Leaving Him

I put my bags down on the front step and the screen door banged closed behind me. The noise loud, in the early morning quiet of the still dark street.

"Shit," I said under my breath, annoyed at the disturbance caused by the accidental slam

I went back inside, grabbing my jacket and checking I hadn't left anything behind. No, I had everything I decided. But I still couldn't make myself leave, I hesitated, feeling something was left undone.

"Shit," I muttered again, and walked quietly along the passage to the open door of the bedroom, and stood there looking in.

Jerry lay there on his side with just a sheet pulled partly over him, and I had no idea how I could leave him. I ached unbearably for him.

His hand rested on the pillow by his head and I was struck by its size. I could remember the first time he had touched me properly, the feel of it as it had rested in the small of my back as he leaned in closer. Telling me about the building he was helping to design. My cock had leapt at the feel of it, at the lightness and the intimacy of it sitting there on me as he talked. Looking into my eyes intently the conversation had obviously become more than the story he was telling me, becoming an exploration of each other's thoughts. We had exchanged phone numbers before we parted.

On the bed he moved in the shadows, turning his head and rolling over on to his back, his arm sliding across his body, coming to rest on his belly. His package made a mound in the sheet below his hand, his legs sprawled wide. One bent slightly. But above the sheet in the dim light were the dark smuts of his nipples and the trail of black hair that ran in a T shape, joining them together and running down his navel and under the sheet.

My cock reminded me of the first time I had seen those two hair rimmed nipples of his.

We had met at the beach and he had been wearing a t-shirt. Then we found a place to sit and he had stripped it off and I had seen his body for the first time. Then he was lying on his back again and his nipples had somehow leapt out at me, pointy and hard. I had looked at them and wondered if he felt anything for me as I stood over him looking down. He had laughed and said 'join me' and I had. We had swum and talked and the day had been over too quickly, and I had expected him to ask me back, but he didn't, and I had in the end asked him, not wanting the day to end.

But he had said, 'no, I have to go somewhere'. I had felt hurt. And wondered if he had someone else already.

He called me in the week and we arranged to meet on Saturday afternoon. He came to pick me up at my house, and I had climbed into his car nervous and uncertain. He had leant over for a kiss and I had wrapped my arms about him in a sudden mad rush to possess him. He had given way to me, and I had run a hand up under his t shirt through that silky black trail of hair on his belly. He had gasped as I palmed his belly and I had felt him surrender to my mouth. It was broad daylight on the street where we were parked but I held the kiss until I was short of breath and we finally separated.

'Come up,' I said, hungry for him.

'No,' he'd said, looking away, 'No. Come on, we were going to take a walk along the river.'

I was confused, but also now full of lust for him. I lay a hand on his thigh and felt myself painfully ready as he drove. The river was high with recent rain and the path was cool in the heat of the day. We talked of everything and nothing, though I took time to relax properly with him, having been repulsed earlier.

We stopped for coffee on the way home and he glowed, and I could not resist his need to talk. I gave up thinking of what I would rather do with him and discussed the world instead.

He drove me home, glowing still, and we kissed again, but hesitantly now, and he drove off quickly. He rang me the next day and my belly turned, and my cock jumped, at the sound of his voice. I crooned at him as he nervously talked, then when the conversation seemed to be going nowhere I asked him to dinner the following night. He jumped at my offer and in a moment it was agreed and he was gone.

On the bed before me his hand moved, and his legs, as he turned his head to the other side. The sheet was pushed down by his hand before it returned to his belly and the root of his cock showed in the bush at the end of his trail of black silky hair.

My gut twisted and my cock lurched and I wondered how I could leave him. I ached for him now as much as I had ever ached for him.

I had been in a turmoil not knowing what to cook for him, what the evening was all about, how much I wanted to share more than food with him. He had arrived and I had kissed him casually, but he had leant in and I had resumed the kiss, but deeper, pressing against him, wrapping my arms about him till he pulled away, flushed and obviously aroused. I stroked my hand down over him as he turned from me, feeling that interest of his as he moved into the dining room.

I talked more easily than him through dinner, and he ate little. I began to feel something for him that was new to me, I felt that I wanted to shelter him. But first I wanted to take him. We moved to the kitchen to wash up and I laughed at something he said and he smiled at me and I held his eyes, and then he looked down. I moved to him and gently wrapped him up in my arms and body as I possessed his mouth and entered it. He leant in against me and I ran my hands over him pulling his butt into me, pressing his hard rod against my straining one. There was no resistance from him now. He rested his head on my shoulder as I unbuttoned and unzipped him and pushed his pants down and felt the root of his trapped cock throbbing to be released.

On the bed Jerry's cock head had begun to peek up from under the sheet as it grew into some nighttime erection. His hand lay on his belly and I bit my lip and forced my breathing to slow as I watched his hand rise and fall with his breathing.

When we'd broken from that long kiss in the kitchen I'd lifted him up so he was sitting on the bench and I'd sucked him off, pumping my mouth on his cock, running my hand under his balls and my fingers back to his hole. He'd come in my mouth and I had swallowed it all. Then I lifted him and he wrapped his legs about my hips and we'd kissed each other as I walked him to the bedroom. It hadn't been far to go, he was lean but muscular and no lightweight.

I'd stopped and he had unwrapped his legs and stood and then lain back on the bed and bent and parted his legs as he looked up at me, his eyes hooded and dreamy. I had no doubt I had looked full of lust too, as I threw off my pants and went down covering his body and feeling it along mine. His thighs against mine, his belly, his chest, his mouth. We kissed again as he ran his hands up and down my back and again wrapped his legs about me. Then I had him turn over.

On the bed in the shadows Jerry's head rolled and his legs moved as he had some image in his dream. His cock now stood up, poking above the sheet, his hand grazing his cap as he made little breathy noises in his sleep.

I had lain along the bed beneath him spreading his cheeks and moving my tongue to kiss and prepare his entrance for me. He had moaned and shivered as I worked. I stroked the brown stain of skin at his entrance with my thumb, stroking and circling. Knowing this was only the first time I would do this with him and that I wanted to remember exactly what it was like. I pushed the top of my thumb in, and he resisted me, so I withdrew to circle and stroke over his entrance again before plunging my thumb in quickly, taking him by surprise and sinking the first joints inside him and leaving them sitting there as he quivered and relaxed, accepting them. He moaned and lifted his hips to me. I slipped a hand under him and palmed his belly pulling him up to me as I fingered his hole and opened him.

Then I turned him on his back and entered him from below, holding his spread thighs and watching his face as I took him for the first time.

Outside the house I heard a noise and knew my taxi had arrived. But I couldn't go.

All those months before Jerry had arched up as I entered him, rolling his head back and showing his long beautiful neck. And I had fallen on it, biting it, licking it, before I rose up and fucked him shallowly. Before I plunged into him and stiffened, my body rigid as I shot my seed deep inside him.

On the bed in the shadowy bedroom before me his cock moved against the sheet.

After I had taken him I had turned him over again, and lying behind him I wrapped myself about him, my legs about his thighs, my arms about his chest. I had held him close, the possessor - him the possessed. Me surprised it was that way, having expected him, so muscular and masculine, to be the one to possess me.

In the morning I had asked him to stay, to move in, and he had told me he was married. I had rolled away. I had just gone through that and I wanted more.

Now in the dark early morning I had no idea how I could leave him, I ached so much for him as I watched him lying there, sleeping.

"You'll miss your plane."

I was jerked out of my reverie by his voice. "You're awake," I said dumbly.

He opened his eyes and smiled. "I was dreaming about you," he said.

"I don't want to go," was all I could reply.

"Go. You will be late. It's only three days. I'll still be here when you get back Craig. It took a while I know, but I've made my decision."

I wanted to stay, to wrap him in my body and never release him, holding him close and safe forever. But I left him there, the screen door slamming behind me, me grabbing my bags from the porch and falling in to the taxi. The tired driver annoyed at waiting for me.

"The airport," I said, unnecessarily.