Decoding Desires

***No sex yet, this one has a bit of a build up. This is gay male bdsm, just in case that's not for you. Otherwise, hope you enjoy!

Penny****

*

"What'd you think of Lee?" Carrie asks, not even bothering with a 'hi', or 'hello', or 'good morning'.

Shit. Hearing his name gives me a mini heart attack. What the hell was I thinking last night? "He's okay, I guess. You know," I say, trying not to let her know how freaked out I am about what I did.

"Mmm-hmmm," she hums in that tone that drives me crazy. "Just okay?"

"Yeah, sure," I dismiss, looking at the time. I can't focus my eyes yet, but it feels like it's way too early for me to have this conversation with her. I roll out of bed and hit the bathroom, cradling the phone between my cheek and shoulder. I sit down to pee so she doesn't hear it.

She hears it. "Are you fricking pissing while talking to me?"

"You woke me up," I complain. "And I don't care if you hear it or not."

"You're such an animal," she complains. "Whatever. Tell me about after you guys dropped me off."

"How are you not hung over?" I grumble, putting the phone on speaker on the counter so I can wash up.

"Cody, it's two pm," she states.

"Oh." I checked for no good reason. "Yeah. Shit, I got work in an hour. Shit." I can't believe how late it is, how long I slept. I close my eyes, realizing that I feel rested for the first time in a long time. I feel good, and it's a weird feeling. I'm not used to it.

"Is he still there, Coco?" I hate the tone of voice she has, like she knows my crimes.

Or maybe I'm just feeling guilty. "No, he's not here," I snap.

"But he came inside?"

I gag on the innuendo, not sure if she meant it or not. "Hold on." I mute the phone, flush the toilet and wash my hands before going back to her. I hoped the few seconds I'd carved would help me come up with something convincing. It didn't. "Yea, he came in the house," I admit, carefully avoiding repeating her phrasing. "But he didn't stay over."

"No? Why were you still asleep till now, then?" She's so damn perceptive and I hate it. Maybe I'm just that predictable.

"He... We talked. And, um..." Why couldn't I lie to her? My phone buzzed as I was thinking of what to tell her, distracting me. A text from an unknown number. I ignored it.

"Did you, you know? Hook up?" She whispers the last part.

I roll my eyes, not that she can see it. "Not exactly."

"Cody!" she squeals. "You dog!"

"We didn't," I insist. It's not a lie. We didn't touch each other like that at all. We didn't touch each other and I still was a big freaking idiot, fingering myself on the couch like a fucking pervert in front of the most beautiful man in existence. Why I'm so dumb?

"Well, he seemed to think you two hit it off last night," she complains, upset that I won't let her have the feeling of satisfaction that hooking us up would've given her.

"Does he, now?" I ask, dismissing her instantly. My brain catches up a second later. "Wait, what? You're still talking to him? When'd he tell you that?"

She laughs her 'I know something Cody doesn't know' laugh. "Of course I'm still talking to him. We're friends."

"Course you are," I say, trying to play it cool, but my heart is pounding hard. Carrie and Lee were talking about me? "Wait, what'd he say about me?" Fuck, why'd I say that out loud?

She sniffs in amusement. "He forgot to ask for your number last night, he wants to meet up with you again."

"Please tell me you didn't give it to him," I beg, terrified. I was afraid of him, of the fool I made of myself, but more than that, I'm already too smitten and it was scaring me.

Lee was asking about me. Lee wanted my phone number. Lee wanted to see me again. My fucking heart was beating like crazy and my dick was already hard just remembering the look on his face when I came. My face burns, and I'm glad Carrie isn't here.

"I did," she said. "You'll thank me for it later."

Not if I make an ass of myself again, I won't. The text message from the unknown number slaps me in the face, and I suddenly need to know if it's him. "Carrie," I stall, putting her back on speaker so I can check the message.

My hands are shaking so hard I almost drop the phone. Carrie is laughing. 'Cody, this is Lee Sullivan. I got your # from Carrie, I hope that's okay.' I saw the three dots moving, then pausing, then moving again as he wrote another message.

"He's pretty interested in you," Carrie says, startling me enough that I actually drop my phone. It falls to the carpet and I can't pick it up, I'm frozen in place.

"How do you know?" I ask, my throat tight.

"Oh, something did happen last night," she purrs. "He's got you all flustered."

I lean down and pick up the phone. It buzzes instantly in my hands and I almost drop it again. Another text from Lee. "Nothing happened," I lie. She laughs as I read his text.

'Are you free tonight? Can we meet up?'

I'm sweating, finding it hard to breath. I'm so excited that my shame and guilt can't compete and get flooded away. Lee wants to see me again tonight! I was so worried he'd think I was a freak after what I did last night. That he'd be turned off by what a freaking perv I was.

This was a chance to set the record straight, to clear up that I wasn't normally like that. How did I respond? What was normal? I suddenly couldn't think, couldn't remember words. I read his text over and over, the words losing meaning.

"Cody?" Carrie's voice cuts through my haze of joy. "Are you there?"

"Huh? Yeah," I grunt, still unable to remember most words.

"You sound distracted," she notes.

"I gotta go," I say, touching the screen to keep it on, reading his words over and over again.

"Oh. Okay," she says, sounding disappointed. "Call me later?"

"Yeah, sure," I dismiss. "Bye Carrie." She says bye and I hang up, then read Lee's texts one more time.

I struggle with what to write, then decide to keep it simple so I don't say something stupid. 'What time?' I hit send. Nice and simple.

Lee's typing back, three dots blinking then stopping, then blinking, then stopping. I wait, but there's no response, and as more seconds go by I'm getting antsy, and I write another text. 'I'm free tonight. And it's cool, Carrie told me she gave you my number.'

It's stupid so I delete it without sending. No more blinking dots, not since I started typing. I don't get a message from him and my chest is tight. Instead of trying again I save his number to my phone, and write Ashley the first time, but change it to Lee immediately. I go back to the text screen and he hasn't sent anything. I see dots blinking again and get excited, but nothing happens.

I'm pacing, so I go to my bedroom and force myself to get dressed. Even though I told Lee, or at least implied, that I was available tonight, I really did have to work today, I was supposed to be installing wiring for an underground pool heater. I pull an undershirt then my work logo-covered neon green shirt, a pair of clean jeans, a pair of black socks.

I'm brushing my hair when my phone rings. Probably Carrie again. I pick it up and answer it without looking at it. "What else do you want, Carrie? I got a job I'm gonna be late to, so I'll have to call you back later."

"Cody? It's Lee," says the sexiest voice on the planet and I'm so fucking embarrassed that I'm already inventing plans for a time machine to take me back three minutes so I can not be an idiot, at least for this one instance, but really, why stop there?

"Oh. Sorry, sorry," I say, my throat tight so it comes out more like a squeak.

"Hey, sorry, I didn't mean to bother you if you're at work," he apologizes, and why is he apologizing? He's perfect, he doesn't need to apologize.

"No, no," I rush. "I'm just getting ready. I, um, yeah. I have a few minutes."

"You sure?" he asks, sounding a little nervous, but I'm not sure why.

"Yeah, yeah," I reply, probably too eagerly. "What's up?" I roll my eyes at myself, feeling stupid. Why couldn't I be cooler around Lee?

"I thought maybe it'd be easier to just talk, I'm not really great at texting," he admits.

"Oh. Sure."

"So, um," he begins when I don't say anything else. I don't even know what to say at this point. Something like 'sorry I fingered myself like a neanderthal in front of you last night, I promise I'm actually housebroken,'? Yeah, better to just keep my mouth shut.

But I don't. "I'll be done with this job by six. Six thirty at the latest," I blurt out. "So, I can, yeah. For tonight. I mean, if you still wanted to do something. With me."

"I don't want to mess up your work," Lee says, but he sounds less nervous now. "If you're busy we can try for another day. If you wanted to meet up."

"I do," I insist. "I'm fine, it's an easy job, just some simple wiring and waterproofing. What, ah, were you thinking?" I hope I don't sound as desperate as I feel.

"Dinner? Maybe an evening walk afterwards? Ice cream?"

"I thought you were lactose intolerant," I say, the first thing that comes to my idiot brain.

"Huh?" Lee asks. "How'd you know?"

"Carrie told me," I admit, too quickly. "She was bragging about you. Before I met you, when, ah, like, she told me you two had a date." The word sours on my tongue and I'm jealous of Carrie for no good reason, other than she'd already gone on a date with Lee.

"It wasn't a date with Carrie," he clarifies, his tone stern enough that I stand up straighter. "Tonight, though, I'd like tonight to be a date."

I'm so freaking excited and happy and nervous I want to puke, but instead I put Lee on speaker phone and pull on one of my work boots. "Date?" I squeak.

"If that's okay with you," Lee clarifies. "I don't wanna-"

"Yes, date, that's good. Where? When?"

I imagine Lee in my head, hoping he's smiling that killer smile he has. "I'll pick you up?"

"You don't have to go out of your way," I insist, loving the fact that he wants to pick me up, wants to spend as much time with me as possible. At least, I hope that's what he means, though now that I'm thinking about it, it could mean a million different things, or nothing at all.

"It's no trouble," he says, his tone clearly stating he will not be taking no for an answer. My dick is so hard over his tone that it's pinched uncomfortably against my zipper. I adjust and pull on my other boot as he continues. "I'd, um... I'm gonna send you a text with directions, like, um. I wanna give you commands, for tonight, for, so, I mean, for you to do to be ready for our date. Is that, do you wanna do something like that?"

I hate how nervous he suddenly is, like it's my fault. "I'll do whatever. I mean, yeah, sure, like, yeah. I wanna do that." I'm pacing now, feeling jittery. I need coffee, I need something, I have no idea. My dick throbs and I try to ignore it.

"Good. Okay, yeah. Good," he says, sounding relieved. "I'll text you later with some directions. Same word if you don't wanna do something, 'coffee', okay?"

"Sure, sure," I say. "Sounds good." I have no idea what to say.

"I'm, um. I had a nice time last night," he says, almost a whisper.

My throat is tight. "Me too," I admit, also in a whisper. My fucking dick is twitching like a crackhead and I feel a small spot of dampness in my underwear. My balls were gonna hurt so bad later, but I didn't care. "It wasn't weird, I didn't, um, like, weird you out?"

Fuck, why'd I say that?

"You? I was worried I pushed you too far," he admits. "You're, I felt like I took advantage of you a little. It was really fucking hot. You're a natural, I mean. I hope I didn't take it too far."

"Not at all," I insist. I'm gonna cum in my pants if he doesn't stop. I'm turned on like mad, and suddenly I feel like I need to cum. "I, ah. Um, I thought it was hot, too. I mean, thinking about last night makes me, um, I'm hard. Really hard."

Lee fucking purrs, I can hear it over the phone. "You're hard thinking about last night?" he asks, his tone suddenly huskier.

"Um, yeah. Really hard," I admit, my face burning.

"Do you have time to jerk off before work?" Lee asks.

My dick is begging me, please, please, please like a kid outside a candy store. "Yeah," I say, not caring if it's true or not right now, that's how fucking turned on I am for this man.

"Brat, are you telling me the truth? If I let you jerk off will it make you late for work?"

Let me? Part of me wants to be offended that he thinks he'd be able to stop by just by saying it, but most of me... I want him to tell me if I can come or not. It makes me so hot I'm dancing from foot to foot to try to keep from jizzing in my jeans right there, I'm that close.

I'm whining a little, I didn't realize it at first. Once I do I stop, but Sir heard me. He chuckles. "If you lie to me I'll have to punish you."

"Fuck." I didn't mean to say it out loud but I did. Sir chuckles. "I mean," I continue, face red as a beet probably, "I'm so close that honestly I'm trying hard not to just nut right now." Why did I admit that? So fucking embarrassing.

He growls in the back of his throat. "You're almost coming just from thinking about last night?"

"And now," I say before I think it through. "From you."

Oh, the sound he makes is pure sex. "Take yourself out of your pants, Brat," he says.

"Yes sir," I whisper, fumbling with the phone to put it on speaker again. I take myself out and my rod almost looks purple. I stroke myself a few times before I realize he's waiting for me to tell him what I'm doing. "I'm out."

"Good boy," he says, voice thick as honey. "Are you gonna cum right away?"

"Yes Sir," I say, stroking myself to the sound of Sir's voice.

"What's got you so turned on?" he asks.

My mind is a mess, my hand a blur as I jerk myself hard and quick. "You, Sir. The thought that you wouldn't let me-"

"You like that I might have told you that you couldn't cum?" he whispers hoarsely.

"Yes, fuck yes, Sir, fuck, Sir! Coming," I pant, his words pushing me over the edge. Cum shoots from my tip all over my hand, and I just have enough mental capacity left to catch the majority of it in my other hand. It's hot and slippery, and too quickly it starts seeping through my fingers.

I don't have time to think about it as Sir starts grunting. Holy fuck, was he jerking off, too? Was he coming? I want Sir's cum. Lee's cum. I crave it, need it. "Are you coming, Sir?" I whisper.

"Yes, Brat," Sir pants. "I'm cumming so hard for you right now." He sounds strained, and it's too sexy. I'm licking my palm, cleaning my cum off my hands before I realize it, pretending it's his creamy seed.

"I want it," I growl between licks. "I want your cum, Sir."

He moans, low from his belly, then exhales long and low. "I'm making an appointment to get tested this week," Lees informs me. "Do you want me to make yours, too?"

I shake my head, then realize he can't see me. "No, I can go to the clinic. It's fast."

He grunts. "Make your appointment as soon as possible, Brat."

My hand is clean of cum, and I don't remember half of it, but my mouth is bitter. "Yes, Sir," I agree. "Thank you for letting me cum, Sir."

"You're such a good boy, using your manners," he praises. "Now go clean up your mess and get to work."

"Okay," I say, already zipping myself up. I'm heading to the bathroom to wash up before I leave now. "That was, um. Nice."

Lee chuckles. "It was. Now, get to work before you're late. Call me when you get off?"

"Yes Sir," I reply, biting my lip in excitement. "Bye, Sir."

"Bye, Brat."

We hang up and I go to work, and of course I'm late, but it was one thousand percent worth it. I'm already distracted, and I'm super thankful Sir let me come. I can't imagine doing my job with the general excitement of tonight's date combined with unsatisfied blue balls.

Still, I'm distracted and end up having to re-pull a ton of wiring because I'm not paying attention, but in my defense, it was because of the text he sent. I mean, I shouldn't have read it, but I also couldn't help myself.

It's way too late by the time I'm done, and I'm frustrated as hell, but all at myself. I text Lee from my car as I'm getting ready to leave with an ETA for when I'm getting home. It's almost impossible for me, I want to speed the entire way home, but I know it'll take even longer to get home if I get pulled over. And, Lee wouldn't be happy with me if that happened, either.

There's a car waiting for me in the driveway and I'm suddenly so nervous that my palms are sweaty on my steering wheel. It's him. I pull in and turn the car off, he gets out and greets me as I climb out.

"Hey," he says. "Sorry I got here early, I just-"

"Sorry I'm late," I apologize. "I messed up and had to rewire stuff. It's my fault. You wanna come in?"

Lee shrugs, then nods. I head to the door and he follows me in. "No worries," he dismisses. "I didn't make reservations, I know this awesome food truck in the park that makes stellar barbeque. You didn't answer my text, though, is barbecue okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," I say, pulling my boots off one by one. "Sorry, I didn't, I had to pay attention or I'd have messed up more, probably. But," I continue when I see him looking guilty, "it's fine, I just couldn't answer you then."

"Okay," Lee says after a moment. He looks me over and I turn away from him, cheeks red. I must look terrible, since a lot of the work I do is on the ground, or underneath buildings, in crawl spaces, between walls. I haven't looked in a mirror in hours, and suddenly I'm feeling so inadequate that I can't stand it.

"I need a shower," I explain as I escape down the hall. "Make yourself comfortable!"

"Cody, wait," Lee asks, and my feet obey without delay. "I can leave, if it's making you uncomfortable. I was just so excited to see you again that..."

"No, no, it's okay, it's fine. You can stay, I just need, I mean, I must look like a hobo." My feet are free from Lee's command and I'm headed to the bathroom again. I shut the door behind me before Lee can say anything else. "Make yourself comfortable!"

I hesitate to see if Lee says anything, but after a moment of silence I turn the water on and strip out of my soiled clothing. I see in the mirror that there are at least ten spider's worth of webbing in my hair, tangled between my reddish brown curls giving me a premature salt and pepper look. I rough my hands through my hair and the webbing gets caught on my fingers, but also stays in my hair. Great.

I'm ashamed that Lee saw me like this, totally unkempt. The water's too hot, but I don't care, I jump in and begin scrubbing the grime, grease, and whatever other unknown junk I crawled through today off my skin. Usually I wouldn't care what I looked like after work, but...

I take longer than normal in the shower, so long I can feel my skin pruning up and the room is filled with a cloud of steam, but I want to be so sparkling clean that it covers up my earlier cave-dweller ensemble. My face is flush when I clear the mirror with a towel. It instantly steams back up again, and I want to shave, but I also realize I've left Lee to wait on me for quite a while.

As I'm debating shaving it dawns on me that I didn't bring a change of clothing into the bathroom with me, and there was no way I was putting on my gross work clothes again. Fuck. Just, fuck. Why couldn't I be cool around Lee?

I dry off once more, scrubbing my head until my hair no longer drips water onto my shoulders or down my neck, then grab a clean towel and wrap it around my waist so tight it's almost constricting. A deep breath, then I open the door, ready to sprint to my room, but Lee must have heard the door open. I really needed to WD40 it.

"Cody?" he calls, his voice once again locking my feet in place.

"Almost done," I call back, willing myself to move, but I don't. "Sorry to take so long."