He Completes Me
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by Cardeno C.
Category: Erotica/Gay-Lesbian Erotica/Romance
Description: Not even his mother's funeral can convince self-proclaimed party boy Zach Johnson to put aside his flamboyant ways or even think about settling down. He is who he is, and no one can make him change. But when he meets Aaron Paulson, his brother's best friend, Zach has to step back and re-evaluate his perceptions of love and family. Aaron insists he's falling for Zach, but Zach is certain Aaron sees him as just another project--one more lost soul for the idealistic Aaron to save. Zach isn't broken; he doesn't need to be fixed. Aaron's insistent, though, and Zach finds himself tempted. Zach wants to believe in happily-ever-after, but can he let go of his pride long enough to see Aaron's heart?
eBook Publisher: Dreamspinner Press/Dreamspinner Press, 2011 2011
eBookwise Release Date: May 2011
49 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [384 KB]
Reading time: 264-370 min.
"Come on, Zach. This is going a little overboard, even for you."
My friend, Luke, was sitting on a closed toilet lid, watching me apply eyeliner. I held the pencil back and looked over at him.
"What? I am who I am. I'm not going to change for them. I told them that when I left, and there's no fucking way I'm going to change now."
Luke sighed and put his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees.
"I know, Zach. I'm not telling you to change. I'd never do that. But this isn't a club opening, it's a funeral." He paused, looked me up and down, and then repeated himself with more emphasis. "It's your mother's funeral."
I shrugged and finished my eyeliner. I knew he was right, of course. The look I was going for here wasn't just a little overboard--a skin-tight, pink tank top, and white pants that weren't any looser. I'd also gotten my brown hair frosted for the occasion. Frankly, I didn't like it. I preferred the natural color. But I knew it would help complete the picture.
I was driven out of my family for being gay, and I was going to make damn sure they didn't think they had succeeded in causing me to question myself or to hate who I am. I was going to walk in there confident and proud--and as gay-looking as I could possibly make myself. That way, there could be no question in their minds that I was living my life on my terms. And that I wasn't ashamed, even if they were.
Luke gave up on talking to me about my appearance, realizing it was a hopeless cause. We had been friends since high school, and he knew me pretty well. I'd moved away after graduation and then stayed away. There was really nothing for me back here. My family had pretty much disowned me when they found out I was gay, and I hadn't had a lot of friends growing up. I stayed in touch with Luke and a couple of other people that mattered in my life, and that was good enough.
"So, I'm sorry that you can't stay here. It's just that with Chris and me both living in this six hundred square foot studio, there really isn't any room for guests. Next time you're in town, I'm sure we'll be in a bigger place, and then you can crash with us as long as you want."
I finished applying the eyeliner, put some slightly shiny gloss on my lips and grooming clay in my hair, and then turned back to Luke. From the look on his face, I could tell that he didn't approve. But he was done trying to talk some sense into me. Smart guy.
"Don't worry about it. I should stay with Dean anyway. When he called to tell me our mother had died and begged me to come to her funeral, I told him that I'd see what I could do. Of course that meant thanks, but no thanks. But then he pulled out the nephew card and reminded me that I haven't met his kids. Since I plan on leaving tomorrow, staying at his place is about the only way I can spend any time with them."
I picked up my toiletry bag, walked out of the bathroom and over to Luke's couch, where I'd put my bag when we walked in. He had picked me up at the airport and agreed to let me change at his place before dropping me off at my brother's house, where I'd be joining the rest of his family for the drive over to the mortuary. After I put the toiletry bag away, I turned to Luke.
"Not that I know shit about kids anyway, but Dean was practically crying on the phone, asking me to come and telling me that they have plenty of room to put me up. I'm actually surprised he doesn't mind exposing his faggot brother to his children because, as you know, all gay men are pedophiles."
"Jesus, Zach. Did he actually say that to you?"
I thought back to my conversations with Dean over the years. There really hadn't been many, so it didn't take long to go through the catalog in my mind. I shrugged.
"Well, no. Not directly. But I heard variations of that theme from my stepfather, my mother, her parents, etc., etc., etc." I waved my hand as I spoke. "Dean was out of the house by then, so he didn't have the chance to jump on the bandwagon." I picked up my bag and opened the door. "But if I'm really fucking lucky, maybe he'll get his two cents in tonight. I think he at least has the manners to wait until after the funeral. Come on. We need to get going. I can't wait for the fun to start!"
I walked down the stairs and tried to calm my nerves. I was quiet on the drive over, reminding myself in my head that I was a grown man. They didn't control my life, and there was nothing that they could do to hurt me, not anymore. The last part wasn't completely true, of course, but I kept repeating it to myself anyway. I'd been telling myself that same thing for years.
"All right, Zach. We're here. How's that for door-to-door service?"
I looked up at the pretty Tudor-style house. There were flowers planted in window boxes and pots, a green lawn, toys on the front porch, and a white picket fence. I felt like I'd just arrived at a Norman Rockwell painting.
That was typical of my brother. Mister Perfect. He was a jock and a good student in high school. Then he went off to college, got his doctorate in English, married a pretty blond cheerleader-type, had three kids, and moved back to teach at the local college.
I knew all of this from the e-mails Dean had sent over the years, and from the very brief, very sporadic telephone calls. I have a rule where I force myself to return at least ten percent of his calls. Seriously, what the fuck do we have to say to each other? The ten percent is painful enough.
Dean is six years older than me, and it wasn't all that long after he moved away that my family wrote me off. Oh, they let me stay in the house, fed me, clothed me. Basically did what they were legally obligated to do, along with some shit that was definitely not legal. But I wouldn't let myself think about that, not anymore.
"Thanks for the ride, Luke. I'm glad I got to see you. I'm sorry that I didn't get a chance to meet Chris. He sounds great, and I'm happy you met someone."
I didn't really mean that. I don't believe in relationships. Fuck buddies, yes. But open relationships never work, and monogamy is just not a natural life, as far as I'm concerned. Why limit yourself to one guy? Variety is the spice of life, after all.
"Well, you can meet him next time you're here."
I raised my eyebrows at him in a look that clearly said that was never going to happen. Not because I didn't want to meet Chris, but because I was never fucking coming back. I was actually considering asking him to drive me to the airport right then, but my brother's door flew open, and he came running out to greet me.
"Zach! I'm so glad you're here. Thank you for coming." He took me into his arms and hugged me tightly. "Where are your bags? I'll carry them in for you."
I pointed to the bag on the backseat.
He furrowed his brows. "That... that's it? Just the one bag?"
I could hear the disappointment in his voice. What was that about? Did he expect me to bring a bunch of gifts for his kids? I wasn't even sure how old they were. Actually, I was standing there trying to remember their names.
Dean picked up the bag, slung it over his shoulder, and held his hand out to Luke. "Luke, right? I'm Dean Johnson, Zach's brother. Thanks for getting him from the airport. I offered to pick him up but--"
"No problem, Dean. It's nice to meet you. Call me later, Zach."
And with that, my friend drove away and left me at the gates of hell, deceptively decorated to look like a Martha Stewart magazine.
* * * *
"Kimberly is really excited to finally meet you, Zach." My brother, Dean, put his arm over my shoulder and walked me to the door. "So are the boys. Simon has been telling all his friends at school that his Uncle Zach is coming to see him."
Yeah, right. Like the kid gives a shit about me coming. Or, for that matter, like the kid even knows who I am. Oh well. At least now I remember that the oldest one is named Simon. We walked into the house, and I was greeted by an overly enthusiastic blond fireball. I think she practically wrapped her legs around me as she hugged me. On the plus side, she was so short that I actually felt tall for the first time in my life.
My brother is almost six feet tall, like my dad was. But I got the genes from my mother's side of the family, so I barely clear five and a half feet. I'm also really thin, which adds to the whole "little guy" picture. I spend a good bit of time swimming and running, so I have defined muscles. And I eat constantly, but I just can't seem to put on any bulk.
"Kim, I'm going to put Zach's bag in his room. Do you want to see if he wants a drink before we head out?"
She nodded and turned to me with a smile, taking my hand in hers and leading me to the kitchen. "What can I get you, Zach? We have regular soda, diet soda, iced tea, juice, and milk. Or would you rather change first?"
I immediately dropped her hand and stiffened.
"Why would I change? Is there a problem with my clothes?"
Okay, my reaction and the rude tone of my voice weren't really fair. I didn't know Kimberly, and she seemed perfectly nice, if a bit too peppy. Still, I was all geared up for a fight. And I wasn't going to back down.
Her face flushed, the red color creeping up her cheeks. "Oh! No, of course there's nothing wrong with your clothes. I, ummm, I just.... What did you say you wanted to drink?"
I was about to ask for a diet soda, but then we walked into the kitchen, and I felt like all the air left my body, and my mouth went dry. There, sitting at the kitchen table, was a man who literally took my breath away. His hair was dirty blond and his eyes a warm shade of blue. His shoulders were very broad, and I could see the muscles in his chest were well-defined under his T-shirt. I couldn't tell how tall he was, because he was sitting with a baby in his lap while feeding another baby in a highchair.
Just when I was about to get myself under control and regain the power of speech and the ability to breathe, he stood up, and I froze. He was probably a little taller than my brother. The broad shoulders and defined chest led down to a flat stomach, narrow hips, and long legs. And as he shifted the baby onto his hip, his arm pushed against his chinos, tightening them and showing what looked to be a really nice-sized cock.
"You must be the famous Zach. It's really great to finally meet you. I'm Aaron."
He held his free hand out to me, looked down into my eyes, and spoke with a voice that was deep, smooth, and warm. As if this trip wasn't going to be difficult enough, now I had to try to keep my dick from getting hard in my too-tight white pants.
Awww, shit! I don't do straight guys. Well, obviously, I don't "do" straight guys. What I mean is, I don't go after straight guys or even fantasize about straight guys. It's stupid and self-defeating. I can't tell you how many friends I've mocked over the years for their ridiculous straight-boy crushes.
Aaron was sort of grinning at me, with a funny look in his eyes. Suddenly I realized that I'd taken his hand, but instead of shaking it, I was holding it in-between both of my hands and running my thumb over the top.
I dropped his hand like it was made of fire and felt my face getting hot. What the fuck was wrong with me? I'd never had anything close to a reaction like that to any other guy. And I had to start in my brother's Leave It to Beaver kitchen with one of his jock buddies? Fabulous. Well, at least he wasn't kicking my ass.
I still hadn't managed to put two words together when Kimberly came back with a regular soda in one hand, a diet soda in the other. I reached for the diet, opened it, and chugged it down, hoping that somehow caffeine would calm my nerves. Yeah, right. Seriously, what the fuck was wrong with me?
My brother came back into the kitchen, looking a little stressed. "Okay, guys, let's get going. Aaron, thanks for watching the boys. Simon is still down for his nap, but he should be up soon. He might be hungry, so...."
Kimberly put her hand on Dean's arm. "Are you telling Aaron how to take care of Simon?" She laughed and turned to me. "Aaron spends as much time with our boys as your brother." Then Kimberly kissed Aaron. "Thanks, sweetie. I need to go freshen my makeup, and then we're going to leave. I know you have plans tonight. What time do we need to be back?"
Aaron smiled back at her. "I'll be fine, Kimmy. You come back whenever things are done. Don't hurry. You know I love being with the boys. And I can always skip the meeting tonight. It's not a big deal."
She nodded and walked away.
"Ready to go, Zach?" my brother asked.
I think I managed to nod my head. I'm not sure, though, because it was taking all of my energy to pull my eyes away from Aaron. He helped by walking toward the door where my brother was standing. He took his one empty hand, the other was still holding onto my nephew, and wrapped it around the back of Dean's neck and looked him in the eyes.
"Are you okay, man? I know this has to be hard." His voice was low, and there was real concern in his eyes.
Dean nodded and gave Aaron a tight hug. "I'm good, Aaron. I just need to get through this, and then things will calm down."
They both started laughing at that point, and then Aaron rubbed Dean's arm as he responded. "You've been saying a variation of that for the past couple of years. Let's hope it's true this time."
I'd never seen straight guys relate to each other that way. It was affectionate and warm. I was pretty sure that Aaron was the cause. There was something about him that just exuded kindness and comfort. I had an uncharacteristic desire to press up against him, not for sex--that would be typical for me--but for the warmth and safety that I intuitively knew he could give me.
My brother left the kitchen, and I was trailing behind him when I heard Aaron's deep voice again. "It was nice talking with you, Zach."
I blushed when I realized that the entire time we were in the kitchen, I hadn't managed to say a single word. He laughed and patted my back. The laugh wasn't mocking; it was friendly and familiar, and it gave me goose bumps.
* * * *
I thought about Aaron throughout most of the funeral: his eyes, the sound of his voice, his body, the warmth that somehow poured out of him. Those thoughts comforted me through most of the afternoon.
Not one family member spoke to me, which wasn't a surprise. And Dean stayed glued to my side, which was a surprise. It was getting more and more difficult for me to stay there, surrounded by people who I once thought loved me--that is until they found out who I really am. Then, just when things were wrapping up, and I was feeling pretty proud of having made it through that nightmare, Dean stepped away to talk with some people I didn't recognize.
Within a few seconds, my uncle walked up and glared at me as he hissed in a quiet voice, "You have some nerve showing up here, Zach. You were an embarrassment to your mother, and you're a disgrace to this family. No one wants you here. Are you too stupid to realize that?"
I'd prepared myself for big speeches and bravado, if they talked down to me. I was going to laugh in their faces or tell them off. But when the time came, I couldn't say a thing. Instead, I froze and just stood there, trying to hold back the tears that I could feel forming in my eyes. My uncle opened his mouth to say something else, but then he looked over my shoulder, stopped, and walked away. Suddenly, Dean was back at my side with his hand on my back.
"Is everything okay, Zach?"
No, everything wasn't fucking okay. Why in the hell did he make me come back here? I didn't need that shit. I had my own life, and these people weren't a part of it. They were history, and that's where they needed to stay.
"I'm fucking dandy. Can we get the hell out of here now?"
I stormed out of the mortuary and over to Dean's car. The doors were locked, so I couldn't get in. But I stood by the door and waited, my arms crossed over my chest and a scowl decorating my face. After a few minutes, Dean and Kimberly walked out, their faces looking strained. Dean unlocked the car, and we all got in. I don't think any of us said a word during the drive back to their house.
When Dean pulled up in his driveway, I opened my door and stepped out before the car had even come to a complete stop. I picked up my phone and dialed Luke's number as I walked into the house. As soon as he answered, I started talking.
"I need to get drunk and get laid. Come get me. We're going out."
I ended the call and looked up to see Aaron standing in front of me and Kimberly and Dean a bit behind me and to my side. Okay, well that was probably too loud and a little TMI for this crowd, but whatever. After an awkward silence, Dean walked up to me and spoke quietly.
"I, umm, well, we were hoping for us all to have a family dinner together tonight. Aaron can't join us, but Simon has really been looking forward to getting to know you, and even though Chad and Ryan are still so small, I just know that they'd love to spend time with their uncle."
Since when did my brother's buddy become part of the family? Well, he was there more than me, so I guess I really didn't have much room to talk. Chad and Ryan, those must be the babies. Okay, now I knew all the names. I still wasn't sticking around.
"Yeah, listen, Dean, I'm going to go out. This just isn't my scene, you know? I know it's like straight guy paradise around here, but I just need to get some cock."
Kimberly's mouth dropped open at that point. Dean just looked at me, clearly not knowing what to say. And Aaron... well, Aaron gazed into my eyes with an expression that somehow looked concerned, yet understanding. Damn, that boy had great eyes. And his hair looked so soft; I wanted to run my fingers through it. Jesus! I needed to get a grip.
"Dean, where's my bag? I need to get ready."
I was looking at Aaron as I spoke, because I just couldn't seem to find a way not to stare at the guy whenever he was in the room. I was past being embarrassed by it at that point, and I'd moved on to being disgusted with myself. It's hormones, I told myself; he was simply the only adult male who I wasn't related to in the house. And he was incredibly gorgeous. Damn! No, not the last reason.
"I'll show him the room, Dean. It's this way, Zach."
Aaron put his arm around me and directed me down the hallway. He felt strong and warm. I recognized that I was pressing myself too closely against him, but I just couldn't force my body to pull away. We walked down the hallway, and Aaron opened the door at the end. I thought that he'd walk back to my brother, but instead he followed me into the room, closed the door, and sat on the bed.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Normally, I would've made a flippant remark, pretending nothing was wrong, or been outwardly hostile. But he was looking into my eyes, no, he was looking through my eyes. It felt like he could see me, really see me. That should sound frightening, but it wasn't. It felt good. And, suddenly, the words started tumbling out.
"They hate me. I mean, they really hate me. I've never done anything to them. I haven't even seen or spoken to them in ten years. And they're my family. They're supposed to love me, right? But they don't. They never have, and they never will. The dumb fucking thing is, I still let this shit hurt me. I thought I was past all of this."
You know, how sometimes when you're hurt or upset, you're able to hold it together until someone is nice to you, and then you just lose it? Well, that's what happened. Aaron didn't even say anything. He just gazed at me in a way that no one else ever had. I wasn't sure what to make of it. It seemed so intimate, so... loving. And the next thing I knew, I was bawling, and Aaron's arms were around me. I'm not sure how long I was wrapped in Aaron's arms, crying my eyes out, but I managed to fall asleep.
When I woke up, we were both lying on the bed. I was on top of Aaron, with my face on his chest. His shirt was damp from my tears and smudged with my eyeliner. He was rubbing my back with one hand and stroking my hair with the other. I felt safe. For what I'm pretty sure was the first time in my life, I felt safe. And that scared the ever-living shit out of me.
I shot up off of his body and jumped off the bed.
"I'm sorry. I, ummm, I...."
I didn't know how to finish my sentence or even what I was planning to say. And then I heard the doorbell.
"That's Luke. I have to go. Thanks."
I was out of there before Aaron could respond. I practically ran out to the living room and to the front door. I had one foot out before Dean managed to make it into the entryway.
He started pleading with me. "Zach. Zach, please wait a second."
But I couldn't wait. I couldn't stay in that house any longer. It wasn't even about the funeral anymore or my family. It was about Aaron. I couldn't be around the guy. He did something to me, something wonderful and meaningful. For the first time in my life, I wanted a guy in a way that wasn't sexual. Well, I wanted that, too, but it wasn't only sexual. And because I can't seem to catch a single fucking break, that guy had to be my brother's straight friend.
I ran out the door and pulled Luke toward his car.
"Slow down, Zach. Where's the damn fire?"
There was a guy in the driver's seat. I figured that was Chris, so I got in the back, leaving shotgun for Luke. Then I put on my best smile and used my most upbeat voice.
"Alright, boys, are you ready to party?"
Chris drove us to a gay bar that they liked. We got drinks at the bar and sat down at a table. A couple of hours and a couple of drinks later, I still wasn't in the mood to troll. I was sitting across from Luke and Chris, who were sickeningly lovey-dovey, and having my own nauseating thoughts about Aaron. How warm his body had felt against mine, how much I enjoyed having his arms around me, what it would be like to wake up like that every morning. I was actually disgusting myself so much that throwing up wasn't out of the question.
When did I become this pathetic, sappy schmuck who obsessed about unavailable straight guys? Hell, when did I become a guy who obsessed about anybody? That just wasn't me. I am, well, for lack of a better word, a big fucking slut. Sorry folks, that's how it is. I sleep around, and I'm not ashamed of it. No, that's not accurate. There really isn't any sleeping involved. There's just sex. Lots of sex. Mostly blowjobs, although there's fucking, too, usually on the receiving end.
I've never had any trouble finding willing partners. I'm not a bad-looking guy, I stay in shape, and I'm easy. What's not to like, right? But there I sat, in a bar full of available men, and all I could do was think about the one who wasn't available. And to make matters worse, not all of my thoughts were dirty. I actually found myself thinking of how nice he was to me, how caring he was to my brother, how sweet he was to my nephews. And then, when I thought I couldn't get any more pathetic, I actually saw him on the other side of the bar.
I thought back to how much I'd been drinking. I was sure that I'd only had two martinis. That's nothing for me. I don't weigh much, but I've been able to build up a decent alcohol tolerance over the years. I've had lots of practice. So, it couldn't be the gin making me see things.
I rubbed my eyes, but he was still there. What was this shit? Had my brother sent his lackey to follow me? I didn't care how hot the guy was, that pissed me off.
"Excuse me, guys. I see someone I know."
I got up and walked across the bar until I was standing behind Aaron. Then I tapped him on the shoulder, ready to wail into him. But when he turned around, I lost my resolve. He looked so surprised and so... happy to see me.
"Zach! You're here."
Then he hugged me. Tightly. And for a long time. I pushed him away when I started getting hard and, as a result, embarrassed. Damn it! Why should I be embarrassed?
"What are you doing here, Aaron? Did my brother send you to follow me?"
He looked confused.
"What? No, of course not."
He's a good actor. I'll give him that.
"Umm, hmmm. So what are you doing here?"
He smiled that warm, caring smile and threw in just a bit of mischief. I'd never met anyone with such an expressive smile.
"Well, I'm here for a drink. It's a bar."
Then he held up his glass.
"No shit. What I mean is, if my brother didn't send you, what's mister-straight-jock-boy doing in a gay bar? You have looked around and noticed that there are no women here, right? And that half of these guys are all over each other. No, don't tell me. You just happened to wander in here off the street by mistake, and I just happened to be here with my friends."
Aaron looked truly shocked, and then he started laughing.
"Wait, am I the mister-straight-jock-boy in your rant? You... you think I'm straight?"
What? I stood there, processing this latest turn of events. I have great gaydar. It's how I'd always been able to stay away from straight boys and how I found it unbelievably easy to find the next guy to suck or fuck. This guy was definitely straight.
"Save it, Aaron. We know. We can tell when other guys are gay. So what are you doing here?"
He was no longer laughing, but his eyes still twinkled a bit.
"We? And who is the 'we' that you're describing? You might want to tell 'we' that he's off this time. I'm gay. Completely gay. As in, not straight. But the jock-boy part is true, so I guess you're not totally off."
Okay, two could play at this game. I leaned back against the bar and crossed my arms.
"How do you want me to prove it, Zach? I left my membership card at home, and I forgot the secret handshake."
I took his arm and started pulling him toward the bathroom.
"Let's go, tough guy."
"Where are we going?"
"Somewhere a little more private."
Thankfully, that bar wasn't very big, and it had separate bathrooms. I opened the door to one, pulled a surprised looking Aaron in behind me, and locked the door.
"What now, Zach?"
I started unbuttoning and unzipping my pants.
"Now you prove it, gay boy."
His eyes suddenly lost their sparkle, and he looked sad. I almost felt sorry for him. He was probably just doing a favor for my brother by following me around, and when he got caught, he used the first excuse that came to mind. I decided that I wouldn't give him a hard time when he bolted for the door.
But he didn't try to leave. He raised his hand and softly stroked my cheek.
"Not like this, Zach. Please, not like this. Our first time together shouldn't be in the bathroom of a bar."
His voice was, once again, loving, and he was gazing into my eyes, making me feel the warmth that he exuded. And I realized that I'd somehow developed feelings for this guy. Deep feelings. In the course of one day, I felt more for him than I did for any other person in my life. My entire body tingled, I had goose bumps, and I was holding back tears.
How dare he fuck around with my emotions that way? Talking about a first time, like there would be other times. This might be some joke for him, a story he could go back and tell my brother about, how he talked his way out of the bar by playing on my feelings. But to me, it was real. It was the most real thing I'd ever felt.
"That's what I thought. You're playing some game with me," I told him in a quiet voice as I reached for the door.
"No." He put his hand on the door, so that I couldn't open it. "I'm not playing a game with you, Zach."
I turned back to him, and he moved his hand off the door and cupped the back of my head, pulling me toward him as he bent his head down to me. I stiffened.
"I don't kiss."
He didn't move away, but he stopped and looked at me.
"I don't kiss."
"Zach, you pulled me in here and opened your pants. Unless I'm missing something, you're asking me to put your dick in my mouth. But a kiss is off limits?"
Well, when he put it that way, it did sound silly. But the thing is, kisses are intimate. Blowjobs are, well, they're blowjobs. They're a way to get off that usually feels better than my hand. At least if the guy has a decent technique. It's not like I'm the only one who feels that way. Most guys don't even try to kiss me when we're fucking. And those that try don't question me when I turn away or say no.
"Yeah, that's what I'm saying."
Aaron pressed me back against the door and put a hand on each side of my face.
"You've watched too many silly shows or movies. I'm going to kiss you, Zach. On the mouth. And then I'll give you your proof."
As he slowly moved his face down toward mine, I realized that I wanted that kiss. I wanted to feel his lips against me. With Aaron, I wanted the intimacy that I'd always carefully avoided.
His lips pressed on mine, warm, soft, and gentle. He mouthed my lower lip between both of his as he stroked my face with his thumbs. I sighed and relaxed against him. Then I felt his tongue on my lower lip, my upper lip, and running in the crease of my lips, seeking entry. I opened my mouth to him, and his tongue was in me, licking my tongue, exploring my mouth. I instinctively sucked on his tongue, and that made me moan. All too soon, he pulled his mouth back, looked into my glazed eyes, and dropped to his knees.