Straight Through - Paul and Brandon

"Is this what you wanted?" Brandon asked. "Is this why you've been coming to me three times a week?"

Oh shit.

He started pumping me harder. His hand was so much bigger and rougher than anything I'd experienced before. And it felt great. He could freakin' palm me, anytime. Like forever.

I groaned.

"I asked you a question, Paul," Brandon said.

"What?" I rasped.

"Is this part of the reason why you took lessons? Because you wanted me to palm you? To blow you? To FUCK you?"

Oh shit, how did I answer that?

"Y-yeah. P-part of the reason," I said.

"Well then you're getting your wish now, aren't you?" he said.

I didn't answer because he started kissing his way down my chest and stomach and side and the direction he was going had my mind anticipating Candyland. It was hard to understand words as he pushed down my pants.

"Or was your wish to do all those things to me?" Brandon asked.

All of a sudden it was impossible to breathe. I was gasping and trying to suck air.

Then Brandon slid his hands all the way down my thighs, taking my jeans and boxers down slowly. He had to take my boots off and he tossed them aside and yanked my pants off. Finally I was completely naked and he was totally dressed and he sat back.

"Well, this is different for you, isn't it?" he said.

I nodded.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

"I'm too fucking brain scrambled to think like or dislike," I said. "I only have 'Fuck yeah, fuck fuck yeah, and oh shit fuck fuck yeah."

"Well which one are we at now?" Brandon asked.

"I think I lost track," I said.

He laughed.

Brandon bit the inside of my ankle. Snaked his hands up the inside of my thighs and put one big hand right back on my cock.

Brandon wrapped his palm around me and squeezed. He kissed my thigh and pulled my cock up in one smooth stroke and I came. All over my stomach.

NO!

"Oh, shit," I said.

Brandon chuckled and stood up. "I'll get you a towel," he said.

My face flushed furiously with shame. I grabbed my undershirt and mopped frantically with one hand while pulling up my pants with another.

Brandon came back in just as I had finished shoving my feet in my boots. Leaving them unlaced I grabbed my flannel shirt and my jacket and headed to the door. Brandon beat me to it, putting a hand flat on the door just as I was reaching for the knob.

"Whoa, whoa," Brandon said.

"Listen, I'm sorry, Man," I said staring at his hand on the door and not at him. "That whole pre-mature pop off thing hasn't happened since like high school. Fuck, middle school maybe. I was just so wound up and nervous and yeah well... whatever. Sorry. Let's pretend this never happened."

I grabbed the door knob.

"Fuck. That."

I looked at him. He smiled at me. It was the goofy grin, friendly guy smile, nothing sexual about it.

"See? This is what I get for not tying you down. I walk out of the room for a second and you try to run away from me."

I couldn't help smiling back at him.

He punched me lightly in the arm.

"So you came a few seconds before you wanted to?" he said and he leaned into me and bit my neck. "That's like the best compliment ever."

Brandon took a little step back and then bumped his right shoulder into my left and grinned again. "It's not like you came in your pants when you walked in the door. Cut yourself some slack. No need to go running off into the cold without your shirt on, you'll freeze your nipples off."

Brandon grabbed me by the elbow and led me back in the room. He pushed me down into the chair I usually sat in during lessons. He leaned over until his lips were right at my ear. "Besides," he whispered in a low raspy tone that was all sex, "I haven't said 'class dismissed'."

BAM. I was hard again. Blood zooming downward. Head, zero, flow to the cock? Infinity plus 60.

He put my guitar on my lap.

What?

Brandon sat down in his usual chair and picked up one of his acoustic guitars, the big one with the folksy sound. He played a riff. He started very slowly, speeding up gradually as he went along. It was some pop glam metal tune from the late 80s. It sounded familiar but I couldn't quite place it, the way he was strumming. He sped it up a little. My brain struggled, random words coming back to me to match the music... in my old man's Ford, something, something, drive in... something, something screaming for more...

Brandon paused, looked at me to see if I recognized the song yet. I didn't. He sped it up to tempo, un-folksy-ed it and added a rock edge. Came to the chorus.

And all of a sudden I got it. 'Talk Dirty To Me' by Poison.

I burst out laughing.

"Nothing like a vision of guys in heavy eyeliner, multicolor spandex, and Jersey hair, laughing while doing forward somersaults into the camera to crack you up," Brandon said.

"Play this," he said fingering the one hard line in the song, the one that comes in the main chorus after they say 'talk dirty to me'. Doon nun nun nah, Doon nun nun nah, doo doo doo doo.

I watched his hands and then looked down at my own, staring hard in concentration trying to get my fingers to play the riff.

Then Brandon moved fast and I felt something around my neck.

Brandon's belt.

He slid it where he wanted it until it was snug and he was holding the edge like a leash.

Fuck.

"Now put your fingers like this," he said in the same voice he used to give me guitar instructions. He held his hands up in front of him, his forefingers and thumbs together as if he were holding something small.

I mimicked him, putting my arms up and my fingers out like I was holding up a coin by the edges. A quarter maybe.

He moved in close until he was standing between my legs.

He moved until the snap above his fly went right into the space in between my fingers. It wasn't a quarter I was holding, it was a button.

Fuck.

"Undo it," he said. That wasn't his instructor voice, it was deeper, a domineering commander voice. Forceful. Dominant. I obeyed it automatically.

"Un-zip me," he said.

I did.

He wasn't wearing underwear. He was partially hard already, his dick straining against the zipper as I got it down.

A sharp lick of fear pierced my chest. My eyes darted around and as my heart constricted. I was worried that fear might bubble up and over into all out panic.

"Just breathe," Brandon said in a very low tone. "Control your breath. Let your stomach pooch way out," he said. "Breathe in slowly, hold it, and then breathe out even slower."

I did.

He tightened up the make-shift collar around my neck.

I don't know if it was the collar or the breathing or his calm tone but the panic passed.

Brandon put his hand in my hair and made a fist.

"Now take it out and lick the underside. Just barely touching, one long lick from the base to the ridge."

I looked up at him. Our eyes met and he nodded.

I looked at his cock again. My God, was I really going to touch it? There would be no going back. I looked up at his face again; his expression was gently encouraging but not eager.

"You can do it, Paul," he whispered. "Nice and slow."

I pulled his jeans down about an inch and just stared.

He let go of the fist of hair he was holding and pet my hair, stroking it softly instead of having a fist hold.

"It's like jumping off the high diving board Paul," Brandon said. "You hesitate too long you're going psych yourself out."

He grabbed my bottom jaw and squeezed, which forced my mouth slightly open.

"LICK. ME."

I leaned forward, barely an inch or two. I stuck my tongue out, just the tip, and very tentatively pressed it to the underside of his cock and licked upward. The tiniest of strokes.

It didn't taste like anything. I didn't really feel anything. The skin was soft. What was under it was rock hard.

"Good. Put the tip in your mouth and blow me," Brandon said.

I looked up at him.

"Do it." He tightened the collar.

I put my mouth around the head of his cock and slid my lips down an inch until the tip hit the roof of my mouth. The angle was all wrong, but it was exciting. And BANG, I was hard before, but I was diamond hard now.

I pushed his pants down farther, I slid one hand around to his ass, trying to get him further in, but it was impossible.

"Fuck, you're too high, get down on the floor. Christ, Paul, kneel on the floor. Shit, KNEEL."

Without letting go of him, faster than I thought possible, I obeyed, my knees smacking the floor, hard. All of a sudden I could suck more of him in, his cock hitting the back of my throat. Fuck. He was long and it was kind of painful but I didn't care. I tightened up the suction on him. It was so freaking marvelous I was worried I was going to bust a gut my blood pressure spiked so fast.

"You're still too... urgh...fuck...you're so tall you're still too fucking high," Brandon kicked my knees, using his foot to gently push my legs apart. "Open your legs apart."

I did. I tilted my head to look up at him and his cock slid all the way down my throat. HOLY FUCK! YES!

I started sucking him as hard as I could, fucking him with my mouth. I grabbed his ass with one hand and the back of his thigh with the other, cranking down with my hands, slamming him into me.

Brandon's hands were on the back of my head, ever so lightly, but I was completely in control. He was moaning, this strange low guttural sound. I looked up and his head was thrown back, mouth open, face slack.

Something primal clicked in me. Something snapped.

I let go off him. Threw him to the ground. Pulled his pants down further. Faster than I thought possible I was on top of him. Grabbing him. I had my hand under his chest, my cock rubbing in the valley at his ass.

"Stop."

I couldn't hear him. Blood was thundering in my ears. My pulse was racing. He was talking but I had no idea what he was saying. I thought I heard something. It might have been English.

"Paul, stop."

It might have been don't stop. I don't know.

I put the tip of my cock at his hole. God, plunging in was going to be the sweetest thing in my life.

I got an elbow in the ribs.

I blinked.

Brandon rolled me off him.

"Hey, Paul, stop."

I blinked furiously, coming out of my haze. Oh my God. Of course he wanted me to stop. We weren't fucking gay. What the fuck was I thinking? Answer. I wasn't thinking.

"Oh my God man. I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened. I was like possessed or something for a minute there. I wasn't thinking. I don't know what came over me."

"Shut up. Wait a second," Brandon said. He popped up off the floor. Pulling his pants up a little as he walked away.

I concentrated on deep breaths.

I looked down at myself. Shit. I was drooling a little. I still had a belt around my neck. I took it off. I wasn't wearing a shirt. My chest was shining a little, a subtle sheen from a thin layer of sweat.

Brandon came back in the room with a bunch of condoms, a bottle of lube, and a wicked smile on his face.

"Now. Where were we?"

"Holy shit," I said.

"Oh yeah," Brandon said. "We were about to be fucking. Hey, who said you could take that belt off? You think you're dominant all of sudden because you're going to be on top?"

I couldn't tell if he was joking. I couldn't tell if I should go back to panic. He put the belt back around my neck. He tightened it up and bit my bottom lip.

"You ready to fuck, Bitch?"

BAM. Hard.

"Yeah," I said.

"Let's do it," he said. He grabbed my cock and pumped a few times nice and slowly. I growled. Actually growled. I felt the air rush out my nostrils, like I was some wild animal. A dragon or something.

I knocked him down again and pretty soon we were back where we were. And I was in the haze again, just as hot as before, my body burning up, all that I could think off was that I had to bury my cock in something.

I got the condom on, quicker than lightning. I squeezed the lube into his crack but it didn't drip down like I thought it would. It didn't seem to go enough where it needed to go. If he were a girl I would have just rubbed it around with my fingers. But seeing as he wasn't a woman, that seemed a little yuck to be touching too much with my fingers so I paused, not sure what to do.

I thought of it at the same time he said, "Put some on your dick."

I squirted a whole bunch on myself, rubbed it around which made me even harder, which didn't seem possible. I positioned myself and paused.

Shit, I'm a virgin at this, aren't I.

"It's better if you do it fast," Brandon said. "One long stroke."

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I grabbed the side of his hips and squeezed down hard. And with a lighting fast strike I drove myself in as hard as I could, all the way to the hilt.

God, I'd never done this with a woman either.

I waited again until he adjusted. And then he squeezed. Hard. All those muscles sheathing and wrapping, squeezing, hugging, and caressing my cock and I was worried I was going to lose it right there.

"Breathe, Man," Brandon said.

I took a deep breath and let it out as slowly as I could.

He laughed.

"You can move now, Paul," he said.

"Nah-ah. I don't think so. I blew my load too early once already tonight. Not going to happen again."

He wiggled. Pressing his ass back against me.

"Okay. I. Might." I said.

I grabbed him around his waist and hauled him up until he was on his knees and started pounding into him. I was merciless. I figured he was a guy. A tough strong guy, he could take it.

He was grunting, but not complaining.

I heard myself saying, as if it was somebody else, "I. OWN. You."

Brandon laughed. "Yes, completely. And at the same time, no fucking way."

My heart rate spiked. I grabbed that long hair of his. I remembered a phrase I had heard somewhere. To top from the bottom. Yeah, I don't think so. I didn't think it was possible but I fucked him harder.

"Fuck, Paul, yeah," he said. Then after a while, "Faster."

I listened, obeying him, increasing speed until I was driving into him at a frantic pace. I was sweating, breathing through my mouth. Then I grit my teeth, trying my hardest not to come. My shoulders tensed up and my toes curled but I was determined not to come before he did.

I reminded myself that I had come already once tonight. Surely I could wait.

No, maybe not.

I wanted this to be about him too.

I couldn't wait much longer. I had to make him come.

I reached around and grabbed his cock and started pumping him, furiously, without letting up on my thrusting.

"Come Brandon," I yelled. "Come. NOW!"

Brandon grabbed my flannel shirt and came into it with a huge load. I was too turned on to care. I came, only a second after him.

Holy mother of God.

A second later I started laughing hysterically. I couldn't help it.

I flopped us both over onto our sides, still connected. Then we were both laughing.

"That was the best sexual experience of my life," I said. "Hell, the best experience of my life."

He laughed harder.

He held up his hand parallel to the floor and made the so-so motion.

I punched him in the arm.

He laughed even more.

"Dude," he said.

I smiled. He was chill. Still a guy's guy. We were still okay. Thank God.

He pulled my arm around him slightly and I rested it lightly near his chest.

I wondered. Did this make me gay? Did I still like girls? I leaned up to ask Brandon.

"Um," I said.

"Yeah Straight Boy," he said obviously getting the direction of my thoughts. "One experience doesn't make you gay. It makes you a guy who wanted to experiment."

"What about you?" I asked.

"Bisexual, predominantly heterosexual," he said.

I thought about it. Hhm.

"You don't need to put labels on it though. You can work through it on a case by case basis."

"Hhm," I said, and rested my head back on the floor and snuggled in closer to him.

"You weirded out?" Brandon asked.

I thought about it. "No," I said. "I feel satisfied and 'hell yeah'."

"Good," he said. "You still want to take lessons?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

"Bi. Mostly hetero," I said. "Sounds about right."

"Like I said, you don't have to put a label on it," Brandon said.

I stroked a hand down his waist. The idea of being with another guy made me a little sick to my stomach.

"Not bisexual mostly hetero," I said. "Brandon-sexual and hetero."

He turned around and smiled at me.

"Because I definitely want a repeat," I said.

"Any time Lumberjack," he said. Then after a beat he said with an even bigger grin, "Like now?"

"Not unless you want to kill me," I said.

He bit my bottom lip softly. Then he got up and returned with a fresh T-shirt for me. I looked at it. It was a T-shirt for his band. Cool.

"I'll wash your stuff," he said gesturing toward my undershirt and flannel over shirt. "You can pick them up at the next lesson."

"Cool," I said.

"And I'll teach you more and more sexual deviations," he said.

My eyeballs rolled up in my head. "At least I'll die happy," I said. "Hey Man, you ever watch Two and a Half Men?"

"What? No. I'm a Big Bang Theory man all the way," Brandon said.

I couldn't tell if he was joking with me.

Bastard.

A sex God with a sense of humor. I couldn't wait until next time.

# # #

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