Wes and Toren (38 page)

He lifted his hips, pushing himself deeper into my mouth while allowing my wet fingers to explore the pliable ring of muscle. Wesley pushed his head back into the pillow and moaned in short, quaking gasps. I swallowed him deep and rimmed the hole with one finger while I massaged his balls with my other hand. His body shook and he called my name as he erupted in my mouth. Tears collected in the corners of his eyes and he slumped heavily into the mattress. I lay atop him and gave him light kisses while he returned to his senses. Finally, Wesley opened his eyes and looked at me with a grateful smile.

“God…damn,” he panted, pulling his hands up before

remembering they were tied firmly in place.

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“Don’t think we’re done yet,” I said with a grin, lifting myself up on all fours again. “You can get it up for me again, right?” I asked, touching myself with long, slow strokes.

Wesley’s eyes glided over my frame and settled on my throbbing erection. He knew he was responsible for the state I was in and, like a good man, found himself capable of satisfying me.

I kissed him deeply and pushed my hand between my thighs, fingering the moist hole in heady preparation. I sat up on my knees and inched back until I felt him nudging against my backside. I slowly took him in until his balls met with my flesh. He watched me with glassy eyes while he pumped his hips into me and I whimpered in short, quiet gasps.

“Tor, Tor, untie me,” he said, pulling his hands forward and stretching the cotton shirts tied to the bed frame.

I nodded with a sense of relief and leaned forward, loosening the knot around his wrist. He pulled his hand free and frantically helped me liberate his other hand. He sat up quickly, rocking me against his cock, hips, and thighs and I was instantly aroused by the touch of his hard hands. He held me desperately, pumping into me feverishly with quick, strong thrusts. We climaxed in delirious unison, achieving heights of pleasure that were almost godly.

We fell to the mattress, panting and gasping in silence for a full five minutes. No words needed to be spoken and our warm, sticky bodies clung to each other as if our very molecules were making love.

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J. M. Colail

“WES! Wes, over here!” Scott shouted, waving his hand over his head.

Wesley looked up and smiled when he saw his brother. It was a heart-warming reunion and I stood at their sides with a dopey grin on my face. A young woman with dark brown hair looked at me and smiled.

Scott slapped Wesley’s back and then faced me with the same excitement.

“Toren! Wow, this is so great! I’m so glad you guys came!” Scott shouted, throwing his arms around my shoulders and patting my back. “I can’t believe it! How was your flight?” he asked, stepping back and bumping into the dark-haired girl.

“Man, you are such a spaz,” Wesley said, shaking his head. I laughed, but it was true; I would never have expected such a reaction from a big, tall, muscular man. But Wesley had a similar quality; he was always so cool and calm, but he sometimes got overly excited about certain things.

“Ahem?” the woman said, coughing into her fist melodramatically then smiling at Scott.

“Oh yeah! This is my future wife, Michele,” Scott stated beamingly, putting his arm around her shoulders. “And this is my little brother Wesley and his boyfriend Toren.”

She smiled largely, showing her perfect white teeth, and stepped forward. “It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she squealed, taking both of Wesley’s hands in hers. “I’m so glad you guys could make it! Scott’s Wes & Toren

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been so worried that you wouldn’t come,” she continued, turning to me and shaking my hands. “Plus, I’ve been dying to meet you two. Scott’s already told me so much about you.”

Wesley smiled and I blushed. I hadn’t seen Scott since the graduation and he and Wesley seemed to look more similar than before.

Scott slapped Wesley’s arm and started walking away, waving his hand for us to follow.

“C’mon, let’s go get your bags and then we’re going out for dinner,” Scott stated, glancing over his shoulder.

“Wait a sec…,” Wesley started, catching up with his brother, but Scott turned quickly and cut him off.

“I’m going to spoil you for once. So just shut up and say thank you, you little brat,” Scott said, using his big-brother trump card. Wesley rolled his eyes and Michele and I smiled in amusement.

We only had one large suitcase that I borrowed from Mom. We picked that up and then the four of us went out to Scott’s car in a distant parking lot. Wesley eyed it interestedly; it was a newer Mustang and he was happily impressed. He looked over everything as we drove to a Chinese restaurant close to the hotel where we were staying.

Scott and Michele were a perfect couple. They smiled and laughed together with their whole hearts and I wondered if Wesley and I looked like that together. Scott and Wesley caught up on the past few months and argued again about the expense of the plane tickets and hotel. I also learned that both Scott and Michele graduated from college in December and I slapped Wesley’s shoulder for not telling me.

“Well, congratulations, even if it is a little late. If I knew,” I emphasized, looking at Wesley, “we would’ve sent you a gift.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Scott said cordially. “So, how’s school going for you?”

“Really good,” I answered, nodding my head. “I’m still taking a lot of gen ed classes, but I’m taking two history classes that I really like.”

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“After next year, you’ll really be able to focus on your major. And you won’t have to bother with any more bio classes,” Scott laughed, taking a long drink of his beer.

My eyes widened, my face turned beet red, and I slapped Wesley’s arm again. “You told him?” I asked in a loud, outraged whisper.

“It was too funny not to share,” Wesley answered, patting my leg under the table.

“That’s because it didn’t happen to
you
. Sheesh, is there anyone you
didn’t
tell?” I said embarrassedly, folding my arms across my chest.

“You forgot to tell me your brother graduated from college, but you remember to tell him that?”

“C’mon, Toren. It really
is
funny, and besides, I’m sure you’re not the only one that’s happened to,” Michele said, trying to comfort me, but it only embarrassed me more that she knew too. “We’ve all had our share of embarrassing experiences,” she said, glancing at Scott. “I was still living with my parents when we got engaged and one afternoon—yes, you guessed it—my
dad
walked in on us,” she confided blushingly.

“Talk about mortifying!”

I laughed and her disclosure did make me feel a little better.

“The thing that gets me, though,” Scott added with a laugh, “is they’re still letting me marry her.”

“It’s probably only because I was on top,” Michele countered quickly.

We finished dinner and started talking about the wedding.

Tomorrow, after the rehearsal dinner, Wesley would go rent a tux. The wedding was Saturday at four o’clock with the reception immediately following. Wesley would need to leave early and Scott spoke with a friend to come pick me up before the ceremony if I didn’t want to hang out at the church.

The check came and Wesley grudgingly let Scott pay. We stopped at a convenience store and bought a case of beer, some soda, and snacks, before heading to the hotel. Scott and Michele helped us to our room and then left a little while later. I took my suit from the suitcase and hung it Wes & Toren

289

in the bathroom to pull out the wrinkles. Then I called my mom to let her know we arrived safely. Wesley filled the bathroom sink with ice and put the beer bottles in to keep them cold. We drank the rest of the evening and went to bed around midnight, tipsy and tired.

IT was a beautiful day. The sky was partly cloudy, but rays of sunshine broke through and bathed everything in golden light. Wesley got dressed and he looked incredibly handsome in his tuxedo, with his hair slicked back. One of Scott’s ushers came to pick up Wesley about three hours before the wedding for pictures, but I decided to stay at the hotel because Mr. and Mrs. Carroll were going to be there, and I didn’t know if they even knew I was here. Half an hour before the ceremony, a friend of Scott’s came to pick me up.

The church was pretty and old. Families and friends mulled around, happily chatting before the ceremony. I strolled around the church, making sure I was any place Mr. and Mrs. Carroll were not.

As four o’clock neared, the church began to fill with people. I waited until Mr. and Mrs. Carroll sat down in the first pew on the right side. I slipped into the fourth row at the end because all the aisle seats were taken.

The minister quieted the crowd and Scott stood in front of the altar with his hands folded. He looked very handsome with a graceful elegance and my heart swelled with happiness for him. The minister said a few words and then the ushers and bridesmaids came down the aisle with smiles and bouquets. Wesley and Emily, Michele’s younger sister, walked down the aisle and took their places. Wesley patted Scott’s back and smiled genuinely at him, and butterflies flitted in my stomach. Then the “Wedding March” began and Michele and her father started down the aisle. She looked beautiful, and I glanced at Scott, who was taking deep breaths with glassy eyes. At the altar, Michele’s father hugged her and placed her hand in Scott’s.

The ceremony was beautiful, touching, and even humorous at times. When Scott and Michele were exchanging their vows, Wesley found me in the audience and smiled warmly. I mouthed the words “I 290

J. M. Colail

love you” and his eyes widened, his face turned red, and he quickly looked to the front again.

At the end of the ceremony, Scott and Michele joined for a sweet, gentle kiss and faced the congregation. “I happily present Mr. and Mrs.

Carroll,” the minister said joyfully and the small church erupted with applause. Scott and Michele beamed as they walked down the aisle together as husband and wife.

I was given a ride to the reception hall by the same friend of Scott’s that picked me up and we took our seats. I was at a table with Scott and Michele’s friends, only a few years older than me, and I felt comfortable there. When I introduced myself, I was surprised that they had already heard about me. They told me how happy Scott was that Wesley and I came and about how he was so worried. I felt happy and confident; I knew just how much Scott wanted Wesley, both of us, to share in the celebration.

The wedding party arrived a little before six o’clock and everyone in the reception hall clapped and whistled at the newlyweds’ arrival.

Wesley sat at the head table for dinner and gave me reassuring smiles all the way through. The meal was often interrupted with the clinking glasses of toasts, usually initiated by the guests at my table.

After dinner, the DJ began spinning in earnest and the open bar was constantly busy. Wesley met up with me and we watched from the side for the first dance and the father-daughter dance. Then the dance floor was overrun with Michele and Scott’s friends and family. Wesley went to get us some drinks from the bar and I sat down, watching the excitement from the sidelines.

“You got a hell of a lot of nerve showing up here,” Mr. Carroll’s voice thundered above me. I looked up and saw Wesley’s father standing in front of me with his arms crossed. “Just what the hell are you trying to do?”

I swallowed hard and stared at the tall man towering over me.

Everything had gone so well today that I nearly forgot the threat the man imposed. My eyes teared up and I wished with all my heart that Wesley would come back.

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“I asked you a question. What are you doing here? Why the hell are you doing this?” Mr. Carroll demanded, his voice even more severe. At last, Wesley came back and I breathed a sigh of relief, but Mr. Carroll redirected his anger at Wesley. “Just what the hell are you trying to prove? What is wrong with you? I told you not to bring him,” he said, sneering at me. “Just the sight of him is disgusting! You had no right….”

“Shut up,” Wesley said, his voice edged with anger. “What the hell is wrong with you? If you don’t like it, just ignore us. Better yet, don’t even talk to us. Go to hell,” Wesley growled, taking my hand and turning his back to his father.

Mr. Carroll slapped our hands apart and stepped into Wesley’s face. He was at least six inches taller, but Wesley stared up at him defiantly.

“You think this is funny? I
told
you not to bring that little faggot here,” Mr. Carroll snapped.

Wesley’s eyes sparked and he pushed his dad back. “Don’t you fucking say that! Don’t you ever say that!” Wesley shouted.

Mrs. Carroll and Scott stepped in at the same time, restraining Mr.

Carroll and Wesley, respectively.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Scott shouted, staring at his father. “I wanted them here, so if you’ve got a problem with it, come to me!”

“Scott!” Mrs. Carroll interrupted, surprised by her elder son’s outburst. Perhaps she was expecting this confrontation with Wesley, but not with Scott. She looked around embarrassedly; the argument between Mr. Carroll and me had turned into a spectacle. Michele was standing by Scott and even her parents were in the near background.