Chapter 3
Clay
While I wait for Max, I pull out my phone and check for any new messages from my new fireman friend. After I messaged him back earlier, we chatted on and off throughout the day. He’s been quite the gentleman so far. But, before we can get to the next stage of meeting face to face, I need to tell him about my preferences. More often than not, that’s where things go wrong. If not on chat, then as soon as we meet in person.
HotStuff: I have a few younger siblings. They are from a second marriage, so they’re a lot younger, and I don’t see them much.
I find the response to an earlier question I’d sent him. He really does seem like a nice guy so far. Well...here goes nothing.
ForgetMeKnot: So...the whole bondage thing…
HotStuff: Yeah, tell me about that. I’m very interested.
ForgetMeKnot: I’m into being tied up. In fact, I need it. But, I am NOT into pain at all. I don’t want flogging or sounding, none of that shit. And I don’t like any humiliation play. These are my hard limits, and I understand if that’s not something you want anything to do with.
HotStuff: I’m down with that.
ForgetMeKnot: Seriously??
HotStuff: Yeah. I can get on board with those limits. Sounds fun. But I hope it’s ok if I take you on a date before we get to the fun ;)
ForgetMeKnot: That’s more than ok. *blushes* Friday night sound good?
HotStuff: Can’t wait
“You must be talking to someone interesting with that big smile you’ve got,” Max comments.
I put my phone aside and make room on my couch for him. “Just a guy.”
“Oh, a gentleman caller?” Max teases in a high-pitched voice.
“Shut up.” I give his shoulder a shove and try not to laugh. Laughing would only encourage him.
After a second, he sobers and gives me a serious look. “You’re careful when you meet up with these guys from online, right?”
“Yes, Mom,” I tease.
“I’m serious, Clay. You hear horror stories of bad things happening to people who meet up online,” he presses.
“Maybe to teenage girls,” I argue. “I’m a grown ass man, and I can take care of myself.”
His words hit home a little more than I like, though. Ever since I told Beck about my bondage kink, he’s been on me to be more careful about who I meet up with. I know I’m putting myself in a vulnerable position, and frankly, I don’t like it any more than he does. But a guy has needs, and dammit if I don’t need a big, gorgeous man to tie me up and edge me until I lose my mind.
“Clay.” Max reaches out and touches my arm, genuine concern shining in his eyes. “Please try to be safe.”
“I promise.”
Seeming satisfied with that, Max settles back on the couch, and I do the same.
The heat rolling off Max’s large body surrounds me and beckons me closer. I want to curl up against him and feel his strong arms around me. All that stuff about Max worrying about me hit a place deep in my heart I don’t like to think about. I don’t need Max to take care of me, but no matter how many times I’ve told him that, it seems like he just can’t help himself. He’s a worrier. Not like me, my worries are more compulsive. Max is a natural protector.
Max turns his head and smiles at me. I blush as I realize I’ve been staring at him for a good minute at least. In my defense, he’s difficult to avoid staring at. He’s so sexy with his long, dark hair, his captivating hazel eyes, and his always soft and welcoming smile. I can’t think of anything I wouldn’t give to run my tongue all over Max’s naked body. And he’s so big, I’m sure that task alone could take hours. But, I think Beck was way off base suggesting that Max is anything but straight. In the years I’ve known Max, he’s never given any indication he’s even curious. I’ve seen him date women, I’ve heard him have sex with women, and I’ve never seen him give a man a second glance.
Max’s heavy head drops onto my shoulder, and his breathing gets a little deeper.
“Hey, I’m not a pillow,” I complain, even though I’m more than happy to be anything Max needs from me.
“I’m not sleeping, I’m resting my eyes, and you have a comfortable shoulder.”
I sigh but let him be. I get why Beck would take something like this to mean Max isn’t straight. After all, straight guys aren’t usually this comfortable with physical contact with other men, but that’s just Max.
I allow myself one more quick second to appreciate his olive skin and tangled mane of black hair. I heard one girl call him an Italian Stallion after a night together, and I haven’t been able to stop wondering if she was referring to his stamina or size...or both? In my private fantasy, it’s definitely both.
After one episode, Max is snoring loudly in my ear and completely plastered against me, so I shut off the TV and give him a little shake.
“Time for bed.”
Max mumbles something in his sleep and nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck. Goosebumps erupt all over my skin, and my dick decides this is the perfect time to sit up and take notice of the proximity of the masculine hunk currently lying nearly on top of me.
“Max,” I grit his name out and try to push him off me, but that only makes the situation worse with him outweighing me by at least a hundred pounds.
Max’s slumps against me, and somehow, I end up with one of my arms wedged under me and the other pinned beneath Max. I’m well and truly unable to move, and now, my dick is even more excited.
Fuck, this is so not the time for this. But my body doesn’t care. My cock is at full mast now, my balls already full and heavy as all the signals register that I’m completely helpless. My heart flutters with excitement as Max settles his weight even more fully against me. That’s when I feel it...his own monstrous erection pressing into my hip.
I was either very good or very bad in a past life to deserve this.
Max mutters something unintelligible again and flexes his hips, rubbing his erection against me as I lay helpless beneath him. My gut tightens, and I squeeze my eyes shut tight, willing myself not to cream my pants.
It’s been way too long since I’ve gotten any real action. Jerking off isn’t even something I bother with most of the time because without being tied up and edged, the orgasms are never very satisfying so it’s not worth the energy.
“Max, please wake up,” I plead in a hoarse voice.
I’ll never forgive myself if I repay Max’s friendship by coming in my pants while he’s asleep on me.
“Hm?” Max grunts, his head jerking up.
I let out a relieved breath, but then I realize I still have the very real problem of being so turned on I can hardly think straight.
“Get off me, please,” I whimper.
Max rolls off the couch onto the floor in a flash.
“Oh my god, did I hurt you?” he asks in a panic, finally awake enough to notice my distress.
“I’m fine,” I lie, tugging my shirt down to hide my erection.
Even if Max has one too, his was because he was asleep. Besides, I’m the gay roommate; if things get weird it’ll be because I’m freaking him out.
“Are you sure?” he asks in a concerned stupor, still trying to shake off sleep.
“Yeah, I’m going to bed. Night.” I jump up and scurry down the hallway as quickly as I can.
Max
Several minutes later, I’m still sitting on the floor staring down the hallway toward Clay’s room. I’m not entirely sure what happened or why I woke up with a raging erection.
I’m assuming I fell asleep on Clay, but that doesn’t explain why he was so freaked out. Oh god, what if I did something weird in my sleep like grope him or something? My gut twists at the thought of doing anything to hurt or upset Clay.
I finally get to my feet and start toward Clay’s room, unsure what I’m going to say, but knowing I need to apologize.
“Daddy?” Gigi whimpers, and I stop in my tracks, immediately turning toward her room.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” I ask.
“I had a bad dream. Can I come sleep with you?”
“Of course, come on.” I pick her up and carry her to my room where I change into my pajamas and climb into bed with her. As much as I hate letting it drop for now, apologizing to Clay will have to wait until the morning.
◆◆◆
I rub my bleary eyes as the bed jostles next to me with the unmistakable motions of a six-year-old trying to be stealthy as she climbs out of bed.
It takes me a few minutes to drag myself out of bed and follow the sound of little feet to the kitchen where I find both Gigi and Clay at the table, each with a bowl of cereal in front of them.
“Morning,” Clay greets me with a tight smile, only giving me a brief flicker of eye contact before focusing back on his breakfast.
“Morning,” I grunt back as I make a beeline for the coffee maker. “Thanks for making coffee,” I call over my shoulder.
“No problem.” Clay’s response holds none of its usual flirtation or playfulness, and now I’m really starting to worry about what I might’ve done to him last night.
“When you’re finished eating, G, why don’t you go get dressed for school,” I suggest.
“I’m done, Daddy,” she says, pushing her bowl away and climbing out of her chair to head to her room to pick out clothes.
“Clay, listen, I’m not sure what I did last night, but I’m so sorry.”
“You didn’t do anything,” Clay says, reaching out and patting my hand in an unconvincing way.
“Then why are you being so weird?” I challenge.
“Can we please drop this?”
“You’re my best friend; if I did something to make you uncomfortable— even in my sleep— I want to know about it.”
Clay lets out a huff of what I can only interpret as annoyance, and then he stands abruptly, taking both his and Gigi’s cereal bowls to the sink to wash.
“Clay.”
“I got excited, okay?” Clay finally snaps with his back toward me while he scrubs the bowls.
“What?”
The water shuts off, and Clay spins to face me with a look of shame and anger in his eyes.
“You were on top of me, and I could feel your erection…” he trails off as the pieces click into place.
I wait for a second, expecting disgust or awkwardness to seep through me, but all I feel is flattered and maybe a little smug.
“How excited are we talking? Did you jizz your pants or what?” I ask with a teasing smile.
“I hate you right now.” Clay tries to storm past me, but I catch his arm.
“I’m sorry; I shouldn’t tease you. I swear, it’s not a big deal. It’s a biological reaction; it’s not like it means anything.”
“Yeah,” Clay mumbles, still avoiding my gaze.
“Please don’t let something like one little boner make our friendship awkward.”
“Hey, my boner is not little,” Clay protests. “And I’ll whip it out right now to show you if I have to.”
“I’d prefer to save any dick measuring contests for after I’ve had my coffee.”
Clay softens and lets a laugh escape. “No need to measure, I could tell last night that you’re packing serious heat.”
Under the teasing tone, I detect a hidden longing, and to my surprise, heat spikes in my veins and my cock shifts in the confines of my pants.
I clear my throat and move around in my seat to make sure my sudden, random erection isn’t visible. That happens to guys all the time, unexplainable hard-ons. It happens a lot less now that I’m not a teenager, but it’s still not that weird.
“Are we cool, then?” I check.
“Yeah, we’re cool. Sorry to make things weird, I just didn’t want you to feel like I was perving on you or anything.”
“Clay, you’re my bro; I know you would never perv on me.”
“Yeah,” Clay agrees quietly before giving me a quick, forced smile. “I’d better go get dressed. Do you need me to drop Gigi at school or do you have her?”
“I’ve got her, thanks.”