Matt and Jason Ch. 07

In the end, we did indeed watch Matt's ancient history documentary.

Truth be told, I liked it far more than I thought I would. It might have helped that for much of the rest of the evening, we... um... well, we played a little game of "Spartan Warrior" ourselves. I didn't realize how creative Matt was, but he was in his element. He even went so far as to give us suitable "names," calling me "Testicles" (pronounced as to rhyme with "Hercules"). I in turn called him Oedipus, as he was... a big motherfucker. Add in some lines of cheesy dialogue, and some steamy sex, and... well, we had an evening.

Maybe you would've just had to have been there....

That said, it showed me a whole other side to him. I mean, here's this prince of a man roaring through life, good job, crazy adventures, a fucking lion in the sack... and still at heart a goofball. A crazy-ass kid who was flipping out on this super nerdy stuff. It was like we were 13 or so and hanging out in our clubhouse. Easy. Effortless. Buddies.

And yet, for all the adventures I had had with them, none of my buddies had ever made me feel the way Matt did. It wasn't just that he made me feel like I was the greatest guy in the world--like I was someone--but he made me feel... sexy. Shit, that's not the right word. I mean, he didn't make me feel like some soft-focused, air-brushed guy on the cover of a romance novel, he made me feel like... like...

...like I fucking was sex. In its rawest, purest form.

Like a... damn, I wish I had the right word. I don't want to say like a "predator" or anything, because that makes me sound like I go around raping people. But like predator in the sense of an aggressive, musky jungle cat or timberwolf or Grizzley bear that went after sex hard. Something that could take anything you could throw at it, and give it back even harder. Letting it all out.

So that night, I was... caught off guard.

We were pretty spent, and after some heart-pounding play, we had both drifted off. He was snuggled against me, spooning, his well-used dick nestled against my ass, with one of his hairy arms wrapped around me. I was still getting used to sleeping in close contact with someone else, but right at that moment I was fucking loving it. He wasn't being possessive, not necessarily protective. If I had to put a word to it, he just wanted to feel... connected.

Wanting me just because he wanted to be with me.

It was an unaccustomed feeling. I'd never once felt it with a guy before, but I'm not sure if I felt it--truly felt it--with a woman before either. That kind of... connection.

I think I was half-asleep, kinda drifting. But I could feel Matt stir against me. His dick still nestled in my ass crack. His hands starting their own drift across me. Lightly. Just... feeling. I felt him bury his face against the crook of my neck. Breathing. Breathing in the scent of me. Lightly nuzzling me. God that spot... riiiiight there. I sent out an involuntary quiver. His hand slid across my chest. Across my abs. Circling. Circling. Still half-asleep, I stretched into him. Loving the light scratch of his beard on my skin. I reached back with my ass, reaching for him. I could feel the change in his dick.

Matt started a double assault... a stealthy assault. Still on our sides, his hand started making gentle circles down my abs, lower with each round. In the meantime, I could feel his beard making circles of its own. My neck. Onto my shoulders. Circles. Wider. Wider. He slid under my arm and nuzzled forward, upward. Until he was dancing across my armpit. Still breathing. Still nuzzling. It should have tickled, but it didn't. Finally, his tongue slid out, slithering across my hairy pit. The movement awoke something deep inside me. My cock fired up. Fully awake, as I was now, too. His hand slid down and embraced it. Cupping my hairy balls. He slid his hand back all the way up to where his mouth was, licked his fingers, then resumed massaging my balls with a low wetness. Slowly jacking me. I moaned.

I'm not sure who was harder at that point.

The thing was, what happened next was so... wild, but unlike anything we had done before. Slicked up, and with God knows how much cum inside me, he slid his cockhead against my hole until it opened, then slid in. Sloooooooooowly. I swear I could feel every vein of his shaft as it moved through me. He triggered me, lighting me up from the inside. I gasped, as that first feeling of male penetration rippled throughout my body. But instead of piledriving me, he began a slow, steady motion. Entirely rhythmic. Innnnnnnnnn and out. Innnnnnnnnn and out. Innnnnnnnnn and out.

All the intensity was there, but none of the violence. Controlled. Deliberate.

Innnnnnnnnn and out. Innnnnnnnnn and out. Innnnnnnnnn and out.

Oh fuuuuuuuuuuck.

I let loose a low moan as the fire inside me started to roar to life. Like my whole body was boiling. I shifted and rolled as he filled me, wanting to feel his dick deeper. Innnnnnnnnn and out. Innnnnnnnnn and out. Innnnnnnnnn and out.

God, he was so fucking big. So fucking hard. Hitting spots inside me....

Innnnnnnnnn and out. Innnnnnnnnn and out. Innnnnnnnnn and out.

Easy. But relentless.

The fire inside me was glowing with golden light. And I realized the heat inside me was matched by the heat of his body against me. The light scour of his chest hair on my back. His beard at my neck. Scaping. Scratching. The wetness of his lips and tongue. Innnnnnnnnn and out. Innnnnnnnnn and out. Innnnnnnnnn and out. His hands. Endlessly searching. Endlessly sweeping across my skin. Awakening me. That closeness. That all-encompassing closeness. Oh GAWD. Controlled. His motion was like a chanted mantra, and it was like I was in a trance. A trance of feeling, sexual awakening, and emotions too deep to be named. GAWD.

Without even realizing I was close, I suddenly erupted. Spraying cum everywhere as I convulsed against him. My entire body on fire. Wild. But he was controlled. Not done yet. His motion never stopped. Fucking relentless. Innnnnnnnnn and out. Innnnnnnnnn and out. Innnnnnnnnn and out. He swept up some of my spent cum, bringing his hand to my mouth. I sucked his fingers hard. Like it was his cock. Tasting my own seed. Harder now even then when I shot. The feeling. Him. Matt all around me. In me. Everywhere....

And for the first time in my life, I fucking gave myself to someone. I fucking leaned back, leaned into him... and gave myself to Matt. In a way I could never give myself to a woman. Let go. Let go of everything. And let myself be caried along in the greatest sexual... bliss... I had ever experienced. Dream-like. Drunk. Entirely at Matt's mercy. Innnnnnnnnn and out. Innnnnnnnnn and out. Innnnnnnnnn and out. Closer than I had been to anyone. One with Matt.

Totally freed.

Matt wrapped his cum-drenched hand and started jacking me, matching that intoxicating rhythm. With the wet pressure of his hand, it was like I was fucking an ass myself, in time with Matt fucking mine. I think my body was... singing.

He sped up, pushing harder. I responded, swept up with him, going where ever he carried me. His mouth, his hands, his skin bringing me to life. In and out. In and out. Faster. Inandout. Light filling me. Inandout. An ocean of light. Our bodies in perfect synch, rearing up together. Boiling over together. Sensations I never....

And when we finally came, together, I felt like the sunrise on the cover of an inspirational, self-help book. I was grateful for the room's darkness, so he couldn't see the tears of raw emotion running down my face.

Afterwards, I slept. Deep into the morning. Wrapped up in these feelings, and the feelings of Matt. And in my dream state, there was a warmth there. A warmth in my gut. No... not in my gut. In my chest.

Shit... in my...

...heart.

My heart?

What the hell was that? Was I just fucking deluding myself? I mean, what was that bullshit. C'mon, you don't "feel" anything in your heart; it's just this big ol' muscle that shoots blood through your body. What is this?

I opened my eyes. It was light out, and realized we were sleeping face to face. Close. I could feel his soft breath on me. Gentle. In all the ways that Matt usually wasn't. I watched him for a bit, marveling at this guy, this King of Guys who was sleeping next to me. Naked. Completely trusting, open, and vulnerable.

Guys are never vulnerable like that in my life. And like everything else about him, it was all so... effortless.

I didn't even realize I had raised my hand to his face. He's always so active, running around like his hair was on fire. But with him deep in dreaming sleep, I was free to just... touch him. No response looked for or hoped for. Just... touching him.

His beard.

He kept it fairly short--I'd call it a corporate beard, kinda like a Chris Evans look. Not the wild things of terror that some of the guys were sporting at work. Dark and thick. Part of what moved him away from just being attractive to being masculine. So fucking masculine.

It was slightly unreal. I've never just... you know, touched a guy's beard before. The funny thing is, women are forever bitching about facial hair, to the point that I half-expected it to feel like I was grabbing a power sander or something. Or maybe the wrong end of a Dollar Store broom. But it wasn't. Softer than I'd thought, and easier on the hands than my stubble, but still strong and course. Softly wiry. More like the hair of his man-bush than that of his head.

Nice.

Raking it gently. Letting my fingers lightly slide through it. Feeling the course hair fall away as I moved. The wiry drag against my fingers. That line where the fur ended under his jaw... now somewhat blurred after a couple days of unchecked growth. I liked it. Liked the touch.

Remembered how it felt on my skin when we were together.

It was... he was... beautiful. Shit. That's not the right word. How could you call him or his beard such a word when he was more powerfully masculine than I would ever be? He just....

Damn, he just... did something to me, you know?

Matt must have sensed my movement. He stirred, and his eyes flickered open. He saw me, felt my fingers... and just smiled. A quiet smile. I smiled back, and curled my fingers and scritched his jaw. He closed his eyes again and leaned into my hand. My fingers still drifting across his furry cheek. Damn... more masculine than I would ever be.

More of a man than I would ever be.

Matt shifted, leaning into me. Bringing his face to me close, but shifting. Moving against my neck. That soft scour of his beard against my fingers suddenly shifted to that magic spot right under my ear.

Daaaaaamn.

He swirled his jaw, his course hair awakening my skin. Running in circles. Not tickling... but activating. I sighed heavily. He just lightly ran his tongue there. The contrast between the scrub and his wet tongue sent a shiver down my spine. Down. Straight to my dick.

Matt was in motion, teasing me. Circles with his chin. That damn electric touch of that course hair. He slid down, his scruff meeting the hair on my chest. He rolled me on my back and scoured me down, down the center of my chest. Down. Down my belly. My body loving the roughness. The steely touch of his face.

I was sure he was going for my cock, standing hard and strong, but to my surprise he kept going. Kept scouring. Roughing up my skin. Down the inside of my thigh. It almost tickled, but the coarseness satisfied. Matt grabbed ahold of my leg, and flexed it... gently, but with determination. He pulled my foot to his face, and ground his gruff against it.

Oh fuuuuuuuuuuuck.

The course hair scoured my skin. Rough-gently. Harsh-softly.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuck

My skin came to life, reacting to his touch. And then came his tongue.

FUUUUUUUUUUUCK

My eyes rolled back as the sensations washed over me. Matt suckling my toes, while his beard seared the skin between them. Him not giving a fuck. Just reveling in the touch. Reveling in my reaction. My body fucking writhed. My skin on fucking fire. God fucking damn it. Only a man could pull this off. A man like the fucking god before me. Tongue and hair and spit. Fuck. I almost came.

Then, in a flash he was up again, sucking my dick down. Deep and wet. My hands instinctively grabbing his head. He was swallowing me down, then pulling back, rolling his tongue around the head, and going down again. Mashing against my balls, tangling his beard in my bush. Lapping me. Licking me. And swallowing me down all over again. Fucking me... face fucking me. Fast and furious. Jacking me to reach the parts his mouth couldn't. My shaft drenched in his spit. Harder and harder.

I fucking blew. Filling his mouth. So much, my spunk exploded out of him as he tried to swallow.

God he was good.

Later, I got up to fry some eggs and bacon for breakfast, needing desperately to refuel. The smell stirred Matt from the bedroom, and he came padding in with a huge grin on his face. "Whoo hoo! Real food! I haven't had anything to eat but your cum since dinner!"

"Yeah I can tell... I'm not complaining, but your beard is starting to look like a glazed donut!"

Matt picked up a piece of toast from the table and threw it at me. "You're fucking nasty, you know that?"

I shot him a huge, shit-eating grin. "Of course I do! I just didn't think you minded!"

We ate greedily, not needing to say much. I couldn't help but think I was going to miss him next week when he was doing his training in New Mexico.

When Matt was done, he lowered his fork, sat back, and put his hands behind his head. As Matt so delicately put it, I am fucking nasty, and I drank in the sight of his hairy pits flared before me. Damn, Matt looked good.

"Question for you, Jason. Are you happy?"

"Hmm?" I asked, confused.

"Just what I said. Are you... you know, happy?"

"Happy about what?

"Just happy."

I looked at him blankly for a second. "I... guess... so? I mean, I'm happy... you're here? Happy we're having breakfast? I guess. Life's pretty good."

He gave me a look. "Hey, I'm not trying to bust your balls or anything, just asking a basic question."

"You mean, am I enjoying life at the moment? Hell yes. HELL yes."

"No, I get that, and I think that too... I was just wondering about something... bigger."

Matt may have been saying he was asking a basic question, but I couldn't help but feel there was some kind of undercurrent that I was missing. It kinda felt like when you walk into a room and hear part of an argument going, but aren't quite sure what's up. "I... well, I have never pretended to be the world's best thinker. I guess I don't often think about... 'bigger.' Growing up in a blue collar, semi-small town, it was all 'do your job, keep your nose clean, and stay out of trouble and you'll be alright.' I guess I've thought of 'happiness' as something you feel... later. Like when you're an old geezer sitting in your favorite chair, with your walls full of pics and souvenirs from all your adventures, with a posse of grandkids climbing all over you."

Matt's demeanor... shifted. Ever so slightly. I don't know if I can quite describe.

"Ah yes. The grandkids. Yeah. Grandkids." He paused. "So, you're not all alone in your favorite chair. People are part of the equation."

"Well, yeah. I mean, I'd obviously want to be in a relationship someday. Wouldn't you?"

There was an imperceptible pause. "Yeah. Of course. 'Someday.' I get it. I mean, you want to know you have the right person. Right?"

"Is... something up, Matt?"

"No, just... no. It's nothing. Just kinda... nothing." He gracefully changed the subject, and we continued stuffing our faces. It didn't seem like anything was... wrong, really... but I half-wondered what was going on.

When Matt finally left after breakfast, I went back to bed. Okay, in honesty, I first went over to the sink and drank a lot of water, but primarily I just staggered back into my bed and hit the sheets like a tree felled in the forest. Out. Completely comatose. I remember vaguely thinking that when I woke up, I was going to feel like I did the first time I went cross-country skiing: sore in places I had never been sore before.

Yeah, I was spent.

The rest of the day was wildly low key. The highpoint was me sitting in my underwear watching the game while eating a bowl of cereal. Normally, this kind of wasted day was a perfect time for me to hit the gym, but I just didn't have it in me. Bored, later that night, I fired up the ancient history documentary Matt and I had previously watched, and watched it again. Curious to get a better sense of my guy and what made him tick.

My guy.

My.

And with that, I think I was starting to put together what was strange about our conversation at breakfast. "A relationship," I said. A relationship. Someday. It was a passing phrase, not meant towards anything... and certainly not about Matt and I. But, all the same, the words were out there.

Did... we... have... a relationship? Was "someday"... now?

Yeah. Fuck.

So, what was this... whatever it was we were doing? I mean, was it a real relationship? Were we moving in that direction?

Did... either of us want to move in that direction?

It was hard to tell my own mind. I mean... it was crazy. The idea was crazy. Wasn't it waaaay too soon to even think about being in a relationship? I mean... bullets had left guns with less speed than how fast Matt and I got together. I had gotten to know him over the course of a few months, sure. Knew of him in social circles for a few months prior to that. But in the end, the reality is all the fireworks had happened in like... just a few weeks. We hadn't even really given ourselves time to react to what was going on, much less think about it.

I was only just starting to wrap my head around the fact that guys could have sex together, and still think of themselves as guys. A relationship? With two guys? What would that even look like?

I had always assumed I'd... you know, find a girl I liked. Have sex with her. Find a girl I lived having sex with. And we would get married, and have more sex, and then we'd have kids, and so on. Have the grandkids I mentioned. I mean, that was the default. What everyone in my family had done, and would expect me to do. Even if they never said that. Even if they never specifically thought that. What would it look like if I brought Matt home? I grew up in a place that had once been a small town outside a major city. With urban sprawl, it was now pretty much no different from any other suburb, but it still had that small town background. What would my folks think? My douchebag uncle, my cousins? Neighbors?

This is when things would start to get real.

And again, that didn't even take into account my co-workers. Or that pack of wolves I call my friends.

And that bigger question... what, in the end, did I think?

I mean, fun is fun, and what Matt and I had been doing was great fun. Fuckbuds, really. I had had lady fuckbuds before with no problem, but never brought them home. Never really talked about them. No need. Never thought how they'd fit into my life.

But... Matt? Was he different? Did he mess everything up? Should he?

And what would it mean to blow up the path my life was on? Change directions like that? Was I okay with that?

God, my head was hurting with all this shit. But for all my freaking out over my own shit, there were a couple of questions forming in my mind that really scared the hell out of me.

What did Matt want?

Here's the thing. The entire time we've been hanging out, and even in the time we've been fucking each other like crazy, Matt has been clear that he is not looking for or ready for a relationship. Feeling like he's not ready. Which is completely bizarre... I mean, a great guy, as hot as he is, making bank, living in a hot property downtown? Jesus, He's got to be the most eligible bachelor in the fucking city. I mean, he could walk into Town Hall and pick up, like, every chick in the place if he wanted. But nope. He's said it to me, he said it to my well-meaning friends who have wanted to set him up. A big, fat NO. When at our last breakfast we were talking, he seemed to cool when I mentioned I'd like a relationship, just in the abstract. Which kept me from asking the obvious follow up question. Did me bringing up the idea in the abstract freak him out? Shit. I know he's been dealing with some heavy shit from his time with Alicia, and especially the breakup, and I've never wanted to rock the boat. If I even floated the idea with him directly, would he run screaming for the door?