Endings Ch. 02byingarlm©
* * * * * *
I'd probably never made the journey to my bedroom faster than I did right then, his wrist in my hand to make sure he followed me even though he was the one to ask. It felt like my hole was twitching in readiness, eager to have him inside me. I flicked the light on so I could see him and leaned over the bed to open the drawer I kept lube and condoms in.
He seemed to take my position as an invitation and pressed himself against me, pushing my legs up so I was on my hands and knees properly, and letting his obviously hard cock rest between my cheeks. I shivered in delight and anticipation of having it somewhere that would feel better and almost threw the lube and foil packet over my shoulder for his use. I knew if I looked back I would see him grinning, but I didn't want to.
I felt kind of cheap like this, waiting to be mounted by a man who I knew so little about, but strangely that turned me on even more. I didn't want to see him, I wanted this position and to feel a little used. I had the feeling that this was about him scratching an itch and I did not need to get attached to a man like that. If he could fuck me anywhere near as well as he could kiss and suck cock it would be enough.
Unsurprisingly he didn't use his tongue on me, but it was a shame because I loved that before I was fucked. I was glad at least that the first thing he inserted was only one finger and it was well lubed. He didn't give me long though, and I had two and then three fingers in me pretty fast. It hurt a little but I was too horny to care, and I moaned and begged for his cock anyway, hearing him chuckle.
“It's coming. Don't be so impatient Max.”
He emphasised that with a light swat to one cheek and I moaned louder. His laughter increased for a moment before he fell silent and I heard the foil tearing. Panting and desperate, I tried not to tense at what was coming, sure it was going to hurt but needing it anyway.
I felt the pressure of his cock against me and pressed back, eager to get him inside and groaning a mixture of pain and pleasure as I felt him enter me. He took it slow, and the wonderful feeling of being filled soon took over from the discomfort, even as I got more and more cock into me. I couldn't see where he was or how much more I had to take, but I heard him moan and I didn't care any more, I was making this good for him already.
The moment his balls met mine I knew I'd taken all of him. I still felt dirty and being used and it was making me harder and unwilling to wait until I relaxed. This was just going to be raw fucking, and I wanted it so badly I started to rock forwards and backwards, hearing a surprised gasp as Cam started to slide inside me.
“Fuck! You're so tight, hold still or I'll come right now.”
“You can do better than that,” I growled. “Fuck me like you mean it, or have you got too used to pussy to give a man what he needs?”
“You asked for it.”
Oh god, I really had. He slammed into me and I cried out at the feeling of being pushed apart, stiffening my arms to stop myself falling forward. I wanted to take all he could give me, and he seemed to have the idea. I moaned and cried as he pushed into me harder and faster, arching my back and pushing down to meet him on every thrust. I heard a strange mix of moans and curses coming from him in between him panting for breath and I loved the fact I was making him lose control. He might have made me beg him for this but he was going to work for his fuck.
He shifted position and was suddenly banging into me at just the right angle to make me scream, just like he'd said he would. He was good at this and I was loving it, not caring what I might get after tonight, just living for the moment. A very good moment, and not a short one either, he kept thrusting into me and driving me wild but he alternated between fast strokes and slower ones when we were getting close to coming, holding out for as long as he could.
Eventually he stiffened, and knowing he was going to come and how close I was I clenched my muscles to milk him, the effect causing both of us to moan and shoot only a few seconds later. I collapsed then, feeling the dull ache as his cock left my body and the emptiness, but mostly warm, glowing, and exhausted in the best possible way, my legs turned to jelly. That had been the best sex in years, and I was so glad he'd come to see me.
His body lay on my back, and I could feel the irregular movements as he panted and recovered himself. Knowing being with me had caused him to lose so much control and got him that worked up made me grin, but he couldn't see it. I was brought back down to earth when he got off me, heading for my bathroom and then when he returned putting his clothes back on straight away.
I watched as he dressed, making sure I got one last look at his body before it was hidden from my view. No cuddling after with Cam, it appeared. Actually, that gave me a very good idea of what he wanted to tell me. Sex, he could do, relationships he couldn't. This was going to be a few quickies in complete secrecy at best, and I had to decide if I could do that. Did I want a fuckbuddy, even one that good?
He left me in bed, and I heard the taps running in the kitchen. I wasn't going to find anything else out like this, so I stood and pulled some jogging bottoms on, deciding this was my house and I didn't need to get dressed. That done I followed the sounds to the kitchen and got myself a beer from the fridge, waiting for him to talk. Even if this was a one time deal, I didn't regret it in the slightest.
“Sorry Max, I got a bit carried away then. I was going to talk to you before we fucked.”
I smiled. “I'm not complaining!”
“Still, it would have been fairer for you to have a choice.”
“I had a choice Cam. I was begging for your cock, not asking you to stop.”
There was a hint of a blush on his face, but overall he looked smug rather than embarrassed. He knew he had just given me a fantastic fuck and he was very pleased with himself.
“I really enjoyed that,” he continued. “It's been a couple of years since the last time with a guy, and I forgot how much fun it is. What I was thinking was, I'm single, you're single, can we have a bit of fun now and again? You need to know, as much as I enjoy the sex, and I wouldn't do that with just anyone, I'm not going to fall in love with you, or do anything more than sex, or even tell anyone about this. I'll expect you not to say anything either.”
I stayed quiet for a while, thinking that through. Pretty much what I expected, but I felt I had to challenge some of what he said.
“Why are you so worried about people finding out you are bi? It's hardly the end of the world.”
“People make assumptions. Gay men think I'm fighting the fact I'm truly gay, straight women think I'm promiscuous and won't settle down with them, and everyone thinks I can't make my mind up what I want.”
He had a point. I'd heard most of those things said in the past, but I couldn't help thinking the one he was most worried about was what women would think of him. Did he know what he wanted? Apparently me for regular sex right now, and a woman to settle down with at some point in the future. If I didn't take him up on this, not only would I be missing out on great sex, I'd be missing out on any sex, because there weren't any likely candidates right now. Sex with him had to be better than the occasional one-nighter picked up in a club.
I took a swig from my drink and made my decision. I fancied him, we had fun together, and if that was all it could be, I would keep any other emotion out of this.
“Ground rules,” I started. “You want to date other people, I'm guessing?”
He looked a little startled at me being so blunt, but he answered.
“Women Max. I don't date men and I'm not planning to, but yes, I'll be going out for dinner and movies, things like that.”
“And having sex with some of them?” I enquired further.
“Given half a chance, yes,” he replied, grinning.
“So this, between us, is going to be for when you can't get any pussy and you want to get laid, or you want to get laid only the way you can with another guy.”
I left it as a statement rather than a question, and he squirmed a little.
“In that case, these are the rules. I'll keep your secret anyway, I promise. We come up with some text code to make arrangements when mutually convenient, no expectations that I'll come running when you're horny or vice versa. There has to be some option for me in this, not just you deciding when we'll meet. We can both date and sleep with who we want, but it's condoms only, at least between us. When and if either of us wants to end the arrangement, we can call it off, and it's off for certain if either one meets someone special, someone they want to date exclusively. I don't cheat, and I'm not going to help you do it.”
“Understood. Do you want to put that in writing?” he asked, grinning at me.
“I'll take your word. I don't think you really want a signed agreement in existence, do you?”
We were joking with each other now, but I knew it was agreed anyway. I just had to make sure I didn't get hurt in all of this, because I was laying a lot more on the line than he was. He wasn't going to fall in love with a guy, but me, I very easily could, especially when he smiled at me that way.
* * * * * *
In the back of my mind, even as I made the deal with him, I knew I was making a mistake. Sure, I liked the idea of some semi-regular sex, but it wasn't really what I wanted. I was looking for a relationship, someone to settle down with and be mine. I couldn't help wishing he would change his mind, that maybe I would be different.
After three months I realised I'd gone ahead and done what I promised myself I wouldn't. I loved him. He was the centre of my world, even if it had settled down to once a week or so when I would see him and we would suck each other off, and he would fuck me, and then be out of my bed before I'd had chance to calm down. He'd hold and kiss me before, but after was too intimate for him.
I wanted to wrap myself in his arms and sleep but he would never stay. I wanted to walk down the street with his hand in mine and kiss him in public but there was no chance. We often saw each other with other friends, particularly Alison and Sara, and in those situations I craved his touch even though I knew it would never come. I could spend the night before writhing in his arms as he expertly took my body to new heights but in company I had to pretend he was nothing more than a friend and it killed me.
My gay friends tried to set me up on dates, and I went on a couple, but as soon as I met the guys I was comparing them to Cam and no-one measured up. I even slept with one, but that was an even bigger mistake. The sex was hollow compared to what I had with Cam and I cried myself to sleep afterwards feeling as though I had cheated on him.
Although he didn't tell me much, I knew he was dating women and Sara often mentioned someone he had gone out with and her shortcomings. I took some comfort from the fact he hadn't found anyone, but it hurt to hear about his dates even if it went badly. Those women were at least able to do something I never would – go out with him in public without having to play at being just friends.
We did go out together, and I thought of that time as dates even if it wasn't for him. It was wonderful to have him to myself like that and I could just pretend there was more to it. Dinners in a little Italian restaurant we both loved were the best, but I often had to pull my hand back before I reached out to touch him in a lovers gesture. It was pleasure and torment in equal measure.
The lines for him were very clear, but for me they had been blurred all along, and the longer I spent with him the more I needed him, and the more I prayed he would come to realise that he could have a real relationship with me. I knew he cared about me, but that only extended to the ways he could enjoy my company, not to love.
He told me a lot more about his previous encounters with men, and I held onto the fact that he had never had anything regular with a guy. It was all drunken one night stands, rarely more than sucking, and the way he spoke about those men, I knew our relationship was different, just not as much as I wished it could be.
At that point I had no idea how different he was prepared to be with me. We would kiss, a lot, before anything else happened, and he had no problem with licking and teasing my body before he got to sucking me off, or if I did that to him. It always ended with him fucking me, never really face to face, unless I was riding him, and he wouldn't kiss me either during or after, or at least not on the lips.
I had to be careful not to show my shoulders or neck as they almost always now bore some evidence of our most recent time together, bruises and marks that proved how much he enjoyed sucking and biting at me as he rode me into another wonderful orgasm. He was by nature a confident guy, not afraid of telling people what he thought or wanted, and that certainly extended to how he was in the bedroom. I wasn't exactly submissive, but I didn't mind following his instructions either since I knew it would always be good and it helped me maintain the appearance that this was only about sex for me.
Now and again he would let me take more control, and on those occasions I did take the chance to push his boundaries, particularly to get to a point where he let me rim his tight hole. I had no doubt it had always been exit only, and the first time I dared to lick him there he nearly shot off the bed away from me. It took a hell of a lot of coaxing on my part, and reassurance that I enjoyed it and it wasn't the precursor to anything being inserted, to get him back under me.
Thing was, he really enjoyed it. He didn't admit as much, but over the next few times we met it became something he asked me to do for him before he fucked me, even if he did make very sure to tell me each time not to try sticking my fingers or anything else in him. It was a start though, and the way he reacted with moans and cries of pleasure, and the way he pushed his arse towards me as I worked made me wonder if he was completely sure about him being no entry.
I had these fantasies, when I was alone in my bed, and especially after I had been with him, of taking it further and fingering then fucking him. I could picture him writhing beneath me, the heat of him around me, his tight muscles twitching as I pushed into his channel, his screams and cries as he came, knowing they would be loud as always.
That became my favourite stroke fantasy. I didn't want to take a chance on him refusing me and never coming back to my bed, but I hoped he might ask for more one of these days. I wasn't used to a diet of one-way sex, even though my preference was being taken. The longer that was all I was getting the more I wanted to be the one sinking between those tight cheeks of his, giving him something he could only get from a man and hoping that might make him not want to go back to the girls.
* * * * * *
By seven months into our arrangement I was pretty much obsessed, both with him and with getting his arse. It was pathetic, because he still didn't give any indication of wanting any change to our situation. He spoke about the women he took out freely now, telling me about them and how dreadful they were before he took me to bed. Funny idea of foreplay he had, but when his attention did turn to me I never failed to rise to the occasion immediately, sometimes from just his smile.
I was surprisingly happy covering for my meetings with him, cancelling plans with friends and with my sister to see him. For all I had said about him not expecting me to drop everything for sex, I would always make out I was free when he asked, because I craved being with him that much. My friends didn't really notice, as it wasn't every night, but Alison certainly did.
“Why are you avoiding me?” she finally asked one day when I was at her house for dinner.
Instantly I was on the defensive.
“You do realise this is the first time in weeks you haven't had something else on. Are you going to tell me who it is?”
Crap. I should have known she was going to ask sooner or later. I had to be very careful about my answer.
“No. It's not like that Ali. I've just been busy. Sometimes that has been with a guy, but mostly with my friends.”
She gave me a stern look. “That's rubbish. I know your friends and they haven't been seeing you much either. What's the big secret?”
Okay, perhaps my friends had noticed, and it wasn't going to be that easy to explain.
“Fine. I've kind of met someone, but it's not serious. I'm just having a bit of fun, and he's lots of fun,” I finished with a grin.
Alison looked a little happier but still not convinced.
“If it's fun and you're happy then that's cool, but I can't help worrying if you cut us all out for some guy you won't let us meet. Promise me you aren't giving everything to someone who's going to drop you the moment he finds a better offer, and remember we will always be there for you.”
Was I? Yes, probably, but I couldn't tear myself away from him even though I knew he'd leave me at some point. Perhaps I was giving him too much of me, but I couldn't stop doing it when the time I did have with him was so good.
“I promise I'll make more effort to spend time with everyone else. It's just been such a long time since I've had regular sex, I keep getting distracted. Sorry Ali.”
“You know I'm only saying this because I love you, right? I want you to be happy, and I can't help thinking that a secret bit of fun isn't what you need. You don't just need sex, you need more than that.”
“I know that, but until I find someone who can give me everything, I'm very happy to have at least this. I'm getting what I want right now.”
There was half a lie in that, but I couldn't tell her more without betraying Cam's confidence or making her worry more about me. She knew me too well, and what she thought, it was everything I worried about too, but I wasn't going to let him go until I really had to.
* * * * * *
After that I did make more of an effort to see everyone else, and although there was some speculation about my mystery man, even Alison and Sara had no idea who it was. The fact that Cam was keeping up a front of dating, and doing quite a bit of it as well, meant they never even considered him as a possibility. My gay friends joked that he must be married, and although it offended me that they would think that of me when they should know how I felt about cheating, it was easier to let them assume that.
Meanwhile, I was still waiting for the day Cam found one of these women was worth breaking things off with me, hoping he'd decide he could be with me properly instead, and trying not to let on how much I felt for him. My thoughts went from the heights of pleasure when he was with me to the depths of despair when I thought about how and when it would come to an end.
When he was with me I could forget what I was to him, but each time he left I imagined it was for the last time, and I hated how it made me feel. I knew that I was going to hurt when it finally happened, and I wasn't sure how I would be able to cope with being without him. I was annoyed with myself, knowing I had opened myself up to all the hurt that was on the way just so I could be with him.
Every time he called or texted, I made the time to see him, revelling in having him all to myself and thanking whatever deity was up there for him wanting to be with me again. It was pathetic how much I lived for those moments, but he meant so much to me I couldn't help myself.