I was a bundle of neuroses wrapped up in designer clothing by the time I finally reached the front door. Was he only here because I’d ordered yet another porn DVD? Was he after getting his comics back? How much was I going to have to grovel to get back in his good graces? I knew I couldn’t answer any of these questions without opening the door, so I reached out and turned the handle with a sweaty hand.
“Hey, how ya doing?” Ollie asked, a small smile playing around his lips. He started twirling his wristbands and was jiggling more than usual. “Um, I’m sorry 46
about storming off yesterday. I’m not usually such a drama queen, but I was a bit shaken up by the whole thing.”
I was flabbergasted. I stared at him with my mouth hanging open until the unease in his eyes made me remember my manners. I pulled the door wide open.
“You got time to come in for a moment? I could make you a coffee to say sorry for being such an ungrateful tosser.”
He grinned as if in relief, then tore back a Velcro strip on one of his wristbands to reveal a watch face. “Yeah, I could probably spare fifteen minutes or so. I mean, I shouldn’t, but who’s gonna know? I can just say I got stuck in traffic.” He gave me a wicked smile and had a glint in his eyes that made my heart start to pound.
I wordlessly led the way to my kitchen, trying desperately to convince my body that soaking itself in sweat was not the best plan of action right now.
Needless to say, it didn’t bloody well listen to me.
“Wow! Great place you’ve got here. I was too panicked to notice it all yesterday.” Ollie spun around in the middle of the kitchen, peered out over the courtyard garden, then his gaze skittered over my coffeemaker. “Shit, you’ve got an Elektra Micro Casa! These things are fucking beautiful.” He stroked a hand over the brass body. “Looks proper steampunk, that does. Like I said, you’ve got great taste.”
He turned to me, and my mouth dried up. I swallowed hard. “You want a coffee, then?”
Ollie shook his head, a mischievous smile quirking his lips. “Not really.
Maybe next time, though.”
He took a step closer, his eyes sparkling, and I started to panic at my body’s instinctive reaction to him. I couldn’t get properly hard when I was bloated with fluid, could I? I was starting to doubt my previous certainty.
“Juice?” I offered. “Soda water?” Anything to take my mind off the way my blood was racing south.
“There is something I’d like to taste,” Ollie said, stepping well into my personal space. I took a step back and ended up trapped against the worktop.
“Yeah?” I croaked, unable to take my eyes off his as he moved right up close until we were practically touching. I could feel the heat radiating off him, and I wanted nothing more than to pull him to me, but my hands seemed to be glued to the worktop.
“Yeah,” Ollie replied, then slipped his arms around my waist and craned up on tiptoe until our lips brushed together.
48
“Hnnugh!” My breath escaped me with an embarrassing protest, but Ollie just smiled and hooked a hand around my neck to pull my head down. This time, I was prepared for him and opened my lips to his probing tongue. He kissed enthusiastically—more energy and desire than technique—but he tasted incredible, like mocha with cream. I took over the kiss, slowing it down so that our teeth wouldn’t clash anymore. I sucked on his tongue, and Ollie made this little noise that sounded like he’d gone to heaven. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever heard. Jesus Christ, I needed to keep my hands to myself, or I was going to grab hold of his arse and frot against him until I came in my pants. I pulled back, panting, my forehead resting against his.
Then his hand dropped down and groped me through my jeans.
“You’d better stop that,” I protested, but I hadn’t even convinced myself, so I wasn’t surprised when he ignored me.
“What have we got here, then?” he asked. “Feels like a bit of a monster.
Think I’d better take a closer look.”
He slid his other hand up inside my T-shirt, and I panicked, twisting away.
Too close to the tube. Too close to all that fluid inside me.
He knitted his brow and gave me a stern look. “What are you scared of, Ben?
I know you want this too.”
“Just, I’m not attractive anymore. My abs have disappeared. I’ve got a tube.”
It sounded lame even to me.
“I don’t care about the fucking tube, all right?”
“You say that now, but you haven’t seen it.” I didn’t want to tell him about the bald patches. It would sound so bloody vain.
Ollie gave me a pitying look, then pushed up one of his sleeves. I gasped when I saw his tattoo. It was designed to look like his flesh had been flayed, revealing a biomechanical network of metal cables and machinery underneath. It was beautiful, in the most unsettling way. I ran a finger down the curve of one inked cable.
“You see? I’m into all that shit. You don’t have to hide it from me.”
Maybe I could trust him. I wanted to, I knew that much. My skin was howling for his touch.
“Well?” he asked. “Can I see you?”
I nodded, sucked in my stomach as much as possible, then lifted my T-shirt.
The catheter tube was taped down in a curve under my bellybutton—the position I’d found most comfortable when clothed. Ollie dropped to his knees in front of me and stroked gently along the length of the tube, up to where it disappeared inside me, about two inches above and to the left of my navel. He didn’t touch the skin right by the entry site but pressed a kiss to one of my shaved patches, next to the tape. I shuddered, overcome by the sensation of his soft lips against my naked skin.
“Wow, that’s amazing,” he said. I could feel his warm breath on my skin and my eyes started to prickle.
“It doesn’t bother you?” I had to know he wasn’t just pretending to make me feel better.
Ollie huffed and rolled his eyes. “Does it look like it bothers me?” He indicated the bulge in his trousers, and I had to admit that no, he didn’t look all that perturbed.
Huh.
50
I pulled my shirt the rest of the way off and stared down at him. It had been so long. Too long. Nearly two years since a man had touched me like this.
But I really didn’t want to think about that last time.
His hand went to my crotch, and he deftly undid the buttons. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, just watched him as he pulled down my jeans and boxers as one. My cock sprang free, so much more eloquent and lively than I was. I couldn’t believe it had managed to get that excited even when I was full of fluid, but quite clearly it couldn’t give a monkey’s about that. Maybe I could learn something from Ollie and my dick if the two of them combined forces. Hold that thought…
Ollie breathed on the head of my cock, pulling back the foreskin and giving me a wet lick that felt so good it made me groan. I had to look down. I had to see what he was doing, even if it did mean I had a view of the tube. Actually, that might be a good thing. It would stop me humiliating myself further by coming as fast as a horny teenager.
Ollie smiled up at me and nuzzled my balls. “Wish I could really take my time over this, but I’d better not spend too long right now. That okay? I can come back this evening and suck you properly. Want you to fuck me too, if that’s what you’re into. You top, right? I mean, I hope you do, coz my arse was made for fucking.”
I nodded, breathless, all my words forgotten in the incendiary rush of lust his offer had kick-started.
He didn’t waste any more time on words—just licked me from root to tip, then opened wide and swallowed me down, his hands clutching my arse to pull me in deeper. I quickly discovered that the frantic passion he’d put into his kisses extended to his blowjob technique, but I wasn’t complaining. The heat, the incredible suction, the writhing of his tongue all combined to make my dick feel like it was about to explode. I wanted to hold back, to make it last, but with Ollie staring up at me with those big, molten-chocolate eyes, his lips stretched wide around me as he moaned with pleasure like I was some kind of delicious treat— well, I had to give in to it.
My desire rose and rose, filling me up inside until I could burst. I started rocking a little in rhythm with Ollie. I heard myself grunting. What was that all about? I never normally made much noise when I was wanking. I looked at the tube to ground me, but then I realised that Ollie was looking at it too, his pupils growing wider as he dropped a hand down to his groin, fumbled with his trouser fastenings and took hold of his prick. Was he really going to get off looking at that thing?
But then his gaze met mine again, and nothing else mattered as I froze. I tried to warn him, tried to pull his head away, but it was too late. My balls shot their load while he was still sucking on me, my fingers grasping his hair. I couldn’t help it, I grabbed on to those purple locks and thrust in deep, my cock throbbing as bliss thundered through me and escaped in a hoarse cry.
Exhausted, I slumped back and watched him finish. Watched him looking up at me, moaning with pleasure, his hand blurring until he stuttered to a finish, creamy jets of spunk squirting on my legs, my jeans, my kitchen cupboards… Far hotter than any come-shot I’d ever seen on my DVDs. This one was just for me.
“Wow, Ben, that was… Christ, that was fucking amazing.” He rose on unsteady feet and collapsed against me, panting hard. I could feel his softening cock press against mine, hot and damp and sexy as hell. He wriggled against me, his stomach rubbing the tube, pressing against all my bloated flesh, but this time, I didn’t mind. This time, I pulled him close and used my other hand to tilt his head back so I could kiss his swollen lips.
52
The taste of my salty jizz in his mocha-sweet mouth made my taste buds dance. It was perfection, even when he got overexcited and our teeth clashed painfully. He pulled away, breathless with laughter.
“I’d better get going,” Ollie said, looking at his watch. “Shit! I’m gonna have to drive like a maniac to finish my round on time.”
“You’ll come back later, though?” I didn’t want to sound all needy, but I didn’t think I could bear him being away from me for too long. I wanted to stay in this little bubble of ours, where I felt happy and desirable and free from anxiety.
“You try stopping me.” Ollie pressed a quick kiss to my lips before tucking himself away and zipping up his trousers. To look at him, you wouldn’t know what he’d just been up to. Not unless you’d seen him ten minutes before when his lips were about five shades lighter and nowhere near as swollen.
I, on the other hand, was naked, apart from a pair of spunk-spattered jeans pooled around my ankles. I made a halfhearted attempt to reach for my T-shirt.
He grinned and gave me a little wave on his way out of the kitchen. I was too knackered to move.
“Laters, Ben.”
I couldn’t wait.
It wasn’t until three hours later when I walked into my bedroom and saw the stack of dialysate boxes that the bubble burst. What had I been thinking? The drip stand I could probably hide in the wardrobe, but I had no chance of shifting all those boxes out—they weighed a ton. I sat down heavily on the edge of the bed and started hooking myself up to drain the last bag. Maybe I could borrow the throw from the sofa and chuck it over the boxes. The brick red wouldn’t really go with the dove-grey-and-olive colour scheme in the bedroom, though, and it would probably just end up drawing attention to them.
I should have kept Zoe’s old room as a spare bedroom rather than turning it into an office. We could have slept in there. Of course, I was making an assumption that he’d actually want to stay the night. How much did I really know about Ollie? I knew his mouth tasted like chocolate and he gave great head, but I knew nothing concrete about his life. I had no idea where he lived or what his last name was. I didn’t even know his phone number, for fuck’s sake.
Maybe he did this sort of thing with other guys he delivered to, like some randy porn cliché. I had no reason to think I was anything special.
Except for the way he’d looked at me when he stroked the skin on my belly.
My mobile rang, and I considered leaving it but then fished it out of my pocket.
“Hello?” I snapped.
“Good afternoon, is that Mr. Ben Lethbridge?” a woman’s voice asked.
“You’d better not be trying to sell me something,” I growled.
She was ever the professional. “I’m calling from the Oxford Transplant Centre. I have some good news for you, but I’ll need to ask you a few security questions first to confirm your identity.”
I could hardly hear her through the noise of my whirling thoughts but answered the questions on autopilot.
“Okay, that’s all confirmed. Mr. Lethbridge. Are you currently at your home in Reading?”
I answered, although the words sounded choked, and my heart was about to drum its way through my rib cage.
“That’s good. I’m going to need to ask you to pack an overnight bag and make your way here straight away. We have a possible match for a kidney and 54
pancreas donor. Please don’t eat or drink anything as you’ll be going straight into surgery if we have a positive cross-match and your physical examination is clear. Do you have any questions you’d like to ask me?”
My mind raced. I knew there were things I could ask, but I also knew they weren’t allowed to tell me any personal details about the donor. In the end, it was simpler just to say no and hang up the phone.
I sat there for a long moment, stunned. Fear and excitement lurked somewhere inside me, but right now, it was hard to get any kind of purchase on my emotions. I’d hoped for this for so long, and now the possibility of a transplant was so close, I just felt numb. In the end, I picked up the phone again and called Zoe.
Her high-pitched squeals made me feel even weirder inside, but at least after talking to her, I was able to get up and pack a bag while I waited for her VW
Beetle to pull up outside. I wondered about what reading matter to take with me.
I was currently stuck in the middle of a heavy-going sci-fi series that wasn’t really gripping me. My gaze fell on the pile of comics, and my heart gave a pang.