Authors: Sean Wolfe

Aroused (15 page)

BOOK: Aroused

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“You were at a party in Karen Thomas's room last night and had a little too much to drink.”

A foggy look of confusion crossed his face. “Yeah?”

“I was asleep when you got back here. You were really shit-faced and crawled into bed with me.”

Tony pulled the blankets up to cover his nakedness, and looked at me with those puppy dog eyes that were about to cry. I might not be the brightest crayon in the box, but I could tell that his biggest fear at that moment was he was a fag.

“You kept calling me Karen and rubbing me up. You told me that I had great tits and that you wanted to fuck me.”

“I did?”

“Yeah.”

“But ...”

“You were drunk as shit, hard as a rock, and much stronger than me. So I just thought it'd be easier to let you fuck me and get it over with. I didn't want to fight with you.”

“I fucked you?” He looked like he was gonna be sick.

“Yeah. But you thought I was Karen Thomas.”

“So I'm not ...”

“No, Tony,” I said, and held his chin in one of hands. “You're not gay.”

He just stared at me.

“Yes, Tony. I
am
gay. You fucked me thinking I was a girl. So you're not a fag. I liked it a lot. It felt great, so I let you do it. So I am a fag. But you must not have liked it very much, because you didn't even finish. You fell asleep pretty quickly after starting, and then I must've fallen asleep right after that.”

“So that's why my dick was inside you just now? We fell asleep with my cock inside your ass?”

“Yes.”

“And you're okay with that?”

“Yes. It's a very nice cock.”

“Thanks. So I'm not ...”

“No, Tony, you're not. But I am. You cool with that?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, but got out of the bed with the sheets still wrapped around him and walked into the bathroom to shower.

There were three weeks of school left, and Tony and I barely spoke to one another after that. I could tell he was nervous around me. He came to the room very late at night, long after I'd gone to bed, and slipped into bed fully clothed. When we did have occasion to speak, it was as brief as possible and mostly superficial.

To his credit, Tony never said a word about me to anyone at school. It might have been because he couldn't out me without divulging his part in my first experience. But it was more likely because he was a really good guy at heart and didn't want to hurt me.

That night ... that experience ... changed my life. I became a man that night. I became my
own
man that night. I no longer felt the need to hide who I was or make excuses or lie. I came out to my friends and my family. Some of them were cool with my newfound confidence and pride, and others were not. That was, and still is, okay. I became me that night, and knew I'd never turn back.

When school started again in the Fall, I joined the Gay/Straight Alliance and became active in their political and social activities. I learned Tony had joined a fraternity and was no longer living in the dorms. It was a good thing, really. We'd never have been able to be buddies again. It would always be awkward between us. And I wanted him to be happy and secure in himself. The fraternity would provide him with that. And if by chance he got a little too shit-faced again, I was sure the fraternity would be able to provide him with more of what he needed as well. And that, conveniently, no one would remember it the next morning.

As for me, I was stuck with a pimply-faced computer nerd from Mississippi. His name was Robert, and he was totally obsessed with me from day one. He followed me around like a lost puppy. Even offered to carry my books to class, if you can believe it. I caught him beating off under the covers several times at night when he thought I was asleep. Sometimes I'd sleep naked and on top of the blankets, stretching and flexing my musclesâa couple of times even fully hardâand watch him with one eye as he looked at me and sprayed his load all over himself.

Then I'd grin and fall asleep.

PART II

Through the Eyes of Geminis

Kyle

I
walked into the living room and threw my bag onto the floor. I closed my eyes for a second, and took a deep breath. It worked in the movies sometimes, so what the hell, it couldn't hurt right? I clicked on the light and opened my eyes. No movie magic here. Dirty clothes were strewn around the living room and the pizza box with one lingering two-day old slice of pepperoni and sausage still sat perched atop the kitchen counter. The sink was full of dirty dishes. So much for movie magic.

I sighed and waded my way through the clothes on the floor to my bedroom. It was just as bad there, but at least I could tell the pile of clean clothes on the floor from the pile of dirty clothes on the floor, and I discarded my work clothes into the dirty pile and plucked up a pair of wrinkled jeans and a T-shirt from the clean pile and put them on.

My roommate of the past six months went and got himself a boyfriend, and moved out a couple of months earlier. There was no way I could make the rent on a two-bedroom apartment in Denver's gay ghetto and ridiculously overpriced Capitol Hill area all by myself. Shit, I was only doing temp work. I was lucky to afford my staple of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese (the powder cheese variety, not the fancy squeeze cheese kind), Ramen Noodles and the occasional luxury of Domino's Pizza.

And so, since Markus moved out, I'd let myself and my place go a bit. Okay, more than just a bit. But hey, I was twenty-three years old and on my own for the first time in my life. I had a right to stress over my current situation. Both of the months I'd lived alone I received a three-day notice to “pay or quit the premises.” Trust me, there was nothing I would have liked more than to “quit the premises,” but I couldn't. There was no way I was moving back in with my parents. And even one-bedroom apartments in this area were outrageously overpriced. It was cheaper to stick it out and try to find a roommate to take the second bedroom than to find a place of my own.

But I hadn't had much luck in that search. And one simply cannot function normally under such duress. Certainly a clean apartment and washed and folded clothes was out of the question.

I boiled a couple of cups of water and dropped the beef Ramen noodles into it, and sat down at the computer. There was no doubt where I'd be going. There never was when I was feeling like this. I needed to get laid, and there was really only one place for that.

Manhunt.net
.

I logged on and scrolled through the profiles of the guys in the Denver room as I slurped the noodles into my mouth. There were three or four friends that I'd chatted with before, and I said hi to them. But chat was not what I was looking for, so I continued searching the profiles.

One in particular caught my eye because of his screen name.
Gemini_Angel
. I am a Gemini myself, and my screen name was
Dark_Lil_Angel
. I couldn't ignore the similarities, so I pulled up his pics and profile.

Angel or Devil ... You Decide!

Me:
35 y/o, 5' 7”, 140 lbs, slim athletic body, br/br.

I'm a typical Gemini, and can be either an angel or a devil ... it's all up to you. Mostly bottom, but will top for the right young, smooth hottie.

You
:
20 â 35, in shape, HOT, energetic and TOP.
Your eyes and lips will catch my attention first.
Dimples will get you anything U want.
Latinos and Blacks move to the front of the line!”

The profile sounded pretty hot, so I opened up his pictures. There were five posted. Two of them were really cute pics of his face, and the other three were downright HOT. One was a facial shot with his face covered in cum that got my dick rock hard as soon as I looked at it. His tongue was sticking out and licking some of the cum from his lips, and I almost shot a load looking at it. The other two photos were of his cock and ass, and they were so hot I thought they had to have been doctored. But I didn't care. I had to chat with Gemini_Angel.

<< Hey, wassup? I love your screen name >> I tried to play it cool and coy.

I stroked my cock and looked closer at his pics while I waited for his reply. It came about a minute later.

<< Not too much. Goofin off a lil. You are HOT! >>

I smiled and felt myself blush.

<< Thanx. So are you. I love your pics >>

<< Ditto here. I wouldn't think you'd need to be on this site to find sex. From the looks of your pics you could have anyone you want >>

My smile grew bigger, as did my cock, and I couldn't suppress a little giggle.
Damn it
, I thought,
butch it up. This guy's hot and sounds interested. He wants a butch top, not a giggling little schoolgirl. You can do this
.

I took a deep breath, then typed out quickly, << thanzz. I can. I wsny u >> and hit “Send” before I could correct my spelling mistakes. “Shit!” I yelped, and slapped myself lightly across the face.

<< LOL. That's cute. I wsny u 2 >>

I giggled again, then butched up my laugh, even though I was alone. This guy was cute
and
funny. I had to continue chatting with him. So I did, but before I knew it I was pulled from my trance when the phone rang.

“Hey, hag.” It was Josh, one of my best friends. “Listen, whatever you had planned for tonight, forget it. I need you.”

“Why? What is it this time? Do you need your nails painted again? Or does your dress need hemming?”

“Well, you're on the right track. I just got a call. One of the girls canceled for the show at Charlies tonight, and they asked me to sub for her. I need your help getting ready. And I really need your support during the show. You know how nervous I get when I perform.”

I glanced back at the screen and the chat window with Gemini_Angel. I couldn't believe we'd been chatting for over two hours. And I really wanted to hookup with him. But Josh was my friend, and I couldn't say no to him.

<< Can u meet me at Charlies tonite at 8?? >> I typed awkwardly as I balanced my cell phone to my ear with my shoulder.

“I'm not hearing an answer,” Josh said.

“Just a minute,” I said. Why was it taking Gemini so long to respond?

“What do you mean, âjust a minute'? Are you really thinking of not coming?”

“No, of course I'm not thinking of not coming,” I said as I breathed a sigh of relief. What time do you want me at your place to help tuck and tape?”

<< Good! I'll see you there >>

“NOW! The show is in two hours. I'll never have enough ...”

“Calm down. I'm on my way,” I said as I hung up.

<< OK. I'll be wearing a red sweater and black jeans >>

<< Can't wait to see you. I'll be wearing a blush on my face and a hardon >> I typed quickly and then logged off before I started giggling some more.

Charlies was ... well, it was Charlies. I love the bar, don't get me wrong. It's my hangout, and I'm there at least a couple of times a week. But if it's not the way-too-busy half-priced drinks Thursday, or the slightly less crowded Saturday night, it can be a little depressing. Like Denver itself, the bar is very eclectic. It is first and foremost a cowboy bar, and has been for the past twenty years. But a couple of years ago they converted a struggling attached restaurant into the “Party Bar,” which played contemporary high-energy dance music, and drew a much younger and diverse crowd. It's a lot of fun on Thursdays and Saturdays to watch the middle aged cowboys mingle with the spiked and painted twink goth punks.

But anytime other than those two busy nights the place can be a little dreary. And this was a Tuesday night. The Party Bar was hosting the fundraising drag show that Josh ... excuse me ... Sookie ... was performing in. At 8:00 there were maybe a dozen people scattered to watch the show. I already was bored and didn't want to be there, and I started fidgeting. Where was Gemini_Angel?

“Go on, girl, just go ahead and call him,” my other best friend John said as he made a production of turning around and passing out Tuaca shots to me and a group of three other friends. “You know you're dying to.” He raised his glass and we all clinked ours to his. “Here's to going down ...” he batted his eyes and smiled that Julia Roberts smile of his. “... smoothly and gently. Cheers.”

We all tossed back our shots, and then I pulled out my phone. Even though it was only ten after eight, I was afraid I was being stood up and I was beginning to panic. This would not do, so I was gonna call and give this guy a piece of my mind. I'd been hurt more than I'd wanted in the past six months, and I wasn't about to let this stranger be the next in line. I listened to the voicemail message on the other end, and my heart melted. He had a very sexy voice and sounded so sweet.

“Hey, you hot little angel, you. This is Kyle,” I said, and then remembered we'd exchanged phone numbers but never got around to giving our real names. “Ummm ... I mean, the guy you chatted with online earlier. It's a little past eight, and I'm just calling to see if you're still planning on meeting me at Charlies. Gimme a call. You have my number.”

I hung up and looked over at John.

“Aww, sweetie, don't look so sour,” John said as he turned around to order another round of Tuaca shots. “Those puppy dog eyes look much better when they're sparkling and not crying.”

“Oh, please! I'm not crying. Especially not over someone I just chatted with online,” I said, hoping it sounded convincing.

Even though I hadn't even spoken with this guy, I felt there was something different about him. Our conversation wasn't the usual online bullshit. We didn't even talk about sex at all. Instead we talked about our work and Latino culture and our favorite movies. He made fun of the fact that I'm Mexican and don't even speak Spanish and rubbed it in that he was a gringo and spoke Spanish fluently. I teased him about his age and called him a cradle robber for flirting with a boy twelve years younger than him. There was nothing sexual about our chat; it was fun and innocent. And yet my heart fluttered and my cock hardened as we interacted.

“Fuck him, anyway,” I said bravely, trying very hard not to slip into my patented pouting voice. “He's the one who's missing ...”

Standing just outside the door, next to the ATM was a guy dressed in jeans and a red zip-down sweater. I was sure it was him. He had his phone to his ear, but didn't seem to be talking. Was he checking a message?

I grabbed John's arm just as he was going to toss back his shot. Instead it splashed all across his shirt.

“Hey!” he screeched. “Those aren't cheap, you know.”

“I think that might be him.” I gripped his arm tighter.

“Where?” John asked, forgetting about the shot.

I nodded toward the door.

“Oh,” he said as he cupped one elbow in his other hand and rubbed his chin. “He's kinda cute. A little old ...”

“I like a little old. I'm tired of all these twinks who don't know what they want out of life and don't know the difference between their ass and a hole in the ground.”

“... a little short ...”

“I like a little short. Makes it easier for me to ...”

“Well, don't justify it to me, girl,” John said as he pushed me forward. “Go meet your man.”

Preston

What the fuck was I thinking
? I thought to myself. I looked at the picture of the guy on the screen. He really was beautiful, and exactly my type. Young, Latino, and with a cocky expression on his face. I'd never been able to resist guys like him. Not that I was complaining, mind you. Though falling for his kind had brought me more than my share of pain and anguish, it had also brought me some of the hottest and most precious moments of my life.

We'd chatted for a couple of hours and really clicked. I'd gotten so used to all the Internet bullshit that I'd almost forgotten what it was like to actually meet and chat with someone who knew how to be real. I popped a boner just from chatting with him ... and we weren't even talking about sex.

But who was I kidding? He was just a kid, twenty years younger than me. My profile stated I was thirty-five years old, because most people guessed me to be between thirty and thirty-five ... and more truthfully, because in the gay community anyone whose real age begins with anything higher than a three might as well have their age begin with a nine or even a ten. Even with my false age of thirty-five, I was twelve years this kid's senior. When I mentioned it to him, he said he liked older guys (which caused my heart to tighten painfully), and that thirty-five was the perfect age for him. That made me smile and feel really good ... until I remembered that I was actually the non-perfect age of forty-three.

And now I'd gone and agreed to meet him. Had I gone mad, I wondered as I ransacked my closet for something to wear. I dug to the back of the closet, where I kept my
“happenin' clothes.”
The jeans were all strategically ripped and faded, and the shirts were all clingy and made of material undoubtedly manufactured on another galaxy and accentuated my hours-at-the-gym sculpted body. My happenin' clothes had always been good to me and had gotten me more action than anyone my age had a right to get. And usually with guys whose age really did still begin with a two.

But in my epiphany stage, which had begun a couple months earlier, I'd come to an understanding of who I really was, and that I needed to stop behaving likeâand dressing likeâand pretending to beâa twenty-something. I needed to be comfortable with my real self. And not only did I need to stop trying to be a twink, but I also needed to stop being attracted to them. It was time I found someone my own age and settle down and grow old with him. But that had proven much, much more difficult than it sounded.

I began to hyperventilate and panic deep inside the closet, among the hanged shirts and folded pants and jeans. I dug myself out quickly, and crawled over to the bedroom door, then looked out into the living room and at the computer screen. His picture was still there, looking at me seductively and winking. Just as I was about to blow a kiss at it, the picture disappeared, and my animated fish screensaver popped up. Nemo looked directly into my eyes and then blew out a big bubble.

“Fuck you,” I said out loud to the defenseless fish on my computer screen.

As much as I wanted to bring out my happenin' clothes and slip back into a pattern that was very comfortable, I knew I couldn't. I couldn't turn my back on all I'd learned about myself the past few months. I couldn't pretend I was half my age. And so, the hot twenty-three year-old Latin boy-god would just have to meet the real me and determine whether I was something he wanted or not. I felt fairly comfortable, after our two-hour chat session, that he would. But I was still hesitant and afraid as I pushed my happenin' clothes back to the rear of the closet and worked my way to the front of the row of hanged clothes.

I settled on what I'd told the guy I would be wearing anyway, even if it meant he'd be able to spot me immediately and run the other way if I wasn't what he'd imagined. Maybe that was better. It'd save me the embarrassment of having him look me directly in the eyes and tell me I was an old fart and uglier than Mother Teresa.

So, I pulled the red and black zip-down pullover sweater from the hanger and laid it on the bed next to my favorite pair of black jeans. This particular outfit made me look younger than I actually was, but still older than a college jock. It'd been lucky for me in the past, and I was counting on it again.

I undressed and walked to the shower. Was that Linkin Park I was whistling, I wondered, or MacArthur Park?

I was running a little late anyway, and had to stop at the store to buy a pack of breath strips. So by the time I got to Charlies it was already 8:15. Only a handful of people were milling about in both areas of the bar, and the show was running late, as usual. I took a quick peek around, but didn't see the hottie I'd been chatting with earlier, so I went to the bar to order a drink.

Just as I paid for my cocktail, my phone rang. It wasn't the regular ring of an incoming call, but the steady tone that let me know I had a voicemail message. I cursed for the millionth time that my phone didn't ring loud enough nor vibrate quite vigorously enough to be heard or felt over the drone of loud music and shouted conversations of the bar.

I pulled out my phone and listened to the message as I walked away from the bar and over to the more quiet ATM machine. So, his name was Kyle, and he was here. His voice sounded a little sad or disappointed, yet it also had an undertone of anger. I recognized that tone immediately. I'd used it often myself. We Geminis are not known for our mild manner or patience, and I smiled as I took note that this kid really was a true Gemini.

I saved the message because I loved the sound of his voice, and returned the phone to my pocket, then turned around to walk into the Party Bar, where the show was about to begin. It was then that I saw him walking toward me, and thought my heart would explode.

It was HIM. Not just him, but HIM. The kid I'd been noticing ... on the verge of stalking, practically ... for the past year. Why hadn't I noticed that
he
was HIM? His hair was a little different than in the picture online, and he was a little heavier. But still! As he walked toward me and smiled, I knew at once it was HIM. Why the hell hadn't I noticed it while I was chatting with him online? For the past year I'd noticed him almost every time I went out. His piercing eyes and full, pink lips drew me to him like some magical potion. I'd made a point of standing right next to him on the dance floor, or behind him in line for a drink every single time I'd seen him. I'd leaned in to get a whiff of his cologne. And I'd gone home alone and beat off to his face in my mind more times than I cared to count.

And now he was walking right toward me with the most seductive smile I'd ever seen, and I panicked at the thought that our first date would begin and end with him watching me being rolled out on a paramedic's gurney.

“Hi,” he said, and thrust his hand toward me. “I'm Kyle. Please tell me you're Gemini_Angel.”

I tried to smile and prayed my eyes were nowhere near as bugged or cross-eyed as they felt. “Hi, yes, I'm Gemini_Angel,” I said as I stuck out my hand for him to shake. “But you can call me Preston.”

His lips were moving, but I couldn't hear a word above the loud ringing that resonated through my head. When he motioned me toward the bar, I noticed the group of four or five guys watching us intently. I assumed they were his friends, and walked with him over to the bar.

Thankfully, the show started right away. About ten minutes later I felt myself relax a little, and my heart slowed to a normal pace. It might have been the show, but it was more likely the Malibu Rum with Red Bull that I'd milked less than delicately. Whatever the reason, I found myself emboldened and allowed my arm to slide behind Kyle and rest lightly on his shoulder. I reminded myself to breath, unsure how he would react to my sudden move. When he leaned back against me, and rested his hand on my knee, I relaxed and fell into a normal breathing pattern.

Normally I'm a little shy around cute guys, so I really have no explanation as to the events that came next. Okay, so I had another couple of drinks, and maybe that could be the answer. But I prefer to believe I'd found that renewed sense of self and confidence I'd been striving to achieve for the past couple of months. Whatever the reason, I found myself tickling the back of Kyle's neck, and when he moaned lightly and leaned against me a little harder, I kissed his neck softly.

He gripped my knee tighter. “You really should stop that,” he whispered.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ...”

“Because I won't be able to stand up if you keep this up,” he said, and smiled as he leaned back to kiss me on the mouth.

His kiss was soft and sweet, and instantly hardened my cock. Some guysâand especially those in their early twentiesâare afraid of kissing. They go into it tentatively and cautiously, as if there might be something frightening inside the kiss. But not Kyle. His tongue licked my lips tenderly, then slipped inside. I sucked on it eagerly as he slid it in and out of my mouth.

I cheated, and peeked to see if his eyes were open or shut. Call it a quirk or a pet peeve, but I've never been able to tolerate guys who kiss with their eyes open. It always seemed like they were looking around for someone hotter while they were kissing me. Kyle's eyes were closed and when he gently pulled me closer to him, I knew he was into it one hundred percent.

That's all I needed, and when I relaxed and let my body rest against his, I felt I was in heaven. I reached down and let my hand rest at the front of his jeans. I immediately found out he wasn't kidding at all about not being able to stand up in public. We kissed for a few moments then sat back down and behaved ourselves. We were in public, after all, and I didn't feel we needed to make a spectacle of ourselves.

But that didn't stop us from being noticed.

“Wow,” a shaved-headed twenty-something kid with multiple piercings said as he walked up to us and kissed Kyle's friend John on the cheek. “You guys are hot. I'd do you both. At the same time.”

Kyle smiled and squeezed my hand, and I blushed.

“Well, I would,” the guy repeated. “You make a very hot couple.”

Kyle and I looked at one another and grinned. “We only just met about twenty minutes ago,” Kyle said.

“Really?” the punk kid said. “Well, you should be a couple.”

“Oh, please!” John said loudly, and turned to wave his hand at the bartender. “Don't encourage them. They're already out of control. We don't have time for any more. It's shot o'clock, for chrissake!”

Kyle and I laughed, and John passed out a round of Tuaca shots.

With the sexual tension broken, I relaxed and enjoyed the rest of the evening. But when the show ended, I felt sad. It was a Tuesday evening, and both Kyle and I had to work the next day, so I knew it was getting close to time to go. I didn't want the evening to end, and I didn't feel Kyle did either.

Sookie came over and excused herself as she grabbed Kyle and pulled him away from me and with her. Kyle laughed and shrugged as he was dragged away. “I'll be back in a few ...” he whispered as he disappeared around the corner and out onto the patio.

I took the opportunity to get us another drink, wanting to postpone the inevitable as long as possible. When he returned, I handed Kyle another beer and kissed him softly on the lips.

“Okay, so I have a choice to make,” he said as he broke the kiss and took a big swallow of beer.

“What's that?” I asked.

“Sookie wants to crash at my place tonight because his mom and dad are in town for a couple of days and staying at his apartment.”

I raised my eyebrow and tried to smile.

“And he wants to leave now. So ... I can leave now and go to my place with Sookie ...”

“Or?”

“Or I can give her the keys to my place and go home with you.”

My heart skipped a beat and I took a deep breath. “Well, I'm not one to pressure anyone,” I said, “but you're more than welcome to spend the night with me.”

Kyle looked at me and smiled, and my heart melted. “I'll be right back,” he said, and he darted out the door. A few minutes later he returned, and grabbed my hand as he pulled me toward the door.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“To your place.”

BOOK: Aroused

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