Page 12 of My First Time Fling

“It’s not a big deal,” he said. “But I think it’s great you’re going to get to spend time with her.”

“Well, for now,” I said, taking a gulp of water. I set the glass down on the counter as I swallowed. “But the whole point of me helping her fix the house is so that she can sell it and move somewhere with a ‘dry heat,’ whatever that means. She says she doesn’t want to be a burden to us, which I’ve told her is stupid, but she’s convinced.”

Jesse’s eyes got a faraway look before he answered. “I can understand that,” he said, finally. “My mom used to say that all the time, how she hated being a burden to me and my sister. She has MS and needs a lot of help getting around. I love her and don’t mind, and she knows that, but still. When my sister moved home, my mom was happy that I could move up here. She told me I was finally going to get to follow my dreams instead of taking care of her.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize…thatisreally sweet of you to take care of your mom like that.

“I guess.” Jesse gave me a small smile. “I don’t know. It was hard sometimes, but it’s just what you do for someone you love, you know?”

“Is that why you want to go back home?”

He sighed. “Honestly, I don’t even know. I kind ofdon’twant to, actually, because I feel like I’d be letting her down. She really wanted me to have a chance to succeed, now that I didn’t need to be available to her all the time. So I miss her, but I also feel like I don’t have anything to show for myself after being gone for over a year.” He grimaced. “Wow, this conversation has gotten super depressing. Can we start running again so that I can only talk in grunts?”

“You’re actually volunteering to run more?” I asked, incredulous. “I think we’ve finally found a way to motivate you. I’ll just chase you down the street reading depressing statistics fromWikipedia.”

“This is going to be a long two miles back to town.”

“About that,” I said, as Jesse handed me his glass. “Before we met up this morning, I went for a warm-up run and then ran into town to meet you, instead of driving.”

“How long?”

“Five miles,” I said, feeling myself flush again. “I shouldn’t have, because I’ve been feeling a blister build up for the last few. Do you mind if I actually don’t run back into town with you?”

“You mean do I mind if you don’t run two additional miles on top of the, what, nine that you’ve already run?” Jesse laughed. “Nah, I think you’re off the hook.”

“But you have to actually run back,” I said as we walked through the hallway to the front door. “No slacking off just because I’m not there to keep an eye on you.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll make sure to picture your eyes on me the whole way home,” he said, then laughed abruptly. “Wow, I didnotrealize how suggestive that sounded until I said it. But you know what I mean.”

Did I? I said goodbye to Jesse and wandered upstairs to shower, turning his words over in my mind. Maybe the problem wasn’t what Jesse meant, but whatImeant. I was pretty sure he was just being playful with me. That seemed like his M.O.

But why did it feel like it was working?

I was still thinking about it as I stepped out of the shower and back into my bedroom to get changed. Jesse had joked about me having my eyes on him, and it was true that I could still see him in my mind’s eye. The light flush in his cheeks, the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed. The way his T-shirt had clung to his lean frame as he ran.

It wasn’t until I’d slipped my towel off that I realized I was hard. Jesus, where had that come from? It couldn’t be from thinking about Jesse, could it?

I lay back on my bed and tried to think it through. I’d only ever dated women, only ever been interested in them. Or so I’d thought.

Sure, there had been a few times when I’d caught a glimpse of another guy in a locker room or in some state of undress and I’d felt…something. I didn’t know what. Just something stirring inside of me.

But I’d always told myself that could happen to anybody. It didn’t mean I was attracted to men, just that I’d probably gone a little while without getting any kind of physical release.

Was that what was happening now? It had been a long time. And I was barely sleeping these days. That could be playing a role, too, making me confused. Or maybe I was just reacting to being physically close to Jesse, or to him being nice to me.

But that couldn’t explain why I kept picturing his lips when he smiled, the way they pulled back, slightly crooked, and made me wonder what they would feel like to kiss. What it would be like to run my tongue along them, to taste the inside of his mouth, to feel his stubble pressed against my face.

The only thing that could explain it, I realized, was that I was attracted to Jesse. And not because he was funny, sweet, and made me feel like I’d known him for years. Or at least, notjustbecause of that. I couldn’t stop picturing his eyes, his smile, his body. I couldn’t explain what it meant or where it was coming from. But I wanted him. The evidence was right in front of me—and in my hand, before I could stop myself. It was that simple.

I circled the tip of my cock with my fingers, teasing it lightly as I pictured Jesse smiling. Then I pumped up and down the shaft in long, steady strokes, imagining his eyes, and how surprised he would be if I kissed him. Would he pull away, confused? Or would he kiss me back, those eyes of his saying everything our lips couldn’t?

Would he let me undress him, let me see what was underneath his running clothes? Would he want to see me without mine on? I wondered what he’d think if he knew I was stroking myself, my cock hard at the thought of getting him naked.

He’d probably be shy, and make some kind of self-deprecating remark about his body, which was stupid, because as far as I could tell, it was perfect. I liked to picture the smooth lines of his torso, slim and quick. I wanted to run my hands up and down his frame.

I pumped my cock harder now, feeling the stimulation build. Would he want to see me naked? To see how hard I was for him? He’d made it clear that he was into guys, but he also clearly thought I was straight. Hell, I’d always thought I was straight too, until, well, a few minutes ago.

What would he do if he knew I was picturing those sweet lips of his sliding along my cock, sucking me in? Would he be interested? Or would he tell me to get a grip, that just because he was gay, that didn’t mean he wanted every guy who crossed his path?

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