CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I talked to Paul again late that evening on Skype and we planned for him to come back to New York at the weekend. I had already told Sarah I would spend Saturday with her, so Paul intended to get one of the afternoon trains and return home Monday night. He was due some vacation days and knew Andrew would have no problem with him taking one at short notice. We talked for an hour or so before things became heated and again we masturbated for each other. It was a decent enough release when we couldn't be together, but I longed for Saturday night to feel his hands on me for real, rather than only imagine it while he watched me.
At last the weekend arrived and I took Sarah to the movies to see a Disney production, then afterwards to dinner. By six-thirty we were back at the apartment to find Leah finishing up an extra study session.
"How's it going?" I asked her.
"Not bad, I'm quite enjoying it," she said. "Seems funny going back to school at twenty-eight, but it works."
"You really think you can cram the whole course into a year?"
"You know I can do anything I put my mind to, Jacob."
I stayed a few more minutes, but found myself repeatedly glancing at the clock, knowing Paul would be arriving very soon, if he wasn't in New York already. When I left I headed straight back to the gym, my heart pounding with excitement as I travelled on the subway and then jogged the short distance to the building. He had said he intended to make his way there in case I was held up with Sarah and when I arrived, I checked the gym itself before going up to the apartment, thinking I should probably have given him a key.
I took a quick walk around the main part of the gym, disappointed when I didn't see him in there, but then I decided to take a look into the offices and my pulse quickened as I heard his voice, laughing at something. He was leaning against the jamb in Edward's office doorway and I could see my manager the other side of him, red-faced and tugging a hand through his hair. Paul didn't even notice my appearance and I walked up behind him quietly and blew in his ear. He turned quickly and jerked me against him, unconcerned by Edward.
"Missed you." His lips ghosted over mine, but he didn't deepen it. I gave him a hug and stepped back.
"What are you doing, teasing Edward?"
"Couldn't help it. Sorry, Ed," he smirked. Edward rolled his eyes.
"Take him away, Jake. I'm sure you can think of something better for him to do than distracting me from my work."
Paul picked up the bag at his feet and followed me out and up the stairs to the apartment.
"How long have you been here?" I asked.
"Not long, about half an hour. I thought about working out, but I didn't know how long you'd be and I'd have been all sweaty..."
"That's a problem?" I grinned, fumbling with the key. "I like you sweaty."
"Fuck. Give me that; what the hell are you doing?" He reached around me, snatching the key from my hand and jamming it into the lock. His body pressed lightly against my back and I immediately felt the beginnings of an erection nudging my butt. We had restrained ourselves from Skyping Friday night and instead just talked on the phone and now, the feel of his growing excitement had blood rushing to my groin. By the time we had gotten the door open, stepped through and locked it again, I was half hard and I turned towards Paul, eager for his lips on mine.
"God, I missed you," I groaned and then his mouth smothered my words, tongue plunging in seeking mine as his arms snaked around me, one sliding low to my butt, pulling me in tight against him. I was wearing cargo shorts while he was in jog pants, neither garment hiding or holding back our excitement. Fabric tented around throbbing erections and I gyrated my hips, seeking friction against Paul's hard-on, moaning into his mouth. His lips left mine after a moment, moving to my neck instead, teeth grazing the flesh beneath my ear and making me shudder as he slid a hand between us and began to unfasten my pants.
"This fucking week has been torture," he growled. "Watching you fucking yourself with your fingers, coming all over yourself. I need to fuck you...right now."
"Please..." I moaned, taking my hands off of him to help shove my pants and underwear down my thighs. Paul took a small step back and pushed the jog pants down, revealing his usual lack of underwear, his cock straining upwards, quivering in anticipation. Grabbing his bag from the floor by his feet, he dug out lube and a condom. We were standing close to the couch and I turned away from him, leaning on the back of it with my legs as far apart as the pants around my knees would allow.
"Fuck..." Paul muttered. I heard the click of the cap on the lube and counted off the seconds until cool, slick fingers stroked between my legs, feeling for my hole and pushing firmly inside. I shuddered as two fingers curled upwards, thrusting deep as he began preparing me. His cock rubbed against my butt, the tip leaking and smearing pre-cum onto my skin, his breath coming in loud pants as he reached around me with his free hand and gave my aching erection a few firm pumps. If only my test results had come back already, I thought. I wanted to feel him so badly, but it was going to be at least another week, maybe two before we could do that.
I moaned as a third finger pushed into me, the hurried intrusion causing an uncomfortable burn and he slowed down, paying more attention to my cock for a moment before he continued stretching me.
"You ready?" he grunted after another minute or two.
"Yes...fuck me...please," I begged.
The fingers left me and I heard him putting on the condom, slicking himself in lube and then he was pushing into me, an inch at a time until his length was seated fully in me, one hand gripping my cock again and the other resting between my shoulder blades, pushing me down against the back of the couch. He began to move, slowly at first, but then more urgently, both hands leaving me to grip my hips instead for leverage as he began slamming into me. I lowered one hand and wrapped it around my throbbing shaft, barely needing to move it as the force of Paul shoving me forward against the couch with each thrust made my hips buck forwards and my cock pushed through my fist. His balls bounced against me, his cock grazing my prostate repeatedly; it was hard and fast and over almost before it started. I felt myself coming, incapable of holding back even for a few seconds, my ass tightening around him and pulling his own orgasm from him a moment later. He stayed in me for another minute, his hands slipping from my hips and encircling my waist, his upper body lowering until it rested against my back.
"Christ, Jake," he groaned. "I needed that. I'm sorry it was so rushed..."
"I liked rushed. I wanted you so bad," I panted.
He withdrew slowly and I straightened up, knees weak and took a step away from the couch. The evidence of my pleasure was dribbling down the leather surface and I peeled off my t-shirt to clean it up along with my cock and my hands, before pulling my pants back up. Paul disposed of the condom and adjusted his clothing, grinning and using the bottom of his shirt to wipe his damp face. Then he stepped close to me again and wrapped his arms around me.
"I didn't even say hello properly."
"I think your cock did that for you," I grinned. "Hello."
"Hey." His lips brushed over mine. "So, do you have anything to eat? I didn't want to get dinner on the train; it costs the earth and it's shit anyway."
I grinned and pushed him away from me. "I haven't anything prepared, but I can make you something if you want."
"You cook?" Paul raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, I cook, what do you think I live on?"
"I don't know, but you live above a cafeteria that you own; I guess I'd just be lazy if it were me."
"I don't do it that often," I admitted. "I make a mean spaghetti sauce though."
"Sounds good; sure you don't mind?"
"No, I'll probably have a little of it too - I had chicken nuggets with Sarah over two hours ago; I'm still a bit hungry."
"I'm gonna take a quick shower," Paul said, planting another warm kiss on the corner of my mouth before heading for the bathroom. Grinning, I went to my new kitchen, which I had only used a handful of times to actually cook properly. I knew I had a jar of sauce in the cupboard, but rather than take the easy option, I began chopping garlic, onions and tomatoes while ground beef browned in a pan. By the time Paul emerged from the shower, annoyingly dressed in only boxer briefs, the sauce was simmering and I had just put the spaghetti into boiling water.
"Damn you," I muttered, turning away from the stove. "I'm not gonna be able to look at anything else all night."
"I hope not."
"I'll take a quick shower too while that finishes cooking."
"No jerking off in there," Paul teased.
"I'm not sure I've got the energy right now," I said, but my cock quickly proved me wrong as I stood under the hot water, briskly scrubbing myself and thinking about Paul fucking me over the back of the couch. By the time I emerged from the bathroom wearing just underwear the same way he was, it was impossible to disguise my excitement, the tip of my erection peeking through the opening in the shorts.
"Holy hell," groaned Paul when he saw me. "I'm having you for dessert."
He did just that, after shovelling a vast quantity of spaghetti down his neck and proclaiming it the best he'd eaten, he finished up on his knees in front of me, my cock in his mouth and his own fucking his fist, painting the couch with cum once again.
The rest of his visit passed much too fast. Although we went to a ballgame Sunday, the rest of the time we spent in the apartment, talking, lounging around together, constantly touching, cuddling, stroking and kissing. Sometimes things progressed further, whether it involved only hands and mouths or full sex, but we seemed incapable of leaving each other alone. Even when we were too spent to so much as twitch, we were in contact with each other, sitting or lying close together or idly stroking the exposed skin of arms or backs or anything we could get to. I couldn't get enough of him and he made it clear that he felt the same. We were in love and I relished every second spent with him until eventually Monday night rushed upon us and it was time for him to leave. For that one day, Leah had taken Sarah to school and told me that Jasper would collect both girls afterwards. Sarah was going to do homework and have supper with Jeannie and Jasper would bring her home later.
I accompanied Paul to the station again and we waited, suddenly having nothing to say, as the train pulled in indicating it was time for us to part. It seemed a hundred times worse than saying goodbye to him the previous week. Now we were closer, more in love, more involved in every way and in addition the following weekend we weren't going to be able to see each other. Paul was taking another trip Thursday through Saturday, but it was to Seattle and by the time he returned to Boston it would be the early hours of Sunday morning. He would be jet-lagged and even though I could have gone to Boston this time, it wasn't practical for just a few hours when he would only want to sleep. Instead, we said goodbye reluctantly for the next eleven days, promising to make good use of Skype in the meantime.
The days passed painfully slowly and I thought more and more about our future. Where would we go from here? Paul told me he felt the same - he never missed telling me he loved me when we talked on the phone or Skyped and I wondered how we were going to work things out. It was still early days, but I was impatient for at least a plan as to how we would move forward, although I didn't broach the subject. It was still so early in our relationship, just weeks really since we began properly.
Thursday my letter finally arrived from the hospital, but I hadn't had chance to look at the mail before I logged onto Skype to talk to Paul that evening. He would be flying out early the next day to Seattle and we hadn't planned on any sexual fun that evening. He appeared fully dressed on my screen, a plate of food in front of him.
"Sorry to be eating, it's been a long day and I only just got around to getting something," he said. "Didn't want to wait any longer to see you though."
"That's ok. I've been busy too," I said. "My letter arrived." I picked up the envelope and held it where he could see it. "I haven't opened it yet."
"You're not worried about it, are you?" he asked. "You've no reason to be."
"No, I know that."
"Go on, then."
"Yeah." I did feel nervous as I tore open the envelope, but as I unfolded the sheet of paper inside, the one word I wanted to see was right there in front of me in large, black capital letters - negative. I turned it around the other way so that Paul could see it.
"See? What were you worried about?" he grinned. "Fuck, I can't believe we have to wait another eight days though." He shoved his plate aside suddenly and leaned forward towards the table his laptop rested on. "I have something to show you too. I was waiting until you got your letter." His face reappeared in front of the camera and then it was replaced with a sheet of paper. I peered at my screen, frowning as the letter came into focus, an almost identical one to mine, dated two days earlier the same way mine was and with a negative result. He had been tested again too. He put the letter down again and gave me another smile. "I know I've only been with you since the last test, but I wanted one I could show you."
"Wow, you didn't have to do that, I trust you," I said. "But thank you."
"No problem. Gonna be the longest fucking eight days in history now."
We hadn't yet decided on whether we would see each other in Boston or New York the next weekend, although I assumed I would go to Boston since Paul had done the travelling the last two times. However, when the next Thursday night finally crawled around and it was the last time we would talk before we saw each other, Paul told me he planned to come to New York again.
"I know I've been the last two times, but I don't know...I like your place better. I'll get there as early as I can tomorrow; I'm not working. Andrew gave me the day off in lieu of being in Seattle over part of the weekend."
"Awesome!" I exclaimed. If I'd gone to Boston, I wouldn't have been able to leave until after four o'clock, but with him travelling, he could leave at lunchtime.
"You want to go to that club again?" he suggested. "Much as I'm gonna want to fuck you the minute I get there, I want to at least make an effort at having some foreplay first. I don't want to rush it this time."
"Me neither," I agreed. The next time we fucked - made love - would be special; a first time for me and for him, something he hadn't done since he was in college. "In case you get here early, I'll leave a key to the apartment in my desk drawer," I told him. "I meant to give you one, actually."
We chatted a while longer, but there was no play that night. Instead we waited in anticipation to see each other the next evening. Later I slept fitfully, kept awake by my excitement over Paul's visit and a persistent and unrelieved erection, which in the end I was forced to take care of in my morning shower, rather than suffer through my day with a stubborn hard-on. I constantly glanced at the clock while I worked and at noon Paul sent me a text to tell me he was on his way to the station to catch a train. I had already arranged with Edward that I would be finishing work early that day, but for once he and Emmett didn't have plans for the evening. The pair were quite happy to stay at work and intended to have takeout delivered, for Collin as well as themselves.
By the time I had left Sarah, I had received another message from Paul to say that he was in my apartment and I hurried home as fast as the subway would allow, my heart racing. I had to remind myself that we were going to the Stonewall Inn first, as tempted as I was to simply beg Paul to take me to bed right away. I raced up the stairs and let myself in, finding him sitting on the couch watching TV and drinking one of my beers. He put the bottle down quickly and got to his feet, enveloping me in a hug as I rushed to him.
"God, it's been too long," I groaned and smothered any reply he might have made with a heated kiss. We clung to each other, lips crushed together, tongues toying with each other until the need to breathe finally forced us apart.
"Maybe we should just stay in," Paul said with a smirk.
"I would love to. But we were going to make an effort to not fall on each other like animals and actually have some foreplay," I reminded him.
"Plenty of time for that second time around."
"It'll be fun waiting and building up the excitement."
"Spoilsport," he grimaced. "Mine doesn't need building up; I'm dying to fuck your tight ass again and actually shoot my load in you."
"Jesus."
He chuckled evilly. "Is it working? Still wanna go out, or would you rather feel my cock in you right now? Feel me come?"
"Stop it. Two can play at that game, you know."
"Yeah and you can be a fucking tease, Jacob." Another grimace and then he smiled. "I want dinner anyway. Are we eating out?"
"I thought we'd try Thai," I smirked. "You know that restaurant you love so much with the soup and noodles and little things in batter than burn your mouth to hell?"
"You are joking."
"Of course I'm joking, I know you hate that shit. Mexican?"
"Better."
"You need to get changed or anything?"
"No, I did that already. Or do you just want to see me get naked?"
"Yeah, I do, but I won't be able to keep my hands off. I just need a quick change; I showered earlier." I went into my bedroom and left the door open, grinning to myself as I heard him groan in response to my rapid removal of clothes, replacing my faded jeans and t-shirt with black jeans and a white shirt. I shoved my feet into my shoes, picked up wallet, phone and keys and we set off, deciding to walk to a Mexican restaurant a few blocks away and then take the subway to the Stonewall Inn later.
We ate fajitas and drank beer, spending a couple hours in the restaurant and then moving to the bar until it was late enough to make our way to the club. I felt a pleasant buzz from the beer and reminded myself not to drink too much more and risk spoiling the evening. I doubted alcohol would affect my erection, but it would certainly affect my memory and I wanted to remember every second. Paul bought us more beer when we first arrived in the club, but when I returned to the bar some time later for refills, he clearly had the same idea I did.
"We better slow down or we're gonna wreck things for later."
"Soda?" I suggested.
"Yeah."
I bought two sodas and we made them last a while longer before we moved to the dancefloor, gyrating in each other's arms, the pumping music and the feel of each other's heated bodies serving to arouse us almost immediately. I had one arm slung around Paul's neck, the other hand inside his shirt tweaking at his nipple ring, making him growl into my ear, biting the lobe as he ground himself against me, his hard cock straining against his zipper and rubbing against my thigh. I was equally hard, thankful for the loose-fitting jeans I had chosen, giving me at least a little room. I was leaking into my shorts, my erection desperate to feel his hand or his mouth. His arms were resting around my waist, although one eventually slid lower to my butt, his fingers occasionally dipping between my legs, stroking and pressing against me until I became so frantic for release I had to push his hand off and step away.
"I'm gonna come in my pants if you keep that up," I said.
"Is there somewhere here we can go? Might be a good idea to relieve a bit of pressure. I want it to last when we get home."
"I don't know. Maybe we could try the bathrooms," I suggested.
Paul grasped my hand and had tugged me off the dancefloor before I could say anything else. We checked out the bathrooms and found all of the stalls locked, various degrees of sexual sounds coming from behind each door.
"Fuck," Paul muttered, backing out of the door again and pulling me with him. We turned to go back to the main part of the club, but then I spotted a door marked 'supplies' and tried the handle. It opened and the dim light shining from behind me revealed shelving stacked with handwash, toilet paper and other items. The space was small, but it was sufficient for us to make use of. Paul stepped in after me and pulled the door almost closed, leaving a gap so that we could see well enough when our eyes adjusted. Then he was on his knees in front of me, guiding my cock into his mouth while I clutched at a shelf with one hand and his head with the other. bucking my hips as he encouraged me to fuck his mouth.
"Christ, Paul, I'm almost there," I groaned in just a few short minutes.
"Mmph," came the muffled response and his mouth sucked at me harder, drawing me deep into his throat, one hand kneading my ass and the other caressing my balls until I came, a deep groan of relief filling the small room. Paul released me slowly and tucked me back into my pants, then rose to his feet, catching my hand and wrapping it around his own erection which he had already freed from his jeans. "I wasn't intending to do this, but I'll come in about five seconds when I'm in you otherwise," he said with a chuckle.
I returned the favour, kneeling on the floor between the shelving units, sucking and stroking him eagerly until he erupted into my mouth with a loud groan that could easily have been heard by anyone passing the room. Licking my lips, I got to my feet again.
"Feel better?"
"God, yes. At least now I might have a chance at lasting five minutes when we get back."
We stayed in the club for another couple hours, alternating beer and soda and having another dance. The place was packed now, with barely room to move and we decided to head home. I was filled with excitement and Paul's sparkling eyes and permanent grin indicated he felt the same. He draped an arm around my neck as we walked out into the street and began to head for the subway station and I slid an arm around him in return, tucking my hand into the back pocket of his pants. He turned towards me, nibbling at my ear as we walked, blowing warm air into it and teasing with his tongue until I had to push him away or risk travelling home with another erection.
"Fucking fags!"
We both halted and spun around at the insult, letting go of each other as we faced the offender. He was well built and bearded, lip curled into an ugly sneer.
"What the fuck is your problem, asshole?" Paul responded.
"You're my problem."
"Go fuck yourself. You want to hang around outside a gay club, what else do you expect to see?"
"You people are fucking sick," he spat back. "Fucking scourge of humanity, fucking each other up the shit-hole; shame they abolished hanging, there'd be a lot less of it."
"Go to hell," I said. "We're not bothering anyone. Come on, Paul." I put my hand on his arm, but he shook me off and took a step towards the other guy, his fists clenched at his sides. I knew he had a temper, but the last thing I wanted was to see him fight this jerk.
"Barry...Gaz...you there?"
I glanced left and right warily as two other guys stepped out of the shadows and moved to their friend's side.
"Paul..." I said under my breath. "Let's just get out of here."
"And let them get away with it?"
"Oh, the fag wants a fight? This should be interesting." The three took another step forwards and I clenched my own fists. I hated violence, but I could take care of myself if I needed to. I moved to Paul's side reluctantly.
"You up for this?" he murmured.
"Doesn't look like we have much choice."
No one else spoke. One moment we were facing the three of them and the next, one of them had launched himself at me, fists swinging, while the other two went for Paul. I ducked and dodged, responding with jabs to my attacker's ribs whenever I got the chance. He was protecting his face well enough with one hand, but the other was flying at me from all angles, getting in far too many lucky punches for my liking. I knew enough defensive tactics to have gotten myself out of it if I hadn't consumed so many beers, but my reflexes were disappointingly slow and when a heavy fist connected with my stomach, the beer immediately made a reappearance. I stumbled away, bending over and vomiting violently, then glanced up and noticed Paul still fighting with the other two guys a few yards away. He seemed to be holding his own with some impressive martial arts moves. I wiped my mouth on my sleeve and straightened up, grimacing and preparing for another attack, but I never saw it coming. He was behind me and suddenly my legs were swept out from under me. I flew backwards and hit the ground hard, my head cracking against the kerb, seeing stars and groaning as pain flashed through my skull. I heard Paul yelling my name, his voice coming from a distance and then fading away until there was nothing; only blackness.