"Coup de Foudre" 47
A ride to trouble.
By Gaedhal
Pittsburgh, July 2016
Justin clung tightly to Brian as the Harley buzzed through the streets of Pittsburgh, weaving in and out of traffic, taking turns as if on a razor’s edge. He shut his eyes and pressed his face against Brian’s neck. Between the back of the helmet and the collar of the leather jacket, Brian’s sweat washed down against Justin’s cheek, warm and full of Brian’s distinctive odor of leather, vanilla, and come. Justin inhaled it like dinner. Then he tasted it, reveling in the salty familiarity.
The ’cycle slowed and turned out of traffic. Justin didn’t have to open his eyes to know where they were.
“Hop off and open the door,” Brian directed as he steadied the bike.
Justin took off his helmet, climbed off, and walked to the box, punching in the code. It was the same one it had always been. Then he pressed the button to raise the garage door.
The garage was empty. Somehow Justin had been expecting to see the Corvette sitting inside, or even the Jeep, but it was only some cardboard boxes, an old broom leaning against the wall, and dusty dried leaves.
Brian drove the Harley into the garage. Justin followed him inside.
Justin knew that Brian now owned the entire building and there were no other tenants, but it still seemed strange and empty.
Brian turned off the motorcycle and got off, removing his helmet. “Bring down the door and switch on the overhead light.”
Justin flipped the switch and the bare bulb flickered on. Then he pressed the button by the inner door and heavy garage door clanked down. He began to press in the code for the building, but then Brian was there, staying his hand.
“What the fuck?”
“Here,” said Brian. “Now.”
Justin frowned. “What?”
“We don’t have time to go upstairs,” said Brian. “We only have time for this.” He unbuckled his belt and put his hands over the front of his jeans. “I felt you licking my neck. Taste my cock instead. Unbutton me.”
Justin only hesitated a moment, then he went to his knees, unbuttoning Brian’s fly. Of course, he wasn’t wearing briefs and his erection was already thickening. Justin inhaled it like he had Brian’s sweaty neck - the dampness, the smoothness, the sticky tip, the swampy aroma. This was also as familiar to him as his own body. No matter how much time went by, no matter what else was in his head, he could always do this.
He thought about other men he’d had over the years. Some he thought he’d loved, while others he’d never even known their names. But always he compared them to Brian. Brian had branded him that first night, claimed him, and told him - warned him - that was the price for fucking him. Knowing Brian, he’d probably been making a crude joke, but Justin believed it with all his heart and it turned out to be true. Truer than either of them could ever have believed, because here they were, sixteen years later, doing the same dance, playing the same game. Justin had learned what sex was from this cock, but what had Brian learned? Justin still wasn’t certain.
“Yeah,” Brian breathed. He leaned against the wall of the garage, bracing himself with his ass and one tilted boot, his leather-gloved hand guiding Justin’s head. “You know how to suck my dick, don’t you, twat?”
Justin nodded, but he didn’t stop.
“You’ve always known exactly what I want, how I like it. Always.” Brian held his breath as his cock began to twitch. “Now! Yes!”
Justin held firm, cupping his balls. One - the one with the implant - felt slightly different. Less pliable, like something hard and alien was inside, but Justin was sure no one else would ever notice. Only he would. Only he knew all of Brian’s bodily secrets.
When Brian released, Justin swallowed it whole, the cock deep against the back of his throat. But Brian suddenly jerked his dick out of Justin’s mouth, letting the remnants of his come dribble down Justin’s cheek. Without thinking, he wiped his mouth on his tee shirt.
“Why did you do that?” asked Justin. “You know I can take everything you’ve got.”
“I know,” said Brian, buttoning his fly. His lips were pressed together in a thin line. Usually after Justin sucked him off, they’d kiss. Brian always said he loved the taste of his own come in Justin’s mouth, but this time he turned his head away.
“What’s wrong?”
“We have to get back,” said Brian, walking back to the Harley. “They’ll be looking for us.”
“Who gives a fuck?” said Justin. “Let’s go upstairs. I haven’t had your cock in me since we had that stupid argument. I need to get fucked!”
“Sorry, Sunshine.” Brian put his helmet back on. “Ask Robbie to fuck you.”
“He doesn’t like to,” Justin sniffed. “He doesn’t particularly like to get fucked, either. But he does like it when I suck his cock.”
“Why wouldn’t he?” said Brian. “You’re a certified expert.”
Justin smiled. “I trained at the Brian Kinney Academy of Oral Arts, so that’s a given.”
Brian tried not to laugh at that. “Open the garage door and turn off the light. We have to get back.”
Justin put his hand on Brian’s arm. “Who gives a fuck if they miss us? We’ll say we took a long ride.”
“In the middle of the picnic? With your boyfriend and Garrett waiting around the grill, eating potato salad and wondering what the hell is going on?”
“Garrett knows what’s going on,” Justin said. He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice.
“Yes, he does,” Brian confirmed. “Because he knows the score. I’m not about to lie to him now when…” Brian stopped.
“When what?” Justin demanded. “When you guys are starting a relationship? Is that it?”
“No,” said Brian. “It’s too early for… for anything like that. He’s a friend and we fuck. That’s it. He’s someone I can talk to. And he’s there when I need to talk, which is more than I can say for you, Sunshine.”
“I’m here right now!” Justin felt like shouting. Brian was so damn pigheaded! “Jesus! Give me a fucking break, will you? You expect me to be at your beck and call every fucking minute of the day?”
Brian’s face showed no trace of emotion. “No. Obviously. Now open the fucking door and get on the bike.”
A few minutes later they were back on the road, heading uptown towards Deb’s house.
By Gaedhal
Pittsburgh, July 2016
Justin clung tightly to Brian as the Harley buzzed through the streets of Pittsburgh, weaving in and out of traffic, taking turns as if on a razor’s edge. He shut his eyes and pressed his face against Brian’s neck. Between the back of the helmet and the collar of the leather jacket, Brian’s sweat washed down against Justin’s cheek, warm and full of Brian’s distinctive odor of leather, vanilla, and come. Justin inhaled it like dinner. Then he tasted it, reveling in the salty familiarity.
The ’cycle slowed and turned out of traffic. Justin didn’t have to open his eyes to know where they were.
“Hop off and open the door,” Brian directed as he steadied the bike.
Justin took off his helmet, climbed off, and walked to the box, punching in the code. It was the same one it had always been. Then he pressed the button to raise the garage door.
The garage was empty. Somehow Justin had been expecting to see the Corvette sitting inside, or even the Jeep, but it was only some cardboard boxes, an old broom leaning against the wall, and dusty dried leaves.
Brian drove the Harley into the garage. Justin followed him inside.
Justin knew that Brian now owned the entire building and there were no other tenants, but it still seemed strange and empty.
Brian turned off the motorcycle and got off, removing his helmet. “Bring down the door and switch on the overhead light.”
Justin flipped the switch and the bare bulb flickered on. Then he pressed the button by the inner door and heavy garage door clanked down. He began to press in the code for the building, but then Brian was there, staying his hand.
“What the fuck?”
“Here,” said Brian. “Now.”
Justin frowned. “What?”
“We don’t have time to go upstairs,” said Brian. “We only have time for this.” He unbuckled his belt and put his hands over the front of his jeans. “I felt you licking my neck. Taste my cock instead. Unbutton me.”
Justin only hesitated a moment, then he went to his knees, unbuttoning Brian’s fly. Of course, he wasn’t wearing briefs and his erection was already thickening. Justin inhaled it like he had Brian’s sweaty neck - the dampness, the smoothness, the sticky tip, the swampy aroma. This was also as familiar to him as his own body. No matter how much time went by, no matter what else was in his head, he could always do this.
He thought about other men he’d had over the years. Some he thought he’d loved, while others he’d never even known their names. But always he compared them to Brian. Brian had branded him that first night, claimed him, and told him - warned him - that was the price for fucking him. Knowing Brian, he’d probably been making a crude joke, but Justin believed it with all his heart and it turned out to be true. Truer than either of them could ever have believed, because here they were, sixteen years later, doing the same dance, playing the same game. Justin had learned what sex was from this cock, but what had Brian learned? Justin still wasn’t certain.
“Yeah,” Brian breathed. He leaned against the wall of the garage, bracing himself with his ass and one tilted boot, his leather-gloved hand guiding Justin’s head. “You know how to suck my dick, don’t you, twat?”
Justin nodded, but he didn’t stop.
“You’ve always known exactly what I want, how I like it. Always.” Brian held his breath as his cock began to twitch. “Now! Yes!”
Justin held firm, cupping his balls. One - the one with the implant - felt slightly different. Less pliable, like something hard and alien was inside, but Justin was sure no one else would ever notice. Only he would. Only he knew all of Brian’s bodily secrets.
When Brian released, Justin swallowed it whole, the cock deep against the back of his throat. But Brian suddenly jerked his dick out of Justin’s mouth, letting the remnants of his come dribble down Justin’s cheek. Without thinking, he wiped his mouth on his tee shirt.
“Why did you do that?” asked Justin. “You know I can take everything you’ve got.”
“I know,” said Brian, buttoning his fly. His lips were pressed together in a thin line. Usually after Justin sucked him off, they’d kiss. Brian always said he loved the taste of his own come in Justin’s mouth, but this time he turned his head away.
“What’s wrong?”
“We have to get back,” said Brian, walking back to the Harley. “They’ll be looking for us.”
“Who gives a fuck?” said Justin. “Let’s go upstairs. I haven’t had your cock in me since we had that stupid argument. I need to get fucked!”
“Sorry, Sunshine.” Brian put his helmet back on. “Ask Robbie to fuck you.”
“He doesn’t like to,” Justin sniffed. “He doesn’t particularly like to get fucked, either. But he does like it when I suck his cock.”
“Why wouldn’t he?” said Brian. “You’re a certified expert.”
Justin smiled. “I trained at the Brian Kinney Academy of Oral Arts, so that’s a given.”
Brian tried not to laugh at that. “Open the garage door and turn off the light. We have to get back.”
Justin put his hand on Brian’s arm. “Who gives a fuck if they miss us? We’ll say we took a long ride.”
“In the middle of the picnic? With your boyfriend and Garrett waiting around the grill, eating potato salad and wondering what the hell is going on?”
“Garrett knows what’s going on,” Justin said. He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice.
“Yes, he does,” Brian confirmed. “Because he knows the score. I’m not about to lie to him now when…” Brian stopped.
“When what?” Justin demanded. “When you guys are starting a relationship? Is that it?”
“No,” said Brian. “It’s too early for… for anything like that. He’s a friend and we fuck. That’s it. He’s someone I can talk to. And he’s there when I need to talk, which is more than I can say for you, Sunshine.”
“I’m here right now!” Justin felt like shouting. Brian was so damn pigheaded! “Jesus! Give me a fucking break, will you? You expect me to be at your beck and call every fucking minute of the day?”
Brian’s face showed no trace of emotion. “No. Obviously. Now open the fucking door and get on the bike.”
A few minutes later they were back on the road, heading uptown towards Deb’s house.