Should I Let Him In?

Ever since Joshua was a little boy, he was fascinated with thunderstorms. He loved to watch the way raindrops violently tap against the windows. He loved to hear the monstrous roars of thunder that caused the entire house to shudder. He especially loved to see blue streaks of lightning continuously piercing the black night sky.

And while his parents and teenage sisters prayed to God that the electricity stayed on for the duration of the adverse weather, Joshua silently prayed that it would go out. There's no better feeling than being completely shrouded in darkness. And this fatuation with gloomy weather stayed with him into adulthood.

Even now, as he sits in front of the fire in the living room. Every year, during his month-long vacation from work, he would spend at least one week in his parents' cabin. It sits in the middle of acres upon acres of woodland territory in the deep south of Alaska. And how lucky was he that the local weatherman predicted rain for that entire week?

He was fucking manic.

The only thing that had him a bit on edge though, was the wind that swished between the tall trees at breakneck speed. Even the biggest, strongest, most strapping tree in the world is liable to buckle under the pressure of those powerful gusts that are right outside. And what if one of those trees fell onto the cabin? Well, it'll be a tragedy for sure.

"Come on, positive thoughts. We'll be fine. I'll be fine," Josh reassures himself.

The cabin is a nice, small and cozy escape from the hustle and bustle of city life. So small in fact, the kitchen, the living room and the bedroom kind of mesh together into one big room. And from where he sits, he can see the sliding see-through glass door that leads to the front porch.

Clad in a chic set of green flannel pajamas; with one leg crossed over the other; he leans over to see if his mug of hot chocolate is cool enough for drinking. He grabs it by the handle and pauses. He could've sworn he heard voices just now.

He blames it on the wind and takes the cup to his lips, and pauses again.

The porch light begins to flicker.

"Please don't die, please don't die."

[The bulb dies]

"Dammit!"

He'll just have to change it tomorrow. There's no way he's going out in that rain right now. He doesn't have to worry long, because soon after, the lightning commences. It's currently 10pm. And even though it's pitch black outside, with each flash of electric blue light, the whole area lit up. Making it seem as though it was daytime.

The contrasting switch calms him. Light. Darkness. Light. Darkness.

Light.

Josh startles and lets out a high pitched scream; accidentally spilling the hot liquid onto his lap.

He screams again. It definitely wasn't ready for drinking.

His heartbeat thumps in his ears. Goosebumps appear on every part of his body. And right now, there's no denying that another warm liquid mixes with the hot chocolate to run down his legs.

On his front porch stands a tall hooded figure. Dressed in all black, looking exactly like a grim reaper that's ready to take him to the afterlife.

"Hey, hey you. Right there, I need some help," the man says, knocking away at the glass.

Josh is paralyzed. He doesn't know what to do. Why is this man even out here so late at night? The nearest dwelling is miles away. The compassionate side of him wants to open the door to see what's wrong, while the rational part of his brain admonishes him. He could be a killer. Are you crazy?

"Dude, I'm in a lot of pain. I'm not gonna hurt you, alright. I just want to come in and catch my bearings and make a quick phone call. Please."

There's a subtle undertone of desperation and distress in his voice that makes him seem genuine.

Josh's feet move on their own accord. He goes to the door, unlatches the bolts and slides it open, stepping aside so the soaked figure can enter.

"Thanks for doing this. I-I was fishing down by the river earlier and I was gonna camp there overnight but this fucking storm came outta nowhere." [He flails his hands exasperatedly.]

"My tent's gone, my phone's fucked. The map I had is wet and ruined. It's just that... You know what's crazy? I haven't caught anything all day. It's a total bust."

Josh clears the lump in his throat and says: "Damn, feels like a wasted trip huh? And wow, you're shivering. You should get outta these clothes. Stay right there."

He fetches a laundry basket and a few towels from the bathroom. And on his way back, he covertly grabs his stun gun from the table and tucks it neatly away in the waistband of his bottoms. Just in case.

"Okay, just put your wet clothes in here. I'll toss them in the drier and in the meantime, you can take a shower. There's hot water."

"Cool, thanks."

The man starts by unbuttoning his knee-length raincoat and taking his shirt off.

Josh subtly eyes his every move. His face is smooth and his jaw is rigid. His skin is the same shade as the warm and rich mahogany flooring throughout the cabin. His torso is completely bare of hair. Dark nipples sit atop a pair of well-conditioned mounds. And if you look close enough, his abdomen slightly hangs over his belt.

He then unbuttons his pants, and together with his underwear, he chucks them off. Not an ounce of shyness about him.

Josh turns to give him his privacy. But not before getting an eye full. The man's pelvis has a slight stubble of knotty curls. A dark, chubby, bare-headed penis and a drooping scrotum are nestled between a pair of strong, booming thighs. His shins are sturdy and his feet are large.

The sight makes Josh's penis fidget in his saturated pants.

"Alright, you can turn now." [The stranger says with a towel wrapped around his waist]

Josh takes the basket of wet clothes from him and they walk side by side to the bathroom. He looks over and notices that he's limping.

"Yeah, I kinda fell and twisted my ankle. I think I scraped myself up pretty badly too."

[Josh looks at him confused]

The man turns and Josh gasps.

"Oh wow!"

His mid and lower back look like they've been slashed by tiger claws. Repeatedly.

Josh shows him how to adjust the temperature in the shower and leaves him to it. When he comes out, Josh takes a bath himself.

*****

"My name's Joshua, but everyone calls me Josh."

"My name's Steven, but everyone calls me Steve," he mutters, mocking Josh.

"Funny."

Steve chuckles, and the vibrations under Josh's palms seep into his body. Electrifying him.

The two men are in the living room. Josh is on the edge of the couch while Steve sits on a footrest in front him. Minutes earlier, he sprayed some alcohol onto his back to disinfect his wounds and right now, he's applying an antiseptic cream to them.

Joshua's dad sometimes leaves a few of his clothes behind after spending time at the cabin. He and Steve are apparently the same size and he's currently wearing a pair of his gray sweatpants.

There's just no way Steve would ever fit in Josh's clothes. Steve is bulky and Josh is a tall, slender man. Josh got his physique from his mother. Actually, he got most of his features from his mother. He has her olive skin. They have the same full lips, the same deep brown eyes and the same brown curly hair. The only feature his father gave to him was his big, ugly nose. Normally, he keeps his face clean shaven, but since he's out of office, he lets his beard run wild.

Later that night, Steve borrows Josh's satellite phone to touch base with his folks but he kept getting their voice-mail.

"Don't worry, I'll be out of your hair tomorrow."

"It's fine, really."

The two men bid each other "Goodnight." Josh retreats to the bedroom while Steve takes the couch.

But unfortunately, Steve is still there the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that. The storm got more intense and the rain just would not let up. It made no sense leaving at this point. He was trapped.

Josh tries his best not to outwardly show his annoyance. This week was supposed to be filled with peace and quiet. A way for him to plug-out and unwind. But he can't do that with this man in his face all the time. The cabin is a shoebox for God's sake. It's not big enough for two people.

And it doesn't help that he complains about everything. First it was the couch. One night when Josh was on the verge of falling asleep, Steve popped in and asked if he could sleep with him.

"That couch is too taxing on my back. When I wake up I feel really stiff. I need to sleep in a real bed."

Josh made the mistake of allowing him to hop in. He barely gets any shut eye because Steve snores like fucking bear. And it turns out that his back is not the only part of him that's stiff in the morning. Josh woke up to the shock of his life on Thursday.

He looked beside him and noticed that Steve was still sleeping. He slept on his back and Josh looked down at his body to find that his black boxer-brief was insanely tented. Damn, boy scouts can camp under there.

There's a white button at the fly, and it was clear that due to the constant straining of his hardness against the fabric, it popped open, allowing Josh to get a slight glimpse of what lay beneath. His rod twitched every now and then, almost like it's reacting to an erotic dream that was happening in its owner's head.

For a while, Josh watched the gentle rise and fall of his belly and admired his lovely arms that were folded over his chest. Oh how he'd love to be wrapped in those arms. He probably gives great hugs.

When Josh went to take his morning shower, he couldn't get Steve's body out of his mind, and he found his own penis coming to life. He lathered it with soap, took it into his right hand and stroked away. With his left hand, he felt himself up, starting with his pecs. His belly. Going lower to give his sac a few tugs. He imagined that it was Steve rubbing his hands all over his body and it didn't take him long to shoot. He bit his lip to stop himself from crying out. He couldn't look Steve in his eyes for the duration of that day.

Now it's Friday, and Steve finds something else to complain about.

They are in the kitchen and Josh is gathering ingredients to cook a pumpkin soup.

"Ughhhhh, do we have to eat gourmet meals everyday? Like come on man, you take hours just to cook for two people. There are other meals that are just as filling and take way less time to prepare."

Josh feels affronted and looks at him sideways. "Excuse me? I think you should be bloody content with whatever you're getting. I didn't have plans to feed a stranger for a whole fucking week." [His voice gets louder with each word.] "What do you propose we eat?"

Steve ignores his little flare-up and moves past him to rummage around in the fridge and cupboards.

Josh looks at him bewildered.

"What I'm gonna make will take less than thirty minutes. Trust me." [Steve says]

Steve chops up some potatoes and puts them in a pot of boiling water, making sure to sprinkle in a bit of salt.

Next, he gets half an onion, half a bell pepper, half a tomato, two sticks of thyme and two cloves of garlic. He finely chops them all up. He lights the stove under a small frying pan and pours a little bit of oil into it. When it heats up, he sautées everything until they're almost cooked. Then he gets a bit of water and pours that into the pan.

Before the water can boil, he adds black pepper, cayenne pepper, curry powder, ketchup, salt and a small pinch of a bullion cube. When it finally boils, he adds hot sauce and stirs everything. He opens two cans of Brunswick tuna and adds them to the mixture and lets everything sit for a while. When it comes to a boil again, he shuts the stove off.

He doesn't even have to taste it because he makes this at least twice a week. He can do it in his sleep.

When the potatoes are soft enough, he strains them and rests them back in the pot. In goes some milk and butter; and he starts to mash them.

Josh watches him the entire time, amazed at his fluidity in the kitchen. Not once does he pause or ponder about something. Everything happens naturally.

He loves the way his eyebrows knit together and his tongue peeks out of his mouth when he's focused on something. And as he mashed the potatoes, Joshua is mesmerized at the way his biceps flex and his back muscles dance beneath his white slim fit t-shirt. A look further down and he appreciates the way his pants hug his luscious behind.

Steven exudes dominance. There's this aura of raw, masculine power about him that makes Joshua's insides turn to pudding. There's no denying it. He is all man. And he is so big. So much so, the floorboards groan underneath his weight.

Joshua's initial annoyance at his presence starts to dissipate. He begins to feel something else. Attraction? Lust?

Steve gets two plates. He places equal amounts of mash on each. Then he smothers them with that creamy tuna gravy.

When Josh took his first bite, he was so impressed that he instantly wrote down everything the other man did. He never admitted that it was the best meal someone's ever cooked for him.

After dinner, they both cleaned up the kitchen, then sat on the couch to watch a movie. They settled on John wick. When the credits rolled in, Joshua broke the silence: "Yuh know... according to my watch, you actually took forty minutes to cook that meal. Plus, it wasn't even all that."

Steve laughs. "What? No way. It wasn't all that but you still ate it all. Fucker."

"I was hungry." [Josh shrugs]

As soon as Josh looks away from him, Steve leans over and holds him in a headlock. "I know you liked it because I saw your face. Just admit that I can cook just as good as you. Even better."

Somehow both men end up tangled on the floor and Steve playfully punches Josh in his ribs until he gives up.

"Alright. Alright! St-st-st-o-o-p," Josh mumbles in a fit of giggles. "It was nice. It was nice. Aaahhhhh!"

"That's more like it."

When they settle down, they are both panting from the exertion. Josh is on his back and Steve is pressed up against him. Their eyes bore into each other's and Josh feels something hard pulsing against his left thigh.

Steve looks down at Josh with a look of pure hunger and raw lust. The look of a man who's ready to have his lover naked underneath him. A man who's ready to pleasure his lover for hours until he screams his name in ecstasy. But before Joshua has time to react, Steve leans down and covers his mouth with his.

Joshua wraps his arms around Steve's neck and pulls him even closer. Like that's possible. Their kiss is slow and undemanding. Their lips glide against one another's in perfect sync for a long time before Steve gently dips his thick tongue into Josh's accepting mouth. They kiss for a while before they both realize that the floor isn't the most comfortable of places.

They both stand and Joshua takes Steve's hand into his and leads him to the bedroom. They hurriedly undress and continue to kiss, but now, their erections collide against each other. Like a sword fight.

Steve pulls away and looks at him. "I want to touch you."

Josh nods.

Steve takes his hot flesh into his hand and Josh immediately sighs. It's been a very long time since he's been touched by another man. When Steve strokes him, he closes his eyes and starts to moan. Steve muffles those moans with his mouth and starts to kiss him with a lot more passion. Steve then starts to kiss his way down his body, starting with his neck. He then tongues both of his nipples.

He plants a straight line of smooches from his chest, down to his flat stomach. With his knees now on the floor, he presses his nose into Josh's groin and takes a long, deep inhale. Josh's penis smells so fucking good. And he knows it tastes even better. Steven takes the pale organ between his big black lips and Josh's legs go weak.

Josh's length carries a sweet yet sour taste. Its girth fills Steven's mouth nicely, and in the meantime, he reaches between his own legs and jerks himself off. Steve takes his time with the task. He slowly bobs his head up and down Joshua's cock, loving the way the ridges of the veins graze his lips, loving the sounds of the soft moans above him. Joshua reaches down and coaches his head with his hands to set the pace. He starts to move his hips to fuck into Steve's hot mouth with a lot more urgency; ramming his stiff pole into the back of Steve's open throat with mighty force. Steve doesn't cough. He doesn't sputter. He doesn't gag. He takes it all like a champ.

Steve moves away to suck at his balls. He puts the whole sac into his mouth and juggles them around before standing to kiss Josh once more.

Steven lies on the bed on his back and he pulls Josh on top of him. He positions Josh so that they are now in the sixty-nine position. Steven takes him back into his mouth again, but it takes a while before Josh does the same to him. Josh just stares at the majestic piece of apparatus before him. It's so beautiful. It looks so powerful. It looks like an enlarged version of a snicker chocolate. Josh leans down and with the tip of his tongue, he laps at the clear nectar that slowly seeps out of the slit. He then places his lips on the head and tries to suck out as much of it as he possibly can.

Without further ado, he envelopes the whole of Steven with his warm, wet mouth, making his legs buck underneath him. The two men pleasure each other with their mouths and it's unlike anything Josh has ever felt before. He's in absolute heaven.

After a while, Steven spits his cock out of his mouth and starts to thrust upwards into Josh's. He wraps his strong calves around his neck and forces his head down, holding him there for a long time until he starts to choke around him. When Steve releases him, he starts gulping in huge amounts of air and a wicked smile tugs at his mouth.

Steven pulls him further back so that his furry hole is directly over his face. He probes the pucker with his tongue. Josh starts to roll his behind against his face and at the same, he strokes his penis. He eases some of his weight off of Steven's face, fearing that he's suffocating him, but Steve holds his hips and pulls him back down.

Steven eats away at Josh hungrily, making sure to bathe his asshole with as much of his saliva as he can before they separate.

"Get on all fours for me."

Joshua gets into position and waits for his next command.

Steve gets behind him and massages his ass cheeks with his palms. He then spits on his fat middle finger and inserts it into his gaping hole. He ignores Josh's wince and works his digit deep into his anal canal. Josh is so fucking tight around him and Steven cannot wait to replace his finger with his aching cock. He adds another finger and starts to scissor him for a bit, then he leans back down and sucks his ass some more.

"Do you have lube?"

"There's some on the dresser."

Steven gets some and coats his penis and fingers with some. He then greases Josh's hole and tells him to lie on his stomach.

Steven climbs over him and lines himself up by his entrance. He slowly sinks his black wood into him. He's met with a little resistance at first, but inch by inch, his hole swallows him.

The intrusion makes Josh wince.

Steve leans down and whispers in his left ear: "Relax. Just take a few deep breaths." He darts his tongue inside of it and kisses Josh along his cheek and jaw.

Steve starts to roll his hips and grind into him. It feels wonderful to be inside of him. It's a snug fit for now, but as time passes, Josh's tightness starts to loosen around him, and at the same time, his whimpering turns to "oooouuuuu's" and "aaaahhhhh's" and "yes, yes, yes."

When Steve starts to really slam into him, the bed creaks beneath them.

Steve repeatedly headbutts his prostate with each deep thrust, and everytime the two organs make contact, an ember builds at the source and develops into hot flames that spread all throughout Josh's body.