Carter
Iam so excited to hang out with Nate alone and finally kiss him again.
Having his tongue deep in my mouth was so fucking hot last week, I need it again.
His tongue isn’t the only thing that I want deep in me.
It’s hard to know which sexual position I want or even if I will even like anal.
I am also so nervous to try and have sex.
Like, what if I have issues getting hard with Nate, like the issues I’ve had with the other people I attempted to have sex with?
I have so many thoughts on my mind as I wrap the corner near Christopher Street Train Station.
Thankfully, he wasn’t watching this afternoon’s preseason game when I had a mental breakdown on the field.
I had a solid few possessions during the Penguins game until the defender tackled me.
Being tackled was not the issue; it was him calling me a “faggot” afterward.
While I was getting up after the tackle, he mouthed the word in a clear derogatory way.
I doubt he knows that I am gay, but it still made me extremely anxious.
This incident led me to spiral out of control for the rest of the game, which ultimately resulted in my lovely first-quarter fumble.
I am fine now, but I clearly need to learn how to control my emotions.
Seeing Nate stand there in his striped t-shirt makes me so happy. Nate walks towards me with a glowing smile, which sends tingles down my spine. I can’t help but want to rip his clothes off and see what’s underneath.
Nate runs into me with a long hug and says, “Hi.” Such a simple “Hi” makes me smile.
I say back, “Hi.”
As we walk back towards my apartment, I show him a few of my favorite spots on Christopher Street and along the way.
I point to a cute 1,800-square-foot rental space, which I hope will become a cafe or hangout spot sometime soon.
There are no really good coffee shops near me, so a new cafe is necessary.
We get to my apartment complex and I hear Nate mutter, “This place is so bougie, holy shit.”
I grin and say, “I heard that, thanks. You’re not wrong, though.
Playing football really has its perks.” We pass Henry, my apartment complex's friendly front desk receptionist, and get on the elevator. We get off the elevator on the third floor and make our way towards my home. I watch Nate’s face as he walks first into my place.
The look of amazement and surprise on his face is hilarious.
I have no sentimental attachment to this place, but it is still truly beautiful.
The apartment is absolutely stunning. The moment you walk in, you’re hit with a feeling of intense luxury. Floor-to-ceiling windows flood the space with natural light, giving the sleek, modern furniture a soft glow. The best part, though, is the enormous two-person bathtub in the main bathroom.
“Your living room and kitchen are legit bigger than my entire place, and I still have a two-bedroom!” Nate yells.
I flirtatiously say, “More room for us to play.”
While Nate continues looking around, I jokingly say, “Did you finish the last Harry Potter yet?”
Nate smiles and lets out, “You’re an ass!”
It’s around 7 p.m., and I’m planning to make Nate a simple yet amazing chicken parm with penne vodka pasta.
I think it’ll be fun to cook together while getting to know each other more.
I tend to order out way more frequently than cooking at home, even after I go to the supermarket.
Cooking is just such a move, and ordering out gives me the ability to sit and do absolutely nothing.
Nate sits down, looking into my eyes, and says, “Now what? Want to watch the first Harry Potter now?”
I reply, “I thought we could make some dinner together first, which shouldn’t take too long. I picked an easy recipe.
I take out all the ingredients, and we both look at each other with a mixture of delight and delirium.
Neither of us could remember how to get the breadcrumbs to stick to the chicken correctly.
We mix the eggs and breadcrumbs, but both laugh at how thick the blend looks.
We both clearly have no idea what we did wrong.
I picked this recipe because I thought an infant could do it, but clearly, I was wrong. It took us about 10 minutes till Nate blurted out, “We are idiots, flour and water. We forgot flour and water.”
I dump out the mess of a concoction and start over with water and flour. “Voila, it worked, “I say.
When I put the chicken in the oven and pasta in the pot, I caught Nate mid-motion, opening the vodka and marinara sauce glass bottles.
He opens the marinara sauce bottle with such force that it drops to the floor, shattering it.
I start laughing as the sauce gets all over his clothes and face, while I remain spotless.
Nate says, “I am a mess; I cannot believe I just did that. Nothing comes easy with me.”
He seems so stressed, but I lighten the mood and say, “This is hilarious! Take off your clothes. I will get you one of mine.”
It’s like I snap out of some trance when I look towards Nate to tell him he can change in another room. Before I get any words out, he is already taking his shirt and pants off without a care in the world. I can’t help but sneak glances at his body.
He’s pretty pale, but damn, he’s fit. His legs, though, that’s what gets me going.
The muscles are so defined that every movement makes them flex and stand out.
His low-cut briefs give me a full view of those incredible legs.
But what really catches my attention is the way the cotton fabric clings to his bulge, outlining everything.
Even soft, he looks huge, and just like that, I start to feel my pants tighten.
I snap out of it when Nate finishes changing into my spare T-shirt and basketball shorts.
We end up dumping all the vodka sauce over the chicken and pasta, mainly because the marinara sauce is now split between the trash and the inside of my washing machine.
We sit down to eat around 7:45 and demolish everything in under ten minutes.
I can’t tell if we were actually starving or just ready to relax.
While I clean up, I hear Nate looking towards my Nintendo and beams out, “You did not tell me you have the original Super Smash Brothers! I love this game. We are playing this now.”
I finish cleaning up and look at Nate with a grin and say, “Let’s play, but you better not get mad when I kick your ass. I never lose with Yoshi, ever.”
We both lounge on my blue-grey plush couch, extremely close, legs touching. I turn on the Nintendo and look at him, saying, “You sure you want to do this?”
He smiles and points towards the Nintendo, clearly ready to go.
We play three rounds, and I kick Nate’s ass every time.
He plays with all the best fighters and still cannot beat me once, which isn’t surprising.
I feel bad constantly winning, so I throw the next few games.
When I see his face lighten up, I figure it was not such a bad decision.
While playing Super Smash, we keep giggling with each other as our characters continuously die in different ways.
We are sitting so close to each other that I feel his legs rub against mine.
His skin is so smooth against mine that it sends chills down my leg.
I can actually feel my leg hair standing up; I hope he doesn’t realize.
I want to keep playing, but we have been playing for so long, and I really want to watch a movie. I look at Nate, give him puppy dog eyes, and say, “Harry Potter time?”
Nate looks at me and says, “Fine, you’re lucky I am nice.”
We finish our last game and get ready to start the first Harry Potter. Quickly, I grab us a fluffy beige blank and pull it over our bodies while I turn off the lights. I look at Nate and whisper, “Ready?” I can’t help but feel so warm as Nate warms up right next to me and gives me a nod.
We are around thirty minutes into the movie when I see Nate staring at me.
I am not sure what he wants, but I continue to be glued to the movie.
Another ten minutes goes by, and Nate puts his hand on my leg, which leads to the chills running down my leg again.
I turn to him to ask him, “What’s up?” but before I get any words out, he plants his lips on mine.
His lips brush mine, slow at first, almost teasing, but it doesn’t stay gentle for long.
His hands slip behind my neck, pulling me in deeper, and I fall into it.
The kiss turns hot, desperate even, like we’ve both been holding back this entire night.
His body is pressed against mine, warm and firm.
I feel his breath on my mouth when I slide my hand under his shirt, fingers tracing the lines of his back.
We’re not saying anything, but everything we’ve wanted is pouring out.
We pull each other’s shirts off easily as we get out of our pants.
I look at him and grunt softly, “Can I?” as I motion toward his briefs.
The heat between us is undeniable. I want nothing more than to touch him, to feel all of him.
He meets my eyes and says, “Only touching tonight.” There’s something firm but tender in the way he says it, and I nod, fully understanding the boundary.
Slowly, I slip his briefs off and stare intently at his dick.
He’s already half hard, and just watching him respond to me sends a pulse of need through my entire body.
It’s such a beautiful dick. It must be at least 7 inches when fully hard.
I want to take him in my mouth, but hopefully next time.
I put my hands first on his balls and start rubbing them as he lets out consistent moans.
As I’m playing with his balls, I watch his dick grow hard as a rock.