Ouch. Ouch! Ok. I’m done. No more.
James was my fuck buddy from a few years back. I was pretty pissed about the whole “Pablo” thing that I needed to take my mind off things. James was things, I guess.
“What’s wrong?”, he asked in a what the fuck is wrong with you kinda way. “You usually take it like a champ“, he giggled to himself and offered a grin that made me want to punch him in the nose.
“I guess I’m just preoccupied.” Tense, so to speak. The truth was I couldn’t stop thinking about that guy. Wishing it was his hands around my waist. Wishing it was him pushing up against me. Behind me. I just couldn’t get him out of my head.
“Sorry“, I said over and over as I got dressed. Leaving him lying in a pool of his own frustrations, bitter, unsatisfied.
I left James’ apartment with a sigh of releaf. To be honest James wasn’t that great, plus his placed wreaked of desperation and regret. I had to get out of there, faster than he from me.
On my way home it started to pour. Are you fucking kidding me? I thought to myself, only to realize I had said it out loud. The old dude passing by gave me a dirty look. Kids these days, eh?
By the time I had reached central station I was drenched. Soaked and probably resembling a wet rat. Looking up from my wet high tops I made eye contact with him. Now? Right now?! Are you fucking kidding me?
There he was, again. He was smart enough to have one of those big golf umbrellas. He was dry except for a little bit of water on the hem of his pants.
“Hey”, he said sympathetically. “You look wet.”
“No shit”, I said playfully.
By then the rain had stopped and we just stood in front of the station chatting. It was a warm day so being totally wet wasn’t a big deal.
“What are you up to today?”, he asked.
“I was just gonna grab something to eat, but the rain caught me so I’m clearly in need of a change of clothes.”
“You looking to catch the subway?”
“Yeah”, I responded. I lived pretty far from the downtown core. For now, at least.
“Well, the storm took out some of the electrical grids and the subway is down”. I looked behind him and noticed hoards of people emerging from the station like ants hiding from the rain.
Great. Fucking great!
“I live around the corner. You are welcome to come over to my place to dry off. We need to chat about the project anyway. If you are not busy?”
I was a bit shocked. He’s inviting me over? To his place? I guess I had spaced out, finally coming to with him repeating, “You ok?”
“Yes! I mean, yes. That would be great.”
We made our way to his place. Chatted back and forth. Didn’t mention Pablo. Thank God.
He lived in one of the more trendier places in town, on a street that had some bullshit name, a street that was not a street but a “private”.
Making our way into his apartment I noticed he had some of my paintings on his wall in the hallway. Internally flattered, I initially kept the butterflies to myself, only to blow my cover with a glossy gaze and a huge smile he caught out of the corner of his perfect eyes.
“You like them? Some local artist, can’t remember his name…” He shot me a wink, confirming his sarcasm and commencing the subtle flirtation process we always engage in when we are together. Bastard…
“Yeah, not bad. Not bad at all.”
We made our way through his place. Classy. Chic. Leather couches. I think his roommate owned the apartment. He was a doctor, or lawyer or something like that. Really not his style, but we all like to live nice.
He handed me a towel and some sweats to change into. “I’ll throw your stuff into the dryer.”
He handed me his varsity soccer sweatpants and a baggy shirt with a photo of a puppy on it. Cute, I thought.
I took off my wet shirt, pants, boxers. There I was, standing naked in his bathroom. My hair was still a bit wet and fell in my eyes a bit. He was just outside the door. I was buck naked, and so close to him. I started to get hard. Shit, I thought. All I had were his sweats that were a little small on me. If I put them on now, you could clearly see my cock bulging to the side.
“Hey, do you mind if I take a shower?”
“Yeah, no prob. I’m just gonna make us something to eat.”
The truth was I didn’t want to take a shower. I just wanted the sound of the rushing water to drown out the sound of my attempts at taking care of my problem down there. What goes up, must come down. I closed my eyes. I could smell his cologne in the bath room. I started the shower. Reached down into his sweats, that were clinging to my damp legs. Ok, go.
To be continued…
Heart Clippings Photo credit: Revend Brifkani