Friday, September 23, 2005

Verdad

A while back, I decided I wanted a summer boyfriend. I auditioned a few candidates, and while they looked great and the sex was fine, they were unable to supply something essential.

A second date.

About that same time, I got in touch with Marcus and made him pull out his calendar. We coordinated schedules for ourselves, our exes, our children, and our vacations—if this sounds simple, it was not—and found that we had many days we could spend together.

And so it was that my best friend Marcus emerged as my summer boyfriend.

Every week or two, he drove up to New York to spend a few days with me.

Marcus proved to be the perfect boyfriend. He praised my home cooking and picked up the tab when we went out. He enjoyed the music I played and spun his own great tunes. He held me when we slept and kissed me when we woke.

The sex was as good as it gets, despite his unyielding quest to plug my ass with his cock or whatever else may be at hand.

The sex was also never lacking in variety, for when Marcus is around, the skies open and Lord have mercy, its raining men.

Every month, I co-host a male sex party with my pal Jimmy. Jimmy takes care of the guest list; I supply the place and schmooze the newbies.

Marcus loves these parties, and these parties love Marcus. He’s bisexual, and he enjoys sex with women, but I tell you what: you put that boy in a gay orgy, and he is a fish taking to water.

The sun was still setting as guests arrived, filling the apartment with a warm glow. As each man arrived, he spent a few moments with Jimmy, who checked them off his list and directed them to remove their clothes.

The men shook the day off their naked flesh, settling readily into cruising mode.

Brandon was among the fist to arrive. He had picked me from the crowd at the previous party, and we had been joined by Marcus for a threesome that was, for me, the highlight of that night.

But on this night, Brandon seemed a bit withdrawn, disinterested in socializing. He kept his wallflower eyes to the bookcases, hands folded behind his nude buttocks as he perused titles.

I made my hellos and left him to his browsing.

Marcus arrived as the party got underway. He kissed me and was quickly undressed, joining the men who swallowed one another in a glance.

I remained in the living room, still dressed and acting as social director. I was preparing to join the festivities when a new fellow came into room, fresh from Jimmy’s processing and just out of his clothes.

He sat awkwardly on the couch, seemingly unsure what he was supposed to do.

I sat next to him and introduced myself.

His smooth body was pale, with short black hair and deep brown eyes visible through narrow glasses. I couldn’t help but note a slight resemblance to Shelby.

But that may have been my own wishful thinking. I had not seen her in weeks. Now I searched for her in him.

It had been so long, I was looking for that girl everywhere.

Even in this boy, with his discreet nose ring and tattoos in a few different languages—all meant “truth,” he would later explain.

“How are you? I’m Jefferson. This is my place.”

“Nice to meet you,” He bobbed his head in lieu of shaking hands. “I’m Verdad.”

“Verdad? That’s a great name.”

“Thanks, I like it. Yours too.”

“Oh, thanks. I was named for my grandfather.”

“Oh, cool. I picked mine.”

“Really? What’s your birth name?”

“Uh . . . well, it’s nothing. I’m embarrassed to say.” He crossed his arms across his belly.

“Oh, it’s fine,” I lightly touched his thigh, then removed my hand. “You don’t have to say.”

“It’s nothing, just a very lame name.”

“You only make me more curious, but it’s your name.”

Two more men strolled by, smiling to me as they made their way to the bedrooms.

I smiled back.

“You’ve been to a group party before, Verdad?”

“Not really.”

“Is that a ‘not really’ yes, or a ‘not really’ no?”

“No.”

“Well, welcome. It’s a pretty relaxed group of men—there’s no pressure, and everyone is friendly. But if you have any questions or anything, just let me know.”

“Okay, thanks.” He looked at me. “You’re very nice.”

“Thanks, Verdad. I just want everyone to be comfortable and have a good time.”

“Thanks.” He smiled at me.

“Sure.”

A moment lulled.

“So Verdad, do you consider yourself gay, or bi, or what?”

“Oh, I’m bi,” he asserted. “But I’m a virgin. With girls, I mean.”

“Ah, okay. I’m bi too—though not a virgin anymore.” He laughed. “How old are you, Verdad?”

“Twenty.” He brightened. “My birthday was on Gay Pride Day!”

“Oh, happy birthday! Did you go to the parade?” From the back room, I could hear the sounds of sex drowning out the noise of small-screen pornography.

“Yeah,” he sat up. “It was so great, so many hot guys.”

“Yeah, right? It’s great fun. I was there, too.” In fact, the parade had been my most recent date with Shelby. “So have you been with many guys?”

“Not really.”

“Like, ‘not really,’ meaning . . .”

“Well, one. Like, six months ago.”

“I see.”

That was it. I had my project for the evening.

If Verdad was leaping from his first sexual experience to his first orgy, I supposed it fell to me to act as his Sherpa.

“So, Verdad. You want to make out?”

He nodded and looked up into my eyes.

“Sure.”

“Great. Let’s go back the bedroom.”

I stood and took his hand. He rose and followed me.

I ducked a head into one room and found the bed covered with an interlocking stack of men.

I lead Verdad to the next room.

Here, the men stood, touching one another and watching as Brandon fucked a bottom. The futon was uninhabited.

“Lay down here,” I instructed. “Let me get out of these clothes.” He reclined on his elbows, pulling his shoulders up to his neck. He glanced around the room then back to me.

My eyes never left him.

I pulled my shirt over my head, and dropped my shorts.

Nude, I smiled at him.

I stepped to the bed, then crawled over his body in feline strides.

My face met his.

Our noses nearly touched.

“Kiss me, Verdad.”

His lips parted. He closed his eyes.

How sweet, I thought.

I took his mouth in mine.

The innocence of his kiss shot through me, arousing me with a jolt. I put one hand gently on his cheek. His tongue darted between my lips, exploring.

I gave back a little more than he gave. He replied in kind, drawing his breath heavily through is nostrils.

His elbows collapsed and he fell back.

I lowered my body onto his, from belly to chest to shoulders to face, and took his eyes.

I gave him a kiss to remember.

Our cocks were hard against one another. I pulsed gently into him.

His hands woke up, finally, and were raised to touch my sides and back.

“That’s very nice, baby,” I murmured into his mouth, holding him closer.

His heart quickened, like he was unaware one could speak while kissing, and the realization had surprised him.

“Thanks . . .” he ventured, as I kissed him back to silence.

His legs spread as I pressed into him.

“Verdad, when you had sex six months ago, did you get fucked?”

“Sorta.”

“Well, Verdad, I would like to fuck you now.”

“Okay.” His reply was very matter of fact, as if I had offered a cheese platter.

I leaned over his body to fetch a condom and lube.

“Talk to me as I enter you,” I said, unrolling the condom on my shaft. “Let me know how it feels.”

“Okay.”

I lubed him, parting his legs. My thumb massaged his anus, pressing slowly in.

“Okay?”

“Okay.” He looked a little nervous, but focused on my eyes.

I greased my cock.

I pushed his legs back and up, my thumb firm in place.

The head of my cock replaced my thumb. Verdad looked down to watch.

“Eyes up, baby,” I said. “Look at me.”

His eyes met mine.

I entered him.

Slow. Slight.

His mouth opened, but he was silent.

“Okay?”

He nodded quickly.

More.

“Okay?”

“Uh huh . . .” He drew a deep breath.

I leaned forward, holding my body over his.

More.

“Okay?”

“Yes.”

“I’m entirely in you. Kiss me.”

He gave me his mouth.

I fucked him gently.

A crowd had formed to watch.

I looked up and saw the muscular fellow with the baseball cap—the top whose name I have never learned—as he looked on, jerking, a tinge of envy in his eyes.

Marcus was nearby, between sessions with men.

“Marcus, sit, sit.”

“How’s it going, Jefferson?” he smiled, sitting. “Who’s your friend?”

“Verdad, this is Marcus.” I sat back, keeping my cock deep in place. The boy craned his neck to look back.

“Nice to meet you, Marcus.”

“Likewise. So you are getting fucked, huh?”

“Yeah . . .”

“Feel good?”

“It does . . .”

“Yeah, that Jefferson is a good fuck.”

“He’s fucked you?”

“On many occasions.”

“Oh, cool.”

“Hey Marcus,” I interjected. “Not to interrupt, but we are fucking here. Do me a favor—would you please put your cock in his mouth? Verdad’s never had a threesome.”

“You would like that, Verdad?” Marcus rose to his knees.

“Okay.”

“All right, well, here you go, sweetheart.” Marcus lowered his stiffening cock whole into the boy’s mouth.

The man in the baseball cap strained for a better view.

I fucked Verdad a little harder, a little faster.

He moaned into Marcus’s cock.

Marcus fucked his mouth for a while, then noticed a tall blonde fellow watching him. They exchanged smiles.

“You two are very sweet,” he said, leaning forward to kiss me. “But I am going to get my own piece of ass.” He pulled his cock away and slapped Verdad’s cheek playfully.

Verdad registered shock, then recovered. “Oh, well, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“He seems nice,” Verdad said, after Marcus had left.

“I love him dearly. Now kiss me.”

As we kissed, as we fucked, I held his temples firmly in my hands. He seemed so willing to give himself over to me.

I slipped a hand around his neck.

He drew back, instinctively, and then relaxed.

I squeezed, slightly.

He smiled a little, and surrendered.

He got a nice fucking for that.

We took a break, and I went into the bathroom to wash up. When I opened the door afterwards, he was there, waiting.

“What do you want to do now?” he asked.

“You are one sweet puppy,” I said, taking his hand. “C’mon, let’s look around.”

We watched the men go at it. I wrap an arm around him; we traded whispers about the unfolding scene.

“There’s Marcus,” he pointed.

“That’s right, baby.” Marcus was looming over the blonde, whose legs were bent back. “Let’s move for a better view.”

We crossed the room, I settled into a nearby chair, and pulled Verdad into my lap. I rested my arms across his belly.

“Hello, lovebirds,” Marcus said, looking up. He looked back at the blonde. “Now, first I have to get this testicle into you . . .”

“Oh look, baby,” I said. “Marcus is going to fuck that guy with his balls.”

“Really?” Verdad leaned forward.

“Yep, get a gander.”

A few other men gathered as well.

Marcus folded one testicle into the blonde, then another.

“Now, be still while I get my dick in you . . .”

“Wow,” said Verdad. His hard cock flopped onto my forearm. “He’s really doing it!”

Marcus achieved his objective, and began to fuck furiously.

I stroked Verdad as we watched.

I nibbled on his forearm.

“You are going to make me cum,” he whined. He looked up at the men now watching him.

“Damn straight. Give me what I want.”

He leaned back, suddenly heavy as he involuntarily pushed against my face.

I was unable to see him as his cock pulsed and wet my hand.

Marcus pulled back, sweating. “Okay, that’s how you do it.”

“That’s incredible,” another man said. He was black, very handsome and well built. “But I don’t think that man is finished being fucked.”

“Climb on, cowboy,” the blonde replied. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

“Should I get you off now?” Verdad whispered to me.

“Oh, don’t worry, that’s fine.”

“Are you sure? It doesn’t seem fair—you got me off, I should get you off.”

“You are too sweet, child. Okay, you can suck my cock. Take one of those pillows for your knees—the rug’s a bitch.”

Verdad took the pillow as instructed, and crouched between my thighs. He took my cock.

I sat back to relax and enjoy the show.

He did nice work.

Jimmy popped his head in the room, and then dropped his shoulders in mock exasperation. He came to my chair. “I should’ve known, look for Jefferson, you’ll find him getting blown.”

“How’s it going, Jimmy?”

“Very well, everyone seems to be playing nicely.”

Verdad looked up. “Do you need to talk? Should I stop?”

“No baby,” I said, resting a hand on his head. “You suck that cock while we talk.”

Jimmy and I compared notes on the night. He said the party had dwindled to us—Marcus and the two fellows on the bed, Verdad and me at the chair—so he was cutting out.

“Okay, let me lock up after you,” I said. “Verdad honey, I need my dick for a minute.”

He pulled away from me, and sat back on his knees. “Okay. Should I wait here?”

“No, you go to the other room. I want you to myself for a while.”

“Okay.” He stood and left.

Jimmy shook his head. “You sure train ‘em fast.”

I smiled. “It’s just his nature.”

I kissed Jimmy good night and locked the door. I picked up two bottled waters.

Marcus was fucking his two fellows.

Verdad was alone in a room, sitting on the carpet, waiting.

“Here you go, baby. Now let me think.” I unscrewed a bottle cap and took a drink. “Do I want you to suck me off, or do I want to fuck you?”

“If you want to fuck me, maybe I should go to the bathroom and get ready?”

“Yes, you do that, while I decide.”

I touched his arm as he passed.

Now that he was preparing to be fucked, I decided he would suck me.

I reclined on a bed, knees apart.

“Hey,” Verdad waved as he returned to the room. “So what would you like?”

“How about you suck my cock?”

“Okay.”

He dropped to his knees and, looking up at me, set to it.

What the boy lacked in experience, he made up for with determination.

Marcus appeared in the door.

“You gonna come, Jefferson?”

“Yes, in just a moment . . .”

“No, I mean, you gonna come? We’re going out for dinner.”

“Oh, well, yes . . . just a minute.”

I focused on Verdad’s mouth.

His tongue.

“Okay baby, I’m cumming.” He pulled back and I shot into the air.

Verdad smiled.

“Nice work,” Marcus said. “Now c’mon, we’re starving.”

As we walked the streets, I realized that in all the months I have hosted his party, I have never once socialized afterwards with the men I fucked.

That’s the influence of Marcus.

I took Verdad’s hand in mine, enjoying a warm public display as we listened to Marcus banter with the other fellows.

I finally learned their names. The blonde was Henry. The black guy was Carl.

We ate a burger joint café. The city was still at this hour.

The conversation was sharp and quick. Henry, a former callboy, traded war stories with Marcus. Henry’s tales often involved size queens attracted to his ten-inch dick.

Carl reminded the boys to keep their voices low; there were other diners. We turned the conversation to him; he was off to Paris for school soon.

Look at me, I thought, out past midnight with smart good-looking gay men. Some life.

We all traded contact information as we parted ways. Carl walked north, heading uptown.

I didn’t know it yet, but meeting Carl would later prove most fortuitous.

The rest of us walked south.

At the subway station, I kissed Verdad goodbye.

“Can I see you again?” he asked.

“I’d like that. I had a great time.”

“Cool. Well, thanks.”

“Good night, baby. Have a good trip home.”

A few blocks further, and Henry peeled off.

“Marcus, you can call me anytime,” he kissed my friend. “I had the best time.”

“Me too,” Marcus smiled.

Henry extended his hand. “And you, sir, are a fine, fine host.”

I took his hand. “My great pleasure.”

Henry smiled, and waved as he crossed the street. “Good night, boys!”

Marcus retrieved two small cigars and lit them. I took one.

“Jefferson’s got a boyfriend . . .,” he teased, blowing smoke.

“Yeah, well, five dollars says he flakes a second date.”

“I’m too smart to take that bet. That’s what you get for robbing cradles.”

“Perhaps. But how about you and Henry? I saw sparks there.”

“Sweetie, I have no time for that,” he said, slipping an arm around my waist. “Besides, I already have a boyfriend in New York.”









8 comments:

Madeline Glass said...

Sigh.

I miss my boyfriends.

Viviane said...

We now resume our regularly scheduled hot man-on-man action...

Meg said...

i think this just became my favorite out of your recent posts.

i'm very curious to find out if carl is who i think he is...

madeline misses her boyfriends; i miss sex. sigh indeed.

Marvin said...

This is definitely my favorite post from you in a while.

Meg, the sex will return. Soon. And I'll administer some more tender loving care.

Josh Jasper said...

Now that was really sweet. It has me missing the all-male rooms at parties I've been to before.

marcus said...

my favorite post? that would have to be your cock, Boyfriend.

Lexi said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Marla Jo said...

There you go putting your hands around the necks of anything that shows you some skin!

;) Choke artist :P