These other fantastic authors are posting today too!
To celebrate the one year anniversary of Free Fiction Fridays (created by Vaughn Demont) I have a treat for you. On June 1st, the digital rights to Dinner and a Movie, my first published work, reverted to me. Soon I'll have a full creative commons license for them.
I'm making it available here first, and soon on my website, when I get off my ass and tell my partner what I want.
Here's the general rules regarding Dinner and a Movie.
1 ) Copy it! Paste it! PUT IT WHEREVER THE HELL YOU WANT!
2 ) Share it with anyone and anywhere that you want!
3 ) Don't alter it in any way.
4 ) Don't forget to give me credit for it.
5 ) DO NOT SELL IT. PERIOD. If you find someone selling this, please contact me.
6 ) If you like this, I have a few other stories available through Torquere, including a sequel to Dinner and a Movie in the Public Displays Taste Test.
Dinner and a Movie by Alex Marcus-Jacobs
The knock at my door sounded like a death knell, no matter how cheerful and rapid the rhythm of the knuckles that beat their tattoo on the particle-board entrance to my home. How I’d gotten myself into this, I still didn’t know, but I knew it had something to do with a friend at work pushing his visiting cousin, Sam, on me. How he’d managed to get me to actually agree to have a total stranger over to my place, completely alone, was quite beyond me at this point. All I knew was that I’d cooked a luxurious dinner of seafood fettuccine alfredo with a side Caesar salad for this girl, and I didn’t even know who she was. I’d at least had the presence of mind to actually ask Jake if she was allergic to seafood before I did that.
I made sure that the dinner table was set as nicely as I could get it and pulled the bottle of white wine out of the chiller. Looking around the apartment, which I had spent a good five hours cleaning in anticipation of this evening, I made a final check to make sure that the entire place was spotless, but still kept that lived-in look that would hopefully keep this ‘Sam’ from guessing I had spent five hours cleaning.
I muttered under my breath that ‘my friend owes me so much for this’ and continued on my way. I had gone all out for this cousin of his, and by God, I’d make him pay in spades if this night was a disaster. God only knew I should have asked him to pay me up front for the wine and the ingredients for the dinner. I undid the chain and pulled open the door, expecting… Well, I wasn't sure what I was expecting. But whatever it was, 'Sam' didn’t fit into any category of ‘girl’ I’d ever met. It just so happened that every one of Sam’s five-feet-eight inches was completely and utterly male.
“Well… fuck…” I said in an almost conversational tone, “you must be Sam. Excuse me. I have someone to kill.”
Then I closed the door firmly on his still-smiling, but vaguely confused, face. Yes, I’m sure you’re thinking how rude it was to leave my blind date on the doorstep, wondering if I'm some sort of lunatic, but consider my position. I just stared at the doorknob and peephole, completely dumbfounded, trying to register what was happening. The knock came again, this time a little insistent, and I took a deep breath, then opened the door again.
“C-come in, I g-guess…” I stammered. “It’s all right. Sorry. I’m not in the habit of doing that, really. Just, well… Either Jake has gotten the absolute wrong impression of me, or he’s playing a cruel joke on both of us. I was expecting a woman.”
Sam didn’t seem to be surprised at all by my statement, and sighed as he stepped in. He kept his jacket on, I suppose since he figured he’d be leaving soon. He chuckled a little ruefully and looked me up and down, then sighed again.
Flashing a winning smile, he commented, “I should have known Jake would do this. Thought maybe, just maybe, he’d stopped playing tricks on me, but I guess this pretty much proves otherwise, doesn’t it? I’m Sam, if you didn’t guess. Listen, if you paid out anything for
tonight, believe me, I’ll make sure that Jake pays for every cent.”
I took a few steps back into the room and shrugged a little. Looking at the carefully prepared repast, I shook my head. “No. That’s fine, Sam. Listen, I went through all the trouble of making enough for two people, and then some. Why don’t you come in? Might as well make the best of it. I’m Mark. So… umm… did you know I’d be a guy?”
Sam seemed to consider my words for a few moments, then grinned and took his jacket off. held out a hand for it, and on touching it, realized it was genuine leather. As I rummaged in the closet for a hanger for the obviously expensive piece of clothing, he responded. “Yeah, I did. He told me your name. Said you were just my type, whatever he thinks my type is. I take it you’re not gay, are you?”
I didn’t answer immediately. It’s not a question I’d ever been asked, or even considered. What if Jake wasn’t playing a joke and had genuinely thought I was into guys? What would give him that impression? Shaking my head to clear the cobwebs, I said, “Uh, that would be a negative. But I still know how to have a good time even if I’m not trying to woo the ladies.”
This brought another chuckle from Sam as he stepped into the dining room. He whistled softly, and said, “Boy, you did go all out, didn’t you? Is that seafood alfredo?” As he approached the table and picked up the bottle of wine that I’d just pulled out of the fridge, he let out another low whistle. “I am so sorry, Mark. I know just how much this stuff costs. Either you were looking to get some tonight, or you’re a hopeless romantic.”
I followed him in, finding myself grinning at the comment. “Hopeless romantic, I’d say. As much as I like a first date to end up in… well, things I’m sure you don’t want to hear about… I do like it just as much when things don’t, and I find I really like the girl.” I smirked and said, “Crack it open, Sam, don’t worry. Believe me, I can afford it, since I’ll be making Jake foot the bill. Corkscrew is in the drawer next to the sink on the right.” I added this as an afterthought, seeing that Sam was already looking about helplessly.
Popping the cork, he grinned and poured equal amounts into the two wineglasses I’d set on the table. “So, should I pull out your chair, or mine, or whatnot?” he asked, and I just stared at him, really not sure how to answer. “Oh, I’m kidding, silly. I’ll just have a seat, okay?” Pulling back a chair, he sat down and waited for me. It was then I got a chance to look at him in more detail.
He was attractive. At least, I figured men and women would find him attractive. Dark brown hair, pulled back in a ponytail that reached halfway down his back; a small, neatly trimmed goatee around a mouth that seemed used to smiling quite often; deep green eyes that looked real enough you could tell they weren’t contacts; and a nicely formed chin that looked neither too big nor too small. He was dressed in a simple, green casual button-down shirt, the kind you wear at work, or out on an informal date, and black jeans. His shoes reiterated the casual-not-casual feel of his attire.
He noticed the scrutiny and said softly, “Now normally I’d say you were checking me out, but
well, I somehow think that’s not possible. You yourself, you look good enough that I’m quite sorry you wouldn’t be interested in… well, things I’m sure you wouldn’t want to hear about.”
Curiously, I felt myself blushing, and it wasn’t just for the compliment. I had been checking him out, and for the life of me, couldn’t figure out why. Maybe it was just because it’s not like he’d have taken offense at it. Regardless, I sat down, taking a rather quick and probably desperate-seeming sip of the wine.
Sam seemed to sense the effect his statement had on me and chose to back off the subject. “You know, Jake tends to keep an element of truth in what he says. He said we’d have a lot in common, so I’m wondering if that’s correct.” He took a forkful of greens and then stopped for a moment, savouring the taste. Despite my reservations, I found myself hoping he’d like it, as I was quite proud of my cooking prowess. He looked at me after swallowing and said, “This is really good. It’s… fresh. This isn’t salad in a bag, is it? You made it yourself?”
I nodded enthusiastically and grabbed a few forkfuls myself. “I did. Food tastes a lot better when you make it yourself, and have someone to enjoy it with. I even made the salad dressing and ground the parmesan. All fresh ingredients. Same with the main course. I love to cook. One of my hobbies.”
He raised an eyebrow and murmured, “Well, that answers both questions. I’m actually a cook at The Hyacinth downtown. Uhh… actually, the head cook. Made my hobby my career. So when I say this salad is good, you know it comes from a good source. Now, for the alfredo…”
The dinner went a lot less awkwardly than I’d expected, especially considering that the night was just a whole practical joke from our mutual friend and family member, Jake. Sam and I discussed just about everything from movies to books, and video games to sports, and by the time the last bite of both our meals had been swallowed, we both realized that, yes, we did have a lot in common.
Sam sat back, sighing a little, and took a final sip of wine. Recorking the bottle with the other side of the corkscrew, he sighed softly. “You know… I really find myself wishing the dinner wouldn’t end. You probably got a romantic movie and all that.” He leaned forward and laid his hand on mine. “I’ve had a great night. I’m sure that you would have gotten whatever you were looking for. Listen, having a friend around here would still be great, especially someone I actually enjoy being around.”
I blushed hotly, and he knew it. I couldn’t help it, and for some reason I found his demeanor incredibly disarming. My mind kept moving to thoughts of what could have happened if he’d gotten what he expected. Strangely, I felt myself actually wanting him to stay. “Umm… Sam? Do you want to stay anyway? I mean… not for… I figure, I’ve got a lot of movies here. I picked up Avarice just a little while ago and I’ve not watched it yet.”
He gave me a blank look then broke into a grin. “That’s the one with the serial killer that goes after folks who destroyed other lives for their profit, right? Damn! I missed that one in theatres. Yeah, that sounds good. I’m not really up for the romantic type right now, and that sounds wonderful!” I returned the grin and led him into my living room.
My living room was two times bigger than my kitchen and contained both a new widescreen television, given to me as a housewarming gift from a year ago, and my computer, my personal pride and joy that I’d put together myself at a cost I still couldn’t believe I’d been able to pay. The computer was hooked up to the TV as a second monitor, and I slipped the DVD into the drive as Sam set himself down on my extra-wide couch, which had occasionally served as a bed for me when I didn’t want to sleep in my room.
“You drink beer?” I asked, cueing up the DVD first before heading for the kitchen.
“Yeah, I do, but maybe if you have some sort of cooler that would be nicer. Not feeling like beer tonight. Not the right kind of night, if you know what I mean.”
I grinned, and rummaged around in the fridge, grabbing a bottle of hard lemonade from the back where it had been sitting since a party I’d had a few weeks ago. I grabbed one of my own beers, an independent brew called World’s End, and carried them both back. I’d taken just enough time in the kitchen for the opening credits to the movie to start, and so, after handing him his lemonade, I sat down on the opposite end of the couch, leaned back, and propped my legs up on the coffee table.
The movie was suitably bloody and violent, with the usual prerequisite plot twists and horrific deaths. I think we both took a certain pleasure in the deaths of such despicable people as an unscrupulous lawyer and a cut-throat CEO. The main character was a cop, of course, trying to follow the trail of clues to the killer. Big plot twist at the end had him finding out the killer was his old partner, whom he had betrayed to get a better, more cushy position in the police force. As with a lot of those kinds of movies, Avarice, of course, had the hero dead at the end, his secret out to the world and the killer going free, to get ready for next year’s sequel, Avarice II. It was altogether formulaic, but damn fun, and I could tell that Sam enjoyed it just as much as I.
When the movie was over, I got up to stop the movie and a hand flicked out to slap my butt lightly as I passed by. Instantly, this was followed by a hasty apology. “Sorry, Mark… just… was so tempting. I forgot myself there for a moment.” I said nothing, confused by how that slap had made me feel, and just focused on the computer for much longer than I suppose I should have. I heard him getting up. “You know what, on that, I guess I’ll go. I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t have.”
“No!” I said suddenly, my mind filling with thoughts that I never thought I’d be having. I’d liked that slap, and as much as I tried to deny it, my mind was racing for reasons to make him stay, reasons to keep him there. “Can you… can you sit down for a while? Maybe talk?” I asked, my voice a little strained but, I hoped, not sounding too desperate. Confused, Sam returned to the couch, sat down, and watched me, brow furrowed in an expression of perplexity.
I stepped around the couch and turned on the lamp at the far end, the room having grown dark over the course of the movie, day turning into night. I sat down closer to him and looked at him long and hard. “So, umm… I was thinking. There’ve been a few things going through my head
I can’t seem to dispel, and uhh… Can I ask you something?”
He nodded, still a little confused. “Go ahead, shoot.” He leaned back a bit and finished up his lemonade, then set the bottle down on the coffee table next to my empty beer bottle. “Something wrong? I mean, if it was my hand, I really didn’t mean to.” He adopted a properly conciliatory expression, and I shook my head, looking at my hands, not wanting to meet his gaze.
“You know, I’ve always been a little curious, I guess…” I began, then stopped, not sure how to continue. I knew I had to say it, though, or I’d always wonder, and I doubted I’d get a chance like this for a very long time. “Well, I’ve never thought about men in a sexual way. I mean, not at all. And all night, I’ve just been thinking about… that. And it doesn’t scare me. I mean, it doesn’t disgu… no, that’s not the word. It doesn’t turn me off.”
Sam leaned forward, closer to me, suddenly very curious. If he’d been an animal, his ears would have been perked forward in intense interest, wanting to know what was coming. I couldn’t seem to say anything, though, not for a few moments, and he murmured quietly, “Go on, Mark.” I blinked and nodded, finally finding my words again.
“I’ve never thought of that because I was always afraid of offending someone, I guess. Maybe consciously, maybe not, but with the people I used to hang around with, with my family the way it is, I always pushed those kinds of thoughts to the back of my head. But well, we’re alone, and I guess somewhere inside, I know you wouldn’t be offended by it. And the more I think about it, the more I wonder if I’d like to… well, maybe… Tell me, if I were into men, would you have wanted to after a night like this?” I asked, cringing a little, hoping I wasn’t weirding him out at all, but also hoping he got the gist of what I was talking about.
He laid one of his hands on mine and reached out to lift my chin with a single finger, looking into my eyes. “You’ve been charming, wonderful, and friendly. You talk so easily, and you’re a genuinely likable guy. You’re an amazing cook, and you’d actually go all-out for someone you’ve never met before tonight. If you want me to be completely honest, then yes, I would have been happy to spend a night in your bed. But I’m not asking for that at all, Mark, and I don’t want you to feel guilty that you couldn’t do what I’d very much like to.”
The next words that came out of my mouth surprised even me, that I could actually say it before letting him go. “What if I told you I want you to stay, just for that reason? That I want to know what it’s like, because right now, I can ask for it and not have to worry if it’s something that doesn’t go right.” My voice quavered slightly and I had to stop for a second. “I want to know what it’s like to be with a man. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to… I’ll enjoy it. I really don’t know, but there’s something in me telling me that if I don’t, I’m always going to wonder.” My heart pounded in my chest, whether from fear or excitement, I couldn’t tell.
Sam looked at me, seeming both shocked and relieved at the same time, and he pulled his hand away. He studied me for a short while, a good many expressions crossing his face as he did so, from interest to disbelief and from want to an odd brand of fear. Slowly, his expression changed to one of cautious hope and concern.
“Mark… you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he said, though it was obvious he wanted to take me up on my offer. He was breathing heavily, his gaze traveling all over every inch of my frame in a way that I had always thought would make me uncomfortable, but instead, made my heart race even faster. “I don’t want to hurt you. This night’s been wonderful, best blind date I’ve been on, even if it was with a straight guy.”
I reached out and touched his cheek, hand trembling, still nervous, but wanting to give in to the kinds of thoughts I’d always pushed back for the sake of ‘normality’. “Sam. Please. I want to try this. I have to know if what I’m feeling is just curiosity… or if it’s what I am.”
I took a deep breath and leaned in, locking my lips to his, flicking my tongue against his lips, pushing it against them, seeking admission. He reciprocated, and our tongues danced against each other. I could feel him trembling, maybe even more than me, as my hand moved from his cheek to the back of his neck. When I finally broke away, I looked into his eyes and saw the need deep in them.
“Well, that felt right. Go slow, Sam, but please, I want you make love to me.”
He nodded, eyes wide, and then pushed me back against the couch, slipping to the floor in front of it. “As you wish. I hope this isn’t a mistake…” he murmured as he fumbled at the button of my slacks and gently pulled down the fly.
I felt my cock stirring, swelling and stiffening in my boxer-briefs. Freed from the confines of my pants, more blood rushed to my groin and shaft. Sam looked up at me and asked in a soft, husky voice, “You sure about this, Mark?”
When my silent nod finally came, he leaned his head down and began to kiss the outside of my boxer-briefs, drawing in deep breaths of my musky scent. Soon enough, my shaft was straining against the stretchy white fabric of my underwear, a couple droplets of precome already dampening it.
Pulling back the fabric, he said, “Lift that cute butt up for a second.”
It took me a few seconds to register the request, but when I finally rose up, Sam deftly pulled both my pants and my underwear down and off, leaving me wearing only my shirt. As if to say I was still overdressed, he waggled a finger at me, making me actually giggle as he straddled my waist and began to unbutton my shirt.
“You know, the moment I saw you, I was hoping I’d get a chance to do this…” he commented, “but I promise, as soon as I realized the mistake, I was just willing to get to know a new friend.” He leaned down and kissed me, pulling my shirt open and playing with my left nipple as he continued to undress me.
“Sam…” I almost whimpered, still nervous, but knowing deep inside that, yes, I wanted this, right now, right here.
He stopped and looked at me, concerned, and then read that look in my eyes, and smiled affectionately. He laid a finger on my lips and shh’ed, then slipped his own shirt off, baring his chest. He was built well and had his nipples pierced with silver barbells, which I impulsively reached out and tweaked.
This elicited a laugh from him, and then he was undoing his pants. My breath caught as he pulled first his slacks, and then his boxers, off, stepping out of them, and standing there for me to examine, as if to give me a chance to stop this one more time. I’d already gone this far, though, and I was going to see it through to the end. I nodded appreciatively at him.
“You look wonderful, Sam. You really do,” I whispered, examining every inch of him.
He wasn’t incredibly hairy--in fact, quite the opposite. Aside from just a bit of fuzz on his chest and the trail of hair from his belly to his groin, his torso was hairless. My gaze finally came to rest on his cock, and I let out a soft moan. He was big, not massive, but certainly more than average, his already-stiff shaft almost eight inches long.
He grinned, knowing the kinds of thoughts that were going through my head.
He knelt on the floor in front of the couch again and said, “I’ll go gentle, don’t worry. You tell me, okay?”
I nodded dumbly, and then felt his hand stroking my member with a skill that could only come from one who knew what felt good to another man. I closed my eyes and laid my head back, gripping the top of the couch with both my hands to steady my shaking. As such, I didn’t see that he’d leaned down, making me cry out in surprise when his tongue swirled around the crown of my shaft. His mouth soon followed, enveloping it in that hot wetness all the way to his throat, slowly bobbing his head up and down as his free hand cupped my sack.
I continued to whimper, squirming as he continued to suck me, lost in pleasure and sensation for a while. My grip on the top of the couch tightened as I felt him deep-throat it, and hold it there for a few seconds before pulling all the way off, flicking at the little slit in the end of my cock with the tip of his tongue. His words pulled me back to reality.
“Mark, where are they? Please tell me you have lube, too.”
Only half-coherent, I responded, “Over, bedroom. Nightstand… drawer… yup, lots… for hand…”
Curiously enough, this declaration made me a little embarrassed that I’d let slip what I frequently used the lube for, but only for a few moments as I realized I should be quite beyond embarrassment by this point. After all, I was naked with my cock standing stiffly at attention for a man I’d just met, when only hours ago, I would have laughed if you’d told me this is how my night would turn out.
Sam left and returned, leaning down to give me a kiss, and said softly, “Thank you. If things go well with us, maybe we can do away with them, but for now...” He resumed his position on the rug in front of me, and gently began to stroke my shaft again. “You tell me when to stop, hun, you understand?” he almost commanded.
I nodded, not sure what he was going to do that might make me want him to stop. Then I felt a finger pressing its way between my buttocks, resting at my anus for a moment. My breath quickened and my grip once again tightened on the couch, but the sound I made surprised even me with how needful it was. Sam pushed that finger, slick with lube, up into me, and I groaned, lifting my legs a little. It didn’t hurt at all as I’d worried. In fact, it felt… wonderful… as he began to thrust his finger in and out.
“Feel good?” he asked, looking for feedback from me, and I nodded enthusiastically.
“Please… do it… do me… right here...” I whimpered, and he nodded slowly, but kept fucking me with his finger. I felt his finger curl, and then just lost all coherence as he began making a stroking motion with his finger. “Oh fuck, what is that? Sam…” I gasped, and I knew he could hear the need in my voice, almost palpable in the air. He finally withdrew his finger and wiped it on a towel he’d grabbed when he was in my bedroom.
“I was going to take you to the bedroom, give you an easy position. You sure? Right here?” he asked, still gently concerned for my comfort. I wondered how he could be so calm right now, how he could keep himself from just mounting me and letting go. But then, as I looked at him, standing in front of me, his cock standing proudly out, the tip flushed deep red, I took note of the sheen of sweat that covered his body, the trembling… and his eyes. He was holding back, genuinely wanting to make this special and very comfortable for me.
Nodding, I murmured softly, “I want to see your face, Sam. I want to know it’s you. I want to see you.” He smiled warmly and then did something out of my sight. I heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper, and just the softest sound of the latex rolling onto Sam’s cock, and then he turned around. “Don’t stop at all, Sam. I know it’s going to hurt a bit.”
Nodding, he patted my legs lightly. “Can you lift these up a bit? Hold them with your arms if you have to.”
I complied, my whole body shaking with mingled nervousness and anticipation, lifting my legs up and spreading them a bit so my ass cheeks would spread slightly, enough to give him easier access. I think I surprised him with my flexibility, able to hold my legs up almost to my chest. I don’t know what I expected next, but the feeling of the slightly cold lube being spread around the tightness of my ass was not it. It seemed like he was using the whole bottle, and he slipped a finger into me again a few times, leaning over me, locking his eyes to mine.
“You ready, Mark? Really ready?”
I couldn’t do anything more than nod, biting my lip, gripping my own legs so hard that they
could bruise. He hunched forward slightly and I felt the tip of his cock pressing against me, pushing insistently at my anus. It was forceful, but not quick, and I felt every single millimeter of that penetration as my very-much-virginal ass was stretched around his thick shaft. I gasped as the first spasm of pain hit as he was only an inch in, and he stopped, seeing the pain in my eyes. Panting loudly, I waited for it to be over, and then nodded for him to continue.
That’s how it continued, inch after inch, push then stop, until, after what felt like forever (probably even longer to him than to me), I could feel the smooth, tight flesh of his sack up against my rump, and I knew he was all the way in.
“Sam…” I whispered, and he grinned, beginning to pull out, then pushing back in, just the tiniest bit faster this time, and smoothly, without any hesitation. “Oh Sam, it feels… I… ohhh god…”
I groaned as he pulled out and pushed back in a third, then fourth time, each time moving a little faster. In short order, he was rocking his hips back and forth in a smooth rhythm, his balls lightly slapping against my cheeks over and over, making my eyes glaze. Each slapping sensation elicited a pleased gasp from me, and he lifted one hand up and placed it against the back of the couch so he could steady himself. He mouthed to me, ‘faster?’ and I nodded enthusiastically.
Picking up the pace, he continued to fuck me, somehow keeping a faster pace but still remaining gentle in his thrusting. And then his right hand was reaching in between my legs and stroking the tip of my cock with a lube-slicked grip. I couldn’t help it, I cried out, throwing my head back again and letting out such an animal sound of need that he took it as a request to let loose. The first of many, uncountable jarring thrusts filled me, each one eliciting yet another loud cry of pleasure and surprise from me. His cock continued to pound into me over and over, even as he stroked my shaft with his free hand.
“Look at me,” he commanded huskily, and I responded, but only after a few seconds to register the command.
Our eyes met, and in that instant, I felt the rise of my climax approaching, filling me with the need to release. It was an amazing, wonderful feeling, to have a lover inside me, and being so close to climaxing that I felt poised as if on a razor’s edge.
“Ah, Sam, I’m close, Sam, just do it hard,” I moaned, and then nearly screamed as it hit me, and I felt the first jet of my hot seed spattering on my belly and chest. It seemed to me like there was more than I’d ever let loose before, and as my ass clamped down on his shaft, I saw that single act had pushed him close. It hurt, clenching down on him, but all I wanted was for him to finish, for him to have his own release.
It took all of another dozen thrusts, hard, rough, and almost violent, balls making loud slapping sounds against me, and his eyes widened and glazed slightly as he gasped out my name. “Mark! I’m… I’m…” And then he was near incoherent, pushing himself into me as deeply as he could, letting loose his seed. I could actually feel his shaft twitching in me, so strong were the motions that jetted his semen. He collapsed against me and locked our lips together, this time taking the initiative to dance his tongue against mine.
When he was finally finished, we lay there, kissing, his body over mine, his cock still inside me as it slowly softened, for a good ten minutes. Then he pulled out, rolling to the couch beside me. He watched me as I let my legs down with a soft whimper. I’d pushed them back so much, it was like a stretching workout, and they were already a little sore.
“So, how was it?” he asked, reaching out to stroke my cheek affectionately.
I rolled onto my side as best as I could and wriggled close to him, grabbing the towel to wipe my torso off. I couldn’t yet put into words what I was thinking and feeling at the time, and I just grinned dopily as I kissed his chest, then his neck, and finally his mouth. I was already sore in places I’d never thought I would be, but I just hoped that my actions, the expression on my face, would be enough to tell him that I had loved every minute of it, even the parts that hurt a little.
Sam seemed to understand and just wrapped his arms around me almost protectively. “I’m happy I came tonight. I’m happy I stayed. I wouldn’t have asked you, you know, but I’m so very happy you asked me.” Grabbing a blanket from underneath the coffee table, he laid it out over us and guided us both so we were half-laying down. “Do you want to do it again?” he asked.
I finally found the words enough to speak. “Sam? Do you want to stay the whole night? Maybe… again? It felt just right,” I said quietly, basking in the afterglow of my first time with another man. “This date… this blind date has ended up better than any I’ve ever had, I think, and I don’t want it to end.” I cuddled up closer to him and nibbled at his side, making him laugh. “Oh! You’re ticklish. Well, I’ll have to remember that, won’t I?”
After I nibbled and tickled him for a while, I stopped and snuggled up again. Suddenly, he looked down at me, serious for a moment. “Does that mean that you want this to continue? You want to see me after tonight? Because if you do, I won’t want to hide it. I live my life openly, and I’m not going back into the closet for anyone. Have you really decided to go out there and say you’re actually gay?” He was suddenly a little stiff against me, a little rigid, as if he was worried that I’d not want to take that step.
I sighed softly and said hesitantly, “I’m… not gay, Sam. Wait! Don’t worry!” He’d already started to squirm and get up, but I held him down. “I’m not straight either. I want to go on more dates, I want to be with you more, but it’s going to take me some time to get used to it. But yes, I want to be able to say that a blind date actually started something very special for me.”
He appeared to consider it for a moment, then kissed my forehead lightly. “All right. I’ll let you set the pace. We can hang around some of my favorite places first, meet my friends. Get you among people you don’t have to worry about.” Sighing softly, he relaxed and re-wrapped his arms around me, laying back, and lifting his hand up to switch off the lamp next to the couch, blanketing us in darkness. “Let’s just stay here for a while, hmm? We’ll do it again later, I promise. Just rest for a little while.”
I nodded and closed my eyes, continuing to enjoy the afterglow, and pulled the blanket up over
my shoulders. “I think I’ll have to thank Jake tomorrow, if only to see the look on his face. don’t think he meant for this to happen. Maybe that’ll tell him to stop his pranks,” I murmured breathlessly before drifting off into a soft doze, wrapped in the arms of my new lover, a whole new kind of life ahead of me.