see.” Perry considered the new information. It certainly made sense of Mas’s strange behaviour. “When you say
every time
, how many times was that?”

“Three. Believe me, that was enough to learn my lesson. I’m a bottom. No question about it.”

“And how long ago was the last time you tried?”

“It was with my first boyfriend, Shane Meadows. Did I tell you about him yet?”

“I don’t think so.” Although Perry had a hard time remembering the details of the many previous conquests Mas had told him about.

“We were at school together. The only two queers in the whole year, that we knew of anyway. Luckily he was okay with topping, and most of the time it was just handjobs and blowjobs anyway. Always too worried about someone bursting in on us when we were at it. I never did have a lock on my bedroom door back then.”

“So how old were you?”

“Sixteen.”

“Sixteen? Oh my dearest.” Perry rocked Mas in his arms. “That was… What? Six years ago? I’m not surprised you had a hair trigger. I know I did at that age. Not that I had any experience with anything other than my own right hand.” Belatedly he realised he’d used a pet name for Mas.
Dearest?
Where had that come from? “My first few times with women were like that too, but I soon got the hang of things and managed to hold on for longer. We can all be excused a bit of youthful inexperience.”

“So you think that’s all it was?” Mas’s large eyes implored Perry to offer reassurance.

“I think you’re older now, and if you give it another chance, you’ll probably find things have changed. For goodness’s sake, look how much I’ve changed. Just a month or so ago I would never have believed I’d be excited by the idea of being penetrated by a man. Although not just any old fellow. You.”

“Really? You could do better. I’m hardly butch or macho.”

“I don’t want you to be. You’re perfect the way you are.”

“You’re the bestest.” Mas’s arms wrapped tighter around Perry, and after long minutes of tender kissing, Perry felt the insistent press of Mas’s erection against him. Perhaps this could work after all, if he could just help Mas over his fears. Perry’s own worries fell away. What was a little pain compared to Mas’s fear of humiliation? He first worked on getting them naked, kissing Mas all the while. Fortunately he’d already dealt with his cuff links, so taking off his shirt wasn’t too difficult a task, and then they were both bare from the waist up. Mas’s hands were busy too, working Perry’s fly, pushing his trousers down to his knees and then squeezing them both together with delicious friction.

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