Walked for Miles

D. (divinedetail@emailaccount.com)

It was late that night, and he was alone. His wife had gone out of town for the weekend, and he was spending his late night wandering online looking at porn, tweaking a line or two in a short story, and drinking his way through a four-pack of Guinness. Cans were never as good as bottles, but he took what he could get.

He was wearing a pair of pyjama pants that were tented by an erection that he stroked lazily through the fabric, not really trying too terribly hard. He hadn't even found anyone to chat with, and it was far less enjoyable when he felt completely on his own. Not that he stopped; of course. He even slipped his hand inside a time or two to caress the smooth, warm shaft directly, his lips parting automatically, his pulse picking up slightly.

The doorbell rang, and he quickly tucked himself back in and tried to adjust before answering. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chanted with each step down the stairs. Who the hell would be at his door on a Saturday night? Probably someone at the wrong house. Or some kids playing a prank. At those thoughts, he decided to pull the curtain back a bit before opening.

A boy stood there, trembling from the cold, pivoting back and forth on one foot while the other stayed still. His breath was visible in the cold November air. He was lithe, curly-headed, his skin smooth and pale, with high red marks in his cheeks. Unaware the older man was watching, he licked his lips nervously and prepared to knock again.

Before he could, the man found the lock and turned it, opening the door in one smooth motion. "Hayden, god," he said, gathering the young man into his arms. "You're cold as the grave, get your ass in here."

Inside, they embraced again. "Darin," the younger man finally chattered out, shivering in the circle of the older man's arms. "I had to walk for miles to get here. I ran out of money after the first transfer." Their lips brushed together, just for a moment, then they walked together into the living room.

"What are you doing here?" Darin asked -- not accusingly, but as if some magical creature had wandered into his house and was inviting him along on a fairy-tale adventure. "I mean -- it's great to see you, you look amazing. But, what are you doing here?"

They'd met several years before online -- when Hayden was technically illegal, in fact. Darin had been very careful not to start out flirting with the boy, but they had quite a bit in common despite the age difference -- not just books they both enjoyed, or songs that spoke to them (though those were there), but philosophies, things they both believed to be true that not many others around them did. They were friends, Darin was a mentor of sorts to Hayden, particularly as he came out (perversely enough, as Darin himself was only out as bisexual to his close friends), they eventually considered each other to be family of a sort ... and, in the end, they had become lovers, if only in the shadow world of the internet.

But they had never met. They had talked about it, but it always seemed too dangerous -- Darin was married, of course, and Hayden was involved and still lived with his parents. And somewhere behind the conversations, there was always the question, as well -- what if actually meeting in person ruined the connection they had up to that point? What if they were only good together in fantasies, and they lost something that had become more important than either of them could ever admit to?

Darin had always been the one to voice these cautions, feeling that he owed it to the younger man to be more responsible; but they'd both spoken so extensively on the subject that he knew they felt the same. And now, here was the object of his affections, stealing away out of imagination and into his life. He wasn't sure whether he should laugh or cry or kiss the boy again, harder.

They sat down on the couch together. Darin automatically put his arm along the top, and Hayden leaned back against it, his curls brushing against bare skin. Darin shivered, and dropped his fingers down to stroke the side of Hayden's neck as he explained:

"I couldn't take it," he said, sucking on his bottom lip while he put his words together. "Every time, we're like, 'Maybe' or 'Some day' and I just needed to know, now, while Sandy's away and I know we have the place all to ourselves --"

He stood then, knees shaking though the chill had gone from his cheeks, and toyed with the zipper on his black hooded sweatshirt. "I needed to know how it would be," he continued, "if I came here, just one time, and did this --" Suddenly, he pulled the zipper the rest of the way down, revealing that he wore no shirt beneath. He shrugged out of the jacket, and it fell to the floor.

Darin felt like he couldn't breathe. He licked his lips without knowing that he was doing it, and slowly began to reach out his hand. Apparently too slowly, because Hayden, who was mesmerized by the fingers reaching closer, moaned, "Now, oh please, god, touch me now ..."

Tentatively, the older man's fingertips caressed Hayden's ribcage, and now it was he who shivered. One hand slid down to his thigh, and he began toying with the rapidly-rising bump in his tattered jeans. Darin's hand moved up further, his middle finger sliding along the side of the boy's left nipple, and Hayden hissed, "Yesssss ..."

He bent his face toward Darin, looking for a kiss, and was startled by how quickly the older man's free hand tangled in his curly hair and pulled his head down. The kiss was hungry, aching with years of pent-up passion, and Hayden found himself almost too weak to stand. He swayed there, Darin's tongue surrounding his, claiming it, slipping back and forth against it, and almost didn't notice the additional burst of pleasure as finger and thumb closed softly on that nipple, and began to tug at it.

Hayden undid the button at the top of his jeans and slowly slithered out of them until they were falling down his thighs. Darin's hand followed, falling from Hayden's curly hair to his bare shoulder, down the curve of his back to his hip, fingers curling around the curve of his ass and stroking it through the plain cotton fabric of his black jockey shorts, slipping down to the back of his thigh and sliding up and down possessively. Finally, just when Hayden thought the other man's touch was going to drive him mad, the hand slid around to the front and cupped him, stroking through the cloth from beneath his balls up the underside of his shaft, then teasing across the head until precome soaked through.

Hayden whimpered, rocking his hips forward. "Please ..." he begged softly, shadows from the table lamp causing his shadow to extend across the wall up to the ceiling. He looked up, and could see how it shook.

With a guttural groan that came from somewhere deep in his chest, Darin reached until his arms were around the younger man and pulled him down to the couch again, sucking on his lower lip and kissing him again, deeply, both of them moaning and gasping as their tongues entwined.

Hayden had landed half straddling Darin's lap, and he hunched his hips forward until his slim erection brushed against the thick, commanding swell of the older man's, both imprisoned by their slight garments. He began to roll his hips back and forth, his buttocks clenching as he ground his cock against Darin's, the kiss becoming even wilder, the moans louder. The scent of their combined arousals began to rise and fill the room.

Darin pulled back from the kiss for a moment to slip his t-shirt off, immediately pulling the slender, youthful body close against his the moment it had been cast aside. Both of them shivered at so much skin in contact -- Darin's palms slid up and down Hayden's back frantically, while Hayden chose to toy with his lover's chest hair, teasing his fingertips down to the curve of his belly and back up.

Their nipples met now and then as they writhed together, and the sensation seemed to drive Hayden crazy. Finally, just at the same moment that Darin slid his fingertips beneath the waistband of those jockeys in the back, Hayden slid forward until he was straddling Darin's cock fully, his own painfully hard erection pressed into the older man's belly, and began to slide back and forth as if he were a boy scout trying to start a fire. He broke the kiss and cried out into the still of the apartment, his voice echoing from the walls and ceiling as Darin's fingers slipped further down, and one finally brushed against his hole until it opened up.

Darin gasped when he slid his finger into his lover's ass, expecting to have to work to get it inside but finding that Hayden had lubed himself up before arriving. He gripped the invading digit strongly, slipping up and down against it, impaling himself deeper and clutching Darin's shoulders, moaning, "Yes, yes" in between deep, passionate kisses.

Darin's face was red; he felt like he was being consumed by fire. Without pulling his lips from the younger man's, he managed to both slip his pyjama pants off and tug down Hayden's shorts, both of them fully bare to each other in what seemed like one single motion. For the slightest moment he paused there, as their respective cocks brushed together in passing, and looked into Hayden's eyes. "I love you," he said quietly, simply, and then kissed again, twice as hard.

Hayden wanted to respond, but he had no chance -- suddenly, he was being fucked, deeply and expertly, their bodies rising and falling in perfect harmony. Almost before he knew Darin's cock was inside him, they had found a rhythm -- and at the same time, he knew, he revelled in each sensation as if they were coming slowly enough to be savoured. Somehow, he slowed the moments for himself until he could focus on the blunt head first parting his hole, slipping inside him, the way the shaft forced him open, conquered him inch by inch, the spread at the base as he pushed down as far as he could to take it all.

For Darin, there was no slowing -- this was the culmination of too much yearning, too many conversations that had left him aching for this man, needing to be one body with him, and it was all he could do to hold back from exploding the first moment he plunged into that slick, slippery, impossibly warm and tight grip. He squeezed his eyes shut, willed the rising heat within him to subside enough that he could enjoy this for a time, but it was all he could do, and he could not slow himself. He plunged deep into the younger man, lifting him bodily from the couch, gasping as they crashed back down again and were forced even closer together. He did it again, and again, and again.

Suddenly, Hayden felt his whole body tense up, a tingling wave of pleasure washing through him, and before he could even gasp to warn his lover, he was coming, spurting wildly between Darin's body and his own, hitting each of their chests several times, semen dripping down between them, bellies catching some of it, the rest trickling down between his thighs. He thought a few drops might have slid deep enough that Darin's thrusting might force them inside his own so-willing bottom, and the idea almost made him aroused enough to come again. He wrapped his arms around Darin's neck, now needing to push the other man over the same cliff's edge, and chanted under his breath, "Yes, yes, god, come in me, fill me, god ..."

It was a plea Darin could never have resisted -- and had no desire to. When Hayden's murmurs moved to, "God, I love you, too," and he seemed to be literally bouncing up and down in the older man's lap, Darin leaned back, letting it take him. He shook until Hayden thought he'd fall off, thrust deeper than ever, his moan becoming a brutal, savage howl, and burst, deep in the tightest, warmest grip he'd ever dreamt of feeling.

He flooded Hayden, liquid heat invading to every crevice, overflowing, pistoning in and out of his ass until the tremors began to subside and he slowed, bit by bit, until they were both lying tangled against the back of the couch, gasping, completely limp in each other's arms. Their chests were pressed together, and both heartbeats seemed to hammer away in perfect time.

When he could move again, Darin pulled Hayden tighter into his arms, and they kissed tenderly. They were still connected physically, and there was no question in either of their hearts that they would always be connected emotionally, as well. "Was it everything you hoped for?" the older man asked, already knowing what the answer would be.

Hayden smiled wearily, and found enough energy to wiggle his hips and tease Darin's hardness still slipping back and forth inside. "All that, and a hundred miles more," he giggled, finding his lover's lips so they could kiss until they were ready to do it again.