Pretenders (Firsts and Forever 3)

“I know this must seem odd,” he said. “When I moved here, I decided against buying a lot of furniture, because I didn’t know how long I’d be staying.”

“It’s a nice apartment,” I told him, searching for the positives. “You have lots of room and a cool view.”

“It serves its purpose. There’s a heated pool and a workout room on the roof of the building. That means I don’t have to commute to a fitness center every morning. Plus, I can walk to work, since it’s only about a mile and a half to the Embarcadero. I didn’t bring my car when I moved from the east coast, so that’s been convenient.”

Seeing this place explained so much. The apartment was just way too cold and empty. The fact that it was on the very edge of the city and faced away from it also said something. It was kind of like moving to a new address but then living out on the sidewalk, instead of actually being a part of it. No wonder he didn’t feel at home in San Francisco.

I put my backpack and snack bag beside the chair. As I took off my shoes and hoodie and added them to the pile, he joined me and asked, “Would you like a tour of the apartment? Admittedly, there’s not much to see.”

“Yes. Afterwards.”

“After what?”

“This.” I pulled him to me and ravaged his mouth with a demanding kiss, and he responded with just as much fire and passion. In the next instant, we were all over each other with no thought other than need you now.

He fumbled with my tank top and pulled it over my head before going right back to kissing me. His hands slid up my back and down my arms, and as he nuzzled my neck he murmured, “You smell so good.”

I dropped my shorts and stepped out of them, and his hands skimmed over the thin band around my waist and grasped my bare ass. He leaned back for a moment to take a look at what I was wearing, and when he saw the black jock strap he whispered, “Oh wow.” That response was even better than I’d hoped for, and I grinned at him before pulling him into another kiss.

As I massaged his hard-on through the expensive fabric of his tuxedo pants, he moaned against my lips. Then he pushed me against the glass wall and dropped to his knees.

He pulled the jockstrap below my balls and licked my cock before taking it in his mouth. I ran my fingers into his thick, dark hair and watched him as he sucked me. The fact that he was still fully dressed in that tuxedo while I was almost naked was a huge turn-on.

It would have taken little effort to finish me off that way, but I wanted something else from him. After a few minutes, I whispered, “I need you in me,” and he immediately got to his feet and kissed me again.

I tugged on the tail of his black silk bowtie to untie it—there was that sensation of unwrapping a gift again—and unbuttoned his shirt while he shrugged off his jacket and let it fall to the floor. My jock strap followed. Between the two of us, we managed to strip him quickly while kissing and caressing each other.

I loved the way he took charge, bending me over the ottoman before he crouched down behind me, spread my ass, and ran his tongue along my crack. I muttered, “Fuck yes,” as he pushed the tip of his tongue into me. It was startlingly intimate but I relaxed into it, giving him access to every part of me as I jerked myself off.

It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. We were just two virtual strangers, driven by lust, enjoying each other. But it meant something anyway when I realized how safe I felt with Wes. It was okay to be vulnerable with him, to be literally and figuratively stripped bare. He wasn’t going to hurt me. I believed that without question, and there was something so freeing in that revelation. I could let go, drop my defenses, and I’d still be alright. He’d see to it.

Soon my need to feel him inside me outweighed everything else. He paused what he was doing so I could reach down and fish out the lube and a condom from my backpack, which I handed to him. After he made use of both items, I assumed he’d take me right there. But he surprised me by pulling me to my feet, then spinning me around and pushing me against the glass wall again.

This time I was facing the view, and I braced my hands against the cool glass as I widened my stance. We were ten stories up, and it was dark enough in here to make it hard for anyone to see us, but I still shivered with pleasure at the idea of being on display like that. It felt risky, forbidden, and that made it even hotter than it already was.