Alex (1)

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She was thrusting herself over him, both her hands clutching his firm, broad shoulders for dear life. Her mouth was agape; she was about to enter orgasm. His cock had fully penetrated this time, and he could feel the friction between her womb and his foreskin, it almost burned. Sadly, he didn’t feel anything else than a strong urge to get it over with. He was just lying there; he might as well have been an inflatable sex balloon. As she, his current lover and photography muse, was grinding on him and working him so hard his dick almost broke a sweat. His butt cheek muscles ached; his upper back was on the verge of bleeding from how deep she was boring her nails into his skin. She, Veronica, then starting sucking his nipple, and all Alex could do was fake a moan here and there and wait for the orgasm she had been working so hard for for the past forty five minutes. Eventually, her loud screams of pleasure and ecstasy echoed off every surface in the small studio apartment Alex called home. They signaled the inevitable, and Veronica, shocked at the way Alex’s dick could endure almost an hour’s worth of a sex session and not come at any given time, reached for the hand job. She wrapped her cold, sweaty hand around his shaft and began moving it up and down along the length of his penis. Alex put his arms behind his head and buried his hands into his semi grown dirty blonde hair, and closed his eyes. He could feel her now licking the tip of his penis, moving her lips up and down his shaft, and sucking on each testicle at a time. But it was not Veronica he was thinking of behind those pale eyelids of his. And the image surprised him, for when he opened his eyes again it was Veronica’s lips around the tip of his cock. But just as he closed them again, all he saw was him, every gorgeous part of him, every twitching muscle, and every strand of jet black hair that constantly used to fall above his green eyes, the aspect which gave them a sort of mystery, hiding behind those veils of night. Alex’s muscles started to shudder, his toes curled, his biceps flexed. He bit down on his upper lip, which was full with a redness that only a person of his pale complexion could own. His abs tensed as he let one arm free itself from the other and travel along the length of his body, touching his chest, his nipples, his stomach, and then just as he reach for Veronica’s head and forced her whole head down on his dick, he exploded within her and jolted up from his daydream.

Love is like a sin, my love, for the ones that feel it the most.

He woke up the next morning in the same boxers he’d worn to his mess of a bed for the past three nights, a pair colored pink white, and were also his favorite. Alex started to feel around blindly for any signs of Veronica’s coming to life in his apartment on this misty, rainy September morning in downtown Montréal, but found none. He held very still for a moment, trying to hear any footsteps or gurgling of the coffee machine, as Veronica usually considered that her appliance of preference for the morning in particular, but to his surprise also heard none.  Finding it odd that he didn’t find her in the apartment at that hour, especially because neither of them had class yet at the university, he straightened himself and flung his feet from the mattress to the solid wooden ground and tried to peek into the bathroom to see if she would be showering. Instead he felt a sort of crumpling noise under him, and reached under his boxers to find a little blue Post-it stuck to the bottom of them. He grabbed his Clubmaster eyeglasses from the side table and read the note, which was addressed to him and said that Veronica had gone out for an early breakfast with a couple of friends from her university and that she would be busy all day. Great, he thought. And he had a photography portfolio due next week that required her modeling abilities and time. He would just have to wing it today, like he usually did. He looked around his apartment. Empty. The only sounds coming from the running fridge and the light traffic from outside. Then Alex was suddenly hit by a very real feeling of being alone for the first time in weeks. Or maybe that wasn’t completely true. There was the still Skyler, the new transfer student he met a week back in photography class. Skyler Morrison was majoring in fashion photography, he was nineteen years old, a year younger than Alex himself, and his face was all Alex could think of while having sex last night with the girl he loved. Or the girl he thought he loved. When he came to think of it, he had been seeing less and less of Veronica lately ever since she changed majors and started hanging out with the English Lit students a couple of years older than her a year back. He sighed, rubbed his eyes with his sore fists, and decided to start with a shower, and maybe then he’d figure out what to do with the rest of his day. Being completely lost was not a particular liking of his. He walked to the nearby bathroom, which only slightly fit a sink, a shower, and a toilet seat separated apart just enough so that a person could walk through without having to hit any body parts anywhere. He took off his boxers, threw them into the laundry basket which seemed to be overflowing with dirty clothes, stretched his wrought back, turned on the shower, and kept feeling for the water to become hot enough to take a quick plunge in. He made a mental note to empty the laundry basket later that day, climbed into the shower, and he just froze under the showerhead. The steaming water seemed like the therapy he had been craving for a while now, as it hit every aching muscle in his body, and ran down every dry part of skin he had left. Veronica had really worked him up last night hadn’t she? Alex cracked his neck and thoughts of Skyler came flooding into his head too fast for him to stop. But why was he thinking about this person, a guy, he barely knew, very excessively. But those rough almost Mediterranean like features were hard to forget. The scruffy black hair complimented by two perfectly positioned somewhat busy eyebrows that topped two undulated almond shapes eyes the color of spearmint. A perfectly Romanesque nose followed by two thin pink lips and a cleft chin. Rounding all that perfection up was a supremely square jaw that was made even more irresistible by the stubble Skyler grew to a certain length. All this set in a rosy sort of complexion that softened an otherwise manly face. And his body wasn’t too bad either. Actually it was amazing. Especially because Sky wore these clothes that hugged his somewhat muscular physique so aptly it was insane. He looked flawless whatever he did wherever he went. Alex woke up again from his trance to find that the water was almost going to burn through his skin, and turned it off. He just stood there for a second, and felt that something was off. Alex then glanced down at his penis and saw it was in full salute, completely hard. It was pure shock running through his body right now, as opposed to whatever it was that had made his dick enjoy the moment so much. Since when did thinking about Skyler give him erections?

Alex stepped out of the shower, dripping wet and splattering water all over the floor. He could make out a slight ding in the distance; at first he thought it was just some sound in the back of his mind. But as he opened the bathroom door to inspect the source of the noise, he quickly realized it was the doorbell being rang continuously, with no signs of stopping. He grabbed a white full length towel that was just about to fall off the rack and ran to the door. Just as the last ring stopped to his surprise, he grabbed the knob and opened the door, and was stunned to discover who was standing on the other side.

“Skyler…?”

- Contributed by R.

Tags: attraction, fiction, Gay, heterosexuality, homosexuality, relationship, sex