Mark

There are no words to describe what it’s like to fuck Eli. To fill his hole, inch by inch, my balls slapping up against his ass cheeks. Leaving red marks on his flesh, hearing the sounds of his satisfied groans.

My hands glide over the supple round curves of his flank. I relish in the sensations, especially of the bristly hairs covering his ass that tickle my fingers. So unlike being with a woman.

With every thrust of my dick, Eli lets out a loud but muffled moan, his face is pushed into the side of the pillow. I test things out a bit by altering the speed of my thrusts. Slow, slow, slow; fast, slow; our moans in sync and mimicking one another.

And then I speed it up, gripping the top of his shoulder to provide some resistance, and go to town. I’m enthralled with the way the muscles of his back bunch and tense, tighten and release. I glide my fingertips up and down his spine, collecting samples of the sweat that clings there.

After a few more forceful thrusts, Eli spews out a string of expletives.

“Fuck, man...yeah, right there....so close.”

His hand snakes underneath his belly to grip his cock, but I beat him to it, slapping it away and enclosing him in my fist. He’s as hard as a steel rod, the tip covered in pre-cum that I swipe with the pad of my finger. I curl my fingers around his balls, stroking and encircling that only serves to elicit more expletives before I begin jacking him off in earnest.

The sounds of our fucking are loud and animalistic. Gasping, grunting, hard breaths. Fucking beautiful.

“I want you to come all over my hand. All over my bed,” I hum into his ear, nipping at it with my teeth. “I want to wake up to your scent and smell all over my sheets.”

That must do it for him, because a second later, his shoulders tense and his head drops to the pillow with a rapturous howl. His dick jerks and pulses in my grip, his cum shooting over my hand in a ribbon of hot moisture.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.”

I grin happily, the mellow contentment of making a lover come washing over me with triumphant glee. Until I feel the tension in my own balls, signaling my imminent release. The quick snap and firing of tingles that torch down my legs and then reverse, shooting up my spine.

Burrowing my chin into the crook of his neck, I bellow out, coming long and hard, releasing with a guttural growl.

A few moments pass, the white spots slowly dissipating from my field of vision, the endorphins that were recklessly swimming around my body beginning to stabilize right along with my heartrate.

Realizing in a moment of lucidness that I’m practically smothering Eli with my body, I release my hold, pulling away from his back that’s covered with a sheen of sweat now and slipping out of his body. He drops to his side and I’m rewarded with the sight of his after-orgasm face.

His eyes are closed, and he wears a happy-ass grin, his cheeks a brightly colored rose glow.

I land next to him in a heap, caring little that I still wear a rubber on my softening dick. I begin to brush light strokes across his shoulder, collarbone and chest, noticing the goosebumps that form over his smooth supple skin.

He moans softly. “That feels good.”

My reply comes in the way of a kiss on his bicep. The bicep covered in a tattoo that wraps around the circumference of his arm.

I don’t have any tattoos, and don’t normally find them appealing, but they are on Eli. They reflect his devil-may-care, lust for life personality. I want to learn what prompted him to get these and what they mean to him.  

“I don’t want to get up, but gotta take care of things,” I explain, nodding down to the condom. Eli peeks open an eye, his smile broadening.

“K, but don’t be long. I like to cuddle.”

He winks at me as I slip out of bed and head into the bathroom. I feel his eyes on my backside as I do, glancing back behind me to see him lying contented on my bed.

“It was just like I imagined,” he reveals, his voice full of appreciation, his finger circling in the air pointing at my bare ass. “Actually, no. It was so much better.”

Behind the closed bathroom door, my head filled with his compliment and the memory of our fucking, and I realize that being with him is better than I imagined, too.

Was it ever like this before? This easy companionship that I have with Eli? The pull of attraction that can’t be denied? The insatiable need to be with him and touch every part of him?

I blink at my reflection in the mirror. The same reflection I had earlier in the week, but now it feels blurry. Different. Changed. Altered somehow from the man I was to the one now looking back at me.

I thought I knew who I was. I was Dr. Mark Olsen. Surgeon. Humanitarian. Bisexual with a tendency to remain on the straight and narrow. A man who is still nursing a broken heart and the humiliation of rejection from the woman he thought he’d spend his life with. It all gives me curious pause and muddies the water.

When I emerge from the bathroom, Eli’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, the bottle of wine opened and on the night table, a plate of snacks in front of him, a glass of wine in his hand, naked as the day he was born.

He looks good sitting there. Like he was meant to be there all along.

Eli pats the bed next to him and plops something in his mouth. “Dude, come join me. This cheese is nom.”

I roll my eyes at his slang. “What are we, like twelve? And I thought you wanted to cuddle?”

I ruffle his hair playfully but open my mouth as he feeds me a slice of the cheese I bought at the market earlier today. And yeah, it is really good.

We sit eating for a bit in silence, Eli feeding me bites of food in between sips of wine. It’s nice. Feels right.

And that worries me. Because this can’t be a thing between us. We work together. I’m in an authority position at the hospital and he’s on my surgical staff.

He’s also a man.

I’m not sure I’m ready for this to change my life so significantly.

“Whatchya thinking about there, doc?”

Eli obviously picks up on my discomfort and the concern probably etched across my face.

“I think I mentioned last night that I’m not out. I didn’t plan on any of this to happen.”

He tilts his head, squinting his eyes at me, as if he’s trying to read my mind. “By any of this, do you mean, you didn’t plan on fucking a gay man this weekend?”

I take another gulp of wine and swallow, allowing myself some time to prepare my answer. Eli’s not all wrong about that. Of course, I wasn’t out there looking to hook-up with a man. Or even a woman for that matter. I’m just trying to get my life back on track and in order.

“Partially, yeah, that’s true. I don’t go around hooking up with men. You’ve already come out and declared yourself a gay man, so it’s easier for you. Nobody – and I mean no one – knows anything about my interest in both sexes. My career – my reputation – my family – they all think I’m a straight man.”

“So? Your sexual preferences shouldn’t matter to anyone else but you and your lovers.”

I nod in agreement. “Idealistically, sure. You’re right. But realistically? It’s going to affect the way my colleagues, the hospital staff, my friends look at me. How they treat me.”

Faster than I thought possible, Eli jumps off the bed and finds his discarded clothing, grabbing them in a huff.

“That’s bullshit, doc. And you know it.”

He eyeballs me with a dark intensity that I’ve not seen yet in Eli. He’s always been light-hearted, jovial and fun. Never angry.

My fear that he’s going to walk out that door and never speak to me again grips me in a raging panic. I can’t let that happen. With trepidation and worry, I slide off the bed and follow him out into the living room, where’s he already slipping on his shoes and jacket, his back to me.

“Eli, wait. Please don’t leave like this. Let me explain,” I beg, wrapping my arms around his torso and clinging to him like a child whose being abandoned. “I want the weekend with you. You said you understood our arrangement.”

He scoffs with an angry pfft, shrugging my arms from his middle and turning so he can give me hell directly to my face. He spears me with his glare.

“Well, I changed my mind, doc. I have that right, just like you have the right to hide yourself from the world. But let me tell you this,” he jabs a finger into my chest so hard I think it’ll leave a bruise.

At least I’ll have something left from him.

I square my shoulders, ready to take whatever he’s going to give me. He deserves the right to have his say, even though I might not agree with it. Even though I want to pull him close and shut him up with my mouth over his.

“You’re not doing yourself any favors. You think you are, but you’re only denying your own true happiness. I’ve seen it happen and it turns good, ‘upstanding’ men into weak, closeted gay men who don’t even recognize themselves anymore.”

My skills in rebuttal and debate seem to fly out the window because I’m at a loss for words. Because I know he’s right but that doesn’t make it any easier. He doesn’t understand that I can’t just turn into someone else overnight. What will my friends and family think? Or the Chief of Surgery? The hospital administrators? It’s a church-affiliated hospital, for heaven’s sake. Or my parents and all their high society friends?

The memory of what happened to Bryce Rolands, a family friend and a former classmate of mine at St. Peter’s Academy, pops into my head. Bryce came out his second year in college and was so ostracized that he wound up committing suicide from the shame he felt. Or at least, that’s the reason I think he used for taking his own life. Either way, it didn’t end up well for him and that same circle of friends would be no less accepting of me or my lifestyle.

Bowing my head in shame, I avert my eyes to the floor, avoiding his accusations.

He surprises me when he cups and lifts my chin to look me in the eyes.

“I like you, doc. A lot more than I care to admit. But I’ve been through this shit before and it tore me apart. After tonight...” his voice trails off for a moment as he shifts his gaze toward my bedroom, as if all the secrets and answers to our burning questions are found there.

And maybe they are, but only for a short time. Reality is bound to crash in sooner than later.

Eli drops his hand from my face and a wry smile edges at his mouth.

“After tonight, I know I’d be fooling myself if I thought I could just play it cool with you. So, it’s better we just end it now and move on.”

I’m still speechless and unable to respond when Eli kisses me gently on the lips and then on the cheek before he turns and opens the door.

He stops momentarily, but remains facing forward when he says wistfully, “It’s too bad, ya know? I think we have a good connection together. Who knows, it could’ve led to something.”

I’m naked and exposed, standing in the middle of my living room as I stare off at the bright and intuitive man as he walks out my door. And out of my arms.

Although nearly seven years younger than me, he seems to possess more wisdom in his twenty-five years of life than I do in my thirty-two. Eli Morrell has no qualms about who he is or expressing what he wants, and I admire that about him.

As for me, I guess I’m just a career-focused doctor who’s too stupid to realize he’s just let the best thing to ever happen to him walk out of his life. And too numb to do anything about it.