Copyright 2103 JC Wallace
Owen wiped the sweat off his forehead and pressed the button again, and again, and again.
“Nothing,” he said, speaking into the headset. On
the computer screen, the little green elf stood motionless.
“Are you pressing the right key?” Drew asked and exhaled
noisily.
“I’m not an idiot, Drew. It’s not working.”
“Okay. Try control
R.”
Owen pressed the keys, and the elf dropped to the
ground, rolling around on his back. Owen burst out laughing.
“What happened? Did it work?” Drew asked way past
annoyed now.
Owen ignored Drew’s swearing and continued to snort
and cackle.
“You have the most annoying laugh ever. It’s so
funny,” Drew said dryly. “If I wasn’t five states away, I’d come and kick your
ass, McIntyre.”
Owen caught his breath. “Maybe you can send your
elf.” That brought on a new series of cackles.
“Damn it, Owen. I have to get this game to the
company in two weeks. Are you going to help me or not?”
Drew always got pissy when he was on a deadline.
Owen took a deep breath and reined it in.
“Sorry. Yeah, I can work on it. Give me a couple of
days. I’ve got a date tonight with a big bear. Tall, dark-skinned, feet the
size of...”
Drew made a gagging sound. “Please, spare me the
details.”
Owen grinned. He loved to yank Drew’s chain. “He’s
got a 1969 Mustang. Gonna bend him over the hood and—”
“For fuck’s sake, man, enough! I have nightmares
about what you do alone much less with other men.”
Owen couldn’t resist. “You think of me alone? Do you
wonder what I’m wearing?’ Owen suppressed the laugh dying to escape.
Drew huffed. “That’s just wrong. I’ve got to go.
Baby’s waking up. Two days, McIntyre.”
“Bite me, Crawford,” Owen said and pulled off the
headset.
Owen saved the code to work on later. Drew was a
good guy, just a little jumpy when it came to talking about gay sex. Owen
couldn’t blame him. One mention of vaginas and Owen wanted to scrub his mind.
Blah!
While he should work on the online game Drew was
developing, Owen’s mind was riveted on his upcoming date with Turk. Nervous heated
energy had been coursing through him ever since Turk had called last night and
asked him out. Need was bearing down on Owen like a car hurtling towards him. The
collision was unavoidable. Just thinking of Turk had Owen hard as steel. When
wasn’t he hard? Too long between fucks and his ability to control his thoughts
and reactions was near impossible. He’d hooked up with some anonymous guy at
the bar just before he’d moved, but damn if the burning heat wasn’t increasing,
creeping through him like a virus, raising his internal temperature.
His room was stifling and he flicked on the air
conditioner and ripped off his t-shirt. Sweat glistened across his skin. Stuffing
his hands down the front of his sweat pants, he grabbed his shaft and shuddered
as his palm wrapped around the sensitive skin. He had to take care of this
before his date with Turk. Nothing said desperate like your dick trying to
fight its way out of your pants.
Owen walked over and locked his bedroom door. From
the trunk at the end of his bed, he pulled out a box and opened it, removing
the veiny, flesh-colored dildo. He snorted as he remembered Wayne’s reaction to
finding the realistic looking toy. “You got some guy’s dick in a box. Where’s
the rest of him?”
Clearing his mind of Wayne, Owen pushed his sweats
and briefs to his ankles. Lubing up the dildo, he climbed onto the bed and
rested on his knees. He pressed the head of the cock against his hole. Bearing
down, he relaxed the muscle and hissed at the burn as he pushed against the
resistance of his tight hole. Once it was seated, he grabbed his cock with his
other hand as visions of nailing that ebony body fueled his heat. Pulling long
and hard on his shaft, he twisted his fist over the sensitive head. His cock wasn’t
long, but was thick and hard for some guys to take. While he loved ass play and
using the dildo, he didn’t bottom. Never had and never wanted to which was a
surprise to most guys. He was short and skinny and most guys mistook that to
mean bottom material. Some of the best bottoms he’d ever had were large butch
men who had begged for his cock. Begged for it harder and faster and fuck...Visions
of Turk on his back, legs thrown over Owen’s shoulders, head thrown back, babbling,
more and harder and oh, my God
were more than Owen could stand as his hand flew over his shaft. Yeah, Turk, take my cock. Heat pooled in
his groin. The muscles in his ass clenched tight, and his breath caught as the
first shot of cum spurted over his hand. A long slow groan escaped as he
continued to pump milky streams. He stroked and pulled until the nerves in his cock
screamed for relied and he shuddered. Gratefully, his shaft started to deflate.
Rolling to the side, he flopped onto the bed, chest
heaving and hole spasming around the hard dick inside of him. He reveled in the
endorphins that followed the climax, flying on the rush. His blissed out
reactions were similar to a drug induced high, lasting long after he’d come.
Most every guy he’d fucked had commented on his post-coital dazed and confused
state. Apparently, not everyone had the same reaction to their orgasms. Sucked
to be them.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d lain in his drowsy
state when his cell phone rang. Reaching down he fumbled in his pants, which
were still around his ankles. Pulling the phone from his pocket, he squinted at
the screen. His mom. He silenced the phone. He so didn’t want to talk to his
mother with a dildo up his ass.
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