I Know What I am Doing-Part 1

I Know What I am Doing-Part 1


“Stop thinking about him.”

“Huh?” My agitated shift in the car seat had guilt written all over it as I turned to my friend behind the wheel of the SUV.

Sam squinted disparagingly at me then refocused on the road.

“Nice try. Don’t make me make you confront demons again, sugar. Mark is your past, thank goodness. Don’t you think it’s time you left him there?”

“It’s kind of difficult, you know, with him popping up out of nowhere, and the phone calls and stuff.”

“I know; and I hate that he’s started all this rubbish again after a year’s peace. And why, I ask. You were just starting to do so well, too. After all the pining and waiting for him.”

“Oh, I wasn’t pi-”

“Don’t lie. You’re awful at it.”

So I clamped my lips shut and watched through my black hair as trees whizzed by. We were on the Garden Route, heading east out of Cape Town at the best time of year for a road trip. It was a beautiful sunny December morning. Sam was right, of course: I had been thinking about my ex. The man who’d started hounding me a month ago was a frightening head case compared to the man I’d dated for two years towards the end of varsity. Suddenly seeing him again, agitated and unkempt, had at first stirred pity in me.

This story is a work of fiction. All characters are older than 18. They have fun having gay sex. If gay sex is not allowed in your country, you should consider moving to another one. The characters are not having safe sex, please use condoms while exploring your sexuality. As always, I look forward to your comments and suggestions. Thank you for choosing to read my story and I hope you enjoy! You may contact me at gaynerdy2014@gmail.com , also if you have your own story. Please send to this email gaynerdy2014@gmail.com , or click SUBMIT YOUR OWN STORIES! at the top right corner of HOME SCREEN. Also, If you include your name. I will give credit as due, otherwise, it will read as – Read By: Bobby Newberry. THANK YOU for helping to build Gay and Nerdy Archives Library of Erotic Stories and more. Note: We do not own these stories, only share. If you believe this story should not be here. Email gaynerdy2014@gmail.com and explain. If so, we will fix this mistake. Don’t forget to check out our New Adult Toy Store. Store link: Gay Nerdy Toys.

It made me realize I’d thought about him in our time apart; wondered what he was doing; tortured myself with images of him with someone new. Probably a few someone’s. He’d always been a bit too much of a… free spirit when it came to love and relationships; and I’d always been the insecure clanger.

Until now. For some unknown reason the roles switched recently and Mark has proven himself a little psychotic in his pursuit of me. I did my best to laugh it off in the beginning, shrugging noncommittal whenever my friends checked up on me. Mark was leaving me countless messages – and I was considering taking him back. Then he started unnerving me by rocking up uninvited at places I frequented. However, it was… that night that finally drew the line for me. Now I’m totally clear on my feelings for Mark Reynolds. I fear him.

“Earth to Dreamer. No wonder you’ve been single for a year now. There’s a hunk at nine o’clock and he’s been checking you out since we stopped.” Sam was poking me in the ribs with a rolled-up magazine. Not subtly.

I hadn’t noticed that we were parked at a fuel station. One more poke from Sam had me nervously flicking my eyes to my left. The man was built like that stocky guy made of rock from The Fantastic Four, not good. And he was blatantly leering at me with the cockiness of one used to getting their way, definitely not good. He wore camouflage pants and a vest that was desperately toiling to contain his massive chest. I nervously pushed the button that smoothly rolled up my window.

I hissed at Sam, “How, in the name of good taste and sanity, do you classify that as a hunk?” I turned to see Sam getting out of the car, so I quickly clambered out and scurried after him towards the snack shop, making sure not to make any more eye-contact with the Incredible Hulk.

“I can’t believe you were just going to leave me hanging like that!”

I got another squint, an amused one, “Sugar, that’s not leaving you hanging, that is called hooking you up. How could you not go for such a hottie?”

“Sam, the man’s muscles had muscles and they were all challenging each other to all-out war! And he was doing that testosterone overloaded swagger-thing that means I’d probably end up as his pet, not his boyfriend. Hardly my type; hasn’t a ten-year friendship taught you anything?” I was still jumpy twisting the magazine Sam had been poking at me.

Sam was ignoring me. He grabbed two waters, two juices, an energy bar and a packet of strawberry chews and headed for the clerk. When we got back in the car (fortunately Atlas had taken the hint and left by then), he tossed the strawberry sweets at me, handed me the grape juice and a water and started the car.

After a few minutes, he finally spoke, “I just don’t get you, Ethan. OK, fine, that guy was a bit of a monolith, but some really delis guys have been after you for ages now, but you always have some sort of excuse for not trying another relationship. At the same time you also don’t seem happy with your solitude, so I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do now. You’re going to have to clue me in: what do you want?”

I flipped through the magazine pages, feeling bad – and torn. “Just some peace and quiet… and a personal masseuse named Antonio.”

Sam actually cracked a faint smile. “Seriously, man. We both know that you’re hiding behind that laptop and all the work that you do. Other people ease up when the obscenely huge cheques start tumbling in, yet you continue to push yourself on a ridiculous schedule. Why?”

“To be able to afford Antonio’s tanning salon bills?”

“You deserve more, you know. And you have a lot more to give, that’s why I fuss. The whole trip with Mark was painful, I know, but you need to understand that they’re not all like that.”

“I do know that, Sam.”

“He was bonkers on a whole nother level. But that shouldn’t stop you from opening up to someone else, someone who appreciates you. I just wish you’d take the time to figure out what you need, so you know what to go for. Life’s too short for-”

“This place. I need this place.”


GoodHead – Deep Throat Spray – Sexy Cinnamon

I held up the now mangled magazine. It was opened to an article on holiday destinations. I was showing him the page about a gorgeous guesthouse in Plettenberg Bay. Sam scowled at the pictures in disbelief, then at the road. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Why would I kid about ‘nature trails through the hills down to the beach’ and ‘weekday surfing lessons’?”

“Listen, sugar-”

“Quit calling me that already!”

“-I’m only cornering you like this because I love you. Now put down the article about hippie hotspots; you’re already on your way to a holiday.”

“Yeah, but your place has shows and rides and overpriced food.”

“Problem being?”

“I want to be ‘lulled to sleep each night by the only sound for miles: waves breaking on boulders’. Doesn’t that sound great? And imagine waking to ‘ unobstructed views of the mountains and ocean’. This is what I want, Sam.”

Sam eyed me uncertainly, “Quit fooling, sugar. I’ve known you since high school and I haven’t seen you even look at a surfboard once in all 10 years.”

“I do all the time… when gorgeous surfers are on them.”


In all honesty, it had started out as a joke, a distraction tactic to get Sam off the topic of my pitiful love life. But the more I read about The Montgomery, the more I liked it. Peace, nature. And the perfect hiding place.

“Plett, it’s in Plett. Look, that sign says there’s an off-ramp in 50km. The article mentioned that we’d need to go through the town to get to The Montgomery. It’s a little way up the hill, overlooking the western stretch of the beach.”


“It won’t add much to your travelling time. I’m sorry to drop you like this after you were so generous about sharing your holiday with me, but I need to go to this place.”

“What could you possibly-”

“Please, Samuel. For the first time in a long while I’ve made a choice that I’m pretty confident about.”

Sam looked a little bewildered and frustrated, but also very concerned. “But why?”

“I don’t know.”

A light summer rain started spraying down as the SUV approached the guesthouse nestled in a quiet, green pocket of trees halfway up the hill. It looked even better than it did in the photos. Sam had tried a few times to change my mind, then had fallen into sullen silence as we drove through town center and started up the more serene hill area. The nearest houses were a 10-minute drive behind us and it was 20 or so minutes into town center. The best part was that it was hours away from Cape Town and Mark.

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose as I hopped out into the warm drizzle and grabbed my case and laptop bag from the back. I ran up the steps with them and placed them securely out of the rain before going back to Sam who still hadn’t opened his eyes. His expression reminded me of when I was a little kid and used to close my eyes tightly to wish bad things away.

I was soaked through to the skin as I stood there grinning at Sam through the small gap he’d opened in the driver’s window.

“Thanks for this. I know it’s really strange behaviour on my part, but it feels good. Who knows, maybe this is the beginning of my new spontaneous and happy self.”

He eyed me suspiciously then turned an appraising eye on the lodge behind me. “Well, I suppose it is beautiful. At least it’s not one of those awful faux safari huts with the tacky outdoor showers.” His eyes snapped back to mine, “Call me if you change your mind. I’ll fetch you, any time. Or if you need anything. And don’t let-”

“Yes, mother.” I laughed at his glare. “You’re an awesome friend, Sam.”

“A change from the guy who’d thought me loopy in high school.”

“Oh, you’re definitely loopy. It’s just so happens I’m in the mood for a little craziness of my own choosing.”

“Well, this certainly fits the bill. Go inside before you catch your death. And don’t forget: call me any time.”

I waved him off and stood rooted to the spot for a minute. As a smile slowly spread I took a deep breath and felt it reach all the way into my lungs and down to my toes. Then I ran back up to the front door. It was closed, to keep the rain and muggy breeze out, I presumed. So I rang the bell and propped a forearm against the jamb as I leaned my head slightly down and watched water droplets plop off the tip of my nose.

When the door opened I raised my head – and promptly lost my newfound smile. My brown-haired architect choked on whatever welcoming words were meant to reach me. He was tall and gorgeous and gave off an inviting warmth – just as I’d always remembered. The five years since that year of varsity simply imploded and scattered off in the breeze. I felt 18 and gauche again.

I’d swallowed my tongue in shock, but luckily he’d found his, “You! You kissed me!”

  • Aiden

Five years pass so fast. I’ve forgotten half the things I’ve done, half the people I’ve met in the last five years. Half a decade has shaped me into a new man; I’ve changed a lot and cut many ties. Except for him. I never forgot him, despite the abruptness of our acquaintance.

He was a quiet one, the guy with the silver eyes. I had noticed him around the university campus a few times in the first weeks of our project planning. He was hard to miss. Always the intense, silver perusal half hidden behind ebony waves that hung down to his neck. Never part of a large crowd, never goofing off like the other kids.

I’d been working on the East Campus development contract, leading it actually. My father had hoped that putting me in charge of an assignment that significant would boost my interest in the family business. Hell, for a while it did work.

My plate was full, but even I’d let loose on occasion. Varsity kids can’t help but bring out one’s fun-seeking side. Nothing scandalous, mostly impromptu soccer matches with some students, basketball, quad-biking. A few of the students have even tried to drag me to a couple of parties.

According to my brother I have enough charm to sway a saint. I just call it being a people’s person. I like people and they seem to like me back. However I drew the line at being the only 25-year-old at the student parties. Apparently it’s a preference I had in common with the silver-eyed guy. I’d seen him at the small local coffee-bar on a couple of weekend evenings, enjoying the jazzy ambience with the more mature clientele, rather than the wild rock vibe of the diners a few blocks away.

It was strange how intensely he held my attention without trying – most times without even knowing I was watching. I’d watched him for half an hour on the beach once. He’d been reading a book. Once in a while the breeze would flick his dark tresses across his face and he’d reach up and rake them all back again with his slim fingers. I hurried off as soon as the thoughts about running my fingers through his hair began.

He was around 5’10″; lean, but strong-looking. And? I don’t know. He spent a lot of his free time on the quieter lawns at the bottom edge of campus or ambling up to the library with his laptop bag slung over his shoulder. That’s it, I swear.

So what the hell was going on? I wasn’t interested in the guy, I don’t think. Well, I couldn’t be. I didn’t do guys. I was straight. A straight guy with stalking tendencies, it would appear. It was just his intensity – it was hard to ignore. I’d caught him watching me too, mostly when I was supervising the construction. Sometimes I’d be talking to someone and would find myself obeying the sudden urge to look up or turn, each time he’d been there and I’d been unable to help staring back. I always wondered if he would come up and say anything; he never did. Maybe he was just into the architectural work I was doing.

Since the actual construction work had begun, I had chosen to temporarily move into a one of the university’s faculty apartments just outside campus, rather than commute 3 hours a day. It took me a while to figure out the perfect jogging hour and route as I preferred to have the space all to myself. So after a few failed attempts, I’d cracked it: all the students disappeared from the main campus around sunset. So I mapped myself a route that went up alongside the neighbouring nature reserve fencing to the east, across the top heading west, down through main campus; and back home across the scarcely used lower lawns.

That night was a Friday night. It was even quieter than usual, the students seeming to have gone beer-hunting early. The sun was already half gone when I started, but I went anyway because I needed it.

I didn’t know it was him until I was practically on top of him. I came through some trees and around a trimmed hedge at top speed and tripped over his backpack.


He seemed to jump up and swallow his tongue at the same time. I miraculously avoided a collision and immediately regretted my harsh bellow.

“Ah, hi. I’m sorry about your stuff, man. I didn’t see you there. Plus, I’m a bit of a Klotz anyway so it probably wouldn’t have mattered if I had seen you. Are you okay?”

He nodded shyly from behind glossy waves of ebony hair. I was relieved to see that he didn’t look as petrified anymore. A little unsure maybe, but there was something else there too. That intense tension that I always seem to feel around him. While I was trying to figure the messages in those large, light eyes, he quickly ducked down and started picking up his things and stuffing them in his backpack. His laptop was in its bag on a colorfully striped blanket he’d been lying on. This was the first direct contact we’ve had; I didn’t want it to end just yet. Time for the charm.

“You know, in my culture, when one person forgives another for being a walking hazard, they say this short but impactful statement: ‘No hard feelings. Let’s have coffee sometime’.”

I swear I saw an uncertain smile tug at his lips. I wished he would just let it out. I pressed on, “So, what do you say? It’s the least I can do for nearly trampling you to death?”

Did I just ask him out on a date?

He’d lowered his backpack to the ground next to his laptop bag and was looking up at me with those luminous eyes again. Definitely a slight smile there.

Then that odd vortex-thing happened again. I was standing there like a goof, hand-held out, when he looked at me the way he does and the English language escaped my brain in a puff. Eternity passed in the five seconds before he took my hand and it continued again after. His grip was firm and – don’t laugh – electric. I could feel it flood my veins. I know he felt it too because I felt him tremble. His eyes were like lit diamonds as he took that one step towards me, then his lips were on mine.

I froze.

His lips were surprisingly soft, full. Not like a woman’s, firmer than a woman’s, but for some reason also more sensual. I’m not sure which straight part of me had the thought, Gods, he smells fantastic but I was driven crazy by his closeness. When his moist tongue flicked at my lips I gasped and he eagerly accepted the entry granted.

He was such a swirl of contradictions; too shy to say two words to me and then knocking all thoughts out of my head with sexy playful kisses. It shocked me, but more than that it excited me.

He tasted sweet, something he’d recently eaten, something strawberry-flavoured. And then there was the taste that was all him. That was sweet too, but in a different way. From the moment I identified it I wanted more. And more. I came undone when my tongue met his and groaned as my one hand came up to cup his jaw and the other circled his lean waist to draw him closer. My breathing was fast and ragged; though I couldn’t be sure any oxygen was actually entering my lungs.

I heard him whimper deliciously and at the same time his arms circled my neck, bringing his thighs close enough to brush against mine. My cock jumped. When he rose up onto his toes, his flat abs teased mine, compelling me to tighten my grip around his waist. His smell was all over me as he rubbed against me.

I could feel his rapidly growing hard-on.

My tongue possessed his mouth as his fingers sank into my hair. I’d never noticed before how sexy it was to share the moist heat of an unrestrained kiss, to share a brutal hunger with the one person who could satiate it. No woman had ever made me want to claim them the way I did him. His nails scored my scalp and hot tremors shot straight down my spine. My knees almost caved.

Still holding him, I fumbled down towards the blanket and sat on it. He straddled me. I loved the way his pant-clad thighs gripped me. He smiled at me for a moment, a full and happy smile, and it was so beautiful I paused in amazement; then he ducked his head and nibbled at my neck. When I felt his tongue on my pulse, heat everywhere. I moaned. I… moaned.

My growing erection had solidified, trapped within my track pants. I squirmed, reaching between us to adjust its angle. He felt me and responded by wantonly grinding his own hard on back at me. Hot strawberry puffed out over my face as he sighed, getting swept up in his own erotic lap dance. I dropped my head back as another long moan escaped. My hands drifted down his toned back and grasped his arse to pull him closer. Perfect fit. I pulled him roughly to me, squeezing him and controlling his gyrations a little.

His arms tightened around my neck and I felt his lips at my earlobe. Those playful nips again, harder this time sent sizzling bolts down to join the others in a blaze in my sac. I growled and something took over me.

I lifted him as I rose up on my knees then laid him down on the blanket, covering his tight body with my own bulk. His hair fell back and, for the first time, I had full close-up view of his whole face. His eyes were large, clear; with lashes quite long for a guy. His cheekbones and jaw were lean and firm. His lips, bruised from kissing, were red and sexier than any I’d ever seen.

He shivered as I lay across him and I couldn’t resist capturing his lips again. The only coherent thought I had been that I did not want any of this to stop. I wanted to somehow mark this beautiful boy as mine. At that thought, the grinding of my hips became less controlled and more compulsive. I was consumed by heat and need; and driven nearly insane by feeling his reciprocation.

He tightened his legs around my waist and his next thrust allowed me to feel the full length of his covered cock next to mine. Disjointed desires avalanches through me: wanting to see his penis, touch it, taste him, all of him, possess him, be inside him… The desire was mutual, that much was hotly obvious; but so was the frantic urgency. We were both too manic for release to get the first time right.

I leaned on my forearms as the pace of my thrusts increased I dipped my head to the crook of his neck so I could savour his scent and lick his throat as his string of moans washed over me. He nipped at my neck below my ear, running his tongue over the spot after each bite, to sooth it. I couldn’t control the shudders running through my body and I know he felt them too ’cause I felt him smile against my neck. I wished I could see it. One of my hands went down to grip his ass and pull him in harder, tighter.

Then I felt it. The building, the tightening, the overtaking. And I lost my entire self. He was right there with me. His arms clasped around my back, pressing my chest to his. His thrusts were jerking wildly. Mindlessly my lips captured his as our rhythm quickened and he tipped over the edge.

His muffled cries got me so hot I couldn’t help myself, I followed right behind him with the most savage orgasm I’d ever known. I released his lips to let out a disbelieving roar as spurt after aching spurt shot from me relentlessly. And when his teeth clamped on my shoulder I thought I would pass out from the intensity.

I nuzzled his neck, gasping like no amount of oxygen would ever be enough. A loose grin was on my face as I lazily enjoyed the tingle in my toes, thighs, and everywhere else. Huge wonder my dick didn’t burst off! Though it would need a thorough clean-up – both of us would need a nice hot shower to get rid of all this sweat and the semen puddled at our crotches. Our semen…

Sanity slowly sifted into my brain, polluting the afterglow. What have I done? What have I done?

“Oh shit.”

I felt him stiffen before I even looked at him. But I couldn’t stop the tumble of panic that left my mouth, “What the hell have I done? I’m not… not… And with a bloody student. Oh gods, you’re just a kid!”

“I’m 18.” The first words he spoke to me were a whisper.

“Exactly! An 18-year-old guy! You don’t understand. I’ve never… could never…”

He shoved me aside and stood, groping desperately for his laptop and backpack. “Ok. Ok, I get it… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I just thought… Damn it. I’m sorry.”

I heard the tears in his soft voice and felt like a royal shit. “No, that’s not what I meant. We need to talk.”

“I’d really rather skip it. Please move.” he was tugging ineffectually at the blanket beneath my feet.

“No, not till we… sort this out. What’s your name?” I could feel my pants sticking to the semen spread around my groin.

“Oh damn!” his humiliation was broadcast in his tone.

“Please. I fucked up-”

“I get the message! Go home, have a drink – or ten – and forget about this whole mess. And me. Now move!”

“No, I didn’t mean-”

“D’you know what? Fine, whatever. Keep the damn blanket.” He stomped off before I could figure what was going on.

“No, wait! Please! We have to…”


  • Ethan “Oh shit… Oh shit… Oh shit… Oh shit… Oh shit…”

That was internal. Externally, I think I may have been pulling off some sort of Zen façade.

The internal litany began when my dick jumped at the sight of my architect from five years ago. Less than a minute had passed since he’d opened the door, yet I felt like I might burst into flame if expected to live through another excruciating minute like it.

Of course I’d kissed him all those years ago – he’d been beautiful. Dreaming about him for months on end had led to a moment of freakish insanity. No thought had preceded my move to taste him and now he was looking at me in shocked expectation.

Seriously? I’m supposed to explain my hormonal, lovesick, teenage impulse?

That night, the kiss we’d shared had been impossible to forget. I realised how many times his face had skimmed my thoughts over the years, up to the moment that I unexpectedly found myself dripping on his doorstep, trying to formulate words, any words.

“Um. Um. Uhhh…” Great.

“Get in here. Why are you so wet? Where’s your car?”

Since I couldn’t speak very well, I’m not too sure how well I explained my situation. He did, however, yell for a towel while he got me signed in with a friendly faced clerk named Dan. Dan lifted his left eyebrow a lot. Like when I dripped on the reception desk. And when I had a hard time simultaneously staring at my architect and mastering enough English to give Dan the info he needed. And when my architect assured him that he was mistaken about all the rooms being occupied.

Wait. My architect?

He grabbed my bags, making no eye contact. Distaste, irritation, rejection – all familiar pals of mine. Most people I dealt with were put off by dealing with me. I’m just not the popular, charismatic type. Guess the effects are doubled on straight men who’ve been sexually harassed by gay boys.

“Um… Look, I didn’t know this is where you- that you were-”

His tone was rough, “Not now, not here.”

His expression was so dark it is almost impossible to make out that his eyes were green. He was finally looking at me – but suspicion was not quite the expression I’d been hoping for. I didn’t know what he was expecting me to say, but it didn’t matter because he soon walked off. I followed; of course I did. I could follow that beautifully muscled ass to the ends of the earth, no matter the circumstances.

Hydromax Xtreme X50 Clear

Standing outside, I had noticed that the guesthouse was made up of two wings sprawling to the left and right of the lobby area. My foul-spirited architect did not lead me to either wing, however. Passing the restaurant and adjacent bar, we walked up through the building’s “spine”; out to a large square enclosed garden and then into a third wing, set higher up the property’s slope. The interior was so impressive I wondered what my bill would be by the end of the ten days I intended staying. Did Dan mention rates during my mental fog? And why had I told them I was staying ten days? I could’ve booked for the night and then gone out to find some other accommodation in the morning.

The upstairs room he grimly opened to me was gorgeous and far enough to the back of the lodge to feel secluded and peaceful. When he dumped my bag and left without a word, I shakily forced out a petrified breath in gratitude and looked around. It was a large corner suite. There were settees and a coffee table by the massive west-facing windows and the double bed faced the sliding doors leading out onto the sea-view balcony. I stepped out and realised it was a long balcony, running along the entire side of this wing, with another room’s door opening onto it at the far end. I could only pray that it was unoccupied, or, at least, didn’t have over-zealous social types in it.

A knock at my door called me away from the mesmerizing ocean. Dan smiled when I opened. His left eyebrow was down in its normal position.

“Aiden asked me to bring these up in case you wanted to take a shower immediately. This room hasn’t been used in a while, so housekeeping wouldn’t have dropped any fresh ones off.”

He held out a large pair of slippers and an even larger robe and walked past me with fresh towels and started packing them in the cherry wood dresser next to the bathroom door.


He turned to me. Now the eyebrow’s up, “The man who brought your bag up?”

“Oh, the manager.”

“The owner.”


After an odd look he continued neatly arranging towels then took two into the bathroom.

“Let me know if you need anything else, just dial 9 on the phone. I’m also the most clued up on social life around here, so shout if you want to go sightseeing. There are some great restaurants, though none that beat Rachel, our in-house chef. Speaking of which, are you hungry? The kitchen closed half an hour ago, but I should be able to conjure up a light lunch for you if you don’t mind a cold one.”

“No. Thanks.”

Quick shrug. “Alrighty. Anyway, there’s also a market down on the beachfront every Sunday. You might dig that. Lots of socializing, minimal spending. By the way, do you speak… more?”

He came and took the oversized robe and slippers from me and went to put them in the closet.

“Sure. Um, sorry. And thanks for the offer to show me around, but I don’t think we’d share a common taste in social spots.”

How did he get that brow even higher? “Oh really? Well I am the only one on staff who knows the address of the new gay bar that opened in central town. I’m also the only one who can get you into the small exclusive gay club downtown since my partner manages it. And, considering gay people do the rest of the stuff that the other boring folk do, I figure I’m pretty well equipped to take you eating, shopping, hiking or whatever.”

He was grinning from ear to ear by the time I swooned at his third “gay”.

“I didn’t say I was-”

His look turned quizzical, “So you’re bi? Sorry, I was just so sure.”

“No, you’re right. I am gay. But how did you know? I don’t exactly… swish.”

His grin was back. “I ogled Aiden the same way for about a month when I started working here. Six foot two of golden muscle will do that to you. Or maybe it’s those stunning green eyes.”

He laughed. I didn’t have to ask why; I’d felt the heated blush begin in my neck and rise from there.

“Don’t fret; the man’s an irresistible god – how are you supposed to ignore that?” His gaze turned lewder conspiratorial as he headed for the door. “Enjoy your shower.”

My blush deepened. His impish laugh skipped around me as he closed the door behind himself.

My shower was a long one. The moment I stepped under the spray my imagination had Aiden in there with me. Despite his grim welcome, I found myself unable to stop thinking about his sun-streaked brown hair and his sensuous lips. I wondered what his large frame looked like naked. He was well-built, not in the manner of gym freaks, more of a blend of genetic gifts and a healthy lifestyle.

Six foot two of golden muscle… I tugged at the erection that had been simmering since I’d arrived and its heat hit boiling point. I raised my face to the spray and savored the feel of the rivulets running down my stomach, across my groin and down my thighs. I remembered the way Aiden had touched my face five years ago as we lay on that blanket in the sunset. His fingers had skimmed my face as lightly as the water down my body now. Oh, the thought of those hands all over my body…

Well, I’d certainly succeeded in blocking out the pain and fear of… that other guy. I would laugh at the exhilaration of not thinking of him for a whole hour – if I didn’t feel like crying, because crushing on a straight guy was far, far worse.

And yet here I was, stroking my dick to the recent memories of Aiden’s deep voice and powerful arms. Slick with the mixture of water and precum and aching for the completion of a five-year-old fantasy. Six foot two of golden muscle…

My nipples pebble and my cock was aching like it did when I was fourteen and Matt the surfer had moved into the house down the street. My strokes sped up as my other hand slid down to cup my heavy balls and give them a tug. I moaned as I pictured Aiden on his knees, taking my length between those sexy lips; and that was all it took. Within seconds I was leaning weak-kneed against the tiled wall, spurting like a teenager.

After drying off, I put on the plush robe. It was so luxurious; I didn’t know how I was ever going to take it off. Aiden certainly knew how to make his guests want to stay forever.

A thought occurred to me and I went to the bed. I picked up the phone and dialled 9.

Dan was prompt, “Mr Montgomery?”

That threw me. “No, uh, Dan. It’s me, Ethan. You brought me towels earlier.”

I’d never heard his laugh sound anything but mischievous, “Yes, Mr Gray. I must’ve read the room number on the switchboard all wrong. You need anything?”

“Yes and, please, call me Ethan. I’ve just noticed that I wasn’t given a room key. Could you please send it up?”


“Uh, sure. In fact, I’ll get Aiden to sort this out himself,”

“No! You don’t have to-” Dial tone.

I panicked. And since my panicking tends to come sans rational thought but loaded with impulsive action, I cinched my giant robe as best I could and ran from my room. I had to get to Dan and that key. I needed more time before having to deal with the grim Mr Montgomery.

I flew down the stairs and tripped on the last one, but fortunately I was saved from smooching the laminated wood floor by muscular arms and a solid chest. Goosebumps blossomed up my arms and even before I looked up I knew it would be into Aiden’s irritated gaze.

“I’m sorry. I think I tripped on the robe.”

“You were planning on running out there in just this?”

I felt my neck warm and prayed for the damn blush not to make it to my face. “I, uh, had to see Dan. Urgently.”

His eyes narrowed sharply in an expression I couldn’t name, then he took a deep breath. As his chest rose, I became aware of his grip on me and my treacherous body doing all it could to mould itself to his hard heat. I felt like I was being sniffed out by a predator on the hunt. I wanted to nuzzle his neck and run my tongue along his jaw line. I jerked back before he caught me out.

His green eyes pinned me in place, “How did you find me?”

Confrontation time and I was anything but prepared. “I didn’t. I was on my way up the coast with a friend, but then I changed my mind on the way and came here.”


I groped for a less feeble answer then gave up and muttered, “I don’t know.”

The air around us vibrated with Aiden’s angry growl of disbelief. “You expect me to believe that you wandered into a town that you don’t know with nowhere else to stay, in the middle of peak vacationing season – and my doorstep, all the way up the hill, outside of the town itself is the place where you coincidentally find yourself?” His gaze narrowed threateningly, “Don’t insult my intelligence. Now cut to the chase.”

His menacing expression terrified me, which served only to increase my confusion. “I don’t- I don’t know what you mean by-”

“How. Much?” The words snapped from between clenched teeth.

I cowered against the banister behind me. “How much what? I really don’t-”

The disgust on his face almost distracted me from his words and their meaning, “You have obviously been doing your homework. At some point between that night and this day, you found who I was… how much I have. Once the greed had wormed its way into that stupid little head of yours, you discarded all common sense and decided to find me; and what? See how much money you could wheedle out of me to keep my fiancée in the dark? Well, I have news for you. I don’t give a damn who you tell. It’s too late. I won’t have-”

“You’re engaged.”

That’s all I comprehended from his vicious tirade.

The last time I’d seen Mark, the night I’d gotten a restraining order against him, he’d smashed a glass in my face in a club. When I’d fallen to the floor, he’d kicked me. In said face. Large shards had lodged themselves in various parts of my face. I still sport two very faint scars, a small one above my right eye and a larger one along my jaw. Doctors had said I was lucky that he’d missed my eye, tongue and throat.

This hurt more than that.

“Yes, I’m engaged. What game are you playing?”

“No game.” I husked. “I really didn’t know any of it. That you own this place, or that you’re getting married. But don’t worry; I’ll be out by morning.”

I made a move for the stairs, praying that I wouldn’t collapse before reaching my room, but he blocked my path. I hated being cornered. Being mocked, threatened or despised were normally simpler to deal with as the other party were never too keen on being around the source of their disgust for long. But the ones who insisted on confrontation made it unbearable. He wasn’t saying a word, just staring as if reaching into me and touching parts I would never share with anyone.

Finally he spoke. “Ok. I believe you. It’s all damned strange, but I believe you.”

I sagged in relief, but then tensed immediately when he added, “But you can’t leave.”

“No, I must-”

“You won’t find any accommodation in Plett or any of the surrounding towns. This region gets booked full every December, what with Christmas coming, and all the summer tourists. Plus you don’t have a car. Forget it, you have to stay. We’ll figure something out over the next few days.”

How many days can I stand, watching you and the woman you love? How long before it breaks me?

“I can’t stay. Your fiancée-”

“Isn’t here for the next week. Look, don’t worry about her. I’m offering you a room, please accept it as apology for the things I said to you. I don’t normally blow up like that, guess it’s the godawful time I’ve had lately.”

It actually took me a moment to remind myself that the cause of his ‘godawful time’ was none of my business. Let his big-breasted bimbo lick his wounds for him. “That’s alright.”

“No, it’s not. I had no right to use you as a punching bag, no matter how lousy things have been for me.”

No one had ever taken back hurtful things they’d done to me before. That is what I blame for my moment of weakness.

“Listen, I’ll stay, if you quit beating yourself up about this. It’s no big deal, really.”

Again I tried to circle and pass him, and again he stood in my way. I didn’t know how much longer I’d be able to face that muscular chest without making a fool of myself by nuzzling into it.

“Dan called me, he said you needed me.”

Shit. “Oh, no. Well-” I croaked

“You don’t?”

“No, I do. Yes. But-”

“Which is it?”

I don’t know. “I don’t have a room key. I called Dan to ask if he could have it sent up. I didn’t think he’d send you.”

“Oh, that. There isn’t one.”

“What? That can’t be right. What happens when I go out?”

“You close your door. I’ll give you the spare keys to the main and back doors of this wing. Your things will be perfectly safe.”


“Ok, here’s the deal: the two lower wings that you saw out front, those are the actual guesthouse. This northern wing is private.”


“Yes, it’s my personal home. The guesthouse is completely booked as it is every peak season. You are staying free of charge in a guest suite in my home. The second door on the balcony upstairs leads into the master bedroom. My bedroom.”

With that, he left.

  • Aiden The Montgomery had been an early inheritance from my grandparents two years ago. It had been their home of thirty years by then, secluded and sprawled out at the top of the enormous piece of land they’d bought on Victory Hill. They were now in Cape Town, retired and frustrating my parents with outlandish business and decor advice. My granddad wants my parents to paint their living room walls red.

My brother, Chris, had shown zero interest in owning half of an aging seaside home, so I’d bought his share and set about renovating. A guesthouse had been born out of impulse, intuition and serendipity. I’d loved the end result so much that I couldn’t sell it for profit as I’d originally intended. After four months of avoiding putting it on the market, my father had hinted that I might benefit from actually working the place. So, a year ago, I sold Chris most of my shares in the family business – he thrived there so much more than I ever had anyway – invested the money, and moved out to Plettenberg Bay with Carolynn.

And it was the best advice, I’d ever taken. Sitting behind my desk in my home office, I felt like I truly belong in this town, and this life. Even despite the photos, papers and tapes scattered on my desk.

Carolynn had spat pure fury when I’d asked her to give up the glamour of being a pampered socialite and begin a new life in a fairly small town. We’d argued almost daily for the last year. She’d even tried withholding sex, which hadn’t bothered me as much as I’d thought it would. Then she’d started taking longer and longer trips into the city. I should’ve known what was coming.

Ms Kelley, private investigator, watched me in silent empathy as I looked at hard evidence of my fiancée’s infidelity. Ms Kelley had phoned me three days ago and I’d insisted on hearing her findings over the phone: Carolynn was sleeping with a married 54-year-old business tycoon who was providing her with every monetary luxury she demanded. I’d dropped the receiver at the end of the conversation, angry but not entirely surprised.

I’d immediately called Dan and had him arrange for all of Carolynn’s belongings to be boxed and moved to the small guest bedroom until she could collect them. I appreciated his discretion when he came up and took care of it himself, no questions asked. After that I’d called my mother; who’d been marvellous at consoling me and cancelling all the wedding arrangements that she could in the last three days. Then I’d gone to the clinic and gotten tested. The results came back clean – my one silver lining.

Now all that is left is to face Carolynn and personally kick her out of my life for good. She was in the city for another week, which was fine by me – I couldn’t stomach her just yet.

I escorted Ms Kelley out of the study after thanking her for her work. She eyed me sadly yet again then surprised me by enfolding me in her tiny arms. The woman was small but strong, and it turned out that a little compassion was just what I needed in that moment. I amazed myself by hugging her back in gratitude. A thump, a tumble and a groan in the foyer broke us apart. We turned to see Ethan, who appeared to have been sneaking out of the house before he tripped over the little foyer table. The man should come with an “Accident Prone” sign.

He blushed up at us sheepishly, “I didn’t want to interrupt. Hi, you must be Aiden’s fiancée.” He stood and shook hands with Ms Kelley.

She was straightforward, “Faye Kelley. And, no, I’m not the fiancée. In fact, I don’t imagine she’d be too happy to find me here.”

I walked her out. “Thanks again for everything. This has meant a lot to me.”

She gave me a small smile, “Just wish it could’ve been different.”

“I know. Goodbye.”

I closed the door wearily. Ethan was still in the foyer, looking rather hot under the collar.

“That wasn’t your fiancée.”


“You hold everyone you don’t intend marrying that intimately?”

Is he serious? “That wasn’t intimate holding. You, more than most, would know what my ‘intimate holding’ is like.”

He blushed at that, but didn’t seem at all appeased. “I’m not judging you or anything,” Right. “I would just prefer not to bear witness to your illicit affairs.”

“Are you kidding me? You’ve been stuttering and quivering since you arrived here, and this is what brings you out of your shell? You don’t even know what the hell’s going on. And, as for my affairs… Hey, I don’t owe you any explanations, so kindly back off. Gods, anyone would think you’re my bloody fiancé!”

Ethan glared at me and I was momentarily thrown by the amazing shine that came into his eyes. They really were like diamonds. Something happened in my chest, something hot and unexpected – I nervously smothered it before it could take hold. Ethan just shook his head at me before slamming out the front door.

Shitty. This has been a really shitty week.

  • Ethan Hiding has become a forte of mine. I came out of the closet when I was fifteen, and have been hiding from my father ever since. My mother had embraced me and loved me since my confession till the day she died in a car wreck a year later. My father, on the other hand, had withdrawn behind hateful glares and daily bigoted comments. The more I hid from him, the less he was able to hurt me.

University had almost scared me witless. Its size, the overwhelming personalities I’d met – my world had grown majorly. Keeping mostly to myself and as far under the radar as I could, became my coping mechanism. The less people noticed me, the less chance they’d find a reason to hate me. It worked for me. Well, not really, but it was a necessary evil I had learnt to accept.

Now, not only am I on the run from Mark, but I’ve spent the weekend hiding from Aiden – in his own house. I’ve been holed up in my room, working. Not because I need to, but because working was the only way of getting Aiden Montgomery out of my mind. He of the deep voice, the dashing good looks and the mesmerizing confidence. He even had a bloody Knight-of-the-Round-Table type name. I’d spent my life losing to guys like him. I’m afraid of what losing this time could mean for me.

I already felt like I was losing. I mean, what the hell was I thinking two days ago, confronting him about his girlfriend? I shuddered at the memory. The words, the way I felt had just slipped out before I’d collected enough sense to stop myself. There was no way I could face him after that.

I groaned and sank further into the pillows. I felt like I was the dim-witted prey and he was the lion, ready to pounce when I least expect it. I rolled my stiff neck, saved my work and turned off the laptop.

The bedside clock read 20:50. What the heck, an early night would be good for me. I stripped, took a shower then climbed into bed. I’d dialled Sam’s cell number before I knew what I was doing.

On the third ring, “Have you forgotten about him?”




“Oh that’s fantastic! But what could possibly have distracted you after a mere 3 days? Or should I say who? And how big is he? Hopefully waaay more than 3 inch-”

“Sam.” Sometimes I just wanted to hiss and spit at him. Fortunately the rest of the time I wanted to hug him, so thus far the balance has been worthwhile. I did, however, tell him all. Well, most of it.

After an awful moment of silence, “Sugar, please don’t go falling for a straight guy. I hated seeing what Mark had done to you; but this, this will kill you.”

I rubbed my throbbing temple, “Don’t worry, I’ve already told myself that speech ten times. It’s just that it’s such a bizarre coincidence, don’t you think? Randomly landing on his doorstep like that?”

“Yeah. Of all of the doorsteps, in all the peninsulas, you had to step onto the one belonging to the engaged, straight guy. Get your head out of the clouds, sugar. The man is not interested; he’s taken for goodness sake.”

“Well, that commitment doesn’t look to airtight.” I mumbled shamefully.

“So? The goon’s clearly too close-minded to release a side of himself that’s obviously interested in exploration, maybe more. And the fact that he’s willing to hurt you like that, then and now, makes him a coward and a fool.”

“Sam, please don’t call him names. You’re assuming the worst about him and you could be wrong.” Why am I defending him?

“And if I am? Are you telling me you’re planning on taking more of this abuse while hoping to turn him gay and get him to come out?”


“Or would a short-term fuckfest suffice? And even if you succeed, you get him in your bed; what then, sugar? The most you can expect is one week of fantastic sex followed by rejection when he can’t bring himself to commit. I know his type. He’ll kick you out of his life the moment the holiday’s over.”

I felt something ugly coming to the boil in my gut. I just wanted some quiet, some sleep. Not this. “Samuel, I may not be sure ’bout what I’m doing but I’m a grown man and can take care of myself. I just needed to unload a little. Agh, this talk’s doing more damage than good. Let’s just drop it, ok? Goodnight.”

I replaced the receiver before he could respond.

  • Aiden I’m down in The Montgomery, in the plush office I use to impress (or intimidate) when meetings come to my turf. I’m not hiding. Not really.

Mike – Michaela, my brother’s wife – had picked out the decor. A large Oriental rug on the wooden floor, wooden venetian blinds at the windows behind my oversized desk; and a combination of antique wood and dark leather furniture gave the room a feel of confident masculinity. African paintings and sculptures were my favourite items in here. So much so, that I bought some for the main house as well.

No meeting today, though. I’m on the phone with my financial advisor, not hearing a clear word he’s said since mentioning that most of my investments are doing better than we could have hoped for, considering the markets. I could have taken this call in the small study I have in my home, but Ethan is there. For some reason, I appear to be on a quest to act a fool around the man. I, Mr Charm, have never tripped all over myself, nor been as offensive with anyone as I have since his arrival.

And yet you made sure to keep him here. Why?


“Hm? I’m sorry, what?” I can hear by Rick’s concerned tone that he must have called my name a few times already.

“You sound preoccupied. No worries, just the property issue and then I’ll cut you loose. I was asking what you want to do about those investments? Residential property values have taken a dive, but the business sites seem to be holding on a little stronger. Do you want to play it safe and bail? It could be a while before things swing back up to the way they were.”

“I’m in it for the long haul, Rick. So hang on to all the property.”

“Smart man.”

Another two minutes and we wrapped up, leaving me with my thoughts of Ethan. How is it possible for another man to take up so much of my inner space? When I had sat down at my desk half an hour ago, instead of calling Rick right away, my first call had been to Rachel in the kitchen, ordering a ridiculously lavish breakfast to be sent up to the house as soon as she was done with the crowd in the restaurant. To the man who’d nearly snapped my head off the last time we’d spoken.

I’m afraid of scrutinising my reaction to Ethan. It challenges aspects of my identity that I had thought needed no discussion. There’s a sort of magnetic dance that we’re doing with each other, neither able to avoid what is now starting to look like the inevitable.

Oh, the inevitable, hey? And what is that precisely?

The kiss five years ago flashed hotly in my mind and my groin tightened. No. I am not fantasising about making love to the man because he is a man. If I were gay or bi or whatever, wouldn’t these feelings for men have surfaced in my teens? I’d never even been curious about any other man. And I’d heard many say that they’d known even before their teens. Nothing in me knows anything. Except when I think of Ethan and that crazy vortex silkily draws me in. There’d even been a sliver of jealousy when he’d been so eager to get to Dan a few days ago. I was afraid of what that meant, the same way I didn’t want to scrutinise the satisfaction of holding him after he nearly fell.

Circles, all I did was spin in circles when it came to Ethan Gray.

I opened one of the desk drawers and took out the extra set of keys I’d promised him. A slight excitement rose in me at the thought of giving him the keys and security codes so that he could share my home. Before more perplexing ideas could form, I stood and headed up to the house.

It was quiet as I entered and the kitchen was empty. At first I assumed Ethan must’ve decided to eat upstairs, but as I turned to leave the kitchen, I caught a glimpse of him through the window. He was sitting out on the back verandah. The kitchen, with its creamy walls and cherrywood cupboards, had very large windows to allow plenty of light in. The windows also gave a wonderful view of my private backyard. The verandah led off to a stone-paved area with a pool to the right and a lawn to the left. At the far end of the lawn a concealed gate opened onto a hidden path that led all the way down to a little secluded beach. It’s a beautiful view and that’s what must’ve drawn Ethan out.

I walked quietly to the backdoor, not wanting to disturb him. From this vantage point I was able to watch him in profile as he lifted lids off the dishes on the tray before him. Breakfast must just have arrived. There was bacon and eggs with grilled mushrooms and tomatoes; another plate held pancakes; and yet another, sliced fruit next to a bowl of muesli. Smaller bowls were also arranged on the tray each containing berry jam, marmalade, honey, freshly whipped cream and vanilla ice cream. How could Rachel let me order so much??

Ethan drew the pancakes, honey and ice cream closer -Really? For breakfast?- and I found myself gut-punched by the joy on his face as he savoured the first bite. As each bite elicited more reactions, I was surprised to find that I was tightly gripping the doorjamb. When he moaned on the final bite I was forced to consciously steady my breathing.

Ten minutes later, pancakes all gone, I assumed he was satisfied. Wrong. After a moment’s hesitation he impishly dipped a finger in the honey bowl then stuck it between his full lips and sucked hard. I hardened in seconds and, instinctively, my hand went down to squeeze the ache. This I could not watch, not if I didn’t intend grabbing him in a minute. I retreated into the kitchen and set some coffee brewing. Then I leaned against the cooking island and just breathed. When the coffee finished brewing, I got a large glass of cool water and poured the coffee into two mugs and headed out the backdoor.

“Thought you might like something to drink after that Winnie the Pooh impression you just pulled.”

He started and his slight jump was accompanied by a dull thud that I assumed was his knee connecting with the table leg. He ignored it though and stared at me with shock and a little apprehension.

“How yong have foo meen wathing me?” His finger was still in his mouth. The honey bowl was empty.

“Since the first pancake.”

He slowly extracted his finger and the sexiness of it almost made me scowl again. I looked away and quickly sat down across from him. I put the glass and one mug in front of him. He took long grateful swallows of water, avoiding looking at me.

“I wasn’t sure how you take your coffee, so I took a guess and added cream and two sugars.”

“That’s perfect.” The apprehension was still there, he’s waiting for me to attack or blow up. It frustrated me.

“Look, uh, uh,” Is it my name he’s struggling with? He decided to skip it. “I had no right to attack you about, about.. her. You were right. This is your house and you’re a grown man who certainly owes me no explanation.”

“I’m sorry for being such a bastard to you.” He blinked in surprise, but chose to hold his tongue and wait me out. “Again.”

He sipped his coffee thoughtfully and, as I’d hoped, all his defences seemed to melt as his face lit up, “This is amazing. Where’d you get this?”

“I made it. I promised you coffee that night.”

His ears went pink. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. I don’t know why I did.”

“Maybe because it’s what a gay guy does with a man he finds attractive.”

His eyes widened as the blush deepened. I don’t blame him, I wasn’t expecting that either. Needless to say, my behaviour’s been crazier than usual of late. He ducked his head and his hair fell forward; I had to clasp my fingers together to keep from brushing it back.

“You know what I mean,” he whispers.

“The bigger question is why did I kiss you back?”

Now why the hell would you go and say that?

He looked up sharply. My strained smile dropped as agitated defensiveness rose; I dropped the set of keys on the table.

“Keys, as promised.”

“Aiden.” My name left his lips on a whisper that made my stomach clench. He looked into my eyes, “The bigger question. I was wondering what the answer is.”

Now I shifted awkwardly and cursed myself for starting something I could not possibly finish. So I stood.

“I don’t know, Ethan. There’s something between us, it’s impossible to ignore. As to what it is, who knows? Possibly a big mess bringing more stress than I want. And a mess is the last thing I need right now. I have nothing to offer you. So what’s the point of scratching at this or making meaningless promises?”

Having royally fucked up the moment, I decided to run like the coward that I’d become. I didn’t see his tears but, somehow, I felt them.

  • For two days I lived like a fugitive in my own home. After hurting Ethan the way I had, I couldn’t bear to face him; so I made sure to avoid spending too much time around the house. I left early each day and ate breakfast in the guesthouse office. I scheduled meetings back to back and made sure not to set foot in the north wing before bedtime.

To be honest, I was also running from the way I felt around him. I wanted to wipe his tears, not cause them. I wanted to hold him and let the fireworks in my chest just soar whichever way they wished. I wanted to kiss him, taste him, to remind myself of the feel of his skin. I wanted to hear him moan my name…

The sun was already quite high when I woke up Thursday morning. It must’ve been the exhaustion brought on by the stress of tiptoeing around my guest and my feelings, but I hadn’t slept this late in a long time. I rolled over and squinted at the clock – 09:08. Shit, Ethan would be up by now.

B Yours – Sweet n Hard 8 – Blue

Avoiding going downstairs, I swept the sliding door drapes aside and stepped out onto the balcony – and promptly froze. Ethan. He was there. More than that, he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He was at his end of the balcony with his back to me so he didn’t yet know I was out there. He was wearing loose-fitting pants and crouched in a yoga pose, a bright red yoga mat beneath his feet. I swallowed at the sight of his firm thighs and rounded butt straining against the light, blue fabric. His skin gleamed with a thin sheen of sweat.

Leave… now.

I stood transfixed as he inhaled a deep and steady breath while lifting his arms above his head, palms facing each other. His skin was taut and peachy. The lean muscles of his back danced smoothly into the new position. On the exhale his palms came together and he lowered them to his chest then twisted his torso to his right. I held my breath and prayed that he wouldn’t notice me out the corner of his eye. He didn’t. His eyes were closed. I wanted to kiss his soft eyelids. On his next inhalation he faced forward again, lifting his arms to the sky and rising out of the crouch. Before I could let out a sigh of relief he exhaled, bending his body in half at the waist till his palms touched the floor.


Before I could stop it, an image flashed through my mind: gripping his hips possessively, tightly enough to bruise him as I pound into-

I ducked back into my room as if dodging a bullet. These thoughts were tormenting me more frequently each day that he spent here; and I finally acknowledged that I needed a resolution or risk losing my mind.

In the shower the water helped soothe my muscles and ease my turmoil somewhat. It did nothing for my erection, though. I hadn’t been this turned on and emotionally conflicted in years. I tried to remember a simpler time in an uncomplicated relationship.

Varsity. I’d dated a pretty brunette named Jemma. We’d shagged like rabbits for the entire duration of our relationship, until she had left to complete her studies in the UK. I recalled her face, flushed and sweaty as she rode me. I threw my head back against the shower wall and increased the pace of my stroke. Had her thighs been soft or firm? I teased my leaking slit as I tried to recall.

Ethan’s were hot and firm and felt like they were made to cradle me. Not once in the time that I’d known Jemma – or Carolynn, for that matter – had I wanted to walk up behind her, grab her, ram her, climb into her. Had I ever wanted to consume her till she could speak no word other than my name? Ever noticed beauty in more than just her sexual parts?


Ethan had little things that I’d never thought about in aesthetic terms before. Like that spot a few inches below his neck where his shoulder blades met. I could spend an hour licking that and be content. And the slightly lighter shade of the insides of his wrists in comparison to the rest of his arms made the skin there look so soft. And the two grooves that ran on either side of his pelvis where his thighs met his groin, made my breath hitch. Well, that could also be because my balls were pulling up sharply as precum drooled down, slickening the length of my painfully swollen penis. Slick enough to glide satisfyingly into his tight warmth.

No! I can’t be coming to thoughts of-

Ethan’s beaded nipples, his gleaming skin, his tight arse. His tight arse.

His tight arse! My orgasm exploded before I could coherently recognise its arrival, before I could stop it. It rumbled up my legs and made me thrust reflexively, moaning because my hand simply wasn’t enough. The skin on my back prickled as I thought about him right there, within reach. I sank against the wall.

When the hell did I stop thinking about Carolynn – no, Jemma – and start fantasising about the man on my balcony?

I didn’t dwell on it. I fled.

I slipped from my room in calf-length shorts and a t-shirt and headed to the downstairs guest bathroom to retrieve my wetsuit and hightail it out of there. I’d heard reports of some decent waves and hoped a few hours spent surfing would loosen me up. And keep me away from Ethan. I breathed a sigh of relief as my front door closed behind me.


Then I stiffened two steps into the enclosed garden between my home and the guesthouse. Ethan was crouching on the paving in the centre, shoulders slumped. His forehead was leaning on one knee and the sunlight hit the back of his head, making his hair shine. He’d heard my footsteps and spun around, snapping his startled gaze to mine.

Now the sun picked up the tears in his eyes, making each drop gleam before it fell to his cheek. His irises were sparkling again, but it’s different to the other times. They were so light they were almost colorless, bright with the pain that had driven him to his knees beneath the clear blue skies.

I didn’t stop to think. I dropped my bag and strode to him, heart reaching out. He turned his face from me as if to hide, but I dropped down and embraced him anyway. His skin and hair were warm, his tears cool against my neck. I held him tightly, rubbing his back with one hand and combing the fingers of the other through his hair. I squeezed him to me until his tense withdrawal melted and his resistance poured out with the sobs he no longer tried to stifle. He shook as his arms went around my neck and locked us together as if he were breathing only through the breaths I drew.

I stood and he moved with me, refusing or unable to loosen his hold on my neck, so I wrapped him in my arms and lifted him. He seemed to hesitate until I crooned, “It’s ok, baby.” then his legs circled my waist and I was able to walk into the house with him.

I headed straight for his room, rubbing the agonised curve of his spine the whole way. When we got there, I sat on the bed with him on my lap and leaned back against the continental pillows. I eased him down beside me as the weeping slowly ebbed. At the same time I felt the tight knot in my chest ease and unfurl, making it a little easier to breathe. I’d never had such an acute reaction to another’s pain before.

Probably because I knew I was the cause of this particular torment. I’d insisted that Ethan stay in my home and then done nothing but needle him since he’d arrived – and finally he’d broken down. I was ashamed of myself. Now I had to face the consequences. When his strength and senses returned he’d lash out, no doubt. And insist on packing up and leaving. I’d understand such a desire, but also knew that I had to do whatever it took to make sure that didn’t happen. I had no idea how convince him to stay.

Well, an apology was a good first step. I took a breath. And a second, deeper one.

“Ethan… I’m so sorry. Seems like I’m always apologising to you… You don’t deserve anything I’ve said to you, or the way I’ve treated you. Seeing you like this… it’s awful. I know you probably want to get as far away from as you can – why do I always make you want to run from me? – but please give me one more chance. I think something’s happening between us, whether I understand it or not. I know what I said before, but… I think about you… and want to touch you. But that’s not all there is: I want to see you happy, like the way your eyes sparkled when you stood on my doorstep, sopping wet but with a grin on your face the day you arrived. I want-”

A snort came from my chest area. I stopped and listened. Nothing. Then I looked down. Ethan was fast asleep, snuggled up on my chest. His long black lashes fanned his cheeks and soft, sweet breaths burst from his lips at regular intervals. I inhaled deeply, savouring the moment, pretending for a heartbeat or two that he was mine to hold and I was in his dreams as he slumbered. He probably didn’t hear a word I’d whispered. Would he be interested in listening when he woke up? I doubted it.

I eased him off me, deciding to let him enjoy his peace. Getting his arms untangled was tricky as he tightened his grip when I tried to get him to let go. I smiled at his mumbled protests, taking a little satisfaction in the thought that I might not be the only one caught in this unshakeable bond.

“Ethan, baby, let go. Shhh…” I finally stood.

“Mark, please. Don’t… go…”

The plea shot straight through my core and an instant chill whipped around my throat and settled at the nape of my neck. Mark?

Obviously his partner, you self-deluding dipstick. Shallow breaths, shallow breaths, why the hell couldn’t I get a deeper breath in?

I numbly reached for the green throw at the foot of the bed and covered him with it. My hand went to brush his hair back when I came to my senses and clenched it instead.

Then I turned and left.

Written By: Azanian Heat

Picture: Google+

Looking for writer’s who want to post their stories on GayNerdy.com

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