tagGay MaleSpill The Milk Pt. 02

Spill The Milk Pt. 02

byTrahi©

When Seth pulled up in front of my house, I realized, exactly, how loud his truck really was. And how quiet my neighborhood was. He got out of his truck, and I cringed at the noise his door made.

"That thing is really loud," I told him as he approached me standing in the middle of my front yard.

He grimaced. "I know. I'm sorry. It needs help."

I glanced around, hoping we hadn't woken up the neighbors. "It's fine."

He made a little breathy noise. "Are you sure that you're okay with me being here? You don't have to do this."

He was right. I didn't have to do it. I could just let him walk out of my life forever. I reached up and caressed his beautiful face. "Yes, I do. Try to be patient with me. This is a big step for me."

"Big and scary," he teased.

"Very," I agreed.

I took him by the hand, led him into my house, and directly to my bedroom.

When I turned to face him, he was wearing an amused smirk. "Anxious?"

I grinned. "Yeah. A little. Sorry. I've never done this before."

He snickered. "It's fine."

"Could you wait for me for a second? I need to check on Mitch."

"Sure. I'll just make myself comfortable."

The thought of Seth getting naked and crawling into my bed was almost enough to make me forget about checking to make sure my best friend hadn't choked on his own vomit in his sleep. Almost.

Mitch was fine, sawing logs and sleeping off his drunk. I was back in my bedroom in record time. I closed the door and leaned against the back of it. Seth was sitting on the end of the bed, still fully dressed. We just stared at each other again.

"You're going to have to help me. I don't know what I'm doing."

"I seem to remember you knowing exactly what you were doing." He smirked. "And doing it very, very well, I might add."

I smiled. "Thank you. But that was just fucking."

"And what is this?"

"It's different," I admitted. "More."

He gave me a soft smile and held out his hand to me. I walked over to the bed and slid my hand into his while sitting down next to him.

"Calm down, Adam," he advised. "Stop putting so much pressure on it. Stick with what you know and build from there. This isn't so much different than before."

"It's very different," I argued. "Everything is different. You're here. In my house. In my bed. And the things I want from you are different too. This is totally uncharted territory for me."

"What do you want?"

"Right now?" I asked, and he nodded. "I want to kiss you."

"Then kiss me, Adam," he breathed, staring at my lips. "I'm right here."

I leaned in slowly and brushed my lips against his in the lightest of touches. He opened his mouth, licked my bottom lip, and I was lost. All of my fears, worries, and concerns were forgotten. All I knew was this man. I was completely focused on the feel of him, the scent of him, the taste of him. All of my senses were inundated with Seth.

We ended up naked and in my bed, but I, honestly, have no recollection of getting undressed. In my memory, one second we were just sitting on the bed, kissing and touching, the next, we were naked and horizontal. There are parts of me that regret that. I would have liked to have been able to recall the experience of exposing his body and rediscovering every square inch of his flesh. I was so overwhelmed with having him in my arms again that my mind could only process so much at a time.

I clearly remember sitting back on my heels and looking at him. He was on his back, with his head on my pillow, lying naked and spread out before me. He was, by far, the most gorgeous creature that I had ever seen. His raven-black hair was fanned out across the pillow, and his tanned skin contrasted in stark relief against the dark blue of my bedding. I reached up and skipped my fingers down his ribs and over his hip while he writhed under my gentle caress. His body was sleek with lean muscle and little to no body fat. His breath hitched, and he moaned softly as my fingers brushed against his hard cock lying on his concave belly. His back arched, and his hips undulated, seeking more pressure and friction from my questing fingers.

His smooth skin was stretched tight over his sinewy frame, calling to me. I lowered my head and drew the flat of my tongue over the tattoo on his hip, causing him to moan loudly and grind up into my face. I had the overwhelming desire to taste every inch of him, and I didn't fight it.

I didn't fuck him. This time, it wasn't because we didn't have supplies. There were condoms within arm's reach. I didn't try to take his ass because he wasn't a trick. Instead, I made love to him with my hands and my mouth. I wanted to learn everything about his body, discover every nuance that brought him pleasure. For the first time in my life, I was in no hurry to come. I wanted to milk as much pleasure from him as I possibly could. I wanted to be the best that he'd ever had. I wanted to erase all memories of every other lover he'd ever known. I brought him over the edge twice before I let him take me with him. Exhausted, we fell asleep wrapped up in each other as the sun rose outside the bedroom window.

**

When I woke with Seth still in my arms, I immediately went into a panic. My heart was pounding so hard that I was seriously concerned that I was having a heart attack. I kept trying to remind myself that I had made this choice. I wanted this. Everything would be fine. It didn't work. I, carefully, extricated myself, slid out of bed, and slipped on a pair of shorts without waking him.

I made a pot of coffee and sat at the kitchen table, trying to calm down. Whatever I was doing wasn't very effective because I was still freaking out when Mitch wandered into the kitchen looking like death warmed over. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat across the table from me. I knew better than to speak to him. He wasn't a morning person on the best of days. Add a hangover to the mix, and all the denizens from the seven levels of hell would have been more pleasant breakfast companions. I, silently, sipped my coffee and waited for him to speak first.

About halfway through his second cup, he said, "Your face looks like shit."

"Yes, well, this is what happens when I let my best friend provide beauty tips," I replied sarcastically, with heavy emphasis on the 'best friend' part.

He winced, and not from the noise. "You still got that shovel?"

"Yeah. Why? Planning to hit me with something harder?"

He scoffed. "If that were the case, I'd just use my head. There's nothing harder than that."

"True." I smirked.

"I was thinking I might go out there and start digging that pool."

"You think a measly pool is going to make up for the fact that you've destroyed my career?" I sneered. "I'm never going to win a beauty title looking like this."

He huffed a dry laugh. "I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you weren't all that pretty before."

"I'm going to have to disagree with you on that," Seth opined, sleepily, as he walked into the kitchen.

From the moment I'd gained consciousness, until Seth walked into the kitchen, I had been flipping out. The instant I laid eyes on him, all that changed. He was drowsy, and his hair was all bed tousled. He was wearing one of my t-shirts, and it was so big on him that, with his feet and legs bare, I couldn't tell if he was wearing anything under it. He looked gloriously well fucked and incredibly sexy. The expression on Mitch's face can only be compared to what I'd imagine someone would look like if they had suddenly swallowed their own tongue.

Seth ignored Mitch and went straight for the coffee pot.

"Right hand side of the sink," I told him.

"Oh." He opened the cabinet and got down a mug. "Do you have creamer?"

"Just milk. The sugar is in the pantry."

Seth made himself a cup of coffee and announced, "I'm going to leave you guys to your pissing contest."

"Whoa, whoa, wait a second." I grabbed the back of his t-shirt as he tried to leave.

He turned and arched his eyebrow at me. "Yes?"

I crooked my finger in a 'come here' motion. As soon as he got close enough, I tugged him down to me and kissed him. "Good morning."

He smiled at me. "Good morning to you too." Then he turned to Mitch and scowled. "You don't get one. And the next time you slug my boyfriend, I'm going to cut the brake lines on your car." Then he turned and strolled, casually, out of the kitchen.

"Ho. Ly. Shit," Mitch mumbled under his breath. "What the ever-loving fuck was that?"

I chuckled. "That was Seth. My boyfriend."

I watched a whole host of emotions play across the features on his face as he tried to process the revelation. After a good five minutes, he looked up at me. "He was kidding about the car thing, right?"

I smirked at him. "Guess there's only one way to find out."

**

Mitch and I sat at the kitchen table for hours and talked. We discussed Jamie and Craig, him and Gloria, and Hannah and Crista. He was in a really bad place, and letting go of the hope that he'd, eventually, be able to work things out with Jamie was very difficult for him. Around two o'clock, Seth came back into the kitchen in his own clothes, with his hair back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck.

"I have to go," he told me. "My shift starts at four, and I need to shower and brush my teeth and stuff."

I frowned. I didn't know that he had to work. I had been hoping to spend some time with him. "What time do you get off?"

"We close at ten, so... sometime after that."

"Are you coming back here?"

He smiled. "If you'd like."

"I'd like." I grinned.

"Okay." He turned and walked toward the front door.

"Wait!" I called and caught him at the door. I wrapped him up in my arms and kissed the breath out of him. After yanking the rubber band out of his hair, I threaded my fingers in his silky locks and did my utmost to try to merge our bodies into one. I was forced to break away before I lost all control and had my way with him right there in the entryway.

"Hmm," he moaned. When he opened his eyes, he squinted at my hand and then pulled the band off my fingers. "You're going to be very hard on hair ties."

"I'm going to be very hard on a lot of things," I replied seductively, grinding my hips against him.

He grinned at me. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Bring a toothbrush," I suggested. "I'm planning on it taking a while."

He wiggled his eyebrows at me. "Better and better."

After he left, I walked back to the table with a bounce in my step and a silly little grin on my face.

Mitch was giving me a look. "What?" I asked.

"Don't you think this may be moving a little fast? I mean, how long have you known this guy anyway?"

"Three years." I admitted.

"What?" he barked. "Three years? What the fuck, Adam? You lied to me?"

"When?"

"A year ago!" he accused. "You told me that you'd never been in a relationship with a guy. I thought we were over all that lying and pretending bullshit. This is seriously fucked up, man."

"I didn't lie, Mitch. I met him three years ago. I just ran into him again. We only decided to try being together last night. Give me a break. This is all new for me. I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't be a shithead about it and try to be supportive or something."

"Supportive, huh?" he drawled.

"Yeah," I shot back. "In case you're not familiar with the concept, just try to remember how I've treated you for the last twenty some-odd years."

He glared at me for a minute and then sighed. "Yeah. Okay. Point." He leaned back in his chair. "So tell me about him."

I was shocked but willing. "What do you want to know?"

"I wanna know if he's good enough for you. How'd you meet? How come I've never met him before?"

"Do you remember the night that me, you, and Craig went to that carnival?" He looked confused, so in a falsetto voice, I added, "They've got beer!"

He chuckled. "Yeah."

I nodded. "That's where we met."

"No way, man. I was with you all night. I never saw you pick up any guys."

"Of course you didn't. You were too busy trying to get into that girl's pants."

"Trying," he scoffed. "There is no try, dude. I banged that chick after I dropped you off. I got the best piece of ass in my life that night."

I smirked. "So did I."

He stared at me, eyes open wide in a stunned expression. Then he started laughing a deep, belly laugh. "I guess I don't have to wonder which one of you is the chick, man."

"Don't do that, Mitch," I said quietly. "Neither one of us is a chick. I'm a guy. I have no interest in being a woman. I'm attracted to other men. There are lots of amazing people out there that identify as being women, I'm just not attracted to them."

He frowned. "I didn't mean anything by it."

"Maybe not." I shrugged. "But you wouldn't appreciate being called a girl, so what makes you think any other guy would?" He opened his mouth to defend himself, and I held up my hand to stop him. "I know, you're just curious how it all works, and you think about it, but you don't want to ask. Well, I'll tell you. It works exactly the same way it works when you have sex with someone. Everybody likes things a little differently, but the basic functionality is the same. Lovers, good lovers, gay, straight, bi, or other, make it a point to figure out what gives their partner pleasure so they can give them the most mind-blowing experience possible.

"I've never had that. I've never been with anyone like that. I want that in my life. I want to have someone who cares enough to find out what I like. I want that person to be Seth. I really like him, and I'm terrified. I don't know how to do this, and I just know that I'm going to fuck this up royally. I'm going to do my best not to let that happen, so I'd consider it a personal favor to me if you would do your best to try not to be a fuckwad. So, in the future, before you open your mouth and shit just falls out, run it through your head first. Ask yourself if you'd be okay with someone saying the same thing about Jamie. If it passes that test, feel free to spout off. Okay?"

He scowled, but he also managed to look chagrined. I had no doubts that we'd go rounds about it later. This was all new territory for everyone involved, and Mitch didn't take well to change. But, for now, Mitch had bigger things to worry about than the presence of a man in my life and in my bed. Right now, Mitch needed to figure out how to come to terms with Jamie and Craig getting married. The massive blow of his former friend stepping into his role of husband to Jamie and father to Hannah and Crista was devastating, and I wasn't all that confident that he'd pull through it. But then he said something that completely shocked me.

"Hey, Adam? In the future, I think we should try to find other ways to cope with shit. You're not getting any younger, and I don't think your face can keep taking the abuse."

I smirked. I couldn't help it. Maybe he'd be able to come through this intact after all. "I could have taken you."

"Please," he scoffed. "You fight like a girl."

"I seem to remember you getting your ass kicked a time or two by girls," I reminded him.

"Only because I didn't fight back," he argued. "I don't hit girls. I let them win."

"Exactly." I grinned.

He grinned back. We both knew that I was full of shit. He could clean the floor with me. "I'm serious, Adam. No more fighting. Okay?"

"You didn't exactly hesitate when I told you to hit me," I pointed out.

"No. I know," he replied, looking embarrassed. "I shouldn't have done that. It's kid's stuff."

"And we're going to be grown-ups now?" I arched my eyebrow in disbelief.

He nodded. "I think, maybe, losing Jamie and the girls has been a wakeup call for me. It's time for me to start acting like an adult."

"Yeah?"

He nodded.

"Well, okay then." I smiled. "In that case, you might want to start with providing the girls a safe environment when they're with you. You know what I'm saying?"

He grimaced. "Yeah. I get it. She's not that bad, you know."

"Yes, she is."

We stared at each other in silence for a long time before, "Yeah. Okay."

I smiled. "Good."

He smirked at me. "So when do you want me to move back in?"

My eyes widened in shock. "What?"

"You want me away from Gloria. That means that I have to move out. And I can't think of a more loving environment for the girls than here," he explained. "Besides, between alimony, rent, and child support, I can't afford another place. It's going to take a while for me to get some money."

"Well, fuck," I groaned. That was going to put a huge damper on my plans for a rousing sex life with Seth. I sighed dramatically. "Not tonight," I begged. "Please. Give me tonight alone with Seth."

He laughed at the pathetic look on my face. "Sure thing, stud."

**

I took Mitch home at five and then spent the next four hours scrubbing my house as if I was preparing for a visit by the Queen of England. It was pretty silly seeing as Seth had spent the better part of the day in my house, totally unsupervised. I was fairly certain that he'd already seen the hard water stains in my bathroom that I spent an hour trying to scrub off.

Nonetheless, it gave me something to do to keep me distracted from the fact that my emotions were a train wreck. It wasn't until I had showered, twice, and was standing in my closet trying to figure out what to wear, that the full weight of my stress hit me. I had the whole thing: butterflies, pacing, fidgeting, and nausea. Most people probably got over that kind of thing in high school, but since I'd never really dated anyone that I was interested in back then, or since, I got the full experience for the first time. It wasn't pleasant, to say the least.

Other than my clothes, I had the hardest time trying to figure out what color sheets to put on the bed. What color would best hide the variety of stains from body secretions and other things? I had no idea. I finally went with white, deducing that they could be bleached. I really had no clue what I was doing. I had been gay all my life. Of course I had, one doesn't suddenly become gay. But, unlike a lot of guys, I always knew that I was gay. I never had any doubts or sexual identity crisis. I also, instinctively, always knew that I had to hide it. I had two older brothers. When Mitch had said that everyone said derogatory things about faggots, he wasn't kidding. I grew up listening to it.

I remember the very first person that I was ever sexually attracted to. I was seven. I was in second grade, and his name was Tom. He sat next to me in homeroom. I knew what sex was, even at that age, and I recognized what I was feeling for Tom. I also knew enough to keep my eyes down on my desk and keep my mouth shut. Over the next couple of years, Tom hit a growth spurt. By the time we were in fourth grade, he was a good four inches taller than me, and my crush on him faded into a memory.

Then for two years, I lusted heavily for Mitch. In sixth grade, I developed a crush on a kid named Blaine. After that, I seemed to always have a crush on someone. I never acted on any of it. I might have actually passed algebra the first time if my mind hadn't been preoccupied all the time with sex. I got my first car when I was eighteen. I lost my virginity shortly after that. As soon as I had the ability to get out of the small town that I lived in, and into a place where no one knew me, I made it a habit to do so as often as possible. The first time that I ever had someone else's cock in my hand, my mouth, my ass, there was no going back for me. I wanted it all the time.

By the time I was twenty, I had stopped bottoming. Not because I didn't enjoy it. I had never had a bad experience. It was just easier on me. The kinds of liaisons that I had weren't conducive to taking it. I wanted to be able to get in, and get off, as quickly as possible. I had also discovered that the guys that I was most attracted to tended to be bottoms. I got a lot pickier about my partners. That wasn't difficult. Before then, I was fucking anyone that showed an interest. I didn't care what they looked like. There were many nights that I had multiple partners in a night. I was young, well built, attractive, and unquestionably eager. Things changed for me when I began to realize that I could do the choosing. I didn't need to wait for someone to notice me. Guys, the ones I thought were hot, responded to me when I approached them. I was the cock of the walk. My playing field narrowed to dark haired, twenty-somethings who were trim, pretty, and shorter than me. One would think that would reduce my available options. Not so. I never found a deficit of willing men to choose from.

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byTrahi© 7 comments/ 13220 views/ 16 favorites

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