CHAPTER 14
Bruno
My first thought as I’m struggling to wake up is how bad is my hangover? I’m still groggy as hell, but I’m instantly recalling how much champagne I swilled with Gabriela. Bradford and I were legless when we got back here to his place, well past the ability to fuck. I run my hand down to my dick and find it’s hard as a rock. Looks like I’ve passed test number one. Lifting my head, I discover it’s not aching. I guess it pays to only drink the good stuff. Test number three—I run my hands over my belly. No nausea. In fact, other than my fuzzy head, I seem to have got off lightly.
Moving the sheet down, I turn my attention towards Bradford. He’s lying on his side away from me, his upper leg bent so he’s almost on his front. There’s a beam of light creeping through the window and it’s casting a glow right over his back and arse. The hair over his buns is almost luminescent. There’s no way I can resist this.
Leaning forward, I run my nose over his lumbar region, letting the fur tickle my nostrils. Slowly, I move further south, feeling that point where his back morphs into the cleft of his arse. One of my hands is already stroking his right arse cheek. I pull it outwards, separating the two burly mounds so I can have a good look inside his crack. I never fail to get a thrill when I see this. I love the thickness of the hair in there. I love how his skin tone gets darker at the deepest part. His puckered brown hole drives me fucking mad. And there’s little else in this world that gets me going more than the scent of Bradford’s morning arse. Every time I see him, he’s showered within an inch of his life. At moments like these, though, I manage to catch him unawares.
Lowering my face towards his little paradise, I sniff hard and begin to lick in slow, sensual strokes. Savouring the taste of him, I try my best to work out exactly what it is that I love so much. He’s not sweet or salty, he’s umami. That indescribable quality that gets me salivating. And the pheromones rushing into my nostrils are sending me fucking dizzy. I’m having way too good a time to go all animalistic on him. I want to wallow in this sensory fucking overload.
Bradford moans and moves his hips slightly, pressing his arse up against my mouth. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to have to jerk off,” he mumbles.
Oh, fuck yes. As much as I adore foreskins, uncut guys like me tend to jiggle our cocks too fast to get a really good look. Bradford’s technique is full visuals, though—the sight of him slowly rubbing his well-slicked hand up and down his cut cock instantly makes me want to come.
Pulling my tongue from his succulent pucker, I slowly massage it with my thumb as I reach over to the top drawer next to his sofa bed. There at the front is the bottle of Johnson’s Baby Oil we always use. “Get cracking,” I say, handing it to him.
Shuffling down the bed again, I fling his leg over so he’s on his back, grab him behind the knees, then push upwards till his feet are high in the air and his little cunt is smiling at me. Now I’m gonna go in for the kill.
“Jesus!” gasps Bradford, as I jam my tongue straight into his taut ring. I’m all done with that delicate licking now. I am gonna eat the absolute fuck out of this hot arse. In and out I thrust, grinding my face hard against him, twisting this way and that to try and get in even deeper. Now and again I deviate to his arse cheeks and his taint, biting, licking, and sucking, all the while keeping his wet little cunt in a holding pattern with my probing thumb.
Bradford’s hips are squirming and his arm is speeding up a bit. “You’re gonna make me come way too quickly, you know,” he pants.
There’s nothing that’ll spur me on faster than hearing those words. I live for that sort of thing. Every muscle in my body aches to give Bradford pleasure. I’ve been ramming my own hips into the mattress, coaxing my foreskin back and letting the friction against the sheets keep me in the horniest state possible. But now that’s not enough.
Letting go of one of Bradford’s legs, I reach down and grip myself where it feels the best. I am absolutely desperate to blow my load, and if I time it just right, it’s gonna be spectacular.
As I jerk my foreskin with increasing speed, I delve my tongue even further into Bradford’s hole. I’m jackhammering it now and he’s whining with even more intensity. “Keep going,” he rasps. “Please… Oh, God, I’m gonna blow…” He lets out a stifled screech as his body starts to tremble. When his arsehole clamps around my tongue and goes into a throbbing seizure, I hit the point of no return. My dick has never felt this good before. I could finish myself off right here, but there’s one more thing I have to do.
Clambering up and over Bradford, I stretch my foreskin back as soon as I feel that beautiful soreness deep inside me. I almost don’t make it, but I drive my cock into Bradford’s mouth just in time to let it rip. Throwing my head back and screwing up my eyes, I float off to a happy place as heavenly sensations wrack my body. A sublime ache is running from my arsehole all the way to the end of my dick. Every colossal squeeze of my prostate is propelling come right down Bradford’s throat and he’s swallowing rapidly in a series of gulping nasal moans. I can feel his tongue rubbing hard against the most sensitive part of my knob, making each spurt more exquisite than the one before.
After my balls are completely drained, after my shuddering subsides and I’m left utterly breathless, I finally look down again. Bradford is quietly staring up at me with his lips still wrapped around my dick. I feel like a fucking god . The devotion in his eyes tells me everything I need to know. I could never, ever give him up.
***
Once I’m out of the shower and almost finished drying myself, I hear voices outside. Wrapping the towel around my waist, I quietly open the bathroom door to eavesdrop.
“Nah, Davo. Don’t worry, we can use Brad’s pass, I’ll just go get it.” There’s a short pause. “Oh. What the hell are you doing here?”
“It’s my home, Jarrod. And it’s also my parking pass.”
Jarrod’s voice shoots right up. “Jesus, you’re such a petty little bitch!”
Incensed, I march out of the bathroom and right down the hall.
“Well, this is my fucking towel,” I hear Jarrod snap. I reach the living room just in time to see him ripping the offending item from around Bradford’s waist, leaving him cowering there naked.
Right. It’s on. Yanking off my own towel, I yell out at him. “Hey! You’d better have this one as well, then.” I throw it at Jarrod and it lands right on his face as he whips his head around in my direction. “Careful, it’s covered in come stains.”
Jarrod throws the towel on the floor in disgust, just as a familiar face walks out of the bedroom and stops dead in his tracks. “Bruno?” he says.
“ Brendan? ” I can hardly believe my eyes.
“‘Brendan’? What do you mean, ‘ Brendan’ ?” Bradford’s face contorts with confusion as his attentive dog rushes up to his side. “Isn’t this ‘Davo’?”
It takes a split second for the penny to drop. “Brendan Davey ,” I sigh. Jesus, fuck. What a farce.
Jarrod's head is flicking back and forth. His nostrils are flared and his teeth are bared. “ This clown is your partner?” he snarls at Brie. “What the FUCK is going on here?” Turning to Bradford, he lunges forward and shoves him hard, sending him stumbling into the bookshelf behind.
“ Jesus , Jarrod!” gasps Brie.
With my face in kill mode, I fly at Jarrod, crashing into him with my chest. Like a typical bully, the scrawny bitch scurries backwards till he’s in the kitchen doorway. His eyes immediately drop to my naked crotch.
“Go on, get a good look!” I bark, flipping my cock and balls up and down with my hand. “Haven’t you got one of these?” I’m right up in his face again.
“ Braddy ,” Jarrod snipes, his eyes not leaving mine. “Tell your big fat boyfriend he can go fuck himself.”
“Hey. Come on,” Brie interjects, calmly putting his hand on Jarrod’s shoulder. “Let’s just get out of here, OK?” Good old Brie. Ever the peacekeeper. He shoots me a bewildered look as he steers Jarrod towards the hallway. Jarrod’s still bitching and moaning, but he’s led firmly down to the front door and suddenly they’re gone.
It’s only now I realise that I’ve ignored the most important person in the room. Turning to Bradford, I grab him by the arms and look him up and down. “Fuck, Blinky , I’m so sorry. Are you OK?”
Bradford looks rattled. Embarrassed. But he makes a painfully visible effort to smile. “I’m fine. I’ll live.”
“I really didn’t mean to interfere. I know it’s none of my business, but I just saw red.” I’m trying to work out how to say what I really need to. I don’t want him to feel any more emasculated than he might already be. “Please don’t think I was patronising you by stepping in.”
To my surprise, Bradford chuckles. After all the shit that’s just gone down, he actually laughs . “It was kind of hot, really. You’re my man and you came to my aid.”
The gentle glow in his eyes speaks volumes. You’re my man.
***
“Thanks for letting me stay last night,” says Bradford, as we sit down to the shabby breakfast of Eggs Florentine I’ve just made. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, staring at his plate. “I really hate that you had to see all that drama yesterday morning.”
He hasn’t broached this topic till now and I haven’t pushed him. He’s been as affable as ever, and I’m well aware his permasmile is hiding a lot more than he’s willing to let on. I’m torn, though. I don’t want to cross that line where caring concern turns into pushy intervention. He’s clearly a proud and independent man. I mean, just look at how he’s coped with the huge changes in his life. On the other hand, I’d hate for him to think I’m not showing him enough support.
“Hey,” I say as gently as possible, reaching out and taking hold of his hand. “I know it’s only been a few months, but we’re way past this, yeah? Don’t feel you have to put on a brave front with me. I'm here for it all.”
Bradford looks at me for a moment. “Bruno, I’m going to say something, and I don't want you to think I’m trying to lay any heavy expectations on you.” He’s fiddling nervously with his fork, but he doesn’t break eye contact. “I don’t know how I’d make it through all this if I didn’t have you around.”
Throw all your expectations at me, I want to say. I will do anything to try and make you happy. However, I don’t think bombarding him with my desperate desires is the most helpful way to respond right now.
We’re suddenly interrupted by the sound of the front door bursting open and heavy items being dumped on the floor. “Jesus, someone needs to teach straight men about the Neapolitan code.” My wayward ex-partner saunters into the room and stops short. “Oh, sorry! Didn’t know you had company.”
“Bradford, you’ve met Brie, haven’t you?” I shoot a smarmy smile across the room.
Brie screws up his face in distaste. “Ugh. Are we really using that name now?”
“Uh… maybe I should clear things up,” says Bradford. “Brendan?” Bradford’s dog is up lickety-split, trotting over to stand at his side.
“Your dog is called Brendan? So, what else? You have a cat called Lisa?” Brie’s in full sarky drag mode, and Bradford laughs dutifully.
“No. Brendan would go mental if I brought a cat into the house.”
“Well, at least Brie’s better than Davo .” Brie pulls out a chair and collapses onto it with dramatic flair. “Sorry about all the shit that went down yesterday, Bradford. Jarrod’s a bit out of control, but I've never seen him behave like that before.”
“Oh, I’m used to it.” Bradford’s smiling, but I can see his cheeks are flaming red.
Time for me to change the subject. “There’s coffee in the pot, Brie. I’ll get you one.” Hopping to my feet, I walk round the breakfast bar into the kitchen, and spot the suitcases Brie’s plonked down the end of the hall. “Oh, are you back now?”
“Yep. The house is tidy, there’s a quiche in the oven, and the landlords are on their way home as we speak. Last night’s hookup with the stinky straight guy was my swansong.”
“So… what’s this ‘Neapolitan code’?” I hear Bradford ask, and Brie and I burst into childish sniggers.
“Well, darl,” chirps Brie. “Think of the ice cream. Mister Straight Guy was desperate to be rimmed.”
“I’m confused,” says Bradford. “You mean you spread ice cream on his arsehole?”
I try to suppress a laugh, but it comes out as a snort.
“Not exactly, sweetie. Here, have one of these while I explain.” Brie picks out and unwraps one of the mini Snickers bars from the candy bowl in the middle of the table. Thrusting it at Bradford, he continues, ticking off each point on his fingers as he goes. “Vanilla means ‘I’m not going near that arse unless you’ve just stepped out of the shower’. Strawberry means ‘I like my men to have a little musky manscent down there’. ” He fixes his eyes on Bradford, whose gob is still stuffed with Snickers. “But nobody wants chocolate. Capisce? ”
Bradford heaves and coughs as he swallows. “Oh, God. I’m never gonna look at a pack of Fun Size the same way again.” He pops down his cup and gets to his feet. “Well, on that note, I’m gonna leave you two to catch up. Brie—thanks for the entertainment. Bru—thanks for the great brekky.”
“Let me give you a lift.” I’m already lunging to get my keys.
“Nah, really, it’s fine. Four-legged Brendan needs a good walk and we love this autumn weather.”
I follow Bradford along the hall, then admire the glimpse of his hairy bum crack as he squats down to harness Brendan. Standing up, he turns to face me. “Thanks for everything,” he says shyly. “I’ve really loved this time with you while Brie’s been away.” The smile on his face is tinged with a kind of sadness I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget.
“ Blinky, ” I whisper, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my cheek hard against his. “It’s not over. The cat’s out of the bag, now. We can see each other whenever we want and it doesn’t fuckin’ matter.” I ease my vice-like grip on the back of his skull and gently kiss his forehead. “And that cunt’s not gonna come anywhere near you whenever I’m around, alright?”
I urgently want to spill the beans about Brie and me breaking up, but there’s a good chance it’d come back to bite me in the arse. Sure, it might prompt Bradford to finally ditch that fucker, but logic and Oprah tell me that he’ll need a long break from relationships afterwards. And my dick and my heart are not gonna stand for that. I can’t stay away from him, so fuckbuddies it is for the moment.
With Bradford gone, I rejoin Brie at the dining table. “So… Jarrod ,” I start. “You know I’ve never cared who you rooted round with. But that dickwad?”
“He’s cute and he fucks like a jackrabbit,” shrugs Brie. “But you’re right. He’s a hot mess. We’ve only hooked up here and there, but I’ve noticed him getting a lot worse lately. One of his friends actually let something slip yesterday.” Brie eyes me for a moment, tight-lipped.
“Come on. I can see you’re dying to tell me.”
He leans forward secretively, as if the walls have ears. “He’s been suspended by the nursing board. They’re investigating him for supposedly sticking his fingers into the Oxy cupboard.”
“Really? Shit.”
“You know what those meth heads are like. Anything for a comedown.”
My head is swirling with this revelation. “Meth? And you overlooked this because… why?”
“He always told me he was on E,” retorts Brendan. “And I’m hardly gonna be a hypocrite after all the trips I took in my youth. Though you’d think at thirty-nine he would have woken up to himself by now.”
“Well, fuck me. I wonder if Bradford knows about all of this.”
“Tell him. Use me as the fall guy.” Brie stands up, gathers the cups and plates, then heads round to the kitchen. “After all the shit that’s just happened with him, I’m definitely keeping my distance, anyway.” Turning his back to me, he begins to stack the dishwasher.
“Leave that, Brie. It’s my mess.”
“Don’t be stupid. I’m already here, I may as well. Oh, and we should talk.” I look over to him, but he’s bobbed down out of sight. “Maybe we should think about putting this place on the market.”
It strikes me as a bit of a cop-out that Brie’s not saying this to my face. Then again, maybe it’s the only way he can bring himself to broach the topic. I feel grossly uncomfortable too, so I hope we can kill it off quickly. “Sure. Why not. Let’s get the wheels in motion. I can even move into Mum and Dad’s rumpus room for a while if it comes to that.”
With a final clink, Brie shuts the dishwasher door and turns to face me. “Well, that was a lot simpler than I thought it would be.”
He’s right. I feel at peace. A warm smile spreads across my face as I see my lovely best mate standing there, wiping his hands on a tea towel. “It doesn’t need to be a drama. We’re good, Brie. We’re always gonna be.”