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John pressed the buzzer and gave the obligatory “It’s me,” as he had perhaps a half dozen times or so at this point, the precursor to Liam appearing in the lobby of the apartment building a minute later, ready to be whisked off on a date, or more likely, just taken to John’s house for a thorough fucking or three.
Sunday evenings had proven to be a convenient time for such meetings. Neither of them with much to do, but with work the next day, there was an understanding that it would just be what it was, a quick fuck, maybe a shared dinner, nothing more. I can’t imagine the routine is all that thrilling for the kid at this point, John thought, although he’s never complained. He had actually briefly considered not bothering; his hangover had long since cleared up, but he could still feel the dark cloud of what had happened with Riley in the back of his mind, even when he’d managed to get his inner monologue focused on anything else. In the end he’d concluded that a casual fuck with Liam might at least stave off that dark cloud for a while. Maybe not fair to the kid, but, again, he doesn’t seem to mind.
“Come on in,” Liam answered. There was a buzz and the door unlocked.
Huh, that’s different, John thought Maybe his roommate’s not in today. He shrugged it off and pulled the door open, stepping inside. He’d never actually been inside the place, just always picked Liam up, so he realized he would just have to stand there like an idiot until Liam got down the stairs. He’d never even met this roommate, but from Liam’s occasional descriptions, it didn’t sound like he’d missed anything there.
Fortunately, Liam had also realized this and appeared a few moments later in his usual attire of a t-shirt and gym shorts. When he got to the lobby, he threw his arms around John, kissed him right on the mouth and said, “Hi, daddy!”
Some things never change, anyway. As Liam released him he asked, “Did you not want to go out?”
“Oh, I do,” Liam said, “just can we go upstairs for a minute first?”
“Sure,” John said. Maybe he’s not ready to go yet. Not like we’re going anywhere fancy, though… He followed Liam up a few flights of stairs and into a nondescript, if cramped apartment. No sign of the roommate, anyway. The apartment was mostly bare, a cheap-looking futon against one wall of the center room, a tv that looked like it had been salvaged from some secondhand shop. The kitchen, which was open to the main room, was surprisingly clean, although it seemed that they were keeping dinnerware in boxes instead of the cabinets for some reason John did not fathom. “Did you need to finish getting ready or something? You’ll be surprised to learn that I had not planned on taking you anywhere but to bed tonight.”
“Not surprised at all,” Liam answered. “I actually just wanted to talk to you first. Let’s sit down.”
“Oh no,” John said facetiously. “Is this the part where you tell me you have a secret husband?”
“Uh, no,” Liam said, “If I had a husband you wouldn’t have had to wait so long for that threesome.” He led them to the futon and they sat. “Actually, I wanted to tell you something good. At least, good in a way.”
“I see,” said John, though he decidedly did not.
“So, you know how I told you I was looking for something better?”
“You mean work? Yeah, I remember something about that. Wanting to be your own daddy, as I recall.”
“Something like that,” Liam continued. “So, anyway, I found something! I got a job! Like, a real job and not just temping. I mean, It’s only an assistant job, but still, it’s something.”
“Ah, I see,” sighed John, “and so now comes the part where you tell me you’re going to be too busy for casual sex?”
“Uh, no, that’s not a thing,” Liam smiled. “The thing is, though, is that the job is kind of… in New York? So I kind of have to move.”
John could tell by the way Liam’s expression changed that his own attempts at hiding his disappointment were not working.
“I already found a place there,” Liam continued, “probably with another asshole roommate, but a place, anyway.”
“Ah, ok,” John said. He took a breath.
You had to know something like this would happen eventually, the little voice in his head said.
“That’s great news, Liam. I’m really happy for you.” John was surprised to find upon saying it that this was at least partially true.
“Sorry it’s so sudden. And sorry just, you know. I mean, obviously casual sex doesn’t really work long distance.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” It somehow felt worse that John couldn’t detect a hint of duplicity in Liam’s tone.
“That’s why I wanted to talk first. I thought maybe you wouldn’t want to, you know, once you knew.”
John took a second to respond. “Alright, first, I never don’t want to fuck you,” John said. “And anyway, we should celebrate. Where do you want to go? Sky’s the limit tonight.”
“Really? I was just hoping to suck your dick, honestly,” Liam said.
“Yeah, let’s have a mecidiyeköy escort good time, which will of course include you sucking my dick. But, you know, we can do something else, too,” John said.
“Like you fucking my ass?” Liam asked.
John chuckled. “Why not? It’s a celebration after all.”
Liam smiled. “Ok,” he said, “before you buy me a fancy dinner and take me home, there is one thing I want to do.”
“What’s that?”
“I want you to fuck my ass right here on this futon.”
“And your roommate…?” John began, looking around the room, as if this absent roommate would somehow magically appear.
“Would be pissed. But he’s an asshole and I’m leaving so fuck that guy. I want you to fuck me. Really fucking hard, right here. Ideally with so much cum that it leaks out of me and gets all over that dickhead’s furniture.”
“That,” John said, “can be arranged.” He pulled Liam over to him and kissed him hard on the mouth, then pushed him away and said, “Get naked.”
Liam pulled his shirt off and tossed it aside while John undid the fly of his jeans and pulled them down past his knees. Liam dropped to his knees on the floor in front of John and began sucking his cock, taking it all in at once, holding it between his soft lips, and gently pulling it until it had hardened in his mouth. He easily wiggled out of his shorts, shoes and socks while sucking, exposing his beautiful, lithe body to John’s eyes. John stripped off his shirt as well and tossed it aside, kicking off his shoes as he did so.
“Fuck you’re such a good little cocksucker,” John panted. Liam made eye contact and held it as he worked his tongue up and down, up and down, up and down John’s shaft. When he next reached John’s balls, he began licking at them gently, giving them a generous coating of saliva. John pushed Liam’s head gently away and finished the job of getting naked so that his legs were totally free. He readjusted himself, sliding himself further down into the futon so that his ass was exposed on the edge of it. “Now lick my fucking asshole,” he commanded.
“Ooh, yes, daddy,” Liam said, then immediately set about coating John’s tight hole with spit. His tongue moved in rapid circles around John’s asshole before penetrating it. He dipped in and out of John’s ass, sending a tingling sensation up John’s spine each time his hot, wet tongue pushed inside. His hand continued to stroke John’s shaft while he tongue fucked John’s ass.
As if sensing exactly what John wanted before even he himself had, Liam moved back up, kissing John’s ballsack gently before returning his mouth to John’s cock, taking the head between his lips. He alternated between lowering his mouth down to the base of John’s cock, somehow managing not to gag at all and stroking John with one hand while teasing John’s cock head with his tongue, all the while keeping his eyes locked onto John’s.
“Holy fuck,” John sighed. Liam smiled in response, then took his mouth off of John just long enough to spit into his hand before returning to his suck-jerk-lick cycle. Liam reached the hand that he had just spit into behind himself and John could guess at what he was doing: preparing his tight asshole for what was coming next.
Liam’s lips smacked loudly as he popped them off John’s cock. “There we go,” he said, pleased with his work. John’s cock throbbed, completely covered in spit, in Liam’s hand. “Let’s get this celebration started.”
He released his grip on John’s cock and climbed onto the futon beside him, taking up a position on all fours, his hands on one armrest and John got up behind him. Shlick, shlick, John’s cock head made a wonderful slimy sound as he ran it up and down Liam’s ass crack, smearing the spit Liam had lubed himself with. John let a glob of spit fall from his own mouth to join Liam’s. It landed near the top of the crack and oozed down before merging with the rather impressive amount that Liam had applied himself.
John paused his cock directly on Liam’s asshole; he felt Liam tense momentarily in anticipation, his one hand resting gently on the boy’s back, the other taking a position on his hip in preparation for thrusting. He pushed, and Liam’s asshole, after momentarily resisting, quickly allowed John inside. He sank inside, slowly but steadily, the tight little asshole gradually opening for him.
“Ooh, fuck yes…” Liam cooed as John’s dick disappeared up his ass. John let his hand slip around Liam’s body as he started slowly moving back out of Liam’s hole and found there Liam’s cock, pleasantly warm and turgid. He gripped it and began stroking it as he pushed his own cock back into Liam’s hole. He was soon working both cocks at once, his own via Liam’s wonderfully tight asshole, and Liam’s in his hand, timing the strokes together. Liam grunted and moaned in time, as well, seemingly content to let his body be used for John’s pleasure.
“Oh, yes, fuck me, daddy,” Liam beşiktaş escort groaned. As Liam spoke, he gripped the armrest of the futon and pushed back hard against John. “Harder…” he moaned, “fuck my little faggot ass harder, daddy…”
John increased his pace, his dick pumping in and out of Liam’s ass in a mesmerizing show. John could not take his eyes off of it, the way the hole sucked him. It took Liam actively pushing him away with one hand to snap John out of the near trance he had fallen into. From there, John watched silently as Liam turned in place, grabbed John’s cock, and began slurping on it, sending his tongue twirling around the head repeatedly before rearing back and spitting directly onto it, a big glob that spread out and dripped down onto Liam’s fingers and from there to the futon.
“Shit,” John said, “so fucking hot.”
Liam slurped up the spit and then used his tongue to reapply it, lifting John’s cock with one hand and painting the underside of it with the pool of spit he had accumulated. When he had finished this, his tongue having wiggled its way up to the tip of John’s dick, he retracted his tongue into his mouth and gave John a big smile before lying back on the futon. He pulled his ankles up over his head, exposing his now gaping asshole. “Fuck me, daddy,” he said.
“That nickname is one thing I’m not going to miss,” John replied.
“Liar,” smiled Liam. “Now shut up and fuck my faggot ass, will you?”
John took his cock in one hand, and with the other on the back of Liam’s leg to provide leverage, quickly reinserted himself into Liam’s waiting ass. His cock, freshly lubed with Liam’s spit, slid in easily, making a wonderfully obscene noise as it did so. He sank in up to his balls and immediately took up where they had left off before the re-lubrication: his body slammed over and over again into Liam’s and the boy, letting John handle keeping one leg aloft for him, took his own throbbing cock in hand and jerked it furiously.
“Ooh, fuck me…fuck me…” Liam quickly slipped into his own private world of pleasure as John’s cock slipped in and out of his ass, its whole length disappearing inside him and reappearing a moment later over and over again. His eyes closed and his hand went wild on his cock. John watched, entranced as the waves of pleasure that accompanied each thrust grew. He didn’t realize how long he had been pumping in and out of Liam’s tight asshole, until Liam’s increasingly indistinct moans suddenly stopped. “Oh fuck,” he grunted. “I’m gonna fucking cum…” His hand, till then working up and down his shaft roughly in time with John’s thrust, sped to nearly a blur.
John pushed himself deep inside, his balls pressed up against Liam’s flesh, and watched as Liam, groaning while his face strained, released a huge load of cum; it exploded from his cock, flying up and splattering onto his chest. Before it had even started dripping off of him, another shot went flying, then another, leaving a strangely beautiful mess, like a spider’s web of cum, across the boy’s shapely chest.
“Shit,” John grunted; his own orgasm had crept up on him, focused as he was on watching Liam’s, but once it had started, there was no way to stop or even delay it. He felt a flood of hot cum force its way from his balls and up the length of his cock. It poured out of him, flooding Liam’s asshole.
“Nnngghh…” Liam reacted with pleasure, a smile spreading across his face as John’s balls continued to empty into his bowels. The cum kept pouring out of John’s cock, the flow only gradually slowing; even after John had fallen back onto the couch, fighting for consciousness, it continued to trickle out of him. He grabbed for his cock momentarily, then remembered Liam’s request and let his hand fall away.
His eyes only half open, he turned his head back to Liam to see, to his amusement, that the little stream of cum oozing from his cock head stretched across the surface of the futon to Liam’s asshole; the boy had let his legs flop back down to the futon and was seemingly half asleep, his cum-covered chest rising and falling slowly.
“Well,” John said, only now realizing he was catching his breath, “I hope that’ll be enough for your roommate.”
Liam chuckled and without looking back at John said, “Mission accomplished.”
“So, uh…celebratory dinner?” asked John.
Liam propped himself and looked at John with a smile. “Yeah, that sounds nice,” he said.
…
To say Tuesday had been slow would have been like saying being waterboarded had been unpleasant. Monday had been bad enough, but that was a Monday, and a Monday after a particularly bad weekend, so that was to be expected. But Tuesday had surprised John with how much it felt like he was barely moving. It probably hadn’t helped that he’d checked his phone dozens of times in the morning alone, knowing full well how pointless it was to hope for a text from Riley but etiler escort still unable not to check compulsively. Hope springs eternal, he thought as he sat on his couch, followed quickly by I have no idea where that quote even comes from and then, in a fit of humor hope springs eternal in the human cock.
So when the clock had struck quitting time on that Tuesday, it was like waking from a dream. Not in the sense that reality had hit and all one’s previous concerns had instantly become laughably nonsensical, but in the sense that time itself had seemed to change and every minute of the last eight hours or so became perplexingly foreign. So what had he been so anxious to get home and do? Drink the beer that was currently dripping condensation on his hand? Watch something on the tv which sat, dark and lifeless, a few feet away? Evidently, if he was to judge his ambitions based on what he had actually accomplished since arriving home, it was mostly to stare, mind as close to blank as one could get it when not meditating or dead, at the box of crap that Carrie had still not taken home.
He briefly considered that she might be leaving it there intentionally. She had, after all, not once, but twice come to retrieve it, and both times not only failed to do so, but also had sex with John on each occasion. There was the distinct possibility that this was her method of excusing a hook up that she did not wish to admit to wanting. On the other hand, she had been quite insistent that it would not persist and that it was a fluke, a temporary, easy hookup, a “one-time thing” to use her words. But on the other other hand, he had long ago decided not to take Carrie at her word. It was not that she was a liar so much as that she was excellent at deceiving herself. Aren’t we all, though? he had to concede. We all tell ourselves little lies, construct our own little identities to make sense of the world.
Like Riley, he supposed. Somewhere across the city, she was no doubt assuring herself that this was the last time, that she would not cheat on her boyfriend again, while deep down she new this to be an untruth. He sighed. Or like how she was just a casual hookup, right? The thought was intrusive and so he was happy for it to be interrupted by a ring from the doorbell.
His mind immediately went to Riley, but brushing that thought aside as an impossibility, he next imagined Liam, but no, the boy had no car and was not going to be walking across the city for some dick, even if he wasn’t surely doing some last minute packing. So, when he did finally answer the door, any person would have come as a genuine surprise, but even more so was who actually appeared before him, Linda.
Carrie’s best friend had, to the best of John’s recollection, anyway, never graced his home with her presence before. A girl’s friends and her boyfriends were, in his experience, something like white blood cells and potential allergens. Or perhaps the secret service and foreign dignitaries were a better analogy. One group eyeing the outsider warily at all times, while recognizing the necessity of allowing someone in. They all wanted their friend to have a nice boyfriend, but no boyfriend was ever nice enough. Or maybe that’s just me, he thought.
“Hi, Linda,” he said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Cut the shit,” she said. “I’m here to get Carrie’s shit.” She stood, framed by the fading summer sunlight in a light-looking sleeveless top and a short, dark skirt. Her auburn hair was tied back, and she sucked on the straw sticking out of an almost comically large, plastic cup of the type that might accompany a cheap burger, which was altogether out of proportion to her small, thin frame. Her blue eyes watched John with an intensity that he found off-putting.
“Right this way, m’lady,” he said. Most of Carrie’s friends had been to John peripheral figures; he’d never really been sure of most of their names when interaction had been required. Carrie knew this and was, perhaps justifiably, perpetually annoyed with it. Linda, on the other hand, was well known. This was not, however, because of how well he had gotten along with her. He supposed it had more to do with Linda’s position as the closest of the female friends to Carrie, which he had not taken long to surmise. She had been there that fateful night when he and Carrie had hooked up and had not once missed a chance to give him the evil eye since. So it was with aplomb that he led her to the living room and announced “your shit,” while indicating the box, “I’m happy to dump all the shit I can into your hands.”
“Thanks,” she said between noisy sucks of her drink. “Where’s the rest of it?”
“Probably at your place,” John answered. “I understand she’s living with you now. In any case, this is all the shit that I have.”
“No, that can’t be it,” Linda said. “Where’s all the rest of her shit?”
“Look,” John said. “I have no idea what shit you are talking about. I had no idea what shit Carrie was talking about when she came over twice and failed to take her shit. So you are welcome to look around and take any other shit in the house. But I have no idea what it is. Let me know if you need help putting my furniture into your car or something.” He flopped down onto the couch dramatically, picked up his beer, and took a swig. Delicious.