Page 17 of Rescuing the Writer

Wasn’t there some cheesy love song from the eighties about that? Whatever. I got up and headed for the bathroom, where I ditched the condom and quickly cleaned myself.

What did I do now? Head back to bed for round two as if nothing ever happened? That wouldn’t be tough to pull off, considering how I felt. My cock would be down for a repeat, no doubt. The thought of being inside Melbourne again was enough for it to perk up.

But that wouldn’t do. I couldn’t just pretend everything was fine. I had a lot to make up for. But how?

Then it came to me, and it was so obvious that I grinned with the exhilaration of it as I stretched out next to Melbourne again.

“You look like a burglar who just cracked a safe that holds a million dollars,” Melbourne said.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Melbourne’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“I want to experience what it’s like to bottom. You said you were vers, right?”

“Yeah, but?—”

“And you haven’t come yet.”

Melbourne slowly shook his head. “What’s gotten into you? How did you go from looking like a lost puppy to being this confident?” Then he narrowed his eyes. “You’re not doing this out of some misguided feeling of having to make it up to me, right?”

I deflated. “Maybe?”

Melbourne curled his hand around my cheek. “You’re not hearing me, Waylon. There is nothing to make up for. You did nothing wrong. It’s sex. Sex is messy and imperfect. Things go wrong. Condoms break or come off. Someone farts or burps. And in your case, someone enjoyed his first time with a man so much that he came sooner than he’d planned. So fucking what? I’d say it’s a compliment to me and the quality of my ass that, at my age, I can still make a guy fifteen years younger come within minutes. How’s that?”

My mouth had dropped open at first, but now I snorted, and then I lost it. Somehow, Melbourne’s over-the-top rant broke through my self-punishment and feelings of inadequacy. He was right. It was ridiculous to think sex had to be perfect to be enjoyable. And it was a compliment to him that I’d enjoyed myself into a premature orgasm. When my laughter died down, it was my turn to hold his cheek and kiss him softly. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

“Good. You’re welcome.” His eyes were soft as he smiled at me. “I’d love to fuck you, darling, but not when you feel you have to do it to make it up to me. So I need you to take a moment and think about it. Do you really want it? Or are you only offering because you feel you have to?”

Was I? When I’d dreamed about having sex with a man—those rosy and, in hindsight, unrealistic reels in my head where everything had been perfect—I’d never pictured myself as just the top. I’d also imagined my partner inside me, sharing that with someone special.

And then it hit me. Melbourne was my someone special. No, I wasn’t in love with him. But I could be. I could easily see myself with this man in two weeks, two months, two years. Wasn’t that enough to give myself wholly?

“I want it for me because I want you to teach me that part too. You’ve been…” Honesty. Full-blown honesty. “I like you. I know I shouldn’t say that because it’ll violate some rule about how this is only sex, but I don’t care. If you don’t want anything more, then that’s fine. I’ll accept that and enjoy what we have. But if you like me too, at least enough to see where this could go if we let it, then maybe you could…stay?”

Oh shit. That had gotten a hell of a lot more serious than I’d planned.

Melbourne stared at me, emotions flashing over his face. Shock. Disbelief. Frustration or maybe even anger. But then…a smile. Eyes that grew a little misty and the sweetest, goofiest smile. “You’re fearless. Absolutely fearless. I’m so in awe of you,” he said softly. “You just lay it all out there, bare your soul to me as if I don’t have the power to crush it.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Of course I know that. You’d never hurt me deliberately.”

“No.” He caressed my cheek. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“So?”

He inhaled sharply. “So I will fuck you.”

That hadn’t been the question, and we both knew it, but it was okay. I didn’t need his answer now.

“Okay.”

He was as careful with me as I had been with him, probably even more because he knew this was uncharted territory for me. But any worry I might’ve had about pain vanished as his skilled fingers opened me for him, already teasing me with electric currents down my spine, into my balls, my cock. He grazed my prostate with his middle finger, and I made a sound I’d never heard myself make.

“Darling, you open so beautifully for me… Mmm, getting you all ready for me, for my cock. Can’t wait to be inside you, show you how good this can be.”

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