“Lots of things,” I said as I placed my hand on his thigh, rubbing him softly. “And I’m still learning what I want with other gay men. Still finding myself.”
Marco pulled his hand up and traced his finger across his lips. “What do you want now, Grayson?” He breathed the words, dripping with suggestion. “What do you want to do with me?”
“I want to pull those pants off of you,” I said, hitching my hips forward. “And get a look at you in that pink thing you’re wearing.”
Marco purred, and my chest tightened with pleasure. “Go ahead then,” he said, flipping over onto his stomach and arching his back. “No one’s stopping you.”
I wrapped my hands around the front of his jeans, then slide them down slowly. Marco wiggled his butt back and forth as the jeans came down, and I shuddered when the round, soft curves came into view, hugged perfectly by a small pair of pink briefs. They were the style made pretty much exclusively for gay men, and they clung to him perfectly.
My cock throbbed, and I pulled the jeans off the rest of the way. Marco turned back over to face me, and I saw the way his thick cock stretched the front of the briefs. “Go on then,” he teased.
I looked down at myself. “Oh, right.” I stood up. Marco was pointing his feet and posing carefully on the couch as he beamed up to me. Any sense of feeling bashful washed away.
I just wanted him to keep smiling like that.
For fucking ever, if possible.
I jerked my hips to one side, then the other, then flicked open the top of my pants. “Sexy man!” Marco cheered with awhoopnoise that made me laugh and almost blow my cool. Then I pushed my pants to the ground and managed to step out of them without any of the awkward hopping around.
Marco had probably picked out some special underwear for me, I realized with a thrill. Which wasn’t a surprise.
It’s not like I hadn’t thought about it, too.
Marco pulled me close and nuzzled his face against my briefs. It was just a plain gray pair, but they fit me perfectly, curving along the muscles of my ass, with a pocket that held my cock right.
“Sexy,” he whispered.
We kissed for a while, and then I wrestled Marco onto his stomach and traced my hand along his ass. I felt the fabric against his skin and stroked my finger along his crack.
When I passed his hole, he quivered, and my cock throbbed harder, new desires taking hold somewhere inside of me.
“I have an idea,” Marco said, flipping back around and tangling his long legs in mine.
“Yeah?”
“Some time when we all have a date together,” he said, “I’d really like it if you and Demir would fuck me. Would you be into that?”
Yearning surged through me. “Yeah, I really would.”
Marco pointed his toes against mine. “Great,” he said. “Maybe tonight, we can not worry about getting off and just explore?”
“Explore?” I asked.
“Massage each other. Talk.” He wiggled his toes. “Let me learn a little more about your body.”
I wiggled my toes back. “Yeah,” I said. “That sounds really nice, actually.”
“It will make it even more exciting,” he said with a wink.
“What will?”
Marco sat up a bit, then pushed his fingers through my hair. “When you fuck me,” he whispered in my ear.
I laughed, and we fell back into the couch together and did exactly that. We spent two hours exploring each other’s bodies, and drinking tea, and telling stories. Two hours with nothing else to distract us, just ourselves.
When I knew it was getting to the end of the date, I crawled off Marco, convinced I was going to orgasm just by looking at him at that point. We said our goodbyes, and I hurried home, my mind racing over the amazing date and my heart pumping with how connected I felt to each man.
When I got back to my apartment, I did something that surprised myself.You’re just love-drunk,I thought to myself.What are you doing?
But I didn’t care. I was thinking about family, and how there was always a chance for things to get better.
I was thinking about when we had the chance to make a better life, and the times we didn’t.
I picked up my phone, punched some numbers so familiar I didn’t even have to think them, and then listened through the same damn message that was on that machine a decade ago.
“Hi, Mom, hi, Dad,” I said. “This is your son. I’m just calling to say hello. Will you call me back? My number is…”
