A gay story: Hookup Games I’d been sitting reading, with the lights out and just a lamp on in the sunroom at the rear of the house. Nero heard you first, lifting his head and then going to the back door and looking about, alert. There was a full moon, and I couldn’t see anything in the backyard. But I knew there was someone there, outside in the garden or the neighbor’s garden. Nero is never wrong. Anna’s sons go outside to make calls on their mobiles, and Nero always knows they are there before I hear their voices begin strange, one-sided, half-grunted conversations in the darkness.
But no voice started up this time. Nero stayed alert but was turned to the side of the house away from Anna’s, and I felt a rush of adrenalin surge through me. Like raw heat. And putting my book aside silently, I stood and crept back into the house and to the big dining room window that looked onto the narrow side strip of ferns and hanging baskets that screened me from my neighbors.
And there you were. My pulse raced now because in the light of the full moon, I recognized the silver light reflected from the steel studs on your leather jacket.
I felt my cock jumping, and my hand reached involuntarily for it as I slipped, panting, into the deeper shadows of the room.
Now that I am totally attuned to your arrival, I hear you outside. You are trying to enter the house stealthily. I remember you from the bar the other night, and from two nights before that. You looked at me broodingly, and I knew you wanted to hook up then, but I wanted to run you; I wanted you to want me so badly you’d track me down and take me roughly.
You were rough trade; that’s why I was attracted to you at the bar. Just what I want.
I know it won’t take you long to find the back door open and break into the house. I rush back there and grab Nero and carry him to the spare room. I drop him in there and close the door, hoping he understands that tonight I don’t want a guard dog to protect me.
Then I hurry to my bed, and I hear a creak on the back step as I strip my clothes off, tossing them aside in a frenzy to be naked, so I can arrange my body in a provocative pose that I know will arouse you. I spread my legs for you, pretending that I’m still asleep. I want you to enter me thinking that I’m still asleep, that you are taking me unaware, roughly-against my will, supposedly. But, of course, not really.
I want it rough, and I want you to think you are taking it from me. I’ll fight you, but only briefly. I’ll let you overwhelm me. I want you to think I have melted to you, almost against my will. I want you as long and thick and virile as possible. I want you moving deep inside me, roughly and fully taking me.
* * *
I had seen you in the bar several times and watched men swarming around you like bees around a honey pot. And I had seen how you loved that open attention, and I looked away as I was not one to give you that or to compete. But when I looked back, I found your eyes fixed on mine, and I knew I wanted you more than any of them did.
Then last night I sat closer, waiting for an opening, and you laughed, as someone felt you up with his mouth buried in your neck, adding loudly, looking my way, into my eyes, “I like it rough sometimes. I like to be surprised. Overcome.”
Soon after, your groper and his friend had pulled you up and you had left, arms wrapped about each other. And I had followed the three of you, my body aching to have you. I zipped up my studded leather jacket and climbed on my bike, imagining you between my thighs, curling my body over my machine and for once regretting the deep throbbing rumbling roar it makes as I move off, following the white Saab you three are leaving in.
I stay back, hard to do when I want to roar up to the Saab and drag you from the car and from your smooth friends. Then throw you down on your back before me on my bike and drive into you, your legs kicking wildly as you struggle, before I show you the paradise my hard-driving cock can give you, your legs then embracing my hips as I ride you.
Tonight, though, I am creeping around your house under a full moon, wondering if I am mad. I am a weekend warrior, the leather and bike toys allowing me to play at being something I am not, wanting to be as different when I cruise the male bars as I can be from my “real” life. But I am big and muscular, and I look dangerous. And tonight I want you to believe I am, as I find the open back door, and the step creaks, and I climb inside your house.
Silence. I stand frozen, listening. Then suddenly a voice is talking somewhere, and for a moment, I panic. Then I realize it is someone outside, away from the back door, talking into a phone. I breathe rapidly, the adrenalin pumping and my cock pressing against my jeans. I am even more aroused now by what I am doing.
You are on your bed, tossing and turning, restless, and not knowing why, tangled in the sheets when I find you. And you don’t realize I am there, so I watch you for a while moving in your half sleep, your cock half full and your hand lying on your belly, resting in the curly hair that runs down to your bush. Your legs are spread, and one is slightly bent, and I am stroking myself into full hardness, overcome by lust for you and wanting to take you as you wake, take you suddenly and powerfully as if I am a stranger and have overcome you in some fantasy. Possessing you completely, entering you roughly, making you cry out repeatedly and spill your seed between us, before you realize who I am.
I strip off quietly outside your door, never taking my eyes from you, seeing that you are having a nighttime arousal and your cock is growing as I watch.
Naked, I enter your bedroom, and my meat is rock hard for you. I strip off your sheet and in the same motion am kneeling between your thighs as I grasp your legs and push them wide. You are suddenly awake and struggling, but I am too strong for you and force you down. One hand covering your mouth to stop your shouts, as my fingers dig roughly for your hole. My body pressing you back, stopping you escaping from me.
You grunt and struggle, but I have now got possession of you, my fingers buried inside you, feeling your heat and smoothness. Your organ is a rod pressed to my belly as mine lies throbbing against your thigh. Three fingers are probing you now, and you shudder and spout cream up your belly. Yes, yes. I slide my cock and belly against you, feeling its creamy wetness.
Now you are struggling less, and I have your legs wide and my cock head is searching for your entrance and finds it.
Yes. I am rough and brutal as I enter you. Force gets my nob past your rim, as you buck your hips trying to throw me off. Then I am in buried in your sweet channel, and my arms, gripping you in a bear hug, lift you up and keep you immovable as I roll my hips and work myself inside you.
I am lost in a dream and the smell of you and the sound of your moans and my grunting.
“Oh baby,” I murmur as my mouth searches for yours. “Baby, baby.”
We kiss. Mouths possessing and arousing. You move with me, and I ease my tight hug so that you hang back slightly, away from me, and I watch your face as you run your hands over your body and mine, stroke yourself, and moan to my fucking. And you can see now who I am.
As you ejaculate, and spill your seed between us, I come deep inside you, my semen flowing into you and possessing your center.
Later, as we lie there, you curled against me as I lie around you, my tumescent cock resting inside you; I confess to you that really I am an accountant. You sigh, kiss my hand, lying under your head, and say, “I knew that.”