Lane Cassiter propped haphazardly against the bedroom door, cheeks flushed and streaked with tears, the bottle of Wild Turkey dangling precariously from his loose fist. Fear, uncertainty, and a little bit of something else not quite discernable floated in his bleary aqua eyes. The whiskey bottle slipped until he was barely gripping it with his fingertips. Nolan hastily stepped in and caught it seconds before Lane dropped it, and set it aside on the floor then turned around.
Just inches away, Lane’s uneven breath wafted against Nolan’s face with a strong scent of liquor. “Lane…” Nolan cleared his throat but no other words emerged as he stood caught in the man’s stare.
Just one more time…please, Nolan…make love to me.
Nolan had overheard his quiet, desperate plea as Lane had sagged against his door, sobbing. More than anything, Nolan longed to answer that plea…grant his wish. But the guy was drunk. Wouldn’t that be taking advantage of his vulnerable state of mind?
Lane just stared at him like a little kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, then gripped the side of Nolan’s neck with one hand, his palm searing into his skin. Nolan glanced both ways down the hall; anyone could come along at any minute—including Rodney Castle. Lane shoved his face into his neck, disrupting Nolan’s senses and thought process with his hungry mouth and warm slick tongue. Nolan shuddered, his heart suddenly going wild. Fear of someone seeing them spurred Nolan to resist the urge to grab onto Lane and just go with it. He worked himself between Lane and the door and quickly unlocked the door, pushing it open. He grabbed Lane’s arm. “Come on,” he murmured anxiously and dragged him into the room, hurriedly closing the door and re-locking it.
Lane immediately pinned him to the door and crushed his mouth in a desperate, urgent kiss.
Fuck. Nolan clutched his shirt, helpless not to respond. His crotch instantly swelled up tight and painful as Lane pushed against him, the man’s cock straining his fly.
“Lane…” Nolan gasped shakily through their kiss. “You’re drunk. I-I don’t think this is really what you want.” Did he really believe that? Deep down—or maybe not so deep—didn’t he know that this was exactly what Lane wanted? Hadn’t Lane as much as admitted it to him when they were here in the bedroom earlier?
Pulling back, Lane released him and retreated a few paces on unsteady legs. He had yet to speak directly to Nolan and made his way to the bed, collapsing onto his back. Fresh tears drained out as he stared at the ceiling, fingers raking slowly through his hair. He sat forward a moment later and his head dropped into his hands as sporadic sobs hitched his body.
Nolan wanted to cry; all of this was the result of some dumb-ass bet that Nolan had been more than eager to accept and escalate. All because you wanted a piece of his ass. Well, you got it—happy now?
No, he wasn’t. Not even close. Lane was falling apart right before his eyes, his world crumbling down around him, and Nolan had played a huge part in bringing him to this moment of ruin.
“I’m sorry,” Nolan whispered with a swell of emotion. “I didn’t want this. Even when I thought you were a jerk, I didn’t want…this.” He bit his lip, his throat knotting. “I’m sorry, Lane. I’m really sorry.”
Lane raised his head, his eyes wet, bloodshot. “What do you mean when you thought I was a jerk? I am a jerk.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I was a jerk to you at the bar,” he mumbled and his head sagged down again, resting heavily in one hand.
Nolan shook his head. “No, you weren’t.” His hands flexed nervously. “I get it. This is not…you.” He hated the sound of those words and didn’t really believe them, but if it was what Lane needed to hear, then Nolan would say it. “One sexual encounter with another guy doesn’t turn you gay. It isn’t…” Nolan swallowed and his voice dropped. “It isn’t as if you were there because you wanted to be. Drew always says that no one can tell you who you are. Only you know. And I believe that.”
Looking up, Lane stared at him in despair. “Maybe I need someone to tell me,” he whispered. “Because all I see…is my dad. And I don’t want to be him.”
“You’re not.” Nolan went to him and kneeled before him. He hesitated then lightly grasped Lane’s wrists and slowly slipped his hands into Lane’s palms. Nolan touched his head to his brow. “You’re not him, Lane,” he insisted quietly. Another hesitation, then he kissed Lane softly on the lips.
Lane couldn’t think straight; couldn’t make sense of the emotions and desires coursing through his body, kicking his pulse up, slamming his heart against his ribs. He pushed into Nolan’s kiss with a desperation and need that scared the fuck out of him, but he couldn’t find the will to resist. His head felt clogged, incapable of rational thought. All he could compute was that he wanted Nolan, wanted to feel his naked body pressed up against him—buried inside him—fucking him until there was nothing left but the feel of their bodies thrusting and pumping, carrying him away from everything else.
His hands moved with a will of their own, peeling off Nolan’s shirt and then his own. Nolan climbed eagerly into his lap, his fingers shoving through Lane’s hair as he kissed him deep and strong with a rush of intoxicating passion and hunger. Lane scooted back on the bed, taking Nolan with him. “Fuck me…” he choked, his throat tight, as he reached between them and hurriedly unfastened his pants. “Fuck me, Nolan…now…”
Nolan slid off his lap and stripped him of his pants and briefs. Lane’s member throbbed and jumped—hard and thick—a steel rod leaking cum juice that trickled down his shaft. Nolan trembled, hands unsteady, as he worked open his pants, shoved the zipper down, then hesitated. “Lane…are you sure this is what you want?” he panted quietly. “You’re drunk…”
His hand rubbing down Nolan's hard stomach and between his legs, Lane squeezed the thick base of his shaft. “Just fuck me, Nolan,” he moaned, his vision watery. He didn’t know why the fuck the tears were still right there, seeping into his eyes, but he couldn’t stop them. “Please…”
Nolan shed his pants and crawled up between Lane’s legs, bringing back a flood of memories from earlier that evening. Lane gasped and clutched the blankets as his cock was suddenly pushing into Nolan’s throat and the young man’s soft, tender hands caressed up and down his stomach, his thighs, and around behind him, shoving beneath him to grip and squeeze his ass.
“Oh fuck…” Lane whimpered and lifted up. “Yes…” He gasped louder when Nolan slid a finger inside him and pumped him and sucked him until Lane wanted to scream. “Uuh! Fuck!” He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw, his fingers twisting through Nolan’s hair. “Oh my God…”
His body shook when Nolan finally pulled off him. He couldn’t open his eyes as his chest heaved and his hands slowly slid from Nolan’s soft strands. He was barely aware of the bed shifting as Nolan crawled off, then returned moments later. It wasn’t until he heard the light rip of the condom packet, then felt Nolan rolling the contraceptive down Lane’s cock did he finally open his eyes. Nolan applied lube to his sheathed shaft and his pulse kicked up, squeezing the air from his lungs; Nolan wanted Lane’s cock inside him? Lane wasn’t prepared for the sudden wave of emotion that crashed over him.
Nolan seized his stare, his eyes churning with a mix of warm emotions and burning desire. He crawled forward, straddling Lane’s body, and rubbed his hands up his chest. “In most of my fantasies,” he whispered against Lane’s mouth. “You were fucking me.” He caressed his neck and chest and kissed his lips. “I want you inside me.” He kissed him harder then sat up and reached behind him, grasped Lane’s slick cock and guided it between his ass cheeks.
His heart stuttering, Lane held his breath as Nolan pushed down on his hard dick, his tightness engulfing Lane’s thick cock-head. His breath burst out on a shaky, loud gasp as Nolan shuddered and shoved his ass further down Lane’s shaft.
“Oh my God!” Lane choked out, panting harder. He grabbed Nolan’s hips tensely. “Oh fuck…fuck…” His head dropped against the pillow and he swallowed thickly, hips lifting as he pushed up inside Nolan’s soft, snug hole. “Uuhh…shit…oh my God…you’re so fucking tight.” Light dizziness struck him, causing the room to swim, the ecstasy of the moment blowing his mind. He’d begun this day thinking there was nothing more disgusting and gross than two guys fucking. Now he knew—he could live right here, buried to the hilt in Nolan’s ass.
Oh God, please don’t let this be just a dream.
Shudders rippled through Nolan’s body as Lane filled him up, stretched him out. And this time around, Lane was here because he wanted to be here—not out of obligation to a bet. And later—when he’s sober—will he even remember this? And if he does…will he regret it? Nolan resisted the thoughts and thrust them to the far reaches of his mind, along with the needling guilt that he was taking advantage of Lane’s drunken state. The ecstasy on Lane’s face aided in banishing the negative thoughts. Right here, right now…Lane Cassiter was in heaven.
“I’m told I’m really good at this,” Nolan murmured and began to slowly roll his ass on Lane’s cock. They both shivered and Lane squeezed his hips, breath puffing through his nostrils as his eyes bore into Nolan’s face. Behind the lust and desire, hovered the Lane who felt safe and secure with Nolan. The Lane who had brought him back to Nolan’s bedroom tonight, desperate for one more taste of true freedom. It twisted up Nolan’s heart that he was the only one who could set the man free…and they both knew it.
“Fuck…” Lane gripped harder and lifted to Nolan’s rocking ass, thrusting slowly, sliding in and out.
“Oh God…” Nolan moaned and rotated his hips. He bit his lip and whimpered loud as Lane pushed in balls deep, grinding his sweet spot. “Uuh! Fuck…yes…”
Their rhythm picked up a little and Nolan leaned forward, his fingers digging into Lane’s heated chest muscles. He stared down into the skier’s aqua eyes and worked his ass skillfully on the man’s dick.
“Fuck, Nolan…” Lane swallowed hard, his face pinching. “You feel so fucking good.”
Nolan smiled and sank lower to kiss his mouth. “This is just the beginning, baby,” he whispered with a soft moan. “By the time I’m through with you…” he kissed Lane with warm passion. “…you’re going to be begging me to marry you.”
The look in Lane’s eyes relayed his uncontested belief in Nolan’s words.
Nolan straightened up then leaned back and grasped Lane’s knees. His head dropped back as he pumped his ass up and down Lane’s thick, solid cock…then gradually began to swivel his hips.
“Oh fuck…” Lane choked and his neck cords strained as his jaw clenched, breath surging. He fucked Nolan with mounting urgency. “Uuhh…God! Yeah, baby…fuck me…fuck me, Nolan!”
“Oh fuck!” Nolan gasped, his throat working, ass rocking. “Oh fuck yes! Uuhh—fuck me, Lane!”
Lane sat forward quickly and dragged Nolan into his arms, holding him tight, desperate, his face buried in his throat. His hot breath puffed hard against Nolan’s damp skin as the man’s arms squeezed around him. “Oh fuck, Nolan…fuck me…fuck me!” He choked on a sudden sob and crushed Nolan harder against him as they fucked each other in sheer desperation. “Don’t stop…” Lane pleaded thickly, panting faster as Nolan gyrated in his lap. “Uuh! Nolan! Fuck…yes…fuck me, baby!”
Clutching his damp hair, Nolan hugged his head, his lips pressed to his shoulder, hot breath pushing out. He squeezed his eyes shut, startled by the warm tears rolling down his cheeks. Stay with me, Lane, he begged silently as he fucked the man harder. Stay, and I’ll protect you and care for you and…love you.
© Copyright 2017 AMS1971. All rights reserved.
Book / Erotica
Book / Gay and Lesbian
Short Story / Gay and Lesbian