Tommy's Arse

Ah Tuesday, what to do? I'm getting up later and later, the 7am drill has left me. Ten thirty is always a nice time to get up, a fraction earlier would be great too.

Ah, the kitchen in the relative gentleness of the soft morning light, with no where I have to go. Grind coffee beans, pour milk over my muesli, feel the soft fur of my cat, Milo, rubbing against my ankles.

Roll a joint, gently chastising myself and promising that I won’t tomorrow morning.

Tomorrow I will be smoke free. Tomorrow I will be smoke free. Tomorrow I will be smoke free. Tomorrow I will be smoke free. Tomorrow I will be smoke free…

I must tell Nick not to bring any over. Last time I said no, he said,

“Oh, indulge me, it's what I'd like to be doing, let me,” he said “It is the 21st Century gay boy version of mangiare! Mangiare!”

Tommy came over, he looked adorable in black shorts and a black t-shirt and a black baseball cap on backwards and black runners.

We watched, This Is It, Michael Jackson, together, I was about to watch it when he arrived. He lay next to me on the couch.

I wondered about this movie, would Michael ever have shown it?

I got Tommy shit-faced stoned. I had rolled several joints before he arrived, not particularly for him, but that is who got them.

It was clear Michael was in charge and not some zombie druggie, pin cushion. It was interesting as a glimpse of what might have been.

I had the urge to play with Tommy's arse, for the first time. I slid my hand down his shorts.

"Hey," he slurred. His eyes are heavy.

He didn't move, it's nice that intimate ease.

He just relaxed as my finger found his warm hairy hole. He’s sexily fuzzy all the way along his crack. I slowly slid the tip of my finger into him, gently, parting his flesh slowly. He spread his legs and groaned quietly. I could almost feel the colour pink.

We lay there in silence, watching Billy Jean, as I fingered him gently. He slid his hand down his pants and started to pull himself. He looked adorable.

"Are you going to fuck me," he panted.

I was so relaxed, I just wanted to feel his warm insides on the end of my finger. I want to fuck him alright, but not today, I want to draw it out, make him really want it.

"Yeah, one day."

He relaxed and spread his legs and let me feel inside him, gently, slowly, slowly. He liked it, his fat cock was hard in his hand.

"That feels good."

It was hot watching him pull himself. He looked sexy as the muscles in his arms ripped, and the muscles in his neck got taut. His stomach flattened, and his chest puffed up. How his thighs tensed up and his face turned red as his feet lifted off the ground, as he blew.

I had up to the first joint of my finger up inside him, when he started to pant really hard and then he kind of choked on his breathing and blew his load all over his t-shirt.

He clamped down so hard on my finger, as he came, it was so hot.

He smiled lazily and looked down at himself.

"Shit, I have to go back home with this spoof stain on my shirt."

"I've got one I can give you."

"Save mum..." He smiled. "I think she knows."

"Why?"

"Oh, just things she's said. Nothing really, but there have been moments... when she's talked about you."

"What..."

"Oh... nice things."

I lay my head back against the couch. "I think she knows too."