Better Than Another Man (6 page)

Carey slowed to nuzzle a puckered nipple and I quivered, but it wasn’t a good shiver. I wasn’t ready for that. He seemed to sense it and continued, kissing, licking and softly sucking until he reached the draw sting at my waist. I hadn’t bothered to tie it. He ran his warm wet tongue along the waistband and by accident or design, he touched the tip of my engorged cock.

I reacted immediately, gripping the head protectively. “Whoa!” I sat up quickly, pushing at his shoulder with my other hand. He moved to a sitting position, facing me.

I exhaled and apologised.

“No need. What would you like? What do you think we could do to help you relax?”

I shrugged. I had no idea. I wasn’t sure that I could loosen up, not without alcohol.

“Here, why don’t you turn over? I can give you a massage. Sound good?”

I thought about how his strong hands felt gripping my shoulder.

“Yeah.” I turned onto my stomach, tucking my hands under my chin.

“Why don’t you take these off?” Carey suggested, pulling lightly on my sweatpants. I knew that if I said no, he wouldn’t push the issue. But I lifted my hips and allowed him to strip them from me. His fingertips grazed my lower back and my skin twitched under his touch.

“I’m going to take mine off too. Alright?”

I grunted my agreement. I heard the rustling of him doing so, then the bed dipped as he straddled my lower legs. Carey began at my ankles and worked his way up, massaging my calves, then my thighs with a solid grip, pausing just at the juncture where ass cheek met thigh. It felt so fuckin’ good, especially when he allowed his thumbs to tuck deeply into that crease, as if he was reaching toward my butt hole.

Carey moved up the bed, one leg on each side of my hips. His dick grazed my rear as he moved and I reflexively tightened.

“It’s okay. I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to. And I’ll tell you before I do. And I can promise you, you are nowhere near ready for that tonight, my friend.” And just those few simple words made me relax immeasurably.

Carey cupped my ass in his large warm hands, kneading my flesh.

“I retract my earlier insult. You have a fine ass!” Carey said, his voice husky with exertion and stimulation. “Not flabby at all. Nice and tight.” He gave me a playful swat.

“Thanks. I think.”

Working his way up my back, using his thumbs and fingertips, rough but soothing, eased some of the tension in me.

He finally made his way up to my shoulders. I felt his rigid cock brush and bob against my flesh, as he continued.

“Relax,” he crooned, grabbing my shoulders roughly, his fingers delving into my neck with force. He pulled backward, making my back arch slightly before releasing his grip to repeat the action, his sturdy fingers relaxing me, my muscles flexing under his heavy touch.

I moaned, it felt so good—the strength of his hold was arousing.

Carey moved his knees in closer to my hips, his cock resting in the hollow of my back in line with the crack of my ass. He skimmed his dick ever so gently in a rhythmic glide along the little crevice. My skin tingled everywhere that his touched mine.

I willed my butt to unclench some from the impulsive vice-like grip. The constant attention of his hands, his stroking hard dick along with the movement of the mattress, had me rocking my hips into the bed. If he kept this up, I would cum before he got anything out of this. And I had no idea what I would be able to do for him to help him out with that.

I rotated my hip slightly and he moved off me. I turned and sat up, trying to keep my eyes on his face, but I could see his stiffy in my peripheral.

“Feel good?”

“Felt incredible. But I don’t…what can I…” I exhaled loudly in frustration. I shrugged.

“What do you want to do? We don’t have to do anything.”

“I want you to get something out of this too.”

“Do you think you can you touch me?”

My cock jerked at his words.

I nodded and reached for him. He grasped me at the same time. We had our cocks in each other’s hands! For fuck! This was so unreal. Not something I ever thought we’d do together, but here we were. Carey wrapped one hand around my shaft, just under the head. He took his other palm, laid it flat and circled it around the tip, spreading pre-cum all around.

“Close your eyes, Bry.”

I did, and I gripped his cock more firmly, clutching it, just as he had mine. I waited for more instruction.

Carey began to pump my dick in his fist.

“Don’t even think, Bryan, use the same rhythm on me that you would for yourself.” When I hesitated, he said, “I know you know how to do that.” I sensed the grin in his voice.

I kept my eyes shut tight and began to jerk him off like I would myself, and all the while Carey kept up the perfect pace for me. My dick was burning with the need for release.

I groaned, trying to hold back—it felt so fucking good but somewhere deep in my mind it was all wrong. Carey commanded, his voice deep and raspy, “Cum for me, Bry.” At the same time he grasped my balls firmly. I couldn’t stop the hurtling juices that shot upward, squirting across my chest.

I pumped my fist harder and faster. Carey’s breathing became laboured. I pictured him in my mind’s eye, with his head thrown back, his mouth open, enjoying my jacking. His hips thrust quickly, fucking my hand.

Carey let out a deep growling sound. He palmed over the head of his cock, covering the tip right before he let loose his own jizsm.

I forced myself to open my eyes.

Carey grabbed his discarded pants and wiped his hands on them. “You can let go now,” he said, gently. I released his dwindling rod.

He took my hand and gave it a wipe before cleaning my stomach.

Embarrassed, I turned my back and slid my feet down onto the floor, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Carey got up and went into the bathroom. I heard the water running.

I felt kind of numb, except for the coldness settling into my lower back, the feeling you get when you think you’ve done something wrong. As much as I tried to tell myself that it wasn’t wrong, when we were both consenting adults and we weren’t hurting anybody but ourselves, it still didn’t help.

Carey came back into the room. I didn’t turn to face him. He came around the bed to my side.

He’d put on a fresh pair of shorts, I noticed. He stood there waiting for me to look at him. I couldn’t. When I didn’t, he crouched down.

He had a washcloth in his hand. “Let me clean you up.” He offered.

“No! I can do it,” I rushed. He handed me the warm cloth and thankfully he moved away. I wiped myself up, grabbed my sweats, then went into the bathroom myself. I tossed the cloth and pulled on my pants. I took my time and threw cold water on my face before returning.

Carey was no longer in the bedroom. I went looking for him and found him in the kitchen. I walked up behind him and placed my forehead between his shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry.”

He inhaled, then exhaled. “Why are you sorry?”

“Well, I don’t know, really.”

He turned. “You can’t even look at me.”

“But that has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me.”

Carey waited until my gaze met his, and even then, I kind of slouched, angling my head, looking up through my lashes.

“How can you say that it has nothing to do with me?”

He started to walk away. I’d hurt him and I felt like shit about many things.

“Care…don’t…” I followed him. “I’m sorry that I’m a jerk. I thought I could handle this. But it might take me some time. I’ve been under the impression, my whole life that I’m straight, so imagine my surprise that I’m having these feelings for you and that I can’t believe we did what we just did together. We weren’t just playing video games there, Care.”

“You can stop worrying. You’re not gay.”

“Then what the fuck am I? Bi?”

“No, I don’t think so. You don’t want to do other men. Just me, and we’re still not certain about that.”

“What the hell is happening then?”

“You’re just… searching. It’s what we all do. Come on, let’s go back to bed.” He grabbed my wrist and I followed him back into the bedroom.

We lay down, he patted his chest and I placed my head there, watching the TV but not really paying attention to what was on. I had so many things running through my head. Carey stroked his fingers softly up and down my arm. This was what I wanted—to be close to him. I slid my hand over his ribs, to his shoulder, then back and again, rubbing him.

“Hey, what’d you mean earlier, when you told me to use the same rhythm on you? Was that your way of saying that you know I jerk off, is that what you were getting at?” I leaned up on my elbow to look at him, trying not the laugh, not only from the humour in it, but from slight embarrassment as well.

He chuckled. “I know you jerk off, Bryan.”

“How?”

“Well, all guys do.”

“But that’s not what you meant, is it?”

He gave me that lopsided grin of his. “You’re not exactly quiet,” he said, conspiratorially.

“Oh God!” I put my head back on his chest and it rumbled under my ear.

Carey continued to razz me. “All that slapping flesh, and deep groaning.”

“I do not!”

“Ya do too.” He laughed.

“What, and you don’t jack off?”

“I just told you all guys do. But I’ve been on a streak lately, I haven’t had to do for myself. You’ve gone through a bit of a dry spell.” He was laughing loudly by now.

“You fucker, I haven’t even been here!” I pulled his arm to yank him over and we started to wrestle like we’d always done, but this time it turned sexual in an instant. One minute each of us was trying to gain the upper hand and the next I had my tongue in his mouth. This time I was on top of him. I straddled his hips, still trying to assert my dominance over him.

But he’d given up the fight and reached for my growing erection. This time when he palmed my cock, he continued further, cupping my balls. I found myself bearing down on his hand. God, he knew what he was doing. He knew exactly what to do, when to do it, how much pressure to exert, just how to manipulate the skin to produce maximum affect. He slid his other hand down there and rolled my balls between his fingers, using his thumbs to create space between them and my thighs. And when he curved his fingers and began to circle and rub my perineum, I thought I was going to die of the pleasure he was giving me.

“Oh, fuck that feels good!” I groaned, pulling my mouth from his.

“Get on your back,” he instructed.

I tensed. “Why what are you going to do?”

“More of this.” He gripped my balls securely.

I lay down on my back beside Carey. He reached over and opened the drawer on his night table and pulled out a tube of lube. He tossed it onto the bed between us.

“Don’t look so stricken,” he said, shaking his head slightly before turning onto his side next to me and sliding his hand into my pants. I lifted my hips to meet him. “Take these off. I don’t know why you put them back on. You’ve walked around me for years naked and
now
you want to cover up?”

“I wasn’t self-conscious then.”

“You should feel less so now. You know how hard it is for the gay guy to see you like that day after day?”

I looked up at him looming over me. “Really? You looked at me that way?”

“
You
are an idiot!” he answered, matter-of-factly.

I was kind of surprised. I had no idea, actually. “How hard?”

He looked down at the tent in his shorts and thrust his hips forward. “Mmm, that hard.”

I looked down at the impressive bulge. “Really?” It kind of gave me a little thrill to know that he’d felt a little of what I’d been going through over him the last few weeks. I ran my hand inside his shorts, filling it with the smooth warm flesh. I did the same as he’d done to me, went right down the length, and handled his bag.

He started to peel my sweats down, so I did the same with his boxers.

Naked again, I felt less uncomfortable than the first time.

Carey opened the lid of the lube with a flick of his thumb. He squirted some into his hand then offered me some. I turned my palm up and he did the same. It was cool. He rubbed his hands together, then slid them over my rigid cock, spreading the slippery goop from root to tip. One hand remained wrapped around it while the other handled my sac expertly.

I did the same for him. But this time, I kept my eyes open, and I experienced his reactions to my touch. I attempted to follow his actions, but he was so much better at it than I was. And the more turned on I got, the less accurate I became. I had to be jerking him mindlessly.

The slick lube made Carey’s hand slide over me effortlessly. My cock started to burn as he choked it skillfully. His fingers, masterfully playing my gooch, stimulating a place inside me that I never knew existed.

I rocked my hips as I strove for another climax.

“Care, I’m gonna cum!” I gasped, giving him some warning this time. He released my balls. Taking his index finger and thumb, he ringed the base of my cock and squeezed, almost like a cock ring, in an attempt to prolong my pleasure, but I was too far gone, he was just too good. I blew my load. He kept running his hand up and down my dick as I turned my attention to him.

I tried to remember exactly what and how he’d done me. I wanted to give him even a little of what he did.

I had the hand motion right but I wasn’t really comfortable touching him back there. But I tried anyway. I crooked my fingers up into the soft flesh and I circled, the way he had. I was just about to ask him to show me what he liked when he took my hand in his and demonstrated just where to press to get the maximum affect. When he let go of my hand and I was able to do both things at once, I was pleased when his hips started to buck. His lips parted and he moaned low and deep in his throat. He gnashed his teeth together, his jaw tight with tension, as he attempted to draw out his gratification.

“Fuck!” he gritted out just before coming, his hot seed flowing over my hand. I stroked until he lost substance.

Carey’s eyes remained closed as his breathing calmed. I released my hold on him. He murmured an appreciative sound.