Moments: His Old Bedroom

-- Living in Zach's childhood home, he tells me an exciting story from his past and brings it to life for the both of us --

_____________________

There are moments in life that feel already written, like taken from a story written before your time, but you get the fortune of living them. I can't help but feel like right now is one of those moments. Nothing special is happening--it's the opposite actually--it's the most mundane Saturday morning it could possibly be. I'm standing in our kitchen having just mixed some waffle batter and I look out of the windows into the back yard. Zach has neatly raked up several piles of leaves. He's going around one by one and putting them in the trash. If it was a little warmer he'd have his shirt off and this would feel even more staged. I smile at my own joke.

This morning we woke up early to move some furniture and hang some things on the wall; this became a normal part of our weekends, though we've accomplished most of our to-do list for the morning already. It's been almost a month since we moved into the house. It was his childhood home, only for a few years. His dad moved abroad for work and they rented it out for about 15 years. Zack started college in the US before his family moved abroad, but he returned back to the US after college and moved around a bit before returning to Chicago where we met at a wedding of all places. It was one of those mid-20s weddings neither of us wanted to be at but attended out of pure obligation. We commiserated for a short while until we both realized how much fun we were having together. We walked around the city and talked, something I normally wouldn't do in the middle of the night, but it felt okay with him. We said our goodbyes at sunrise and then were back together again by dinner.

His parents didn't give us the house, but it mostly paid for itself over the years and the plan was to sell it to us for far under the value. It's kind of perfect for us too. It's just close enough to the city to take a quick train in whenever we want, but far enough away to have a nice yard and some peace. Peace is something I didn't value for a lot of years but now I'm standing here, my whisk resting in a bowl of batter and I'm watching Zach with the last pile of leaves.

At the wedding I made a joke about wedding hookups and he told me it wasn't his thing. I wasn't implying we'd spend the night together but he talked to me about how dumb weddings were and went into companionship and trust and knowing people rather that marrying them. His philosophies were floating around in some ether and I didn't hate it. He wasn't against marriages because he wanted to go against something...he was against them because he believed in a connection that wasn't held together by anything else. He caught my attention in a way people don't usually do. He went on a rant about physical connection being the forefront of so many relationships and how worn out he was from the whole game of dating. I remember the look of embarrassment when he realized how he'd been going on-and-on about marriage and sex and dating while I just sat listening. He apologized and attempted to change the subject, but I was intrigued by his whole...thing. He was just honest.

I slip the batter into the fridge to rest and he enters the house. The smell of cool autumn mornings precedes his entrance into the kitchen. He hangs his jacket up in the hallway and holds his left arm out. I notice a cut along his forearm. It's not bad, but is goes across several of his tattoos and is bright red.

"The rake attacked; we have to put it down."

It's corny and I hate him for it. He smiles and rinses it off in the sink next to me. He dries his hands off and pulls me in and we hug. He smells like fall, like leaves, and he smells like Zach.

I came to understand his ideas of love and sex more as we spent more and more time together. He wanted things to be slow, but intimate. Hushed, but strong. There were several weeks where I questioned whether we would ever have sex, which wouldn't normally have bothered me shortly after meeting someone except for the fact that I found him extremely attractive. His glasses were a thin, round frame, his hair short and simple. He wore all of these oversized sweaters and I've still never got used to seeing him take them off. He just had a body worth looking at. He was fit, enough to show he worked out, but would never say know to splitting a delicious dessert.

He pulls me closer and his cold hands slip up my shirt onto the small of my back. I inhale a sharp breath and give into his embrace fully. His hands slide up my back and he's kissing my face gently. I slowly let the breath out and his hands keep moving around slowly. I feel chills, unsure if it's from the cold tips of his fingers or just the way he was touching me. He kisses my forehead and my cheek and my neck. He pulls my shirt up and I raise my hands before he pulls it all of the way off. His hands find my hips, his lips my collar bone.

The more time we spent together the more intimate we became. It was an emotional bond like no other relationship I had before, and it was good. It wasn't obsessive or needy; he just cared about me and I him. When we did have sex it was intentional. It was like everything else stopped and I guess just knowing how important it was to both of us in that moment made it so much more.

He kisses the center of my chest, my left hip, my stomach... I'm in a daze. This wasn't really expected moments after yard work, before breakfast... He stands up and kisses my lips again smiling this time. "God damn, today is a great day," he whispers as our faces still touch. "I'm going to take a very quick shower. He turns to go upstairs and I haven't said a single thing. I take a seconds to catch my breath. I'm half hard, very aroused and this man I love dearly didn't even invite me into the shower. I laugh a little and clean up the mess I started knowing it will just continue to grow once we actually cook breakfast.

I head upstairs and he's already rinsed off, a towel around his waist and he's grabbing some clothes. I stand in the doorway to our bedroom and he's slipping on a tank top. I wonder to myself if he's that warm from doing the yard work or if he's doing it because he knows I find it very attractive to see his arms exposed in a sleeveless shirt.

He slips on a pair of cotton boxer briefs and tosses the towel over his shoulder. He comes over and grabs my hand and pulls me behind him. We enter our spare room. It's not much of a room yet. It's our last priority in the house and there's not much other than a bed and a freestanding wood wardrobe I had in my small loft. He sits on the bed and pats the comforter next to him. I sit down, still shirtless just in some soft grey boxer shorts.

He talks in a hushed tone:

"So this was my room until I was about through my first year of college--until I transferred to go with my parents to Berlin. But memories keep popping into my head about the time my family lived here. Earlier I was reminded about an experience I had about 8 months before we moved. It happened right here in my old room."

He stands up and reaches his hand out. I take it and he lifts me up. He walks around the bed and slides it on the hardwood floors slowly. He rotates the bed and pushes it against a wall.

"It was around this time of year--fall break my first semester of college. This is where my bed was back then."

We sit on the edge again together.

"I have a very distinct memory. I had settled in to my old room after a long week of mid-terms and writing papers. I was watching watching some porn on my phone that afternoon and it peaked my interest on something I'd considered for a while. My parents were both gone overnight for wedding in the city and I had the house to myself."

I smile at him realizing where this story might be going...

"I wanted to know what it felt like to be...filled up..."

He pulled the damp towel from his shoulder and laid it flat on the bed.

"I laid a towel out just like this."

He guides me to it and lays me down. He crawls above me gently kisses my stomach, grabs the band of my underwear and gently pulls it down. I'm still a bit hard from out kitchen interaction and there's a small amount of precum resting on my tip. He smiles down at me as I lay their naked. I've been more active and taking good care of myself lately and I feel sexy underneath him, my stomach toned, my chest a little defined...

He opens the nightstand drawer and closes it. He's holding a jar of coconut oil.

"This is what I grabbed from the kitchen that morning."

He opens it up and sets the lid down. With one hand holding the jar he lifts one of my legs and rests it on his shoulder. He scoops out some of the firm oil, solidified from the cool fall air, and sets the jar down.

I lay under him waiting, watching him move with care. He softly presses it against me. It's cool to the touch at first but I feel it warm between the skin of his fingers and my body. He gently presses and shifts across my hole massaging it in.

"I had to be resourceful. I massaged myself with the oil for a while..."

His touch is still light, but becomes stronger, more intentional. I feel a finger slide right across back and forth and then he stops right on the entrance.

"I eventually got the courage to push in..."

And his finger in unison with his story pushes me open softly and slides into me.

I moan, as I always do, when he first enters me. This moment isn't like a story written before my time--it is ours.

"I was hesitant at first..."

He moves around gently, slowly finding his way deeper into me...

"...and then as I started I felt like I couldn't wait anymore"

He pushes further and it feels like so much of me is being touched at once. He's moving out now, and in, so slowly I almost can't tell which direction he's going.

"It felt like it belonged and yet I didn't want to let it go..."

He completely pulls out of me and re-enters with two fingers.

I groan loudly, unabashedly, ready for him.

"The stretch felt like nothing I had ever experienced," he continues whispering.

"My body eased into it and everything started to just feel...right."

He's pushing and the gentile but firm drag of his skin against my prostate pull air into my lungs, my mouth agape.

"I loved that feeling as much as I love giving it to you now."

And he's gone. He's pulled completely out. I am empty and longing for him. Before I catch back up to reality he's kissing my cheek. I hear the drawer open and close again on the nightstand. In his hands is the tank top he was wearing earlier and it's dangling above me.

"I remember taking my shirt off; it just felt right. I was so aroused and it dragged across my chest..."

The tank top lowers and the edge of it gently touches the center of my chest and starts to drag downward.

"The feeling of something else touching me made me feel alive, even if it was just a piece of fabric..."

He moves it back up and it crosses paths with my right nipple.

I sigh a loud sigh as the shirt drags around more and reaches my other nipple, a shiver down my spine, my back arches slightly raising off the bed. He's pushing every button I have. He makes the rounds again, sliding just above my hard penis and making its way back up circling my nipples one by one and caressing them with a light touch.

The shirt falls next to me and Zach is kissing my nipples now, one at a time, lightly sucking them. I feel precum sliding down my penis which has been ignored this entire time. He moves and reaches again. I lie and wait for what comes next.

"I didn't have many options... so I made do..."

I see him sliding more coconut oil across a fresh cucumber. My already slightly open mouth widens and I'm smiling while he pays such delicate attention to this vegetable he's lubing up... It's longer and thinner than most cucumbers.

He brings it to my hole and presses gently, holding it for a moment...and slowly twisting it...

"It wasn't perfect, but it also was...if you know what I mean... I started slow and it took me what felt like an hour to finally enter myself..."

He pushes again into me and I open up and start accepting the rigid, slippery cucumber. It stretches me out much further than his fingers, but he's warmed my body up to prepare for this moment. He leans down and brings his lips to my ear.

"I laid on my bed and gently fucked myself. I wanted to touch my penis but didn't want it to end...so I slowly moved it in and out over and over... after a while the pleasure began changing and evolving... I craved more and more as the pressure kept building..."

I let out a groan that is so loud I get pulled back to our current reality. I turn and we start making out like we're desperate for each other. He's thrusting now, not hard, but with passion... I feel the rhythm he's using pulsing in me, every breath evolved into a small moan.

"I felt like I had never felt before. I remember letting out these intense moans for the first time in my life...Gently brushing my nipples, going a little deeper every few minutes... I couldn't think of anything else if I tried..."

He slowly pulls it out and I feel empty. He sits up.

"And I hear the back door open."

I raise my head off the bed and look up at him.

"My mom's friend who still lives down the street stopped by to drop something off. She always had a key to our house, I just didn't expect her to show up randomly like that."

I feel my hole contracting, I'm aching for it to be filled again.

"I threw everything in my closet and got dressed quickly. She knew something was up when I met her downstairs. She could probably smell the precum I felt leaking into my sweatpants as we chatted."

He slips his briefs off and drops them off the bed. He moved back in and grabs my waist pulling me towards him.

"I stood behind the kitchen counter hiding the giveaways...my slowly shrinking erection, the growing wet spot...She talked to me for almost an hour about her college experience, how different it was then. It was torture."

He's back on the bed resting on his knees leaning back, my legs over his, he slides me closer.

"She finally left. My heart never stopped racing the entire conversation. I came back into this room and rip the clothes off as fast as I could. I crawl into the bed eager I start again."

He's gently pushing into me now... his warmth a stark contrast from the cool cucumber. He gently pushes more and more each thrust. It doesn't take much at the point for him to work his way down. I keep trying to look at him and my head rolls back onto the bed.

"This time it only took a minute to get it in..."

He pulls back and then ever so softly pushes fully in, all of the way. I can feel him filling me up and an ache deep inside me feels both satisfied and filled with a new craving.

"I ended up on the floor somehow, naked, one hand leaning against the wall, the other holding the cucumber. I figured nobody else would come over, and at this point wasn't sure if I even cared..."

He's fully in and my body is writhing under him. He leans in and we're face to face while he rocks his hips pulling and pushing, his previous rhythm slowly returning. I feel his dick hitting the perfect spot, dragging across again and again, each stroke causing my breath to skip a beat forcing me to catch back up, sucking in air before his next movement.

"I kept going and going and going. I dont even know how long I was standing there. I ended up collapsing on the bed face down and just went at it, right where we are now."

His rocking picks up and he's kissing my chest while I'm searching for air underneath him. I reach out and grab the sheets. I notice my other hand is grabbing his upper arm. He slows and grabs me by the shoulders and pulls me up. I'm sitting on his thighs, he's pushing up into me, arms wrapped around me, hands pressed flat into my back holding me against him. My head rolls back and all the way around eventually landing softly on his shoulder. I've let him lead the entire time but as he holds me up I feel fully relaxed, safely against chest. His arms, legs, dick all pushing and pulling me in unison.

"I felt something similar to what you feel now. The excitement was part of it, but being filled, being touched inside in a way my body would never forget... that brought me to a new place..."

My dick is pressed against our two bodies. I feel my precum between us as he grinds our bodies against each other with each tender stroke. I feel the moment approaching. Thoughts of his younger self moaning into his bedsheets turn me on so much. I feel arousal spreading through my body, hitting me instantly. My body starts reaching upward in pulses, uncontrollable, jerking in his lap while he kisses my shoulder and the pleasure emanates from within me. My prostate feels like it's bursting, I groan into Zack's shoulder and if I wasn't lost in the ecstacy of the moment I may have even felt silly. He's pulling my chest into his even harder and suddenly he slows into methodical, gentle but powerful thrusts, one after another as my orgasm reaches heights.

I feel the warmth of my own cum as I shoot onto our bodies. I feel myself falling, he's leaning forward and my back is on the towel again. He continues pushing and pulling as another wave crashes through my body. I feel my hot cum hit my chest and just above my stomach. His mouth at my ear, his breath sending chills down my spine. I hear a struggle in his voice, like he's holding something back and I can tell he's close.

"That day was my favorite memory in this house, until today."

He's pushes hard, stronger into me, I feel him swell and he starts shooting. My body is sensitive, the last of my cum sliding onto my stomach from my dick. The sensations slowly fade in my body but I feel my dick radiating with pleasure and my prostate aching for more while he grinds into me harder and I feel another shot inside of me. He grunts each time, still at my ear, and I can feel him inside of me, his breath on me, all over it's him and me.

"Now I'm here with you."

He slows with each stroke until he's hardly moving, almost cautiously sliding. My insides continue to scream, so sensitive, but he's so slow and gentle it just slows the fading of the intense pleasure. For several moments I find myself riding small blissful waves, his body completely on top of me, his body warmth all across my stomach and chest.

He kisses me on the lips, long and hard, and I feel him softening, sliding out as we share this intimate moment.

He stands up next to the bed and grabs the boxers he was wearing and begins to slowly clean me up. He can be shockingly tender and today is one of those moments. He helps me stand and we quietly walk to the bathroom where he turns on the shower. I step in and the warm water cascading down my body. I breathe slowly, he shuts the shower door and I hear the bathroom door close behind him. I sink down and rest on the floor under the hot water. I stay for several minutes, stand, turn the water off and find a towel and some fresh underwear on the countertop he must have put there before we came upstairs. I dry off and put on my underwear.

I find him downstairs, everything for waffles on the counter. He looks and smiles at me, still not wearing his shirt but wearing some lounge pants. I walk up behind him and slide my arms under his, holding him.

Hmm

We both release a soft moan.

I whisper, thank you. He turns and gives me the lightest, most innocent kiss.