Thanks for all the alerts and reviews and favorites and warm fuzzies. You guys are amazing and I love you all.
Thanks to the usual suspects: sadtomato for always finding a way for me to add more smut, TippyL for being my own personal proud momma cheerleader, and MeteorMuse for betaing and challenging me to use words other than fuck or cock in every sentence. ILY all SFM.
SMeyer owns Twilight. If I did, the Breaking Dawn fight scene would have instead been one big slashy fuckfest.
ooOOoo
9:53 a.m. Tuesday morning. I'm walking across campus to my next class and dreading every step when I hear my name being called from across the way.
"Edward! Hey! Hey Edward! Hold up, man!"
I turn hesitantly. I don't quite recognize the voice, and I really don't want to get caught up in a conversation about a lecture or some other bullshit, so I'm taken completely by surprise when I see Garrett jogging toward me. He looks different than the other day. Instead of the sweaty shorts and tennis shoes from my memory, he's wearing jeans and a polo not unlike my own, and his hair has some kind of product in it making it curl a little in all these different directions. He looks good. He looks … gay. My dick hardens just at the thought.
I slow my steps and wait for him with a grin on my face, hoping I don't look eager. The last thing I need is for him to think I have some crush after only meeting him once.
"Hey man," he says, catching his breath easily. "Where you headed?'
"Eh, I have class at ten in A&S, so I'm just heading over that way. How about you?"
"I'm off for the next hour. Tuesdays and Thursdays at this time I usually grab a cup of coffee with a friend of mine, but she bailed on me today, so I guess I'll just wander." Garrett's voice is so relaxed and confident, the actual words he says feel like an afterthought. I'm so lost in his gentle tone, the lazy way 'coffee' and 'wander' roll off his tongue, that there's an awkward pause before I realize he's expecting me to respond. Conversation. Small talk. Right.
"Oh, that's cool. I didn't catch your major the other day?" I phrase it as a question, trying to hide my disappointment once I've processed the mention of his regular female coffee date.
"Architectural Engineering. I'm only a sophomore though, so the course load isn't heavy yet. You?" I'm looking at him as he speaks, and now I'm mesmerized by his lips, not just his voice. They are the perfect shade of pink, and I have to force myself not to lean closer to see if he's wearing chapstick. Instead, I take a deep breath and respond.
"I'm pre-journalism, hoping for the magazine sequence. It's just my first year, but I tested out of a ton of pre-reqs last year, so I'm technically a sophomore, too. One perk of private prep school, I guess."
"I thought Jazz said you were Interior Design or something? I must have heard him wrong."
"No, not really wrong. My mom runs an interior design magazine back home. Someday, hopefully, I'll be there with her. I'd love to design jobs on the side though. That'd be a dream scenario."
Just as I stop in front of the entrance to the Arts and Science building, I realize he's been talking to Jasper about me and feel a pang of regret that we are about to part ways. I suddenly have so many things to ask him. "So, I guess I should head in."
"Yeah … unless … I mean, would you want to skip out and get some coffee?" The confidence of his voice from earlier has faded, and he looks at me expectantly, hopefully. The boy is asking me to coffee. Me. Him. Coffee.
"I love coffee," I blurt out. It's barely left my mouth before I'm cringing and ducking my head in embarrassment. Why do I always have to sound like such an idiot around hot guys?
"I actually hate coffee … but I love good conversation." His voice is soft, almost sweet, but his confidence has returned at my eagerness.
Oh God. Is he flirting? I lift my eyes from the pavement and force myself to look him in the eye. People are pushing all around us, trying to get in and out of the building we stand in front of, and I want to grab one of them by the sleeve and ask them if he's flirting with me.
"Oh. Um, cool. Well there's that new Starbucks right at the edge of campus or there's –ˮ
"What about Jazz and Ri's place? What's it called? Koala? Dakota? Something?" Out of nowhere, I feel a twinge of guilt in my stomach.
"Lakota. Um, we should probably go someplace closer. I definitely can't skip out on my 11:00 too."
"Okay, sure. Starfucks it is."
"Did you just say Starfucks?" I chuckle a little at his choice of words, but my mind instantly wants to put his voice saying the word 'fuck' on repeat.
"Yeah. You know, corporate America? Charging five bucks for a cup of sludge? Putting all the local shops out of business? Come on, everyone's heard it called Starfucks." He grins and elbows me gently in the side.
"No. Not everyone. But I have to admit, it's clever." I glance his way with a smile, and he's looking at me. Like, looking looking. Okay, this is definitely entering flirting territory. Right? Fuck, my dick's getting hard.
He breaks our stare first by turning in the direction of Starbucks, and I follow quickly to catch up with his long stride. I had noticed he was tall during our game Saturday, but I didn't fully appreciate how long his legs are. The boy walks like he's on a runway, with a smooth, confident gait. I try to match him step for step but end up looking like a kid trying to miss all the sidewalk cracks, so I give up and hurry my pace to keep up.
It's only about a five minute walk, but I'm suddenly nervous about talking to him. Spending time together like … friends. Yeah, friends.
I don't have long to be nervous because he busts into questions about my past immediately. It doesn't take long to tell him all about my small family and my less-than-eventful life so far, but before I know it, we're stepping up to the counter to order.
"I'll have a Strawberry Vivanno Smoothie, and he wants a … what do you want, E?" Garrett turns to me, waiting for my answer, wallet in hand.
My head is screaming, "YOU. I want YOU!" and I'm shocked at my natural response, but I find it in me to muster, "Um, I'll just have a coffee."
Garrett smirks and rolls his eyes playfully. "They have, like, two hundred different coffee options, man. Can you be more specific?"
Now, here's the thing. If it were anyone else, I'd probably order a Grande Pick of the Day, black, and sip that disgusting shit politely, but for some reason, I feel comfortable in my less-than-manly coffee tastes. I feel comfortable being me. So I clear my throat, speak up and say, "Sorry. I'd like a Grande Iced Caramel Macchiato with an extra shot of espresso. Please."
"Now that is a coffee order," Garrett says while handing the barista his debit card. Then he turns to look me straight in the eyes and slowly, very boldly, says, "What. A. Mouthful."
I think my mouth is hanging open, but I'm too dazed to close it. I'm frozen to the overpriced, artfully-stained concrete floor, and I definitely have a hard-on.
After Garrett grabs our drinks and a few napkins from the far end of the counter, he catches my eye and nods toward a few cozy chairs over by the windows. With a deep breath, I start to walk that way, pausing next to the refill station to discreetly adjust myself.
"So, where are you from?" I figure it's my turn to learn a little about him, so I waste no time asking once I've settled in my chair with my drink.
"Ohio actually. I got some offers from a few D1 schools, but I wanted a good education too, so I came here hoping to walk-on. I didn't make the final cut, but it's no big deal. I got a good academic scholarship that helps make up for the out-of-state tuition, and I can still shoot some hoops on the side. Know what I mean?"
I didn't have a clue what he meant. D1? Walk-on? I must be looking at him like he's grown a third head because he laughs and then clarifies.
"Basketball, Edward. I wanted to play college ball. For a Big 12 school, this one surprisingly still offers walk-on tryouts, so I gave it a shot. By the time I found out I wouldn't be playing, I'd already sorta fallen in love with the town and the school, so I decided to come here regardless. And my parents were swayed by the chunk of change I was awarded. So, here I am."
"Here you are." Right here. Having sort-of coffee. With me. I scramble for something else to discuss and remember his major. "So, Architectural Engineering. That's intense. You want to design commercial or residential?"
"Residential. I want to work for myself designing houses, but also own a contracting company to build them and actually see my ideas become tangible. There's nothing better than working with your hands to create something beautiful out of what starts as little more than a pile of wood and bricks."
There's something sensual about the way he describes his goals. I don't know if it's the way his voice raises slightly or the passion of his hand gestures as he talks, but it's such a turn on. I'm feeling so many different things sitting her talking with him, so I have to know. For sure.
"Wow. Athletic, smart, clear goals for the future … you must be quite the catch for some girl." I look Garrett in the eye, the most assured I've been in our entire encounter, and he chuckles slightly under his breath.
"Oh, E. I'm not so sure it's some girl I want to catch me." His relaxed tone is back, and he's looking at me like, well, frankly like he wants me to get on my knees and blow him right here, right now.
Fuck.
ooOOoo
12:21 p.m. It's lunch time. I've missed two classes more than I intended to today, but I can't bring myself to care. I walk through the line in the Union and grab some cheesy breadsticks. Not the healthiest option, but the best thing here and something to ease the coffee jitters. That extra shot might not have been the best idea.
Coffee with Garrett was nice. Nice enough that I did end up skipping out on my 11:00 class so we could talk more. Nice is the word I'm making myself use in my head so I don't get carried away and convince myself that he wants to marry me and adopt a bunch of little basketball-playing babies. Coffee was nice, and he is nice, and maybe we will have another nice time some day.
Maybe he thought it was nice too, because he gave me his number. I grin at the thought and stick my hand in my jeans pocket to make sure the napkin is still there. As if it would have fallen out.
I roll my eyes at myself and find a spot in the corner to quickly eat my breadsticks before going to work out at the Rec.
I pull the napkin out of my pocket before sitting down and stare at it while eating, careful not to drip marinara on it.
For a good time, call me.
-G
Below that is his phone number and a ridiculously silly smiley face, complete with stuck-out tongue and wiggly eyebrows. The irony is not lost on me that he used the same phrase that I used when giving my number to Jasper. It's a pretty common phrase, but still. He has no idea what kind of good time I could show him.
ooOOoo
6:08 p.m. I'm late and half-jogging down the sidewalk toward downtown. I was supposed to meet Jasper for dinner at 6:00, and I lost track of time at my house. Who knew masturbating in the shower would take seven minutes? Jeez.
I rush through the doors of Addison's, the locally-owned, always-crowded restaurant he chose, and immediately spot him at the bar. Making my way through the throng of people, I try to catch his eye but he's texting on his phone and doesn't look up.
"Hey," I say, as I reach his side and slump on the stool next to him. "Sorry I'm late."
"Edward, my man! Don't you worry your sweet little buns. I got us on the list for a table, and ordered you a beer. No hard liquor. Just a Fat Tire and a smile."
"Thanks. I appreciate it." I reach for the beer and take a sizeable swig.
"So. Jackin' off keep you from leaving the house on time?"
I nearly spew my beer across the bar. "What? No. I mean, I – I was showering and stuff and the time got away from me." I'm rambling. I should just shut up.
"Yeah. Showering. I know how it is, man. Living alone, horny as fuck all the time, a lot of showering takes place. Just sayin'." Jasper gives me a sly grin, then takes a drink from his bottle.
"Well, whatever you say, Jazz. Sorry I'm late."
Just then a hostess comes to let us know our table is ready, so we settle up at the bar and follow her to a table. Once we are situated with our menus and drink orders, I ask Jasper where Riley is for sure. He said dinner would just be the two of us but never gave specifics in his texts earlier.
"Oh, he meets with his mom almost every Tuesday night for dinner. Kinda their thing since he moved out on his own a year or so ago. I think she's lonely. I join them sometimes, but mostly I just let him go do the family thing."
"Cool. I wish my mom was close enough to have dinner with. She's great." I decide on a steak salad to counteract the cheesy breadsticks from lunch and close my menu. "It'd be nice to have her closer."
"Yeah, I think gay men are momma's boys through and through. I know I can't have a conversation with mine without her turning on the waterworks and guilt tripping me about coming home." Jasper takes another drink of his beer and swallows.
Our waitress comes to take our order, and despite how busy the place seems, our food arrives shortly after. My steak salad looks amazing, but I try not to look at Jasper's medium rare "Super Deluxe Happy Fun Time Burger". Yes, that is the ridiculous fucking name, and it's practically bleeding all over his plate. Sick.
We spend the meal making small talk, getting to know more about each other. It's nice, in a way, to know more about him than the fact that he has an enormous cock and likes to talk dirty.
I find out that he plays guitar, loves Mexican food, and apparently prefers a bloody burger to a well done steak. Above all though, he really, truly seems to be in love with Riley. Every anecdote includes him in some form, he gets text messages from him throughout the entire meal (which I find endearing rather than rude), and he tells me they have plans to move to Austin once they've saved up some cash and spent a few more years close to Riley's mom.
Instead of the pangs of sadness I felt the entire cab ride home Saturday night, I feel nothing but happiness now, glad that they have found just what they need in each other. The only pangs I have are for myself. I've seen glimpses of what Riley and Jasper share, and I want that too. I want someone to do laundry with on Friday night, someone to make breakfast in bed for on Sunday morning, someone to have plans with for the future. Garrett flashes through my head, but I quickly push him aside. I've only just met the guy, and it's probably nothing more than a crush. I'm sure I'll learn that he has a crazy sock fetish in due time.
The last text message Jazz receives is a request that we meet Riley at RagTag, a movie theater/bar that typically draws the hippie and hipster crowd, so we argue over the check. I win, telling J he can buy me a few drinks later. The fewer chances I have to take on getting carded for ordering a round of beers, the better.
As we're leaving the restaurant, Jazz holds the door open for me, but it's almost not quite wide enough to get by. I slide past him awkwardly, and the fucker grabs my ass and growls in my ear. I glance at my phone to check the time. 7:42. The night is young.
ooOOoo
9:27 p.m. After a few beers in the bar, Riley complains about how loud it is enough times that Jasper and I agree to actually see a movie. This place is set up so that you can take your beer right into the theater with you. Each theater room is only about half the size of a typical place, with the front three rows consisting of thrift store couches and chairs, followed by standard rows of stadium theater seating.
Riley and I follow Jasper as he leads us all the way up the steps to the back row. "I don't like craning my neck," he explains, so I let Riley in front of me to sit next to Jazz, then settle into my seat.
The thing about RagTag is that they only play two movies at a time, and they only play independent films and limited release stuff. Choices are very limited, and often, you end up seeing something that fucks with your head or is in another language at best.
So when the screen comes on announcing we are there to see a presentation of the Oscar Nominees for Animated Short Film, Riley and I exchange a confused look and then bust up laughing.
"Seriously, J? Are you kidding me with this?" I ask over Riley's laughter.
"What? It was this or I Love You Phillip Morris. I'm not even about to watch Jim Carrey try to be gay." Jasper, as always, has no apologies for his actions and settles back with his beer, eyes on the screen.
As the lights dim, I realize there are only a handful of other people in the room, and they've all opted for the couches in the front. This could get … interesting, if I know anything at all about Jasper.
As the first short comes on, I try to keep my eyes trained on the screen. It's hard though. Jasper has put his arm across the back of Riley's seat, and is stroking my shoulder with a single finger. Slowly, he makes patterns on my arm that are so sensual I wish there was no shirt forming a barrier between our skin. My cock stiffens slightly, but I take a deep breath in and blow it out steadily. Nothing will happen here, right? We're in public. Out in the open. Right.
I go back to watching the screen, but now Jasper is whispering something in Riley's ear. It's just soft enough that I can't hear his words, but I can hear the low hum of his voice. I'm curious, wondering what they are discussing, but try to focus on the movie.
Suddenly, Riley reaches over to pull up the armrest between us, scoots closer to me and places his hand firmly on my inner thigh. He strokes gently. Up. Down. He circles around and closer to my crotch with each pass.
After a few long minutes of thigh massaging, Jasper nudges him from the other side, and he slides down the seat onto the floor. He's on his knees, and he turns his entire body toward me, looking me in the eye boldly. A chill runs down my spine as he stops rubbing my thigh and places his hand directly over my cock. What. The. Fuck.
I look over at Jasper, trying not to panic, and he winks. "Just go with it, E," he whispers.
With a deep breath, I look back at Riley. He meets my gaze, then slowly lowers his head and lifts the hem of my shirt slightly. When his lips meet my stomach, I suck in a huge breath. Fuck.
"Shhh, now Edward. Quiet down. He's not gonna bite." Jasper leans over the now-empty seat in between us and lowers his voice. "But I know you're gonna love the way he sucks." His lips graze my earlobe as he talks, and I shiver. Oh my God. I can't do this. There's absolutely no way I can do this in public.
Riley is placing light open-mouthed kisses all along the waistband of my jeans, as he places his palm back over my erection and gently rubs. The soft friction is driving me out of my mind, and I groan with pleasure.
"Riley. Fuck," I whisper through clenched teeth, throwing my head back.
With the hand on my crotch, he quickly unbuttons my jeans and reaches in to free me from my boxer briefs. The warmth of his palm contrasts with the coolness of his fingers, and he takes me firmly, attempting to stroke upward but catching slightly from the dryness. I look down just in time to see him take only the very end in his mouth. He looks up at me while swiping the tip of his tongue over the head of my dick, and I swear he looks like the happiest guy in the world. Content. Comfortable on his knees. Jesus, his lips were made for this.
I moan as softly as possible and place my right hand tentatively on the back of his neck, rubbing slowly, encouragingly. Riley slides his tongue along my shaft then my eyes follow his to Jasper, who is still draped over the empty seat between us, watching intently.
"Oh fuck." I should have never looked away. Riley has taken the opportunity to catch me off guard and takes my entire length down quickly, then pulling back off just as fast.
"That's it baby. Take him all the way in that pretty mouth of yours. Just like I told you to. That's it. Fuck, that's hot. Don't stop." As Jasper rambles on about what Riley is doing, all I can do is feel. He's working my cock up and down, every pass using a little more suction than the last. He's got one hand at the base of my dick and the other on my inner thigh, keeping me from squeezing my legs together, and his mouth … shit. His mouth feels like the best fucking thing to ever touch me. Ever. It might be the fact that I'm trying to look like I'm not getting blown in the middle of a small movie theater, but every sensation seems intensified. I slide down lower in my chair and give myself over to the feeling.
Just then, Riley takes the hand from my leg and gently puts it farther down in my boxer briefs, pulling out my balls and rolling them gently. Fuck. I'm not going to last long if he keeps doing that shit.
I squeeze his neck a bit more urgently, and he pulls off of my cock. He looks up at me, I assume to make sure I'm alright, and then lowers his head again. Instead of going for my head, though, he goes further south and ever so softly, so gently, takes one ball in his mouth and gently sucks.
"Oh shit, that looks so good. Are you gonna do that for me later, Ri? You gonna suck my cock and then my balls, baby. Shit." Jasper is staring at us through hooded eyelids and palming himself over his jeans. He arches up into his hand with every stroke and makes these soft closed-mouthed moaning sounds.
Between watching Jazz dry-hump his hand and Riley moving back to focus on the head of my dick, I only last a few more seconds before hissing, "I'm coming. Fuck … I'm coming."
Riley simply looks up at my face from beneath his eyelashes and swallows down the entire time.
"I can't even … shit. I can't even fucking begin to say what that felt like. Fuck," I whisper, throwing my head back against the seat I've slumped down in. I open my eyes long enough to look down at Riley, who simply winks at me while wiping the side of his mouth, then tucks me in, zips me up, and pats my crotch before returning to his seat.
"Now that's what I call a mother fucking blow job." Jasper leans back in his own seat and throws an arm around Riley, pulling him in for a kiss. "Mmm, Edward. You taste good."
Jesus. Is it possible to be hard again?
ooOOoo
11:21 p.m. Jasper couldn't calm down after Riley's ridiculous – yet fucking amazing – display, so they cut out early on our 'movie' to go home and fuck.
"Sorry, E. I can't help it. I've got a woody the size of a Pringles can in these pants," Jazz jokes as they slide out of the aisle.
"I bet you do," I snicker, unable to muster the energy to be upset with them when he leaves me with that image in my head.
I try to watch, try to focus on the screen, but all I can think about is that I'd just had one of the best blow jobs I'd ever had in my life, and all that line of thought does is get me hard again. I sigh. Guess I'll go home and whack off. Again.
I make my way out of the still-darkened theater and into the night, huddling down against the wind as I start the walk home. These first few days of November have been cold, and I forgot my coat in my rush to leave the house earlier. I can't help but wish someone was walking me home, so I close my eyes and imagine an arm wrapped around my shoulders. Cuddling into that would be perfect right about now.
Brrr. I open my eyes again and shove my hands in my pockets, picking up my pace a bit. My hand wraps around something small and crinkly. What the hell?
I pull it out at the same time I remember Garrett scrawling his number on a napkin earlier today, complete with a cartoon face. Garrett, who made my stomach flutter and my hopes soar. Garrett, all-American boy from Ohio with interests that compliment my own so well. Garrett, who has no idea I just got blown in a movie theater while someone watched.
11:42. I wonder if it's too late to call.
ooOOoo
Is Garrett sitting around waiting for Edward's call? Will Edward call him? I'd love to hear your theories.
I'm hosting a fucking awesome contest called Eurofornication . net/u/2757436/ (remove the space) and while we don't have any entries posted yet, I've written a collab promotional piece with sadtomato that started posting TODAY. So get your ass over there and put that shit on alert!
I keep forgetting to mention that my locations are all real. Every one of them can be found at my alma mater, the scene of more crimes than I care to admit I've committed, and the place where I met my beloved kymberly80 (the only person I know who chows spicy peanuts when drunk). M – I – Z…
If you want a link to anywhere I've mentioned, let me know. If there's any interest in the visuals, I might post them on my profile.