11. John
11
JOHN
I have no business being intimate with Micah, and especially not in my bar, the place I threw myself into once he left. Yet the way he jumped in and helped like we were a team made me remember that once upon a time, we were.
But at this rate, I’m not even sure I’ll make it inside him. Just seeing him standing in my bar, with his exposed cock all flushed and stiff as I help him out of his jeans and briefs, makes the anticipation almost too much to bear.
I walk him over to the nearest chair and urge him to sit as I resume kneeling in front of him. I lick his cock, then kiss my way down to his balls just the way he likes. Years may have gone by, but I know his body inside and out. I know what makes him come faster, and sucking on his nut sac is one of the things that drives him wild.
“Wanna see you too,” he rasps as I draw away to reach for the lube.
“Don’t have to ask twice.”
He watches intently as I kick out of my sneakers and remove my jeans and underwear. My cock juts out, and the way he looks at me makes me want to bend him over a table, but all in due time.
“Always remember that pretty cock.”
“Yeah?” I pull him up to kiss him again because I can’t get enough of his plump lips, never could. My hand reaches behind him to palm his ass. “I dream about that pretty hole.”
He trembles. “Fuck, J.”
“That’s what I plan,” I tease, then urge him to face away from me. I run my hands down the globes of his ass as he leans forward, gripping the chair, exposing himself to me. I just stare for a long moment, wondering if I’m dreaming. Because getting to have him one more time is not something I take lightly.
I lick a stripe up his crease, and he cries out. He always loved being rimmed, and his reaction sends a shiver down my spine. I squeeze my cock to stave off erupting as I take my time licking, sucking, feasting on his hole. When I poke my tongue inside, his sobs turn hoarse, and he pleads with me to fuck him.
I grope for the lube and wet my fingers, then slide two between his cheeks and inside. I pump my digits in and out as he rocks against my hand.
As I’m about to grip his cock, he squirms. “J, can’t take it. Gonna come just like this.”
My fingers fumble with the wrapper, but I get it open and roll the condom down my shaft before liberally applying lube. I’ll likely have to mop again, but it’ll be worth it.
When my cock is finally lined up to his hole, he sinks his forehead against the back of the chair and breathes out. “Hurry.”
I kiss his shoulder as I prod my cock past the ring of muscle, already loosened from my tongue and fingers.
“Fuck yes,” Micah hisses, and though it doesn’t quite feel the same because of the condom, it’s still Micah and me fitting together perfectly. Almost too perfectly, and I clench my teeth, trying to keep my orgasm at bay. His ass is warm and tight, and I love hearing him lose his mind with me standing over him.
I watch as my cock splits his cheeks apart, and goddamn, if anyone walked in now and saw us, with Micah bent over the chair and me fucking into his perfect pink hole, they might actually be jealous.
I wrap my arm around his chest and pull him flush against me because I need to feel him, remember how he used to be mine. How right now he still feels like he belongs to me, like we belong to each other, as if no time has passed.
I kiss his ear, then lick the sweat along his nape. “I’ve never forgotten how this feels with you.”
“Me neither, and I never will.” Micah angles his head to meet my lips in a desperate kiss that makes my toes curl.
I keep the intimate hold, my front to his back, as I pound into him. When Micah bows his back, I know he’s about to break apart. I reach for his cock and stroke upward, watching in wonder as he cries out, his come filling my palm and dripping onto the floor.
That visual is all I need. I spurt inside the condom as everything around me distorts into a supernova. I’m hot, sweaty, and heaving as Micah slumps forward, limp and breathless against the chair.
As reality comes knocking, I soberly step back and reach for our clothes, then help Micah stand and clean up. My head aches as much as my heart, and I question if it’s wise to continue seeing this man while he’s here. But I also can’t seem to stay away. It pained me to watch him drive out of town—broke me, if I’m being honest—yet there wasn’t animosity between us. It had to do with dreams that extended beyond ourselves, and I remind myself I could’ve gone with him or begged him to stay. So I hurt him too. In so many ways, we’re both to blame. And the divide between us grew until we didn’t know how to reach each other anymore. So, we both stopped trying.
But just being in his company again makes that longing return, and when he sells Grandpa Malone’s house and leaves, I’ll be left wanting again. Wanting not only what we had, but who we’ve become.
Still, I can’t help asking, “Micah, what are we doing?”
He buttons his jeans as he meets my eyes. “Loving each other like we always have, probably always will. That was never the problem between us.”
“True.” I use a bar rag to wipe the floor with my foot. “But it also makes it harder when you leave.”
Again.
Before I can turn away, he reaches for me, pulling my body solidly against his.
“No one replaces you for me. It’s mostly been my own hand.” Mostly . “Besides, you’ve probably had plenty of men to keep you company.”
“Actually, it’s usually been women.”
“Yeah?” His breath wafts across my throat.
I nod. “Just how it’s been. Now help me lock up.”
Micah is pensive as he does so, as if mulling over my confession. It’s not like men haven’t been attractive to me. It’s only that women feel different enough, which has suited me fine. I don’t have to admit that the men were not him because he already knows it. The words don’t need to be spoken between us.
I don’t ask about his sex life because I’m not sure how much I want to know. I think of him being seduced by casting directors and kissing other actors on auditions. Maybe hooking up after a shift at the restaurant. No doubt we’ve both gotten our physical needs met, but it’s still too painful to admit openly.