Unrequited Ch. 05
West calls me during the week and invites me round to his place, the following Friday. He's still getting settled in and wants to try out his new barbeque.
"I have beers and some steak." He says.
"Do you want me to bring anything?"
"Hmm," he says, thoughtfully, "do you have any weed?"
I laugh. As a matter of fact, I do happen to have some weed. These days, I only smoke once in a blue moon, but I have some left over from a few months ago.
"Sure, I'll bring some."
"Great, it will be a blast from the past."
And, it is. We have a few beers and eat our meal. Afterwards, we sit on an old sofa on his balcony and light up.
"Don't inhale too much." I warn him.
"I know how to smoke, you dumbass." He says, inhaling deeply and then immediately coughing and spluttering. "Oooh, shit," he laughs, "maybe, I don't."
I laugh too. I take a couple of puffs and we both sit back, looking out at the view over the city. I'm feeling happy. It's not very good weed. It isn't very strong, but I'm feeling a little relaxed and a bit mellow. I look over at him. I can see he feels the same way.
He sighs a big, contented smile and is quiet for a while. He seems deep in thought.
"Do you know, I finally plucked up the courage to ask my mom who my dad is."
I look at him in surprise. "What did she say?"
He starts laughing, a deep, throaty chuckle.
"You won't believe it. Even if I tell you, you honestly won't believe it."
"Well, don't leave me hanging. What did she say?"
"Okay," he says, looking at me, "I'll tell you. She said, she was travelling. She was visiting London. She'd been to see a show in the West End, and she happened to find herself in a quaint little pub. She met a group of guys there, and..." He pauses dramatically.
"She landed up going home with them."
"Them? So, which one is your father?" I ask.
"Well, that's the beauty of the situation. She has no way of knowing." He snorts out of his nose slightly. "She says, it was an orgy."
"Good God!" I exclaim, I'm shocked, but I'm also doing my damnedest not to laugh, the effort is making my eyes water. "How many guys were there?"
"Four," he says seriously, "four, she thinks."
"Oh, holy fuck!" I'm laughing now. I just can't help it. The look on West's face is absolutely priceless.
"She can't remember their names. She thinks, one might have been called David. So, that's not very helpful, is it? She can't even remember the name of the pub. All she knows, is that it started in the West End."
I look at him, I'm laughing uncontrollably, "So, you're West from the West End."
He's laughing too. He's laughing so much, tears are running down his face, "Exactly."
"Oh, God," I say, when the laughter finally dies down, "it makes perfect sense. I'm telling you, West, it makes perfect, perfect sense. Of course, you were made in an orgy. Of course, you were. No-one as amazing as you, could ever have been made by two people having straight, vanilla sex. It just wouldn't have been possible."
He looks at me slowly. He blinks a few times. "D'you know, I think that might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me, Andy. In fact, I think it might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."
"Talking about orgy's," I say, taking another swig of my beer, "you must be looking forward to getting back in the saddle."
"What do you mean?" He says, "Dating again? Oh, God, I wouldn't even know where to start."
"Well," I say, matter-of-factly, "you have so many options. You've got Tinder, Hinge, OK Cupid, etcetera etcetera. Honestly, you straight people are spoilt for choice."
He's quiet for a while. For some reason, the mood seems to shift. He stares out into the distance. He takes a couple of careful breaths.
"I'm not straight." He says so quietly, it's little more than a whisper.
"What?" I say loudly, "Of course you are. Don't be ridiculous. You've always been straight."
"I'm not." His voice is still quiet, but it's a bit stronger this time.
"Since when have you not been straight?" I demand. For some reason, I feel a little annoyed.
"I don't know if I've ever been straight. For me, it's not that cut and dried. I think, in some ways, it's always been there, I just didn't know what it was. For me, I guess, it hasn't been that easy to know what this thing in me is. It's not that simple, when you're easily and often attracted to women. Because that's the case, I guess, I just thought, "Well, great. I'm into girls, that's one less thing to worry about." But I think it's always been there."
I look at him quickly. He's still looking out into space. He takes a sip of his beer. My head feels foggy and thick.
"I've always had these particular guys in my life. They've always been there. Guys, I just really want to be around, you know? I always told myself, they were my really, really good friends. It's normal to want to spend all your time with your friends, right? Everyone does, right? It was different for me though. I'm telling you, I followed these guys around like a puppy dog. I had no idea what I wanted from them, but I just couldn't stay away from them. There was Lucas Murray in middle school and Dylan Haynes in high school."
He still looking out, but he's smiling now. He's smiling a little.
"And of course," he says, sounding a little dreamy, "there was Andy Montgomery from university days."
I do a sharp double take and sit up a little straighter.
What the hell did he just say?
Holy shit. Maybe, that weed was stronger than I thought.
His voice is soft, but clear, as he adds, "For some reason, I never could shake that one."
What?
What the fuck is going on here? How stoned am I right now?
My chest feels tight and my heart is pounding. I feel confused and on the verge of panic. I jump up off the sofa we've been sitting on and head to the balcony railing, trying to steady myself and get some fresh air. The irony of trying to get fresh air, when I'm already outdoors, is not lost on me.
What in God's name is going on here? Has West lost his mind, or have I?
I look back at where he's sitting, but he's not there anymore. He's up, and he's standing a few feet away from me. He has a strange look on his face. It's not one I've seen on him before. I've never seen anything like it on him. I feel instantly and inexplicably terrified. I feel more afraid than I've felt in my life.
"Please, Andy," he says. His voice is different. Something about it is different now, "Please. If you're ever going to make your move, please, make it now."
I feel like I've fallen through a trap door. I look at him standing there, and I know instantly, I'm zero percent over West. I'm not even close. In fact, I'm still falling.
He has his arms at his sides and he's looking at me intently. His eyes are blazing bright green. They're reflecting the night city lights, but they are reflecting much more. His mouth falls open a little, I can see a little tautness, a little tension in his neck, as he swallows.
I'm still trying to decipher his words. My mind is moving slowly, struggling to make sense of these crazy events. My body moves quickly though. It's driven by instinct. It doesn't wait for me to tell it; This is a mistake. He's drunk and he's stoned.
I pull him toward me and crush my mouth onto his. I find his open. Mine's open too. Our tongues rise to meet each other at the same time. They're strong and they're equal. They both want each other. It's a wild, lustful kiss. I'm stunned by the force of it. I've never felt anything like it. It's a kiss that makes you feel like you're being pulled. You're being pulled by a force you can't see. A force that's bigger and stronger than you.
When I pull back, I feel very lightheaded.
I'm so confused.
This time, he reaches for me. He doesn't let me get away. He has his hands around my hips and he's dragging me towards him. Grinding his body against mine. Both of us are hard. Rock solid. I can't help pushing back, rocking my hips against him as he kisses me again.
This time, his hands start to wonder. He slides them up and down my chest. It isn't long, before he slides them up, under my shirt. They feel warm on my skin. His kisses move down. Down the side of my mouth, along my jaw. Nipping and scraping, making me gasp.
The second I gasp, I feel instant relief. As oxygen hits my lungs, I realise, I've forgotten to breath. The shock of what's happening seems to have cost me my breathing reflex.
He's kissing his way down my neck. His lips and his tongue are hot and leave a burning trail on my skin.
Breathe, I tell myself.
His hands are on me again, they're on my collar, on my buttons, worrying them, trying to pry them open.
"Andy," he murmurs, "I want more."
Breathe, I tell myself again.
He's looking at me. He's looking up at me and he's waiting. He looks hungry, but he's still waiting.
This is West, I remember, he doesn't touch anyone without their consent. He's so primed, he's clenching his jaw, but he's still waiting.
I close my eyes and give a small nod. I want more, too.
His hands and his mouth are on me again. They're on me hard. Unbuttoning my shirt, pulling it open. His hands on my chest, burning me. They're on my fly, pulling, unzipping, pushing my briefs down. He's moving fast.
Holy shit, I think when rational thought finally prevails. We're still outside, we're in the open.
"West," I say, "we can't do this here. We need to go inside."
He looks around dimly. I can tell, he forgot where we were.
We head inside quickly, closing the door and drawing the curtains. We've barely made it inside when he's on me again. He's all over me. He seems completely intent on getting his hands on my junk. He's not slowing down. He's a man in a frenzy. Truthfully, I'm in a frenzy too. My mind is still lagging, my brain can't compute, but my body know what it wants.
He drops to his knees in front of me.
Holy shit!
He's pulling my jeans and my underwear out of the way. He does it in a fury. I can see his hands are shaking. He can't seem to wait. It doesn't take long before he has what he wants. He has me. He has me, in his hands. His face is inches away from me. His eyes are completely glazed over. He's biting his bottom lip. He strokes me gently, tentatively, looking up in wonder, when my dick pulses in his hand.
He leans forward, pressing his face up against my groin, breathing me in, sighing softly. He has my dick in his hand, as he turns his face towards it, rubbing his cheek up against it, his mouth falling open as he does it.
Oh, God. I can tell that he wants it.
He wants it so much.
I'm almost beside myself. I feel like I'm out of my body. I feel like I'm floating. I can still feel everything he does to me though. I feel every hesitant touch. I feel every cautious breath. I feel everything and more. Every sense is heightened. Even his soft touch is so intense, right from the start, I'm fighting the urge to scream. I'm almost insane with desire.
I'm shaking as he opens his mouth. He licks me, timidly at first, but then with a little more certainty. It's clear that he has no clue what he's doing, but for some reason, right now, that only makes it hotter.
I moan as he sinks down on me, trying to take as much as he can, but not managing much. As I moan, I see his scar crease and when I look down, I see West, my West, on his knees, with my dick in his mouth, and a huge smile on his face.
Seeing him like that damned nearly undoes me. I almost explode right there and then. I clench everything I have, as I desperately try to hold on. I don't want to cum in his mouth. I don't want to freak him out. I don't want to break the spell. I don't want to change a thing, the only thing I want now, is the same thing I've always wanted. I want West. I want his body and I want his soul, but right now, I'd kill for his dick.
"My turn." I say.
I pull him up. He looks a little dazed and confused. I walk him backwards towards the sofa, as I pull off his t-shirt and unbuckle his belt. I yank down his pants and his boxers, before pushing him down on the sofa. I get down on my knees and as I do, he drops a scatter cushion onto the floor, kicking it gently under my knees.
Damn, West. Even at a time like this, you're sweet. So fucking sweet.
I look down at his dick and take a deep breath. For years, and I mean, years, I've dreamed of his dick. I've thought about it constantly. I've fantasised about it incessantly. I've spent hours and hours trying to convince myself that there's no way it could really be as great as I've made it out to be in my mind.
I must have been imagining it. How could it really be all that?
Believe it or not, it turns out, it really, really is all that. It's all that, and more. It's hard and it's straining. The thick vein running down it is pulsing. His skin is red and pulled tight with the effort to contain it.
My God.
I say a silent, "Thank you," to my old fuck buddy, 69cockscker69, for teaching me what I'm about to do to my friend. I feel like an athlete, who has completed his training. An athlete, who has spent his whole life preparing for this moment. I look up and smile.
I'm not just going to blow West. I'm going to blow his fucking mind.
I take him in both hands. He feels heavy and hot to the touch. The room goes blurry and my spine quivers, as we make contact. I lick him slowly, circling the tip until he starts to squirm. I look up at him, licking my lips, before diving in. I sink down on him and hear him sighing in pleasure. That's where he expects me to stop. That must be where Ashleigh used to stop. That's nowhere near where I'm going to stop. I open my throat, swallowing slightly as I take him in. He's so big and so thick, that it really isn't that easy.
Fortunately, it's not my first time.
I take him until I feel his hair brush up against my nose. His head flies back as his back arches involuntarily.
"Holy fuck!" He exclaims through gritted teeth.
I pull back a little, so I can make eye contact with him. His eyes are wide as saucers.
"Ooooh, fuuuck." He groans, as I sink down again.
Breathe, I tell myself, as I come up for air. He fills me so completely when I take him, that my airway is completely constricted.
"Oh, Jesus, Andy." He moans, "What the hell are you doing to me?"
I'm working him over properly now. I can tell he won't last long. He's writhing and panting, gasping for breath. Cursing and rocking his hips.
"Oh, fuck." He moans, again.
He's shaking now and I can see his abs clenching every time he breathes in. I reach down and take my dick in my hand stroking firmly as I give him full use of my mouth.
He's moaning unbridled. One long, unending moan. One moan seems to start before the previous one even dies down. His hands are clawing at the seat of the sofa, his nails digging in, leaving track marks in the leather.
His entire body goes stiff as he erupts in my mouth, he calls out, low and loud.
It's a beautiful sound. It's a sound that seems so familiar. It seems like a sound I've been meant to hear my whole life. I swallow and swallow and swallow and before I swallow the last drop, I arch back too. I cum harder than I can ever remember cumming. I cum so hard it almost hurts. I feel as though something is being ripped out of me. Torn. My throat aches and my head spins as my dick pulses violently in my hand.
I take a while to recover. I stay on my knees, between his legs for a while. At last, I scramble up and sit on the sofa next to him. He looks as though he's in a trance. I can't say I blame him. I feel stunned, too. We sit there, next to each other, not talking, just looking straight ahead for a long time. Even though it definitely should be, the silence between us isn't awkward. Neither of us move and neither of us speak until at last, he leans over, and puts his head on my shoulder. The tension leaves my body and something resembling peace washes over me.
I hear his breathing start to slow.
Mine's nowhere near normal.
*
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