No Remedy for Love Ch. 01

Thomas' fingers drifted down to my waistband and paused at the button-fly. He looked at me, as if waiting for permission and I nodded slightly. He smiled, his lips dark red, and deftly unbuttoned me and then lowered the zipper of his own jeans and pushed them down to his thighs. I had already noticed Thomas' tendency to go commando, and today had been no exception. For the first time I allowed myself a real look, rather than sneaking a peek. Until now I'd never really thought of dicks in terms of being attractive, beautiful, appetizing, luscious. His definitely was, standing up against his belly, the helmet thick and moist-looking. I touched it curiously with a fingertip, tracing a drop of pre-cum, then a vein leading along the stalk to the nest of dark curls. Thomas hissed in reaction, then cupped my hand with his own and wrapped my fingers around his cock. I let him guide me for a few strokes, learning his rhythm, then took over. He pressed his forehead into my neck, so I couldn't see his face, but I could feel the rising tension in his body, the way his hips were starting to jerk, and I stroked him more firmly.

"Yeah," he gasped softly, and then he spurted, his cum warm and slick on my belly, hand and wrist.

I wasn't sure what came next, but it seemed only fair that he return the favor. I caught his hand, which had been resting on my hip, and tried to bring it to my cock. Thomas raised his head and smiled at me, then dropped to his knees in front of me and took me in his mouth. I later found out that Thomas was a talented cocksucker, but not that first time. That first time, I was on my way to shooting the moment I realized why he was kneeling in front of me, and it was all over for me on the first downstroke. It happened so fast it never even occurred to me to warn him, but he didn't seem to mind.

He stood up again and tried to kiss me, but I turned away from the smell of my cum on his breath. He stepped back and I saw his face harden. I wasn't sure I wanted to ever do this again, but I didn't want to be a jerk about it, either.

"Thomas, it's... I'm..." I floundered, waving my hand between us, hoping he'd understand what I didn't myself.

"It's late," he said in a clipped voice, then turned away from me. Still leaning against the door, I watched him as he sat on his bed, unlaced and pulled off his Doc Martens and then shoved his jeans off with a quiet ferocity. I realized my own pants and boxers were still hanging halfway down my thighs, and I pulled them back up and buttoned them.

"I just..." I tried again, as he got into bed, but I still didn't know what to say, or even feel, for that matter.

"It's okay, Scott," he said. "Let's just get some sleep."

Easy for him to say. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth. The cum on my belly itched as it dried, and I wiped it off with a wet washcloth, then decided to take a shower. By the time I returned, he'd turned off the light, so I crawled into my bed and lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling.

My pop had always instilled a simple rule in me: never do anything that I'd be ashamed of him or Mom knowing about. There were some things I'd done that I knew they wouldn't exactly be proud of (like masturbating with Katie Kozlinski in my room when we were supposed to be studying for our SATs), but this was different. Though he'd never imposed his views on me and he wasn't strident about it, my dad was a staunch Catholic and while my faith wouldn't move an anthill, let alone a mountain, I knew being gay, or even bisexual, wasn't something he'd accept. I wasn't sure I accepted it either. Finding guys attractive, okay, not good, but acting on it? And not only that, but with my roommate, a guy I had to face every day for the rest of the term? Unimaginably worse. I tried not to let myself think of how much I'd liked what we'd done, not only the blow job -- my first -- but the kissing, even his sperm on my skin.

And then suddenly I was opening my eyes to daylight. Thomas was already dressed, lying on his bed and eating his breakfast of choice (Coke and M&Ms). When he saw I was awake, he asked me I felt like going to the Guggenheim and, eager for a return of normalcy between us, I acquiesced, even though I knew I wouldn't enjoy it. As it turned out, I did, like I enjoyed most of things Thomas ever introduced me to.