“I’m sorry, Josh.” He covered my hand with his.
“I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“No, it’s fine.”
He rubbed his thumb over my knuckles and stared,
unblinking at his caressing movements. “Seriously, forget it.”
I sucked in a deep breath. I couldn’t ignore the
question, not now he’d asked it. Because the truth was I did still think of
Her. In quiet moments She was conspicuous by her absence. I’d suspected I was
gay in my mid-teens, but it wasn’t until I’d met Nick and fallen for him that
I’d handed my body over to another person—Nick was still my one and only
lover. “You know you’re the most important thing in the world to me, Nick, the
pivotal focus of my every waking moment,” I said and then paused, my tongue
stalling with words that might hurt. “But yes, I do sometimes still think of
being with a woman.”
Nick pulled his eyebrows low and studied my
face.
“It’s different for you,” I went on. “You had
Cheryl before we met, Cheryl and others. For me there has only ever been you.”
Gnawing on his bottom lip, Nick shook his head.
“The past is the past, but because of circumstances and our age difference, I
would hate to stop you experiencing something you feel you should—“
“No, it’s not like that, it’s not because I feel
I should, it’s just...” I struggled to put my feelings into words even though
these were not new thoughts and emotions. In fact I’d discussed it recently
with one of our friends who’d known he was into guys from a very early age.
He’d said the idea of sex with a woman repulsed him and he would rather burn in
hell.
Trouble was I didn’t feel like that, there had
been girls, women over the years who’d caught my eye and I’d found myself
physically attracted to them. Not that I’d done anything about it but the
thought of sex with a woman appealed to me, even though I loved Nick and loved
having sex with him, I often imagined being inside a soft, sweet feminine body.
And, like a small crack above a door frame, over the years of that door opening
and shutting—each time I fantasized about being with a woman—it
just got bigger. Now it was so big, that crack, it was starting to spit little
chunks of plaster onto the foundations of our relationship. Nick had been right
to bring it up—it was time to face facts. I wasn’t as gay as I thought I was.
“It’s an urge isn’t it?” Nick said, with an
understanding frown.
I nodded gratefully. “Yes, an urge, but I can
control it. If you hadn’t mentioned it I probably wouldn’t have thought of it
for days.”
“Days...?” His lips stayed parted as if about to
say more.
“Yes, days.” I knew I’d surprised him with the
frequency of my yearning, but it had to be said and it was, after all, him
who’d brought Her up. He deserved the truth.
“Josh, I had no idea.”
I shrugged, withdrew my hand from his and
scooped in a mouthful of my sorbet. I’d come to the conclusion there must be
different levels of gayness. Much as some gay blokes were repulsed by women’s
bodies, there was an opposite end to the spectrum, which I guessed was where I
sat. And so did Nick. He’d been married to Cheryl, lived a straight life and
had a whole pile of
hetro
sex that, he’d told me,
he’d enjoyed—he just hadn’t loved Cheryl enough to spend his life with
her.
“Well, that just proves something needs to be
done,” Nick said in a steely tone. “If these are thoughts you’re having on a
daily basis.”
“Not every day.”
“Just most.” He placed down his spoon, leaving a
big chunk of his torte.
I reached over and cupped his cheek, stared at
his long face, handsome and strong and strewn with shadows. He usually sported
a dark layer of neatly trimmed facial hair but he’d shaved it off saying he
didn’t want an uneven tan. “I don’t want to risk anything or anyone coming
between us,” I said. Rocking our peaceful existence terrified me considerably
more than suppressing an urge—urges I could cope with, urges I had
control over.
“But where is the risk?” Nick covered my hand
with his palm and tipped his head so his cheek pressed more firmly against me.
“What we have is so strong, so solid, how can you experiencing one night with a
woman possibly break it?”
I thought for a moment then sighed. “I don’t
think it would break it. I’m just scared about throwing a spanner in the works.
We’re so happy and we have been for so long as tonight, ten years married,
proves.”
“So what better time to do this, Josh, while
we’re secure and strong?” He set his jaw in the determined way he did when sure
of something. I felt it tense beneath my palm.
“I suppose you’re right.” I paused, my mind
flooding with thrilling possibilities as well as hurdles. “But I couldn’t just
have sex with anyone. That wouldn’t work for me I would have to...” I
hesitated.
“Go on.”
“She would have to have that certain something,
make me feel comfortable and excited both mentally and physically. You couldn’t
just hire me a prostitute and think that would work.”
He sat back, forcing me to drop my hand from his
face. He folded his arms over his chest and tightened his fingers into his
biceps creating little dents in his tanned flesh. “Of course I wouldn’t hire
you a prostitute, what do you take me for?”
I smiled, scooped up a chunk of my sorbet and
offered it forward. “Here, try this, you’ll love it.”
He narrowed his eyes, but a sparkle deep within
them told me he’d been quickly placated. Yes, holidays definitely suited Nick’s
moods. They were much less fractious.
“That’s fabulous,” he said, after taking the icy
sweet treat.
“Yeah, it is.”
There was a long, thought-filled pause.
“But we don’t know anyone who would be
suitable,” Nick said eventually with a sigh. “I work from home and you work
with a bunch of burly guys. And let’s face it, even if we both worked with
hordes of women, finding one who would be willing to go to bed with a gay man,
just so he had the experience of fucking a woman, would be pretty slim.”
I shrugged. “I know, in fact, it’s virtually
impossible which make this whole conversation hypothetical.” It was time to get
back to just being us and take Her out of our special evening. I dropped my
gaze downwards, as if undressing him with my eyes and said in a lowered voice,
“Besides, you keep me more than satisfied, in every department.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” he said, draining the
last of his champagne and giving me the lopsided grin I adored, the one that
dimpled his left cheek, right in the center and made him look so damn sexy.
“But just so we’re clear, and I’ve said this before, we may be committed to one
another, but if the opportunity arises for you to lose your virginity in the
conventional sense, then you have my blessing. It might be tomorrow, it might
be years from now, but I’m there for you when it does, one hundred percent.”
“Thank you, but the chance of Her existing are
pretty remote.”
“She could be in Marbella right now, you never
know, Josh.”
Once again I looked out at the inky expanse of ocean. Beyond
the horizon lay Africa, with all of its exotic scents and sights, taste and
delights. I’d experienced a small section of the vast continent as a tourist,
though Nick, before we’d met, had traveled it extensively with Cheryl. They’d
toured all over the West Coast, she’d been a doctor and he was an architect.
They’d spent a couple of years helping set up hospitals in the poorest
countries. And then he’d met me, one night in a bar in
Notting
Hill and acknowledged that he was gay. The marriage had come to an abrupt end.
Occasionally I felt bad about it, but I knew it
wasn’t my fault. Nick had made his own decisions, and ultimately Cheryl was a
happier woman now. We met up occasionally, with Cheryl. Nick stayed in touch
and liked to ensure she had everything she needed. Although why he worried I
had no idea, being that she was now a professor and married to a world class
ophthalmologist. She had everything she wanted and more, including three
children. Nick meeting me had saved her from a life that revolved around a lie.
“Anything else, sir?” a waiter asked, appearing
at our side and directing the question at Nick.
Nick glanced at me. “No, I think we’re done.
Just the bill, please.”
His foot touched my calf, just the tip of his
summer shoe, and I knew he was thinking the same as me. After an evening of
champagne and fine dining, and with a luxury suite awaiting us at The
Peniche
Hotel, there was only one thing left on the agenda.
Sex.
Nick paid the bill, and we wandered back down
the pier, hand in hand.
“I love walking with you like this,” Nick said,
squeezing my fingers. “It’s so nice to be able to do it without wondering what
people will be saying in the paper-shop five minutes later.”
“I know.” I brought his hand to my mouth and
brushed his knuckles over my lips. “I adore living in Little
Mickleton
, but it would be nice if people were a bit more
open-minded.”
“I think they’re pretty used to us by now.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
The stroll back to the hotel along the promenade
was peppered with curiosities demanding our attention. A man dressed as a Roman
Emperor and sprayed entirely in gold paint stood like a statue, moving only
when children dropped cents into his urn. Another dressed as Captain Jack
Sparrow, posed for photographs, Nick couldn’t resist. We stood for ten minutes
and admired an enormous and incredibly intricate sandcastle before dropping
several Euros into the artist’s green plastic bucket.
Keen as we were to get one another naked, the
beauty of having been together so long was knowing that it
would
happen.
The anticipation, the togetherness beforehand, was all part of the seduction.
Finally we reached our room. It was spacious and
minimal, the bed enormous and covered in a cream and gold eiderdown, the piping
on the delicate brocade a vibrant red. A huge expanse of glass opened onto a
balcony, and when Nick flung open the doors the distant roar of the waves
rolled upwards and filled the room, bringing with it salty air and the shrill
call of a gull.
“I’m going to freshen up,” Nick said, toeing off
his shoes and catching my eye in the mirror. “Make sure you’re naked when I get
back.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” I said giving a mock
salute.
He grinned and disappeared into the
en-suite.
After quickly checking my mobile for
messages—none—I turned off my cell. I shucked off my beige shorts
and checked shirt and tossed them onto the chair. I didn’t wear boxers or any
other type of underwear. It was a habit I’d adopted years ago, not long after I
met Nick and they kept getting ripped from my body; now I just went without.
Sliding between the cool, Egyptian sheets, I
sighed in contentment and waited for my lover. My dick was hard just thinking
about his hot, granite body against mine,
in mine.
I locked my hands
behind my head and stared up at the ceiling, resisted the temptation to start
without him.
Luckily I didn’t have to wait long. The en-suite
door opened and Nick stepped out, gloriously naked and his beautiful cock
bouncing upwards from his wiry bush of black pubic hair. My heart rate skipped
up a notch as he flicked off the light, allowing the moonlight to filter over
the bed in a ghostly glow.
Throwing back the covers, I exposed my body,
showing him my engorged need.
“You want the final part of your anniversary
present?” he asked in a low, husky voice, his gaze scanning me from my toes to
my head.
“Bring it on,” I said, fisting my shaft and
sliding my thumb under the rim of my cock-head.
He kneeled on the bed and carefully unpeeled my
fingers from my erection. “Allow me.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and willed my hips not
to jerk upwards as he tapped his tongue over my slit, scooping up a thick drip
of pre-cum.
“My, you are ready for it,” he whispered,
working the tip of his tongue over my glans in a zigzag pattern.
“Oh, yes, that’s it,” I moaned. I turned my head
on the pillow and ran my fingers over his short hair. “Oh, Nick, you do it so
good to me.”
He didn’t answer. In response he sank low,
taking me on a perfect deep-throated ride. His mouth was warm and soft and his
tongue a deep, strong groove that hugged my shaft. When he bobbed so low my
glans touched the back of his throat I groaned, drawn out and luxuriously,
loving the way the sound mixed with the crashing of the sea; it was so erotic
and at one with nature, a wave of wet sensations and needy emotions.
He sucked back up, and his fingers joined the
party, exploring and caressing the base of my shaft. He cupped my balls and
squeezed gently, rolling them within their loose, wrinkled skin.
I groaned again and willed control. Nick’s
skillful fingers combined with his talented mouth could easily have me reaching
the finish line early, and I didn’t want that.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” Nick asked, his
warm breath breezing over my belly and cooling my saliva-wet shaft.