Date: Wed, 09 May 2007 14:32:18 -0400 From: Markheaven Tshuma Subject: They Say- Chapter 30 Chapter 30 **General Disclaimer. Don't read this if you know you shouldn't.** They say confidence is key. Zach- "Relax. Calm down. You're going to be fine, trust me," Charles reassured me. It wouldn't be fine. I couldn't calm down. Why did I think this would be a good idea? What the hell was wrong with me? I couldn't go. "You're going," Charles said almost reading my mind. "And you're going to be fine. You look like a million bucks. Fuck, I'd have sex with you. You're gonna have Chris drooling on that pedestal with his wife. Trust me." And then it hit me. Charles was so confident about everyone else. He was confident about me and Chris and then me and Shane. When it came to it, he was even confident of Jesse and Brooklyn's relationship. Why was it, then, that he always second guessed himself? Charles- I was fucking pissed. I was angry. I wasn't going to be painted out to be some raging jealous boyfriend when I didn't want to be painted to be a boyfriend in the first place. How dare Brooklyn accuse me of being jealous? Fuck that shit. And when I get angry, that's exactly what I do. I fuck shit. Jesse- I looked at Marco as he slept. It was early yet, not even nine o'clock, and we were both asleep. What were we? A couple? It felt nice. His arm was around me and I felt safe. I liked the feeling. I liked Marco. I looked at the clock what seemed like a moment later and realized I'd been thinking about his touch for two hours. I loved the feeling. Did I love Marco? Denton- I was on the prowl. It was early, but the guys were already out in full force. It was my first time at a gay bar, and I'd had to drive over an hour to get there. I didn't want to run into anyone I knew, so I went across town. I wanted it, badly. I wanted anyone- anything. Anything except the guy I'd fallen in love with. This was my chance to play before I had to admit my feelings for Mitchell. Tonight, I wanted anyone but him. Charles- "Wow! So you definitely must be rolling in the dough, then," I said as the banker in a nicely cut Italian suit stood next to me, drinking his cocktail and smiling at me. I touched his arm casually. "Damn. You'd think as an investment banker you wouldn't have much time to work out." "There's a gym in our office," he replied. He was cute enough. Taller than me by about an inch. A little older. He was obviously Chris' age which meant he was in his mid twenties. He had a slight five o'clock that made him look a little older and much sexier. "You must spend a lot of time down there," I said, looking him up and down, pausing about halfway through. I was flirting shamelessly and we both liked it. "Let me buy you a drink," he offered. "Can't," I replied. "I'm not twenty-one." I held up my hand to show that I didn't have a wristband. "Don't worry about it. I know the bartender." He smiled. I smiled. Brooklyn was at the back of my thoughts. "Well, that's very kind of you..." I paused. I didn't know his name. "Madison. Madison Gray." Zach- I scanned the room. Where the fuck was he? Shouldn't he be like in full view? He was after all the one getting married. Why couldn't I see him? "Interesting seeing you here," I heard a voice say. I didn't recognize it. I turned around to see a dashing red-headed women standing in front of me. She was wearing a nice slim little white dress and looked like she could be a super model. She smiled slightly with her bright red lips. I knew immediately who she was. "You must be Whitney," I said calmly. "Nice to meet you." "Likewise," she replied, not betraying a thing with her tone. "And you must be the guy who tried to ruin my marriage by fucking my husband." Jesse- "Let's do dinner tomorrow," I said as he was leaving. He'd woken up just before midnight and decided he wanted to sleep at home. "I'll have to see," he replied. "I might be studying." "No problem," I said. "I guess I'll see you on Monday or something." "Ok," he said with no real conviction. "I'll call you." Then he left. Charles- "So what brings you to this establishment tonight?" he asked me. I was holding my drink, sipping it slowly. "I'm escorting a friend. He's close to Chris," I replied. "Oh," he said, sounding mildly dejected. "I guess I'm late. I didn't know you were with someone." "I'm actually not. We're just friends." His face lit up. Then I suddenly felt a pang of guilt. I couldn't lead this guy on. No matter how much I wanted to hurt Brooklyn that night. I couldn't do it, and his million-dollar smile made me realize that. "Actually," I continued. "I do have a boyfriend, though. Kinda." "Kinda? What is this kinda boyfriend's name?" he asked. "Brooklyn," I replied. "Interesting. Is he here?" "No," I replied. "He's at home." "What kind of boyfriend lets a cute guy like you out by himself?" The guy was fishing. It was cute. "He's confident," I replied. Then Madison did something utterly unexpected. He leaned in really close to me. I could feel the left side of his body next to mine. Then he whispered sexily, "So am I." I blushed. "Really?" I asked a little skeptically but intrigued. He was cute. I'd let him think he had chance, if only because it was entertaining me. "Confident about what?" "I know that you like me," he said. He was being bold, but with the confidence he'd promised. "Really?" I said incredulously. "I like you?" "You like me," he said. "What makes you think that?" If this guy thought I was easy, he was in for a surprise. "I just do," he said. He took a sip of his drink. Then he added, smugly. "And if for some reason I'm wrong, and you don't like me, I'm confident you will by the end of the night." "Well," I said coyly. "You'd better get to working on that." I stood up off my stool to walk away. "Wa, wait... Where are you going?" he asked. "I'm putting you're theory to the test," I said. "Then why are you leaving?" he asked. He was still flashing his sexy smile. At no point did he ever look or sound desperate. "Well," I replied. "You can't make me like you if I'm not here. So, good luck with that, Madison." I smiled at him and turned around. This was going to be a fun night. Denton- I didn't know the first thing about being gay. It was funny: the sex came easy. Sucking dick, getting fucked, that part was easy. The hard part was talking to people, meeting people, finding interesting people. I was asked to dance by at least three guys that could have been my father. It didn't help that I was no where near a university, so everyone out was in their thirties or higher, but I was expecting there to be someone interesting in the place. And the ones that were younger simply weren't cool. One guy offered me a drink, then left, leaving me there to pay for both of ours. It was harder than I thought. I had no clue what to say, what signs to pick up on, what cues to give. It was way too hard. "You look like you're having a miserable time," one of the busboys said as he cleared the space next to me on the bar. "Is it that obvious?" I replied. He looked young, my age, maybe a little younger. "Painfully," he said. "And you're never gonna get a guy looking as down as you do." He was cute. He had a country charm about him, even down to the voice. He was working quickly, picking up glasses and putting them in his bin. "Then how do I go about getting a guy?" I asked, as if I'd never done it before. "You start by flashing that crystal-white smile I know you have." I couldn't help but smile at that. "Then you let me make you a drink." "It's ok," I protested softly. "I was actually on my way out." "You've been sitting here pathetically for too long for me to take no as answer. I get off work in a second and I live right around the corner. I've picked up on a few things and I'll make you a drink you'll never forget. Trust me." I did. His voice was soft but deep. His "s's" had a soft "sh" to them and his "I's" carried that light twang. If nothing else, I was falling in love with his voice. It didn't hurt that even in the dim lighting of the bar I could tell he had a strong face and soft curly blond hair. "I guess I can do that," I said after a second's hesitation. "Good," then he turned to the guy behind the bar. "Tell Pete I'm leaving. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon." "Alright Preston," the guy behind the bar replied. "You have a good night." He winked at Preston as Preston put the last of the dishes in his bin and disappeared behind a door next to the bar. He came back pulling a polo shirt on over where his work shirt had been. He was carrying a small bag I assumed he'd taken from his work locker. "You ready..." I hadn't told him my name. "Denton," I replied. "That's an awesome name. You musn't be from around here. I've never heard a name like that before." "I'm from the north," I replied. I tried not to sound too pretentious. "I'm Preston," he said, ushering me out of the door. "How do you feel about getting to know a country boy a little bit better." For once I didn't lie to myself about the situation. I was incredibly excited. Tonight was gonna be a good night. Charles- "Well it looks I've found you," he said from behind. I was standing on the balcony porch looking out. "Who says I was hiding?" "Well you definitely ran," he replied. He was still smiling. "Like I said," he began after a pause. "I'm confident." "And arrogant," I added quickly. I was smiling as well. "Do you like that kind of thing?" I didn't answer. "You look like the kind of guy that likes that kind of thing." He took my silence as license to step a little closer to me. "Let's just talk," he said changing his tone. "I wouldn't dream of coming between you and your boyfriend. He must be a really good guy." "He is," I replied. He was. "What's he like?" Madison asked me. What kind of question was that? Whey did he want to about Brooklyn? About the competition. "Why do you want to know?" "Because," he said without missing a beat. "Maybe if I act a little more like him and a little less like myself, someone like you will fall in love in with me one day." It was by far the cheesiest thing he could have ever said. It was taken straight out of a Hallmark made-for-TV movie. But I bought it. And I fell for it. And for a second, he looked me right in the eye and I found this attractive guy even more attractive than I thought. This was going to be an interesting night. Zach- "Excuse me?" I asked. This was upsurd. "Whitney," I heard Chris' voice from behind me. Way to come to the rescue. "Stay out of this Chris," she said. Her voice was as pleasant as ever. "Don't make a scene," he warned. I turned to face Chris. I was caught in between the two of them. "I didn't come here to be attacked," I said trying my hardest to stick up for myself. "Then why did you come here, sir?" Whitney asked. "You surely weren't expected hugs and kisses." There was a pause. She looked at Chris and with a voice so cold, yet masked with sweet pleasantries whispered. "At least not from me. Of course, I can't speak for my husband." "You didn't tell her I was coming," I said. It was both a statement a question. "I'm sorry I put you in this position," was all Chris could come up with. "I didn't know Whitney would react like this." "Really?" I exhaled louder than I should have, catching the attention of the people immediately around us. "And how was she supposed to react? You made it sound like me coming here would be ok, Chris. Not some ambush. What the fuck were you thinking?" I turned. There were eyes on me, but I couldn't stop. "Actually, what the fuck was I thinking? I thought I could come back here and gain some closure. That I could possibly see you and not feel anything and that would mean I've moved..." I trailed. I couldn't finish the sentence because it would be admitting what I didn't have the strength to admit- that I still hadn't moved on. "I think you should leave," Whitney said. Her eyes were the only clue she gave that she wasn't having a friendly conversation. Everything else about her was poised and beautiful. I shivered. "It wasn't a good idea for you to be here." I was paralyzed. "You don't have to go," Chris said to me. He turned to Whitney. "He's my guest." "He's you're lover," she replied. I swallowed hard. "Ex-lover," I interjected softly. No one heard. "That was then, Whit," Chris said. "Please. Don't make a scene here." "I will not celebrate our marriage in the same room with him," she said. She pointed a finger at me and I almost cringed. "If you value our marriage..." Chris cut her off. "If you value ours." There was a long pause where no one spoke. I thought about making a break for it, but I couldn't run in front of all these people. I just stood there helplessly. "He is not the only reason our marriage fell apart. I love you, Whitney. But Zach and I are friends and I value that friendship. Not as... not as much as I... I love you Whitney. Believe that." There was a pause. No one spoke. Jesse- I made an executive decision that night. It took most of the evening but I made it. It didn't take a genius or another reading of "He's Just Not That Into You" to know that the Italian wasn't going to call me back unless he wanted sex. The sooner I came to that realization, the better I thought. So why stress it? Why not have fun? I was being a rare opportunity here. An opportunity I hadn't seized since I came to college. I wasn't tied down. I didn't want to be, not after Charles, Brooklyn and now what I thought I had with Marco. So I wouldn't be. I wouldn't let myself be tied down. From now on, it was hook-ups and one-night stands. If they called, they'd call. If not, my life would go on. No more worrying. No more. Not even a little bit. Denton- He was definitely better than I'd expected. His apartment, or loft more like it, was directly above the bar he worked at. In fact, it took us all of 3 minutes to climb the two flights of stairs. "It isn't much," he said. "But it suffices for a simple guy like myself." "I'm sure its perfect," I replied. And it was It was really small, with a low roof, but the place was immaculately clean. There was one futon in the corner, a TV sitting atop an old chest of drawers and a board on top of cinder blocks in the middle to be a coffee table. "Have a seat," he said. "I'll be right back." I took a seat on the futon, taking off my shoes. He came back a minute later with two drinks in matching martini glasses. "Be careful," he said. "These are pretty strong." "I like strong things," was all I could come up with. The drink was amazing. It was fruity and tart but sweet at the same time. "You like it?" he said sitting to join me on the low couch. "I do," I said. I couldn't tell if he could tell how nervous I was. "You don't do this a lot do you?" he asked. "Is it that obvious?" I asked. "Painfully," he repeated the line from earlier. "Don't worry. Neither do I. You're actually the first guy I've brought home since I moved to the city. It's kind of a drag out here." "Yeah," I responded. "I guess I agree." I finished my drink. He smiled at me. "Lets a little more comfortable," he said, standing up and offering me a hand. We moved into his bedroom which was just as clean as the other room. Everything was in place, albeit there was much to put in place, and you could tell he cared about his space. "This is where I sleep," he said. He paused. "And I guess do other things." I smiled at him and then leaned in to kiss him. The guy had a solid frame, even more solid than my own or even Glass'. His arms were huge and toned, but not muscular like a body builder. He really was a corn-fed country boy. I moaned in his mouth as my hand explored his hard body. He gently lowered me onto his bed, a mattress on the floor, and then lowered his own body on top of me. From the second we made contact, I could tell this guy had a huge hard cock under his tight jeans. I wanted it so badly. The new position spurred us both on and before we knew it, we were kicking off clothes and rubbing our entire bodies together, moaning and groaning under each other's touch. "Have you ever been fucked?" he asked between a hot kiss to my nipples. "Yeah," I gasped. And then I felt down for his huge dick. "But never by anything this big," I said truthfully. "Wanna give it a go?" he asked. He was down to my cock now, licking it longways. "It's up to you." I didn't know if I wanted to or not. Was I ready to get fucked by anyone besides Glass? In a split decision I decided I was and I pushed the guy's head down past my balls and to my ass. Taking that as an indication, he immediately began licking my ass, opening me up. "Oh god, Preston," I screamed holding his curly hair in a death grip. It felt so amazing to have him down there. "You ready?" he asked after eating out my ass for a few minutes. "I'm gonna go get a condom." The few minutes he was gone were the worst two minutes of my life. I wanted his cock in me so bad. My hands were still clutching the sheets even when his body wasn't touching mine. It was like he controlled every pleasure in my body without even having to touch me. "Alright, city-slicker," he said raunchily from above me. "Let's go." He pulled up my legs over his shoulders and slowly eased his cock deep down inside of me. He fucked me like I hadn't been fucked, ever. Were as Glass performed under duty and obligation and Mitchell performed under admiration and love, this guy was primal. His touch was animalistic and every thrust could have been the last and I would have been satisfied. He looked me in the eye, not because he thought I was better than he or that he controlled me, but because he wanted to make sure I was enjoying his body as much as he was enjoying mine. He was selfish. Not in a bad way, but he was. He went in me deeper and deeper because he wanted to reach a place no one had ever been before. Every once in a while, my eyes would roll back in my head and he would smile. "You enjoying my dick, Denton?" he would ask. Anyone else and it would have sounded vulgar and disgusting. This guy made it sound hot. "I'm, uh. I'm loving it," I responded. For everything he did to make himself feel better, he made damn sure to make me feel good. I barely had time to think as he pounded away. I hated to compare him to Mitchell and Glass, but I found myself thinking that I'd been selling myself short. If this was the kind of guy that was out there for me, I should have come out here a long time ago. "Uhh," he moaned loudly. "I'm about to cum, babe," he said. "Where do you want it?" I was too far past my ecstasy point to respond. All I wanted was to stay on cloud nine forever. The last few thrusts were so hard, so raw and so fierce I thought this kid was going to split me in half. And then, like a calm in the middle of a tornado, everything stopped. I opened my eyes and above me, smiling down at me while holding the weight of my body on his shoulders, Preston erupted inside my ass like nothing I'd ever felt before. The first surge of his cum into the condom sent a rippling effect through my entire body and I pulsed weakly under his strength. The second surge sent me so far over the edge, I thought my cock was going to explode as cum sprayed all over my body in one motion. The third surge made me jolt closer to him so that our torsos were almost touching. My breathing was so fast I thought I would have a heart attack if it got any faster. The forth surge was weaker but equally as powerful. His cock swelled to a height it hadn't been yet, and buried deep inside of me, I felt every contour of his dick. The fifth surge was the first in which he began to slide out of me with ease. There was no gaping hole that needed to be filled as he exited my ass because he did so slowly I could feel every movement inside of me. The sixth surge was even weaker, but just as hot as the first. Preston's cock was rock hard and still pulsing. He had to have filled the condom up by now. The seventh surge landed on my semi-hard sticky cock. He was completely out of me, but he was still dripping some serious cum. I couldn't tell were his jizz ended and mine began. The eighth surge happened after Preston had collapsed on my body and was rubbing my wet and sticky chest with his hand. He felt so strong and amazing. I looked at him right after the ninth surge and realized that he'd fallen asleep. His cock released one more surge of cum and I quickly fell asleep next to him. Charles- I knew it was a mistake from the moment I did it, but I couldn't stop myself. He'd driven me back to the apartment and I'd tried to say goodnight in the car before anything else happened. Then he insisted on walking me up to my room, so I let him. The entire time, I was assuring myself that I wasn't going to kiss him. Sure we'd had a great time. We'd talked. He'd told me all about his family, what he was doing in the city and what his plans were. Apparently he was a banker who knew Chris from college. Madison had been in Chris' fraternity but had graduated three years before him, so he was quite a bit older. But he was hot. He knew all the right things to say, when to whisper and move in close and when to stop. He knew that I loved Brooklyn. He even asked questions about him. I knew that if we kissed tonight, it would be because of me and not because Madison was forcing anything. I knew I was making a mistake. "Goodnight," he said at the door. "Goodnight," I replied. He looked at me. "You don't have to invite me in," he said respectfully. "Who said I was thinking about inviting you in?" I had been thinking about it. "No one. I just got a look." "I can't," I replied. "That's fine," he said sweetly. "I completely understand. Tonight was fun and I'm glad to have met you." "Likewise," I replied. I opened the door to go in. And then it happened. "Look," he said turning to me. "Here's my card. Call me if you, well, you know, ever wanna talk or hang out or something." I took the card. I walked inside. I would have been proud of myself for resisting the biggest temptation of my life- a hot guy that was clearly in to me. But I couldn't be proud of myself. I couldn't have felt so low. Not because I'd cheated. Not because I'd betrayed Brooklyn. But because there in my hand was a number I knew I would call, not in a moment of weakness, but in a moment of contemplation. I put the number in my wallet and went into my room. Marco was awake and on his computer. "You left you're cell phone here," he said to me. "Brooklyn has been calling all night." I felt mildly guilty, but like anyone preparing to commit adultery, the feeling passed quickly. All I could think about was Madison and when I would have the strength and courage to pick up the phone and give him a call. They say confidence is key.