PART III
Coupledom
“
T
his is totally blowing my mind,” Kyle said as he flipped through the book and stuck little yellow Post-Its on the pages he liked. “We're finally doing it. Five years together and we're finally getting married.” He looked at Preston and smiled as he kissed him on the lips. “I mean, look at us. We're picking out wedding invitations, for crying out loud.”
“Yeah, it is kinda weird, isn't it?” Preston said. He touched Kyle's knee and caressed it. “But good weird, right?”
“Absolutely, good weird. Never in my life did I think this would happen. Every time I thought about what it would be like to be gay, it was a depressing picture. Alone, going out every night and getting drunk almost every night, spending my life alone. Or worse, with a different nameless trick every week.”
“That's what a lot of people want us to believe our lives as gay men are fated to be. But look what happens when we don't listen to them and we believe in ourselves and take control of our own lives,” Preston said. “We get married.”
They looked at each other for a long moment, and then kissed.
“I like this one,” Kyle said, breaking the kiss and pointing to the invitation on the open page of the book. It was a simple design, a single red rose lying atop a grand piano. Inside the card was stylish but simple text that, of course, would be tailored for the couple.
Preston wrinkled his nose, and flipped the book back a few pages, and pointed to the one he liked. It was a picture of two guys, holding hands and dressed in nothing but long cotton pants rolled halfway up their shins and walking in ankle-deep water along a deserted beach. The sun was almost over the horizon, and splashed brilliant reds and oranges and purples across the sky and reflected off the water.
“That one is pretty,” Kyle said, and sighed. “But it's a little girlish, don't you think?”
“Girlish? Those are two men holding hands. Where's a girl?”
“I didn't say there was a girl there. It's just kinda foo-foo. So colorful. You know all of the little queens are gonna love that one, but our butch friends are gonna laugh their asses off if we go with that one. And never mind what my parents will think.”
“You're right. Never mind what they will think. Or anyone else, for that matter. This is our wedding. Yours and mine. You like the picture ... the idea and the thought that comes to mind when you see it?”
“Yes.”
“Then that's the one we're going with. Besides, we're going to Puerto Vallarta for our honeymoon. This card is perfect.”
“But ...”
“Wrap it,” he waved the sales clerk over. “We'll take 250 of these.”
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“Are you sure it isn't bad luck to do this the night before the wedding?” Kyle asked.
Preston slid Kyle's underwear off and spread his legs apart so he could lie between them. Kyle's cock was fully hard and already leaking precum.
“No,” Preston said, and licked the precum from Kyle's cock head. “It's bad luck to see you in your wedding clothes before the wedding. Thank god no clothes are involved here.”
He licked around the head and then up the shaft of Kyle's cock for a moment, and smiled as Kyle squirmed and moaned beneath him. Even after five years, Preston never failed to make his lover writhe in pleasure and struggle to keep from cumming too soon.
“Stop it,” Kyle begged, with no conviction at all. He was lifting his hips up off the bed and moaning as he pretended to try to get away.
“You're not going anywhere,” Preston said. He reached under the bed and pulled up a long, thin strand of leather. He tied Kyle's right hand to the right headboard post, and then did the same with his left hand.
“No, please,” Kyle pleaded. It was a game they'd played every now and then for the past nine months or so. Both of them enjoyed being tied up, but usually Preston preferred it more. Tonight, however, Preston had taken control and hadn't really given Kyle much of a choice.
There was no sincerity at all in Kyle's voice as he asked for mercy. Preston knew his lover wanted it a little rough. “You talk too much,” he said, and straddled Kyle's chest and slapped his hard cock against Kyle's cheeks and lips.
Kyle stuck his tongue out and licked at the hard cock as it hit his face, lapping at it and catching just the head of it in his mouth for a few seconds at a time.
There were few things Preston enjoyed more than having his cock sucked. And Kyle was an expert at sucking his cock. With most guys it would take hours for him to cum from being blown, and most guys, understandably, gave up after half an hour or so. But with Kyle it was different, and always had been. Even when they first got together and he wasn't as experienced at cocksucking, Kyle had shown an innate ability to learn quickly and master the art. His mouth was always hot and wet and strong, and he could usually get Preston to shoot his load in a matter of minutes.
Kyle smiled to himself as he swallowed Preston's cock and saw the look of pleasure in his lover's face. He watched as Preston closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and licked his lips as his cock disappeared down his throat. Then he tightened his throat muscles around the hard cock, and Preston moaned loudly before pulling his cock out of Kyle's mouth.
“Fuck, baby,” he said huskily, “you're gonna make me cum too fast if you keep that up.”
“What's wrong, honey?” Kyle teased. “Don't you wanna cum?”
“Not now. Not like this.”
“Then how?” he asked in a much deeper and in-control voice.
“You know what I want.”
“Then shut the fuck up and take it,” Kyle said roughly, even as he struggled against the leather straps that bound him to the bed.
Preston moved between Kyle's legs and began sucking his cock. God, how he loved the taste and feel of his lover's hard dick in his mouth. Kyle moaned and wiggled around as his cock was being sucked, but Preston knew he was gearing up for something more. Something better. He made sure as he sucked Kyle's dick that there was plenty of spit left on the cock.
“Stop messing around and sit on my cock, baby,” Kyle said, in a tone somewhere between early Marlon Brando and current Justin Timberlake.
That voice, that tone, those words, drove Preston crazy, and when he looked up into Kyle's eyes, his heart melted. Those long, black, curly eyelashes had always done Preston in. And right now Kyle's five o'clock shadow and soft, full, pink lips were making him quiver. He'd never been more in love with Kyle than he was at this moment.
Preston sat up and kissed Kyle passionately on the lips, then positioned the head of Kyle's cock right at his asshole. It was still slick with his saliva, and he slid down the length of the dick in one slow and deliberate move. When every inch of Kyle was inside him, he squeezed his ass, and smiled as Kyle moaned his approval.
“Untie me now,” Kyle said. “I want to hold you as I fuck your ass.”
“No,” Preston said. “You just lie there and let me fuck your dick.”
Kyle's eyes bulged, and he stared at his lover as if he'd never seen him. But he had to admit that his cock hardened even more as Preston kept him tied to the headboard and pinned to the mattress as he rode his cock mercilessly.
They usually switched positions and varied their styles a few times during a sex session, but tonight Preston was hot and wild and restless, and was having a hard time holding back his orgasm. So he gave in to the tingle that shot all the way through his body, and allowed himself to just go with the flow. He leaned down and kissed Kyle, causing his ass to tighten around Kyle's cock when he did. He slid up and down the hard shaft as he kissed his lover, and before long he felt the beginning tingles deep inside his balls. From Kyle's heavy breathing, he could tell he was getting close too.
“I'm close, baby,” Kyle moaned, and slammed his cock harder and deeper into Preston's tight ass.
“Me too,” Preston said. He slid off Kyle's cock and turned his body around and on top of Kyle's so that his cock hovered over Kyle's head and his own face was only inches from his lover's cock.
“FUUUUUCCCKKKK!” Kyle yelled between clenched teeth. A second later his cock shot three huge spurts of cum onto Preston's face, and then a couple more dribbled onto his own tummy.
Preston licked around his lips to get as much of his partner's cum as possible, and then licked the rest from Kyle's stomach. “Here I cum,” he said.
Kyle opened his mouth and took five or six large squirts of Preston's load. More was coming, but Kyle started to gag, so he closed his mouth and let the rest of his lover's load land on his lips and chin and chest. He swallowed the load he'd taken in his mouth, then pulled Preston's cock into his mouth and sucked on it some more, milking every last drop of cum from his thick cock.
“Damn, that was hot,” Preston said as he rolled onto his back next to Kyle. He put his arm around his partner, and kissed him.
“Yes, it was,” Kyle said, still trying to catch his breath.
“Will you marry me? And fuck me like that at least three or four times a week for the rest of our lives?”
“You already asked me that.”
“And what did you say?”
“I said yes.” Kyle he smiled and kissed Preston. “But only if you untie me. These straps are starting to hurt.”
“Oh fuck,” Preston said, and began to untie the straps. “I forgot.”
“It's okay. It was a lot of fun.”
“And just when did we say we were getting married again?”
“Tomorrow, sweetie. Tomorrow.”
“Oh yes, that's right,” Preston said, and leaned down to kiss Kyle again. “Then we'd better get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”
Kyle laughed and rolled into Preston's arms and hugged him tightly. They fell asleep in one another's arms a couple of minutes later.
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“That was one fucking amazing wedding,” Kyle said, and kissed Preston lovingly on the lips. They were on the plane, about halfway to Puerto Vallarta, and Kyle was irritated by a few of the passengers who were giving them peculiar looks. “Our honeymoon is gonna be the best damned honeymoon Puerto Vallarta has ever seen,” he said, intentionally loud enough for the annoying gawkers to hear. “It'll be one hell of a long time before that city forgets our honey-moon.”
And that was a very true statement. They were there for ten days, and the first seven were nothing short of magical. Every day was the same routine for them. Magical, but exactly the same, with minor variations occasionally.
They stayed at a hotel/condo, where every unit was a one-or two-bedroom fully furnished apartment, and just a block and a half from the beach. They slept in until eleven o'clock every morning, and then went immediately down to the beach. The “Blue Chairs” section of Playa de los Muertos beach was the “gay beach” in PV. It was named for the blue lounge chairs used by the owners of the gay hotel and palapas along a section of the beach. The Blue Chairs and the adjoining Green Chairs were famous worldwide for being the gay mecca of Mexico. By noon, the place would be packed like a can of sardines, so Kyle and Preston woke a little earlier than most and got there just in time to get VIP seating under a shaded palapa at the front, closest to the shoreline.
They stayed at the beach, soaking up the sun, soaking up the alcohol, and soaking up the flirtatious attention many of the other men gave them. They even ate lunch right there on the beach. Local vendors swarmed the Blue Chairs area because it was a well-known fact that the gay tourists in PV were very generous. They easily supported a dozen or more of the more popular and gregarious vendors to the point that the vendors didn't need a second job, unlike most other people. Kyle and Preston got caught up in the energy of the beach culture, and bought much more than they should have. Kyle bought Preston a couple of ankle bracelets and a gorgeous handmade beaded mosaic painting of a sunset along the PV beach. Preston bought Kyle some handmade leather sandals, a couple of shirts, and a tiger's eye choker.
One afternoon they took a horseback tour into the foothills around town, and another afternoon they went on a snorkeling excursion that took them to a private island where all the gay boys had a barbecue and played volleyball in the nude and snuck off to private spots on the island.
But other than that, their afternoons were spent shopping and having at blast at the happy hour at Vallarta Cora, a gay condo/hotel just a few blocks from the beach. Happy hour was from four to eleven, and was always packed with a line out the door. The bar was situated around the pool, which sat in the middle of the courtyard surrounded by apartments. It was a clothing-optional resort, and most people at happy hour opted for no clothing. Guests who actually stayed at the hotel had a habit of being naked in their rooms with their doors left open as the night grew later, so the place became more of a bathhouse than a hotel. Everything was allowed here: drinks in the pool, balloons and balls in the pool, sex in the pool. And all of that was allowed, and taken advantage of, in every other corner of the resort as well. The newlyweds spent a lot of time there, and made many new friends.