Stand Up ComicbyCinner©
The night is cold; the scattered stars highlight only the unfathomable depth of the Heavens. The full moon glows remotely in the eastern sky, and is concealed, then revealed, then concealed, then finally revealed again, by sluggish, grey clouds. Indiscernible leaves shake quietly in the draught. The whisper of their constant rustling is punctuated by the shrill cry, and answering response, of two croaking lizards. Sun-dried trees glow faintly, copper in the moonlight against the matte-black hills looming in the near distance.
The sounds of the night ebb, and flow. Islands of expectant quiet, when Nature seems poised, waiting for the next sign, meld into soft affirmations of life. The muted whispering of wings spread in flight signals the passing of a solitary owl. The continual rustle of invisible crickets and the lonely whistle of a hidden toad, mask imaginary footfalls. Half-forgotten stories of ghouls, are suddenly remembered and embellished with variations on the theme often heard in the evening news. A mosquito whines, stridently, inviting its mate to dine. A distant dog howls. Another dog, close by, growls; two others bark. Everything coupled, everything paired, everything as it should be. A sand-fly feasts hungrily on human flesh; an answering slap; nature, at war with civilisation.
The azure sea-scape on the face-plate of a mobile phone blazes; signalling a summons. It is the fifth for the evening.
"This is Michael. I'm sorry I'm not able to answer your call just now, but if you leave your name and a brief message, I'll get back to you as soon as possible..."
"Where the hell are you Michael? I have been waiting here for over an hour-and-a-half...I am sick of this! I am sick of you! Why don't you learn to answer your fucking cell phone? You're supposed to be an intelligent man...You know something, let's not bother with this anymore... you've wasted enough of my time... I won't die without you, Michael; so just sod off..."
And all the while a garden water-feature plays merrily with carefully-placed sculpted stones nearby. The occasional shiny SUV speeds its way along the nearly deserted street; homeward bound. Sporadic laughter, the loud moans of a newly-wed couple locked in a passionate embrace, and distant television sets blare the fact that their owners have some semblance of a life.
Meanwhile, across town, in a comfortable penthouse apartment overlooking New Kingston, Michael lies in his bed, snuggling with a companion, in the spot where the woman had hoped to be. He knows that it will be futile to tell her that he has made a choice at last, and that she is not going to be it. They both know that the woman is pretty, and that she is a perfect lover. They both know that most men would want to be with her; that she will land on her feet, but that she is not really his type; too whining, she is.
He likes strong, independent women, who stand on their own two feet, who insist on making life for themselves without the help of the men who come by. He likes women who can stand toe-to-toe with the boys in the boardroom, who play tennis and golf, who like to watch football, who are not afraid of lizards or heights. She is none of those things.
He likes women who don't roll their eyes if he cracks one little dirty joke; who have no problem with swearing a good one if the car tyre blows out in the middle of the night, during the rain while on the drive home after a night out with friends. He likes women who keep themselves in good shape and who are healthy, without being too prissy about it. The woman on the other end of the line is very prissy.
She nags, and bitches about other people. She likes to speculate about other people's sexuality. She expects him to pick up the tab all the time, and she doesn't ever return the favour. She doesn't cook, ever, or want to have children. He has even seen her be unkind to the security guard at the gate of his office! He had to reminded her that the man was just doing his job when he asked her to whom she had come. He had to remind her that it was for this reason that he was paying him.
Most of all, he really does not like women who cheat on their husbands. There is something wrong about that. He has come to that conclusion after two wives have caused him to have to start over again in life. The damn Jamaican laws say that the spouse gets half of everything after five years of marriage regardless of who cheats! He is not about to let that happen to him again! If the woman on the other end of the line would cheat on her current husband with him then it is conceivable that she would cheat on him too, he reasons. He will just stick to the old boys' club from now on. Way more to his liking anyway if he's honest with himself.
And this was why it is that Michael does not want to be with her anymore. He has made a choice. He has chosen her husband, Aaron.
The man stirs in bed next to him. He has been asleep for the past hour, after their last fuck. Michael smiles at him; welcoming him back into his arms.
"What's the matter, Mike?" Aaron says, stretching.
"Nothing really, your wife keeps calling."
"For me?" Aaron says glancing at his mobile.
"No, for me."
The two men giggle! It has always amused them that even married women keep making passes at Michael, but that they are the only people who know that his lust sizzles only for his best friend and business partner. It always has, since they were college roommates; two Jamaican men alone amid a sea of strangers in a foreign land. Michael's two wives and his numerous affairs when he isn't actually married, and Aaron's marriage, have been their cover for years.
"It's time for me to go," Aaron sighs, reluctantly, getting up and leaning in to kiss him.
"Naw man! It's still early. I need you one more time before you go. Think you can manage it?" He strokes Aaron's arm. God the man is beautiful!
"For you? Anything!" Aaron smirks.
Michael reaches for Aaron and kisses the man deeply. His cock hardens as he tastes the man's mouth. He pulls away and bites Aaron's lip and his chin, and when the man moves his head and exposes his neck, Michael attacks that as well. Aaron pushes him away. He is always reminding Michael not to leave marks where anyone else can see them. Kisses and licks would have been enough there. Michael's hands trail down his skin and he grabs Aaron's hands, holding both in one of his own. Aaron does not resist him, he knows what is going to happen next. Michael pushes him back on his back and holds him down, his hands above his head and sucks a nipple deeply. Aaron's body arches deliciously into his, and Michael grinds down, rubbing his erect cock on Aaron's. Aaron's groan is music to his ears and he keeps torturing the man in this way.
"Please," Aaron groans, eventually.
Michael reaches one-handed for the lube that he had left on the night stand after their first two times together this evening. He releases his lover and hands the bottle to Aaron, wordlessly. Aaron looks into his eyes and smiles. He knows that as hungry as he is for him, Michael will not beg. He warms the gel in his hand, and reaches for Michael's turgid cock. He greases the man's pole slowly, torturing him with the wait. It is something that they have done since they first met: he makes Michael wait, and then Michael tops him; fucking him until they both cum. It has always been this way, but it has never got old; they are both still happy with this arrangement.
Michael is tired of waiting tonight though. The pretence of an affair with Aaron's wife has worn him down. Whenever he looks at her he thinks of Aaron, and must somehow control himself. He flips Aaron over and straddles him. He grabs the lube to slick the crevice between the man's butt cheeks himself. He has always liked to see Aaron do this for him, but not tonight. Michael drives a finger into Aaron's hole and rotates it slowly, simultaneously relaxing and exciting him.
"Yes," Aaron tells him when it is time for the second finger.
Michael gives it to him, but adds a third before Aaron is quite ready.
"You're eager tonight, aren't you?" Aaron chuckles.
"Shut up!" Michael growls, slapping a butt cheek lightly.
"Oooh!" Aaron coos, inviting more; but that is not what Michael wants tonight.
He bends over, and kisses Aaron's back, all the way up along his spine. He lies on top of his friend and nestles his cock into the crack of the man's ass. He would love to spend the rest of the night there lying just like that, but this is impossible. He sighs. He gets up and finishes stretching Aaron's sphincter muscles. He places the head of his cock at the pulsing hole and pushes in when he cannot stand to see that hole winking at him any longer.
Aaron groans and Michael eases further into his body. Michael groans. He settles, feeling Aaron constrict around him. It feels so good that he forgets that he has to move until Aaron wiggles his butt for him, giving him a fun little ride; a playful threat that he will dislodge him if he doesn't do something soon. Michael grins down at Aaron's back and begins to see-saw in and out of the man's body. Sometimes he's slow and deliberate, and strokes Aaron's skin, planting memories that will hold him until they meet like this again; at other times his rhythm is steady and all he wants to do is to hold Aaron down so that he can go harder and faster and deeper. Aaron says nothing, but from his groans, Michael knows that he is enjoying himself either way.
There are times when Michael is angry with Aaron. He has asked him to just pack up and come away with him so that they can be together. Aaron has always refused. Michael wonders if he is making him wait, just as he does every time they fuck. He wonders what Aaron would do if he tried to force his hand. He will not beg, but what are the equivalents of topping a man in his social and professional lives? Until Aaron married he was one of the most eligible bachelors in Jamaica. Michael has become that again since his second divorce.
Michael pushes into Aaron's body again. He is determined to nail him to the bed with his cock. He fucks him hard, as if he wants to wrench his own back, until they both cum. It's their third time tonight, but the hunger is still with him. He needs more from Aaron. He considers begging for once. Maybe that is what Aaron wants. He bites his lip hard to kill a sob.
Michael thinks about telling Aaron's wife about them because he wants Aaron for himself, full time. He blinks away a sad tear when he realises that, in truth, this is something that he will never do. He will not beg, but he will wait until Aaron is ready to accommodate him fully. He will always wait for Aaron. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, collecting himself. He smiles bravely into the dim light of the room, pulls out of Aaron's ass reluctantly, and tells him a dirty joke.