Hello Nifty readers! As I said before, this series is my first foray into shorter length erotica.Your feedback and encouragement have been amazing! I would love any more feedback you might have for me on style, voice, general thoughts, sexiness, writing of sex etc. Anything really.
You can email me at:
DAMackeyNYC@gmail.com
I hope you enjoy this and I look forward to hearing from you.
DISCLAIMER: The following fictional story deals with sex among males. If you are offended by such material, are too young, or reside in an area where it is not allowed, depart. Though not observed in this story, care enough about yourself and humankind to practice safe sex.
The author retains all rights. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the author's consent.
NOTE: There will be one more part (possibly two depending on length,) at the competition in Boston before David and Daniel return to school. Some of you have expressed a desire for the story to continue and I wanted to assure you that it will. Though I only intended this to be a two part thing, just testing the waters, the response has been fantastic. So I spent the past two days, between writing part 3, compiling the outlines for the remainder. Somewhere between 10-15 sections. It's taking me about three days to write and edit each 8,000-10,000 word section, so bear with me. Going as fast as my little gay fingers can type! So yeah, here we go! Enjoy!
2nd NOTE: I felt the need to expand on the growing NON-physical side of David and Daniel's relationship in this period. So, the sex is present and accounted for, but lingers closer to the end of the story. I hope you continue through to the end!
Celebrate Your Victories
By D.A. Mackey
Despite the fact that my brain had had little time to float back down to the real world from the craziness of the past 14 hours with Daniel, the debilitating cold of Boston had an instant and sobering effect on me. In the South, the entire city shuts down when there is a projected 1/2 inch of snow in the forecast. The schools close and everyone makes a mad dash to the grocery stores for bread and milk, apparently conned into thinking that the apocalypse has arrived and carbohydrates and calcium would save them from the promised destruction. Hurricanes, we know how to deal with. Frozen water descending from the heavens was just unnatural and an affront to our very way of life.
Not the case in Boston. When I stepped out of the Boston International Airport into the February air, I suddenly wondered if our plane had be diverted to Alaska without my noticing. I'd spent a good portion of the flight locked in the bathroom with Daniel, so it was entirely possible. Brisk doesn't begin to describe it. The general sexiness of wearing Daniel's jock and our multiple previous excursions faded to nothingness when that first blast of frigid northern air hit my skin and shrunk my once impressive manhood to something resembling the size of a shriveled green bean. It hurt to breathe on the 25 foot journey from the sliding glass doors to the van waiting to drive us to the competition.
I was still in shock when Daniel slid in beside me on the long back seat, the warmth of his thigh pressed into mine but offering little in the way of actual relief. Even his supreme confidence was shaken to a stunned silence, both of our eyes wide with uncertainty and staring straight ahead at the businesslike northerners rushing to and fro outside our vehicular oasis. They seemed unfazed by the blistering cold, even going so far as to taunt us with smiles and loving gazes towards the overcast skies as they hailed cabs and fancy black town cars. It all served to cement in my mind the fact that Yankees were, indeed, insane. Perhaps the Civil War hand't been about slavery or states rights after all, but a simple attempt for a frozen people to migrate en masse to warmer climes.
Ms. Gonzales seemed to take it the hardest. She hailed from Puerto Rico, so this must have been absolute hell for her. She sat in the passenger seat and stared blankly straight ahead, as if she was rethinking her commitment to chaperoning this trip and seriously contemplating turning around and buying a one way ticket back to Charlotte, leaving a group of mostly under-age kids to fend for themselves in the Great White North.
Somehow, we made it to the sign in for Nationals, the driver twisting and turning through the rabbit warren of brownstone lined streets and traffic circles without the need for GPS or maps. I lost track of our direction in minutes, unable to tell if we were any closer or further away from the airport. He could have just driven us in a circle for all I knew.
It was almost 10:20 when we finally shuffled up to the check in table, manned by two University volunteers in smart sports coats and snappy ties. They were obviously students at the University hosting the competition and reveled in the fact that they were older and "wiser" than the young ruffians competing over the long weekend.
Their smug smiles greeted us. They showed Ms. Gonzales an infuriating mock deference, laced with patronizing glee, when she informed them of who our silent and frozen group was and was told we were too late to compete for points but could still be entered for feedback (a fact that Daniel registered with a shrug in my direction.) They hadn't been in college long enough for the teenage acne to clear from their foreheads, but they took delight in delivering the bad news to the kids shivering hopefully before them.
I was 18 now. Only for a few hours so far, but still. That made me a man. And as a man, I wanted nothing so much as to punch the two squarely in their self-satisfied jaws and show them what Southern justice could be. At least, I would have done so if my fingers hadn't been transformed into useless, numb sticks in my too-thin gloves and completely lost the ability to form into a fist or do anything much more than hang dead at my sides.
"The first round is already underway now," the guy on the left said matter-of-factly. "That should give you about 45 minutes to head to your hotel and check in before the next round starts. If you can get back by 11:30 we can enter your competitors into round two as feedback candidates?"
Ms. Gonzales said something under her breath in Spanish. Though she had given me a B+ on that paper, I understood her utterance to be a curse on the parents and eventual children of both of the young men behind the folding table.
Good on you, Ms. G!
I felt a twinge of guilt at having reveled in her sleepless night with the Dramatic Interpretation Chick. But only a twinge. I didn't get B+'s. Not ever.
"Pardon?" the second jack-ass asked after her muttering. "I didn't catch that? Something about shriveled eggs and soft sausages?"
Ms. Gonzales smiled sweetly at them.
"Round two will be just fine," she said in her most gentile southern lilt, peppered with Puerto Rican inflection.
The jack-asses nodded and noted it down on the papers before them and then called us each by name and handed us our schedules for the next two days, typed and filed neatly into blue folders.
The ride to the hotel was silent, each of us lost in our disappointment and beginning to practice our performances in our minds. We may not have had a chance to win anything, but we could and would do our best despite that fact.
The hotel was nicer than our accommodations the night before. Going to a swanky private school had its' advantages. Before we could begin to argue over room assignments, a very bedraggled Ms. Gonzales informed us that the rooms would remain the same as the night before. She brooked no discussion on the subject, except to book an extra room for herself. She had learned her lesson, apparently.
Daniel and I stumbled quietly to our room, key cards in hand, letting the warmth of the place finally thaw our limbs a bit. At least the beds were nicer, the bedspreads seemed to be woven of actual fibers found in nature, (shock of all shocks!) and the carpet was something resembling acceptable. Without a word, Daniel left his suitcase in the entry way and shuffled to the far bed, threw himself onto it and awkwardly grabbed the covers around him, forming himself into a cocoon of beige fabric.
"I've never been so cold in my entire life," he mumbled. I could hear his teeth chattering a bit as he said it.
"I hate Boston," I added, still standing frozen in the doorway.
"Get over here," he said miserably, using his head to indicate his general direction but not daring to remove the covers from around him. I put up no argument as I walked to the bed and sat blindly on the edge of it.
Daniel's arms, still wrapped in the comforter, engulfed me and pulled me backwards into his chest, my wet feet rising from the floor. I squeaked a bit, but I smiled at the contact. His embrace was warm and inviting.
"Daniel," I giggled. "Come on, we don't have time for this. We need to change and get back."
He nuzzled into me, playing the big spoon despite his smaller stature, his face pressed to the back of my neck, his breath sending shivers down my entire body, for once totally unrelated to the cold.
"I know, I know. Just one minute to warm up," he pleaded.
I nodded my acceptance and scooted closer to him, pressing my hips back into his, his arms squeezing me tighter to his broad chest. I could feel his crotch pressed into my ass and my body responded on its own accord, bucking into him. I was warming up rapidly and his growing erection pressing into my backside indicated that he was as well.
I don't know where I found the strength, but after a minute of deepened breathing and dry humping beneath our covers I said:
"Alright. Come on. We don't have time for this. Not now."
Daniel sighed mightily behind me but didn't protest when I disentangled myself from his grasp and stood. He threw back the covers and lay spread eagle in the open air, eyes on the ceiling.
"I guess you're right. But can't blame a guy for trying."
He rose from the bed and retrieved his suitcase, flinging it to the mattress like a shot putter. In a flash, he had it unzipped and picked out an outfit of grey dress pants, sky blue button-down and dapper tan waistcoat with a bronze silk tie to match. His winter coat and sweater soon made a pile on the floor beside him and I had to stop my own ensemble assemblage to stare at him.
Shirtless and in his tight blue jeans, he was perfection. His broad chest bulged and heaved, the movement of the individual muscles and ligaments hypnotizing me as he busied himself picking out a pair of shiny beige dress shoes and dark brown silk socks. He noticed my pause.
"Reconsidering, birthday boy?" he teased.
"What?" I asked, shaken from my trance. "Oh, yes. Yes, I am."
He chuckled at me and my gaze returned to my own outfit. I picked out my best black dress pants and black shirt. Instead of a traditional tie, I opted for a pocket square in blinding white cotton, with the top button of my shirt to be left open. I liked to buck the traditional trend.
Daniel's jeans hit the floor and once again he was naked before me. His uncut member was still as beautiful as it had been three hours ago when I drank him down like a man dying of thirst. His balls, remarkably, were still full to bursting and swung beneath him as he pulled on his grey pants.
"But we can't, remember?" he teased as he zipped them up and grabbed his button down. "Not now."
"I know, I know." My jeans joined his on the floor and I stood in his jock strap. I reached beneath the elastic with my leaden fingers and began to pull it down to replace it with more appropriate and fully covering undergarments.
"No," Daniel interjected, stopping me when the jock was just inches below my hips. "Keep it on."
"But," I protested.
"Keep it on." His gaze was hungry and his cock jumped in the front of his pants.
"I'm not going to be able to concentrate if I have this on all day."
"So? It's not like we're getting points."
One day, he would need to write a book on sexual logic. He was unparalleled, yet again. My resolve against him melted and I pulled on my black pants over his white jock.
I had to admit that the feel of the silky fabric on my bare ass cheeks was intoxicating. I had to concentrate on the task at hand to keep from getting fully aroused. Daniel and I dressed in the sexually tense silence until we both looked our best and brightest, for all that it would matter.
"Are you ready to head back out into that disaster?" he asked, a hint of trepidation at the prospect seeping in his tone.
"I am if you are."
I headed for the door and had my hand on the handle when his grip on my shoulder stopped me and spun me around, my vision blurring. My back thumped loudly against the wood of the door as he pushed hard into me, his free hand grabbing my cock in a vice grip through my pants, driving all thought and breath from my body. His lips pressed into mine with a vengeance and his tongue probed my mouth. For a few delirious moments I melted into his attack, letting his passion and power control me, body and soul.
"Good luck, nerd," He whispered into my ear, giving my cock a final squeeze before he opened the door and waited for me to follow him into the hall.
The second round of the competition passed me by in a blur. I'm not exactly sure what I said to rebut any of the points my drastically underprepared midwestern opponent half-heartedly lobbed in my direction, but it must have been adequate. I won the round.
Or at least, I would have won the round if I had been getting points. Since I wasn't, my opponent took the points and progressed to the next level. I could see the defeat in his face, though he still took the meager points he'd won and sheepishly left the room without congratulations or the common decency to shake my hand despite his loss.
Normally, I would have been irked at the fact that the better orator hadn't truly won, as sportsmanship would dictate, but my mind was elsewhere. Daniel still occupied my every thought, the finer points of Constitutional law and practice coming to mind simply by wrote muscle memory and intellectual reflex. I guess I should have been thankful that my opponents possessed blindingly inferior debate skills and I didn't really need to exert myself too much to come out victorious, for all.
The third round found me pitted against a sophomore girl from West Virginia, and the topic handed down was the embarrassingly easy, "should the first amendment apply to hate speech?" I could argue this in my sleep. As a gay guy in the South, I could fashion not only the logical and legal arguments, but appeal to the pathos of the matter with personal accounts of how hate speech had touched my own life, but how the right of the person saying it was something I would defend to the death. No one can beat a self-sacrificing suffering hero, well armed with anecdotes as well as facts and figures.
Just as I was finishing my opening statements and preparing to take short hand notes on my opponent's surely-weak points, my eyes scanned the nearly empty auditorium. Though the lights effectively barred me from seeing faces clearly, I instantly knew the silhouette that blocked the double doors at the back. Daniel stood in the rear of the theater, his dapper form clean and crisp against the afternoon sunlight streaming in behind him.
What the hell was he doing here?!
I felt my self control seeping from my bones and my knees wobbled beneath me. My fingers gripped my podium, silently giving thanks that a few hours inside had returned some strength to their former frigid uselessness. It was all I could do to stand there. Miss West Virginia droned on to my right and I heard approximately 5% of the words that escaped her mouth. My eyes stayed locked on Daniel as he made his way to an empty seat two rows behind the three judges who seemed as uninterested in her argument as I had recently found myself. In the light blinding gloom, I tried to look away from his face but I could feel his eyes on me, feel him smirking at my obvious discomfort and shakiness.
He was doing this on purpose. He KNEW the effect he had on me and he had decided to tease me. It spoke to my hormone level and general weakness for a well-muscled hyper-sexual jock that all it took was his mere presence in my line of sight to turn me into useless goo.
"Affirmative?" a voice called from the darkness.
I stared at Daniel, still stunned.
"Affirmative?" the voice repeated.
"Huh?" I asked, realizing that the voice was speaking to me.
"Your rebuttal?"
"Oh...um, sorry. I...um...yeah....Affirmative, that's me. Right? So...um."
Oh, for fuck's sake. My mind was a blank.
The next ten minutes where probably the most embarrassing of my young life to that point. Thankfully, I don't remember much of the drivel that spewed from my mouth. Only the vague sense of superiority and imminent victory that grew in Miss West Virginia as each point I attempted to make fell flat and she evicerated me like I was a small kitten to her rabid wolf. It was a bloodbath. At some point I gave up and just kept my answers to grunts and the occasional, "no comment, I concede the point." (What the hell was that?) Thankfully, after I conceded my defeat, the end came quickly with Miss West Virginia winning the round with ease.
I wiped the sweat from my brow and headed into the auditorium with my notecards in hand, holding my tattered pride and what was left of my personal dignity together with everything I had.
"Wow. That was...," Daniel said as he approached.
"Shut it," I snapped.
Daniel smiled at me and any real anger I had towards him evaporated like water on a hot skillet.
"That was a disaster. Are you sure you should even be at Nationals?"
He taunted me with that crooked smile, standing there in his perfect suit, looking like a super hero figurine.
"That was all your fault, you know?"
"Oh?" Daniel mocked. "And how do you figure that?"
"You distracted me!" I shouted in a harsh whisper.
"I didn't do anything but come to lend you some friendly support, nerd."
"Bullshit! How would you like it if I came and watched your Original Oratory round? Hmm?"
The idea of returning his sneaky little trick back to him began to take shape in my mind. I made a note to check his schedule.
"Feel free. Cause, see, I'm prepared for my rounds. Unlike some of us..." He winked at me.
I threw up my hands and collected my bag and coat from the back of the chair I had thrown them on before the round began and punched him in the arm. I could have been a gnat on an elephant for all the apparent effect it had on him. He just laughed at me, amused.
"You're an asshole." I said with every scrap of sass I could muster, which was admittedly very little.
"You're cute when you're pissed."
My already fractured brain broke into a million pieces. Why was he toying with me? What the hell was his game here?
Even the most logical of minds, the most intelligent of men, when faced with the unknowable and unforeseen that the universe throws into your path, must abandon their control and concede mastery of themselves to their baser human instincts. Daniel's voice complimenting me reduced me to a ball of contradicting emotions, my logical mind pushed to a mere nagging muffled voice in the back of my head.
"Thanks," I whispered and turn to look at him. Our eyes met for a bit. His expression was unreadable. Pleasant and open, but a mystery to me. What lay behind those soft brown pools? What thoughts raced in his mind? How was he so sure and calm when I was like a rowboat tossed about in a monsoon with no land in sight?
Damn it, why was he so beautiful?
"When's your next round?" he asked, as if nothing had happened.
"4:30," I said. "It's my last one for the day, though at this point I'm wondering what the point would be to even show up after that debauchery you just witnessed."
Daniel chuckled again.
"Good luck, nerd. You'll do fine. I have a few errands to run, but I'll see you back in the room at 6:00?"
He gathered his belongings and looked towards the end of the row, which I was blocking.
"Yeah, I'll see you at 6:00."
I turned my body sideways to give him room to scoot by me. He took the opportunity to brush the back of his hand against my crotch, making me gasp and jump.
Without looking back, so sure of his effect on me, he called to the open room: "Happy Birthday, nerd. See you at 6:00," and exited the auditorium.
The final round for the day ended in my pointless victory and the points that should have been mine going instead to an overly animated guy from Georgia. I forgot all of my breeding and rushed from the theater without shaking his hand, (though it would have been difficult to do so, given his fists pumping in the air over his hollow win). I threw on my coat and didn't even notice the crippling cold as I walked quickly back towards the hotel.
I busied myself for a while by pacing the empty room, back and forth, turning on the TV to a mundane talking-heads media broadcast as I attempted to make sense of what had become of my life.
I was nervous. Not the kind of nerves one gets before a big test or while waiting for a college acceptance letter. But the kind that shook the pillars on which I had built my life. This was different. I was so sure of myself only a few hours ago. I was smart and well-mannered and I had found a rhythm that suited me well enough. My budding sexuality was something with which I didn't wrestle, but also paid little attention. The few boys I had dated since realizing I was gay had been like minor distractions, things that I needed to do to move on to the next step. The majority of them (meaning two of the three) had been relationships of convenience and proximity. When you are the only other gay person in a small group for one extracurricular or another, it seemed only logical that you should "date," irrespective of actual attraction or romantic feeling. I had blindly wandered into those "relationships" with no real commitment or sense of emotion until the unequal nature of them had become so apparent that neither of us saw any reason to continue. I had made out with and had sex with them as if it was something written on my to-do list.
Never had their lips caused me to quiver inside. Not one of them had made my heart beat faster in my chest by their very presence. Even now, alone in the hotel room, my nerves were on edge wondering when the door would open and Daniel would enter. My mind played out the various ways in which he would greet me, still lingering on what I thought he should be doing, how he should be treating the socially inferior nerd he was forced to room with. No one I had dated had ever come close to that.
But Daniel and I were not dating. No. That much was clear. We were exploring. HE was exploring. That is what he was calling it and I had to remember that.
But try telling your mind to define something that was undefinable. It doesn't work.
I idly wondered if this feeling was the one I'd heard so much about in the bodice-rippers my mother liked to read on our summer beach vacations. I certainly didn't relish the idea of being in a comparable state to the often powerless and agentless women of those novels, but there I was.
How would this play out when we got back to school? Daniel wasn't even sure he was bi, much less gay. And I wasn't at all sure I would even want to be in a relationship with him. Not publicly. I realized that part of what made this, whatever it was, so intoxicating, was the clandestine nature of it all. What we were doing was secret, hidden. That added a layer of intrigue and mystery that I hadn't ever expected to find arousing.
I was secure and comfortable in the non-popular crowd. I knew my place and how to act in it. High School would be over in four months. I didn't want to change the world order now, not so close to the end of this particular journey.
All of these thoughts bounced in my head, competing for dominance and finding no answers. When the door opened a little before six PM to admit a smiling Daniel, I was still pacing the floor.
"How was your last round?" He asked plainly, removing his suit jacket and tossing it to the most unrummpled of the two beds.
"Fine. I guess." I said without really hearing myself. My eyes wandered his muscled arms and chest, traveled to his waist and lingered on his strong thighs underneath the grey dress pants.
"Well, did you win?" His tie joined his suit jacket and his waistcoat soon followed.
"Yeah. For what it's worth."
"Spoil sport. Celebrate your victories!"
The top buttons of his dress shirt were unbuttoned, revealing his olive-skinned chest and masculine black body hair, swirling over the planes of his muscles. My mouth was suddenly very dry.
"Hello? Earth to David?" he said with a jocular vibe. His shirt hung open now, his flat stomach and hip bones exposed, pointing the way to his manhood like a map I was destined to follow.
I tried to shake myself from my daydreams of licking every inch of his exposed skin. He approached me and, though he was shorter and I had to look down to meet his gaze, his fingers on the buttons of my black shirt immediately made me feel smaller and vulnerable.
"Get changed," he said in a breathy voice as he untucked my shirt and finished unbuttoning it. His strong fingers traced my ribs and my body went numb. "I'm taking you to dinner."
He turned from me and headed towards the bathroom door.
"Wear my jock. I'm going to wash up. Be ready when I get out."
That wasn't a question. I was normally very proud of my independent nature, but I found myself smiling and humming as I followed his orders. And orders they had been.
Daniel was taking me...ME...to dinner.
I dressed in a daze and bundled up against the coming cold. I'm sure we must have talked on the elevator ride down to the lobby and out onto the bustling streets of Boston, but for the life of me, I can't recall the conversation. I was too preoccupied with the sound of my own blood pumping in my ears, and that little voice in my head raging against the illogical nature of what was about to happen.
Daniel positioned himself by my side as we walked down the street, deftly avoiding piles of dirty slushy snow and uneven bricks as if we'd been doing it our entire lives. Our hands remained in our pockets as protection against the very probable dangers of frostbite, but I couldn't seem to shake the desire to remove them from their hiding place and wind my arm around Daniel's. But that would have been too intimate. And anyone could have seen us. We were left mostly to our own devices for dinner, but Ms. Gonzales or any of the other students could have been in one of the many cafes and coffee shops we wandered past.
"What are you in the mood for?" Daniel asked, turning those brown eyes on me.
"I don't care," I said, truly happy just to be walking with him in the briskness, our breath making small clouds before us as we meandered the various obstacles. "You pick."
"It's your Birthday. You should pick the restaurant."
It may have been wishful thinking or projection on my part, but I could swear there was an edge of nervousness to his voice that I hadn't heard before. Or at least, hadn't noticed. The slight waver of panic that made his voice raise in pitch just a bit, like when you sit in the seat waiting for the roller coaster to crest the first big hill and speed you through its course. Adrenaline building to a joyful climax.
"I like Italian," I said. It was true, but it was also my pathetic attempt to insert some possibly undeserved romanticism into what most likely was a platonic dinner. All the movies portrayed romantic dinner as being candle lit ordeals, almost always finished over dessert and red wine. Think: "Lady and the Tramp."
"Italian it is."
We passed three restaurants that boasted Italian or Italian-inspired menus posted on the walls near their entrances, but Daniel walked past them quickly without stopping. At the fourth, a small hole-in-the-wall place of exposed brick and rustic charm, as the newspaper critics would undoubtedly say, he opened the heavy glass door and held it open for me.
We were seated at a small table near the back, the college-aged hostess smiling warmly as she handed us our menus.
"You boys enjoy your dinner."
"It's his birthday," Daniel said as she prepared to leave.
The hostess patted my shoulder and offered me a genuine, "Happy Birthday, sweetheart," as she left. As she returned to her post, I heard her whisper, "So friggin' cute," under her breath.
"I think she thinks this is a date." I said, immediately regretting the decision to open my mouth, as was often the case for me.
"And?" Daniel said, looking at me over the cloth-lined table and smiling. Candlelight did nothing to reduce the effect that smile had on me. Just the opposite. I didn't think he could be any more beautiful than he already was, but put a Sicilian boy in a candle lit Italian restaurant and you increase his general attractiveness quotient by a power of ten.
"Just saying," I offered, low and breathy, terrified to speak above a whisper for fear my resolve and my voice would both crack.
We ordered and were soon chatting amiably about life and school and our future college plans. Daniel had gotten into the State university, and I was still deciding between two Ivy League options, my mom and grandfather's alma mater, and a prestigious arts conservatory. The conversation flowed easily and in minutes, all of my fears and trepidation were washed away and I relaxed into the banquette. I was stunned at how well we got on, how simply things seemed to work between us.
In the middle of a story about my very angst ridden little sister and her current penchant for Sylvia Plath and stealing my oversized button downs and sweaters, I choked on my Diet Coke when I felt Daniel's foot travel up my leg under the table. He had removed his shoe and his sock-lined foot traced a slow path over my calf and knee.
He didn't say anything and I couldn't. His foot pressed into my thigh and slowly inched towards my crotch until he found his mark. He pressed firmly and giggled a bit when my eyebrows shot up.
My cock responded immediately, making my jeans uncomfortable in moments, but his foot and toes were just as agile as his hands and fingers. He traced my length and we stared in silence over the flickering orange light, my eyes searching his for answers and finding only a mixture of teenaged mischief and glee.
"Do you boys want to box this up and take it with you?" our waiter asked, startling me. I hadn't heard him approach. Truth be told, I hadn't heard anything since Daniel's foot began his journey of exploration.
"Sure." Daniel said, not looking at him, still staring into my eyes, daring me to make some sort of indication of what he was doing to me beneath the tablecloth. To give away our little game.
Our dishes were cleared and doggy bags brought back to us in short order.
"You are so mean," I said, teasing him, but not entirely untruthful.
"We had to pass three other Italian places before I found one with tablecloths, so I could do this," he said, his foot still kneading my dick.
I suppressed my moan and did everything I could to stop my eyelids from fluttering. All I really wanted was to melt into the seat. Or dive under the table and suck his cock right there in front of the other diners. Whichever I could do first.
"You sneaky little...," his foot pressed harder, stopping my insult.
"Come on. Let's head back."
In a flash, his foot was gone from between my legs and he stood. How he got his shoe back on so quickly, I'll never understand, but there is much about Daniel that will always remain a mystery to me. I took a little solace in seeing that I wasn't the only one who had to hold his doggy bag over his lap to cover his obvious arousal. At least both of us were slightly uncomfortable, though Daniel showed no sign of it, walking out of the restaurant after paying for our meals with his normal confident swagger.
As we walked back towards the hotel, past the same restaurants and cafes Daniel had apparently decided against on purpose, my cock slowly began to deflate.
"I'm going to get you for that little trick when we get back."
He laughed, his head falling back, a full throated sound that sent me into a nose dive of shivers and anticipation.
"Promise?" he joked and elbowed me in the ribs.
"You can bet on it."
"I'm going to hold you to that."
The scene was set. My softening cock hardened again knowing that something, not sure what, was going to happen when we returned to the room. Both of us quickened our pace a bit, though neither of us would have admitted to the fact under torture.
When he pressed the button for the floor that would lead to our room, he stared straight at the shiny metal doors and said: "I have a surprise for you when we get back."
He'd already surprised me more than I thought I could handle; from the first exploit the night before to the airplane bathroom and kiss and, finally, at dinner with his game of footsie. What else could he possibly do that could shock me further?
"Oh?" I asked.
"Mmhmm."
He rocked back and forth on his heels like a child waiting to be allowed downstairs on Christmas morning. The elevator doors opened. This time, neither of us made any attempt at walking at a pace that could be called dignified. We didn't run, per se, but it was a close call.
Daniel entered first, his coat making a pile on the floor before I had even fully entered. His sweater and undershirt followed in rapid succession. He seemed in a great hurry to remove his clothes, as if he felt suddenly restricted by them. I was only two paces behind him when he whirled and turned on me with a speed I hadn't expected. One moment, I was staring at the rippled muscles of his back, and the next his eyes were before me and his hands gripped my shoulders.
I swear that both of my feet left the ground. He physically threw me onto the bed with such force that I bounced, my breath leaving my lungs, my eyes still attempting to adjust and having difficulty. I may have hit the ceiling for all I know had Daniel not jumped onto me and pinned me down before I had the chance. His speed was stunning. He had my wrists in a tight grip and wrenched them above my head, trapping them to the headboard, his hips pressed unyieldingly into me, holding me down.
My heart raced and my breath came in short gasps. My head reeled and I couldn't wrap my mind around what was happening to me. His mouth on mine finished any hopes I'd had for rescue. Soft and firm at the same time, they pressed into me and I gave way. His tongue wrestled mine, my legs opened and he ground himself into me with me a lust I had never experienced before. I was vulnerable to him, to anything he wanted to do to me. My hands were trapped in his, my soft parts exposed to him, but the hardness of his body protected me, sheltered me, and moved against mine as if to say, "you're safe, let go. I've got you."
When our lips parted and he traveled down my neck with soft kisses mixed with firmer bites, I moaned and raised my hips a bit so I could feel his hardness press into my ass through our pants.
"Oh fuck, Daniel...," I was lucky to get those meager words out.
As quickly as he'd begun, he sprung back from me, my arms suddenly released and my torso free from the much loved pressure of his body. He knelt between my legs, his cock clearly outlined in his jeans and jumping with his heart beat. I wanted to reach forward and grab it, remove the barrier that separated me from his nakedness.
"You ready for my surprise?" he asked, his hands on my knees and traveling slowly towards my hips, pressing firmly, squeezing my thighs in his grip.
"But wait? There's more?" I intoned in my best infomercial voice.
He smiled and leaned forward to brush a kiss as soft as the breath of spring against my lips before athletically springing from the bed and heading towards the dresser. Not that I didn't appreciate the view of his bubble butt in his jeans and the line of his back expanding into wide shoulders, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss him on top of me. Crave it would be more accurate. My hips still writhed in anticipation of having him back on top of me. Or in me. Anything. Just...him.
When he turned around he had an object in each hand, holding them out to me for inspection. In one hand he had a slim purple metallic vibrator, about 6 inches long and maybe 3 inches in circumference. In the other, a metal cock ring of a moderate thickness.
"Well? Happy Birthday, nerd."
What was I supposed to say?
"Thanks." I offered with as much appreciation as I could muster, when all I really wanted was to shred his jeans with my teeth. "But, I already have a vibrator at home, and a few dildos too."
"Oh, that's not for you."
He raised one arched eyebrow in a questioning glance towards me.
That made me sit up and take notice. I raised myself onto my elbows and returned the glance. He advanced towards me slowly, still holding each of his presents.
"If last night was any indication, and this morning...and the airplane...and all day in my head...and at dinner...then I have some serious exploration to do. Thought this might help." He waved the purple vibrator in the air.
"And this," he held out the metal cock ring, "looked interesting and I thought it might look good on you."
He stayed where he was, some four feet from me, holding his present, naked from the waist up as looked down at me. His eyes were thoughtful and sincere, but there was a skittishness behind them, a nervousness that hinted at a fear of rejection. It was a fear he needn't have nursed.
I was touched at his thoughtfulness. And extremely turned on at the prospect of his "serious exploration." In the space of a day we had gone from unknown entities, to messing around, to exploring, and had apparently progressed to "serious exploration."
This was the best 18th Birthday in the entire fucking history of 18th Birthdays.
I nodded and smiled. My arms reached towards him and I gestured for him to return to me.
"Good!" he giggled, the nervousness melting from him as he fell back on top of me and grabbed my head in his hands, the cock ring and vibrator thrown to the mattress, forgotten for now while he showered me in fiercely passionate kisses.
Our clothing was removed in a flurry of awkward horizontal motions and groans as we tumbled on the bed, unwilling to part from each other for the length of time it took to unbutton or unzip various articles. Finally, I reveled in the warmth, the nearly uncomfortable heat, of his naked skin pressed into mine, our legs tangled and moving as if trying to run a marathon while lining down.
Our hard dicks rubbed together between us, pressed between out torsos. I could feel our precum mixing and lubricating our stiffness as his hands groped at my ass and I returned the favor. I wanted to press myself into him until we merged, tried to pull him into me with all of my strength. I pushed the small voice that wondered at the intimacy of it all, the nearness of this unknown entity who seemed to want me, desire me, and crave my touch as much as I wanted him, desired him, and craved his touch.
Up and down lost all meaning for me. Somehow, I positioned myself on top of him and found my arms on his wrists while our mouths were still locked together and our tongues did what actual speech seemed incapable of achieving. The reversal of our previous dynamic, with me now on top and covering his muscled body was not lost on Daniel, but he reacted by redoubling his passion, if such was even possible. Being in the forced but comfortably submissive position activated something in him. He moaned into my kiss and wrapped his thighs around mine, seeking to pull me into him ever closer.
Doubt was gone, forgotten in the haze of his taste, his obvious lust for me. I kissed his neck and let my tongue trace over his collar bones. His hands wound into my hair and eased me down with gentle pressure. I took one dark nipple in my mouth and bit down, harder than I had ever before.
"Shit," he groaned, his fingers tightening.
I kissed down his ribs, moved to his abs, and followed the line of his treasure trail to the defined V of his obliques. His hips pressed up to meet my advance, his cock throbbing in the open air.
When my lips closed over him, his back arched, head thrown back to the pillows, and I thought he would gag me as he pushed himself into my throat. But I opened for him and felt him fill me completely. I reveled in the flavor of his skin, the sweet saltiness of the precum that leaked from him. The tip of my tongue gathered his nectar and swallowed him down, making quick circles over his most sensitive spots.
"David...," his voice was hoarse. "Don't stop."
I had no intentions of stopping. My hands grasped his hips and I encouraged him to thrust into me. His body undulated, his stomach tightening and loosening as he rhythmically fucked my mouth. It drove me insane. I felt my lips brush his pelvis, his hairs tickling my nose, and I held him there, tightening my throat around his girth.
"I....I...Oh, Jesus. Fuck!" Daniel wasn't even trying to modulate his volume, his fingers running through my hair and tracing the line of my jaw with a gentle firmness.
It was the hardest thing I'd had to to, but I pulled myself from him and grasped his now slick cock in my hand, feeling his foreskin react to my manipulations. I jerked him slowly as I moved to his hole, knowing exactly what that would do to him. When my tongue met his pink opening, his reaction didn't disappoint.
I had plans for him tonight. Plans I was desperate to enact and I took consistent steps to that end.
I rimmed him, wetting his hole as best I could, tightening my tongue so I could fuck him and flick against him. He let out a constant stream of wordless grunts and breathless moans, ragged and raw, holding my head to his ass, urging me onwards.
"Lube," I said.
Daniel reacted as if I'd said "dinner," and he hadn't eaten in weeks. He reached into the top drawer of the bedside table and removed a small tube of clear lube.
"You were ready for this, weren't you?" I teased.
"Shut up and fuck me."
The amiable nature I had grown fond of over the past day was gone, replaced by animalistic urgency. His hips writhed on the bed, his hole exposed to the air through his wide open legs, the powerful muscles of his ass rising and falling, tempting me to explore their secrets.
I retrieved the purple vibrator from the disheveled bedspread and generously lubricated its smooth surface. Watching me as I worked the phallic length of the toy, Daniel moaned, his body and mind entirely ready for what was about to happen to him.
"Fuck, that's hot," he said as he watched me.
I teased his hole with the tapered tip, pressing it lightly to his skin, but not enough to enter him. His eyes were locked on mine, his bottom lip gripped between his teeth.
"You like that?" I asked.
He only nodded. His hands grabbed at the covers, drawing handfuls towards him, his ass pushing against the vibrator at his opening, seeking it out.
I pressed it inside him, the tapered end disappearing with ease. He pressed back against it, and his back arched until his shoulders left the mattress.
"Ahhhhhh yes!"
I pulled it out slowly, and then pushed in again, letting an inch more disappear. He was having no problems. Far from it, he was repeating, "Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, god," in a constant stream like a broken record.
"You want more?" I teased, holding it inside him, about a third of the way in.
He whimpered and vigorously nodded. His hands sprung to the pillow behind him and gripped it tightly, doing all he could to hold on as he rode the waves of pleasure.
I obliged him. I pressed the vibrator firmly inside him. I took my time, allowing a full minute to pass as centimeter by centimeter, the toy vanished. Finally, only the black base, the mechanism used to turn it on, which I hadn't yet done, was visible.
Daniel let out a roar, an actual roar. His upper body leaned forward, one arm grabbing my neck and pulling me down to kiss him violently the other hand on top of my own, holding the vibrator inside of him. His hips bucked against the toy and our hands holding it inside, our tongues mingled and pushed together, unable to dislodge from this closeness.
I twisted the vibrator and pulled it back a few inches and then twisted it again as I pushed it back inside. He growled into our kiss. I repeated, this time further, harder. In moments, I was fucking him with the toy at a rapid pace, feeling his body react beneath our embrace, letting his groans and kisses be my guide. Each time it was ensconced in him to the hilt, his body trembled, an unconscious shiver that I felt distinctly as he wriggled beneath me.
"I can't stand it!" he yelled in a momentary break between our kisses. "I can't!"
I don't know if it was meant to be a challenge, but I took it as one. Something in me snapped, a deviousness and a desire to watch him squirm, to expand his horizons to a place that he'd never seen, but that I wanted, needed, him to see with me. I rolled off of him a bit, opening a space between us for the first time since we'd begun. With sure fingers, I twisted the base of the vibrator when it was all the way inside of him, activating the toy and revealing the truth of it's name.
I'm not sure, but Daniel may have actually passed out.
When the sound of the mechanics working inside him hit my ears, Daniel's fingernails dug into the skin of my back and his mouth opened in a wordless scream of pleasure. His eyes closed, his hips left the bed. I held the vibrator inside of him, pushing it mercilessly in as far as it would go. For moments that stretched into eternity, Daniel hung like that in the air, only his shoulders and the soles of his feet touching the mattress, his hole convulsing around the toy, his mouth opened but no sound escaping.
I watched his balls contract, pulling up tightly to his body as a stream of his cum flew from his uncut dick with such force as to actually seem to pain him. Neither he nor I had touched his member. It hit the wall behind him, flying over his head and the pillows and headboard to splash audibly against the wallpaper, a distance of at least four feet.
Breath seemed to return to him and he started to groan and whimper, his eyes still sightlessly locked on the ceiling as the second and third jets met the first, traveling slowly to the headboard and then painting his ecstasy riddled features in his own whiteness. His hips fell to the mattress, but I held the vibrator firmly in place, not allowing him the release from this. Not yet.
Faster and faster he whimpered and groaned, his abs contracting, his cock pulsing and spewing his seed onto his chest and then his stomach. His eyes wandered to his own crotch, watching as his orgasm subsided, a look of confused pleasure, as if he couldn't yet fully comprehend what had just happened to his body.
With the toy still working inside of him, I slowly began to move it back and forth, teasing out the last of his juices but still not touching his bouncing hardness. Gently, I leaned down to his stomach and licked his cum from his skin, gathering it into my mouth and swallowing it while savoring his taste.
Deliberately, with decisive motions, I kissed and lick the cum from his body, taking my time, still massaging his prostate with the vibrator as I traveled. When I reached the cum that had plastered across his face and gently gathered it up, he turned his lips to meet mine and kissed me softly, thankfully. His body shook under my touch. I turned the vibrator off and felt him relax under me, finally free of the wracking pleasure for a moment, easing back down to some semblance of normalcy. I removed it from him and felt him sigh into me, his hands traveling to my face and gently holding me to him, our kisses lighter and gentler, slower and full of...something I couldn't define. Or was afraid to.
Our naked bodies faced each other, each on our sides, his leg over mine, our cocks still pressed together, our hips still moving in time to each other, but without the lust of the previous minutes. Or hours. Who knew how long that had lasted?
After some time, Daniel pulled my face from his and stared into my eyes. The smile he gave me as he held my face between his palms was something I will take to my grave. We stayed like that, looking at each other, memorizing the features of the man across from us, his hands on my face, mine running along his spine and exploring the firm mounds of his ass.
"Did you...," I began, unsure what to say, frightened of saying the wrong thing.
He nodded. And smiled.
For the first time since I'd begun my sexual life, I had absolutely no desire to reach my own orgasm. I didn't need to. Daniel's face as I'd driven him on, lead him to that spectacular eruption, was more than enough for me. More than any orgasm could have hoped to achieve.
When Daniel reached for my dick and began to masturbate me with quicker motions, I stopped his hand and shook my head. His eyes were pained for a moment, but I reassured him.
"You don't have to," I said quietly.
"But I want to," he offered.
"I know. And I want you to. Just not now. Let's just..."
The words I'd wanted to say failed me. I didn't know how to explain to him the joy and utter bliss I was floating on. That I didn't want to do anything that might jeopardize that feeling, even if it meant forgoing my own corporeal release.
Daniel, being the ever more mysterious creature he was becoming, just smiled and placed his lips over mine.
Eventually, our bodies relaxed and our erections deflated. Somehow we positioned ourself so that his head was nestled on my chest, my arm over his shoulder. His leg rested on mine and his cock pressed into my side. He ran his fingers along my stomach, hips, and toyed gently with my cock. It wasn't sexual, his meandering, but revelatory.
I trembled. This time, for a much different reason.
I felt his breathing deepen, the rise and fall of his chest pressed into my side getting longer and slower. I twirled his short hair around my fingers and stared at the ceiling, listening to his heart beat as he drifted off to sleep next to me.
I lay like that for a long while, naked and vulnerable, Daniel's hard body wrapped around me and pressed into mine. I thought of what this day had been, what it had meant. To me.
How could I express that to Daniel?
Should I even try?
Behind it all, bubbling under the surface of the tentative joy of the last day, lurked the fear of what would happen when we returned to school.
After tonight, we had one more day and one more night before we headed home. All of this could change. Would change. But to what?
Daniel's voice floated in my mind. Something he had said earlier.
"Celebrate your victories."
I decided he was right.
Right now, this moment and this day had been a victory. For me and, hopefully, for Daniel. What tomorrow brought was unknown. But for now, I would celebrate and revel in the victory. Tomorrow was far away. Come what may, I had to enjoy what had happened, what was awoken in me.
I drifted to sleep with a smile on my face, determined to leave behind fear and uncertainty, determined to celebrate the bewitching boy who slumbered next to me.
For as long as I possibly could.