I'm not looking for anything except the bottom of this whiskey, but someone takes the seat next to me, and I catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye.
Oh, fuck me up and down, he's gorgeous.
I hide my swallow behind another gulp of whiskey and I try to get a better look at him when he catches my stare.
"What?" he asks.
"I'm sorry," I say, heat rising to my cheeks. "It's just... I didn't mean to stare."
He looks confused, and I take that as my cue to look casual. It's a small, rural town. There aren't exactly a lot of other gay men just lying around, waiting to be found.
Sure, I had the internet, but I wanted... more. I was tired of my own hand, and of cheap porn films that made it look so easy to be gay. Just walk up to a hot guy, say some corny line about sausage or wood or whatever was tangentially relevant, stick your tongue down his throat, and pound it out.
It was not that easy.
At least, I was pretty sure it wasn't. I'd actually never tried it. I spare a glance at the man beside me and wonder, just for a moment, what would happen if I tried.
Would he laugh? Would he yell? Would he pull a knife?
It doesn't matter. There's no way in any universe I'd muster the courage for that. The risk greatly outweighed the reward... mostly... some nights the scale felt tipped the other way, but this was not one of those nights.
I toss a few bills on the counter to pay for my drink and turn to leave, defeated and horny. I walk outside and turn towards where my truck should be.
Emphasis on should. Because it's not.
"Well, that's just perfect," I mutter to myself, clenching and unclenching my hands.
I knew exactly who was responsible: my dick cousin had spare keys, and if I didn't value the fact he was family, I'd be pretty sick of him jacking my truck for a laugh.
"God damnit. Now I have to walk home."
The sun had set some time ago, and the stars shone brightly. It would have been a lovely night if I hadn't been sporting a semi-hard erection from the thoughts of porn and tongues and the gorgeous man who'd started all the thoughts to begin with.
My hands bury deep in my pockets and I give myself a small squeeze and mutter, "Later, boy. Much later."
The cool night air feels good on my heated skin. It would only take about forty minutes to walk home. By the time I got there, I'd probably be too tired to be horny, anyway. Maybe a long walk was exactly what I needed.
Not that I'd ever thank my cousin. Dick.
I turn to start the trek home when I see the gorgeous man standing there, his eyes hard to see with the neon lights at his back.
God. The way the bright light haloed him, outlining his strong jaw and broad shoulders
"Hey," he said as if he wasn't tearing me up inside. "I'm Logan."
I rip my hands out of my pockets, hoping he hadn't noticed. "I'm Cameron." I offer a hand, desperately trying not to think about how it was the same hand that had just been in my pants.
He shook my hand, not seeming to notice the sweat or the way my grip tightened in nervousness.
"I was just on my way home." His head nods in the direction over my shoulder. "I live over there."
I glance where he gestures, then back at him. "Uh, me, too. I live... pretty far that way." I nod my own head in the opposite direction.
"Hmm." I can't see his eyes, but I feel them as they stare at me. "Do you want a ride?"
"Are you sure? I mean, do you really want to drive that far out of your way?"
He chuckles, and the sound shoots straight through me like a bolt of lightning. "Not the kind of ride I meant... Unless I'm really misreading things here."
Suddenly, I can't breathe.
Holy shit, holy fuck, holy damn. This can't be happening. Not to me.
"You... uh... I... what?"
My eyes have adjusted enough to the darkness, and I can see a smirk on his face as he leans in close.
"Get in my car."
I hear the sound of the car next to me unlocking, and watch him as he goes over to the driver's side. I find my feet moving and my hands trembling, and I reach the other side, letting myself in.
What the fuck is happening? Was I drunk? Had I passed out on the walk home and was lying in a ditch, having some kind of whiskey fever dream?
"You all right over there?" he asks, his voice low over the sound of the engine starting up.
I jump at the sound. "Yeah. I just... you know." You sighed. If he did know, that'd make one of you, 'cause I sure didn't.
"Nervous?" He laughs. "Don't be. I don't bite, unless you ask me to."
My mouth goes dry and I nod. "Yeah. I guess that makes sense."
"You guess?" He sounds amused. "Either it does or it doesn't."
"Yeah. It does." I try to swallow, but then he puts a hand on my thigh, and I can feel my entire body flushing with heat.
"Good," he says.
I have so many questions, but I don't want to ask them. I don't want this to stop. I don't want to think about this; I just want to let it happen.
I slide my hand on top of his and push it higher up my thigh.
"Mmm. I can see you're not going to be a shy one, Cam."
The heat gets worse at the sound of my own name coming from his lips. As the car came to a halt at a red light, he leans over and nibbles at my ear, murmuring, "I like that."
I let out a breathy moan and fear I might cum right then and there.
With my brain a haze of confusion and desire, I say the stupidest thing. I know it's stupid before I even start speaking, but there's a disconnect between rational thought and my mouth.
"I should have shoved my tongue down your throat."
He laughs, and the sound only stokes the fire. "Why do you say that?"
"I... Shit, sorry, I just. When I saw you at the bar, I thought, 'man, why can't this be a porno where I just stuck my tongue down his throat and we fuck'."
When he laughs again, his hand on my thigh squeezes. "Well, who says you don't still get your happy ending?"
I laugh nervously. "Right. That's... I don't even know what to say right now. I've had a bit to drink."
"Tell me about it," he says, his voice fond. "Listen. I'm not going to do anything you don't want to do. You understand? I won't even kiss you if you don't want me to. Unless you do want to, of course."
"I do," I reply quickly. "I definitely, definitely do."
He pulls the car into a driveway that I assume is his but don't really care if it's not. He turns in his seat to face me, looking for a long moment, before he leans in and kisses me.
I eagerly lean into it, though I fumble a bit with my hands. I have no idea what to do with them. They sort of flutter about before landing, awkwardly, on his sides, as if this was a middle school dance.
He pushes his tongue against my lips, and I part them to allow immediate entry. He tastes faintly of alcohol. Or maybe I do? I'm not sure. As I try to figure it out, his hand travels up from my thigh and to my groin, gently squeezing
His grip is firm and demanding, and I rock my hips against his hand. He kisses down my chin and neck, biting gently before working his way back up to my ear.
"I want to suck your delicious cock," he whispers, and I moan.
I want to say something sexy. I want to be hot and alluring and seductive. Instead, I reply, "What if it's not delicious?"
He laughs and presses his lips to my jaw. "Everybody's is different, but I bet yours is delicious."
I can hardly breathe. I must be dead in that ditch, and this is the last bit of my consciousness trying to hold on before I enter the light. And, god, if so, what a way to die.
I crash into him and my hands go roaming again, trying to figure out how to unbutton someone else's shirt.
I don't care that I'm in a car. I don't care about anything except wanting to make sure this doesn't stop.
His lips find mine again and I can taste him, that same musky flavor from before. The hand that wasn't on my leg moves up to my chest, ever so slowly unbuttoning my shirt.
I marvel at how easily he seems to do things, while I tremble and quiver and act like a damn teenager. I feel like one. I break away to gasp for air as he drags a fingernail over my right nipple. "L-Logan..."
He chuckles. It's the most wonderful thing I've ever heard. "You're so cute," he says, as he scrapes his fingernail over it again.
I make a strange high-pitched noise that I thought only girls made. "Oh, god," I whine.
"You like that?" he whispers.
I nod rapidly, and he does it again. "Let's get you out of these clothes, "he says, and starts to unbuckle my pants.
I moan in both anticipation and anxiety. "Here? Really?"
He laughs. "Yes, really. We're in a secluded spot. No one should be around." His hands move over my pants, and I arch up against him. "Someone's excited," he says. "You really want this, don't you?"
I nod rapidly. "God, yes."
He leans down to kiss me, and I can taste him. His hand reaches down to finish unzipping my pants, and he wraps his fingers around my member. His hand is large enough to envelop it, and he begins to stroke it slow and hard. "Is this okay? Tell me if I need to go faster or slower."
I just nod, unable to speak, as he strokes. He slides his lips down my neck, kissing and licking as he goes. He nibbles on my shoulder, and then, without warning, he bends down and slides his mouth over the head of my erection.
I gasp loudly as he goes down, and I can feel myself deep in his throat. I let out a moan as he slides back up to the tip, and then he does it again.
I can hardly see straight as I gasp out, "No, wait-"
He immediately pulls off, concern on his face. "Sorry. Was that too much?"
I nod, nearly in tears with shame. "I almost... Right there..." It twitches, leaking with clear intent to release.
"Yeah, that happens sometimes," he says. He wipes off his mouth with the back of his hand and smiles. "If that happens during, that's okay. If it happens before, that's okay, too. If it doesn't happen at all... Well, I guess we'll have to try again later. So, where were we?"
I bite my lip as he slides back down, taking me in his mouth again. "Ohhh..." I grunt as he begins to bob up and down. I reach down to slide my fingers through his hair, trying to not grip and pull. I can feel myself swelling in his mouth as he sucks, and-
I groan as I release into his mouth. He pulls off with a pop, a bit of spittle and semen hitting my stomach.
He laughs. "First time I've made a guy do that before. You alright?"
I groan in both disappointment and relief. "I'm sorry..."
"You're a weird one," he says, straightening up to look me in the eyes. "Most guys I've blown just beg me to keep going until they finish."
He kisses me on the mouth, my taste lingering on his tongue. "You taste good," he says. He kisses down my neck, and I shiver. "Let's get you out of these clothes."
I sit up as Logan pulls my shirt off over my head, tossing it aside. He climbs over the center console to sit awkwardly in my lap and begins to kiss down my chest as he unbuckles my belt. He unbuttons and pulls down my jeans, sliding them to halfway down my thighs. With me lying there looking and feeling like a wreck, he kisses back up my body.
He reaches down to slide his hands under the waistband of my briefs, and-
I sit up quickly. "Wait."
Logan looks at me, his hands still in my underwear. "What's wrong?"
I look away, my face heating up. "I... I don't know how to say this, so I'm just going to say it. I don't usually do this.
"Do what?" Logan asks, a hint of confusion in his voice.
"This. I don't usually have casual... relations." I laugh, a little bitterly. "I don't usually have any relations, though, so I guess that ain't sayin' very much..."
Logan grins. "I don't believe that for a moment. C'mon, we're both here, we're attracted to each other- why not?"
I marvel at how easy he makes it sound.
And I despair at how... easy, he makes it sound.
Like it's just another Friday night. Like he's flipped through the channels on a station and just happened to land on me.
Tears prick my eyes and I squirm, reaching for my shirt. "Sorry. Sorry, I should go."
Logan frowns, looking genuinely concerned. "Hey-" He starts to reach out for me, but I scramble away.
He sighs. "Fine. Go, then, if that's what you want. But just know... this doesn't have to be a one time thing. I'll be here whenever you change your mind."
I doubt that.
After all, he was the one who said 'most guys'.
He'd just go back to the bar and find someone else.
Feeling like the biggest idiot in the world, I hurry out of the car while still pulling my clothes on. I'm further from home than I was before, but I don't care. I'll walk. It'll give me time to lecture myself.
What the hell was I thinking?!
I had no idea who he was. He was a complete stranger, and I'd almost let him just have his way with me. I had dignity, didn't I?
I wasn't sure. My dignity didn't feel so great now that I was doing an almost literal walk of shame home.
Glancing over my shoulder a few times to see if Logan is coming after me, I continue walking. Of course he wouldn't.
I finally get home, cold and tired and full of regret and self-loathing. I don't bother trying to make it all the way upstairs to my bedroom. I just collapse on the couch, burying my face in the cushion and trying to will myself to just die, right then and there.
Suddenly, there's a soft tapping on the window.
I turn my head, and Logan is there, smiling and waving. I just stare and frown. Christ, had he followed me? It was dark. I would have noticed the headlights, or heard the engine or the tires or something.
He persists, rapping his knuckles on the glass and beckoning.
I get up, groaning as my muscles protest, and go to the door.
"What?" I ask, a little guarded and wary.
He just grins and pulls me into a hug, squeezing me tightly and kissing me on the cheek.
For a moment, I just stand there in shock, before hugging him back. He speaks into my ear. "You alright?"
All the negative feelings drain in the tight embrace. There doesn't seem to be any agenda or ulterior motives. He's just... hugging me, like he knew I needed it.
I nod against his shoulder. "Yeah."
He slips something into my pocket, and kisses my forehead before walking away back to where his car is idling. I stare after him, then reach into my pocket.
I discover it's my wallet.
I must've left it in his car.