Jump to content

Laura S. Fox

Author: Author
  • Content count

  • Joined

  • Last visited

Community Reputation

1,856 I'm Awesome

About Laura S. Fox

  • Rank
    Awesome Member

Profile Information

Contact Methods

Recent Profile Visitors

2,869 profile views
  1. Laura S. Fox

    Little Boxes

    Chapter Thirteen – Little Boxes He woke up with the first rays of sun gently invading the room through the curtains. He could not remember ever feeling so well rested. Usually, he was a fussy sleeper, as there always had to be something ready to annoy him, be it a crumpled sheet, a pillow all in knots, or his own mind trying to solve this or that. “Morning,” Aron nuzzled his neck, waking up with the first stir from Carter. “Um,” was the only thing he could say. Last night, he had sucked his best friend’s dick and had his own sucked back. How the fuck was he going to come back from this? Alex was going to get pissed when he was going to get his body back. There was no way the douchebag was not going to suspect that something had happened. Or maybe Carter’s body was in such a deep coma that Alex’s soul was not conscious, either. For the guy, maybe it was just going to be like he would just wake up in his own body and never know that he had been in Carter’s body. And that was all that was to that. “What’s with the frown?” Aron pressed his index finger between Carter’s eyebrows. Great, he was making faces again. “I have such a crappy day ahead,” he said right away. “Really?” Aron seemed surprised. “Yolanda may sound like a shrew from time to time, but I know she loves you.” “No, it’s not her,” Carter replied. “It’s Thursday, right? I have barre.” His voice was so despondent that he was going to sink the Titanic if need be. “You used to like it,” Aron said slowly, like he was trying to find his words. “Yeah, but come on, do I really need to prance around in tights? There’s no other way for me to keep in shape?” “I believe you told me that it was after much deliberation that you decided on ballet.” Now Aron looked confused. But it was a good occasion as any to find a way to get rid of that kind of fitness regimen. Only the thought was giving him the willies. “I think I’m ready to turn the page,” he said with conviction. “What’s the point of being a star if I cannot do fun stuff? Like basketball,” he added. “As you say, Mr. Star,” Aron chuckled. “Mr. Star?” Carter snorted. “I thought I was Mr. Ruskin.” Now it was Aron who looked at him with stars in his eyes. “You made me so happy when you told me you wanted to take my name.” Carter bit his lower lip. Why was this making him feel like he was turning to mush inside? And hey, he wasn’t Alex. Period. He needed to repeat that enough times in his head. He was so obviously getting ahead of himself with this whole body swap thing. “I did, didn’t I?” he said ruefully, as he yawned and stretched, to cover whatever he was feeling inside. “We didn’t talk yesterday,” Aron let one hand caress Carter’s closest flank slowly. “What about?” Carter asked. “Ah, the dishes. Well, I had to say something to deflect that son of a bitch.” Aron laughed wholeheartedly. “You know, for a moment there, I thought I would not recognize you.” “Why?” Carter asked, puzzled. “You said that it reminded you of all the reasons you loved me, or something,” he added quickly, looking away. “Well, you used to be a lot like this in the beginning. So much fun. You reminded me of Carter … oh, damn, baby, I didn’t mean …” Aron stumbled on his own apology. Carter’s head almost snapped as he turned to look at his friend. “You mean you fell in love with me because I reminded you of Carter?” Aron’s face clouded. He was looking down and he was clearly distressed. “So sorry, baby, trust me, I didn’t mean to bring him up, it’s just that …” Carter pressed one hand over Aron’s mouth to stop him. Well, normally, Alex should have been mad at the mentioning of that old flame. But Carter wasn’t Alex, and, well, he was pretty damn curious. “I’m not mad,” he said, looking Aron in the eyes, to make sure his words were understood. “I just want to know. I’m going to remove my hand now, okay? And you’re not going to apologize again.” It was like he was kidnapping Aron and needed to make sure the guy was not going to yell. In a way, he was doing something illicit, and it was damn wrong, but, well, just like last night, Carter was pretty much convinced that he was going to hell anyway. Aron nodded, Carter’s hand still clamped hard on his mouth. Carter moved his hand away, slowly, like he really expected Aron to shout for help. “Now speak,” he demanded. His harsh tone wasn’t helping things. He could feel Aron shutting down on him, and he didn’t have the time, or the skills, to deal with this. “Aron, what of me reminded you of Carter?” he managed to tone down his voice. Aron groaned and lay on his back, looking at the ceiling. “You cannot let this get between us,” Carter had a sudden flash of memory from a movie he had once watched with one of his girlfriends. One of the few movies when he hadn’t fallen asleep or used the time to solve stuff in his head. If it worked for that particular romantic character, it had to work for him, too. “All right,” Aron spoke, but he sounded like he would very much like to be someplace else completely. There was a short pause, during which Carter took in his best friend’s profile. Aron had always been a handsome fellow. Not that Carter noticed such things about guys. Well, Aron was different. How come he had never wondered why Aron had never gotten involved seriously with girls? How come he hadn’t, either? “When I met you,” Aron started, with a small huff, “It was after a string of hook-ups and one night stands, and, well, a few failed attempts at relationships. I could not stop comparing everyone to Carter. I know, it’s stupid, and it was sex, anyway, pretty damn good sex, sometimes. Why the fuck do I stutter?” Aron covered his eyes. “How could you compare the guys you were fucking to Carter? Did you ever fuck Carter?” Now that was a horrid thought. What if something had happened when Carter had been shit-faced after a night drinking with Aron? “No, of course not,” Aron allayed his fears right away. “Just how insecure can you be, Alex? With your looks, anyone would think you’re one of the lucky few who don’t have to worry about being cheated on.” “Well, you’re the one in love with your best friend,” Carter snapped at the irritation in Aron’s voice. “Was,” Aron shot back. “Continue,” Carter crossed his arms over his chest. It was no insecurity talking for him, but frustration. He just needed to know. “Only if you stop pouting,” Aron turned his head to him. “Who’s pouting?” Carter frowned. “You,” Aron accused. “No shit,” Carter counter-attacked. Aron rolled his eyes. “I cannot believe I’m letting you convince me to shoot myself in the foot.” “You’re not. Just talk, okay?” Carter sighed. “I’m not coming after you with this. Just, let’s just get Carter out of the way.” It sounded so wrong. But he had no idea how to put it. “So, you were after fucking some dudes …” he made an attempt to pick it up where Aron had left off. “Yes, and I met you, and you were amazing,” Aron said quickly. “Not so damn fast. What of me made you think of Carter?” he drove home the point. “You were, I don’t know. You were laughing, in that bar, that evening, and I just turned to see who was having so much fun on a dull Wednesday night. Carter used to laugh a lot, at least, when we were young. We used to have so much fun. It’s true that sometimes he laughed at me, but he was coming up with such shitty jokes, that I could not be mad at him.” “So, I was laughing like him, was that all?” Carter asked. “No, of course not. And it was not like I thought about similarities right away. Must I remind you what happened?” “That would be great,” Carter said. “Okay, so I noticed you laughing, and I just decided that it wouldn’t hurt to try since I didn’t have anything to do anyway, and just drinking the evening away didn’t sound so swell without company.” “Yeah, being a sad lonely drunk is not your style,” Carter commented. “Did I say that to you about me, or you just noticed?” Aron frowned and looked at Carter. “I noticed,” Carter said, deadpan. Shit, was any knowledge he had about Aron overlapping, at least one bit, with what Alex knew? Damn, what a mess. “Anyway, I offered to buy you a drink as soon as you stepped away from your friends, and five minutes later, we were in my car and you were with your hands buried deep in my pants. The next day, all my waking hours, I wondered if I had been dreaming that this awesome guy had blown me in my car the other night. Then you texted and we started dating.” “Ah, well, at least you knew what you were getting yourself into,” Carter said philosophically. “I thought it was just going to be a fling, but I felt so at ease around you. When I was with you, I felt like I could be myself. And you looked at me, like I was the center of the universe or something. Carter used to do that, too,” Aron laughed softly. Talking about being a conceited bastard. But it was the truth, Carter mused. And Aron had used to be the center of his universe. His only true friend. The only human being in the whole world he could completely rely on. “I know it’s not easy to explain. But I felt like I could be myself with you. Well, when you weren’t working. I love you, baby, but you’re driving the fear of heaven and hell into those who are working with you. Otherwise, you were so easygoing and fun, it just felt to me like I … never mind.” “Hey, what did I tell you?” Carter demanded. “Cards on the table.” “Well, if you insist,” Alex blew air noisily through his nose, in an annoyed gesture. “It felt to me like I found a second Carter. A gay Carter.” Carter felt himself sinking slowly under the blanket. There was just no way! “Why are you hiding under the blanket?” Aron asked. “I’m nothing like A … Ah, Carter, damn it!” he shouted from underneath. “He plays basketball and eats pizza!” “Apparently so do you,” Aron pointed out and grabbed the blanket to tear it off Carter. “Hell, you’re having even more in common with him than you think.” Carter chose to look miffed as he stared at his friend from his disadvantaged position. “If it bothers you so much, why do you keep asking me about him?” Aron insisted and managed to pull the blanket back down. A warm hand rest atop his protruding hip bone. Carter could swear that was enough to make his body temperature rise a few degrees. They were both silent, and Aron’s hand began to move in small circles, his thumb going lower and lower, until it brushed by the side of Carter’s cock. Carter shivered, and he was pretty damn sure it wasn’t because of cold. But he was not going to let himself swayed from learning the truth. “If you were so in love with him, how come you never told him?” he blurted out. Aron’s hand stopped. He was thankful for that. “And risk losing him as a friend? Carter is as straight as they come, Alex,” Aron sighed. “Just look at how he reacted when we got married. That man is straight, end of story.” Yeah, definitely, Carter thought, shaking his head, mentally at least. A straight guy with a new found taste for his best friend’s cock, apparently. This time he shook his head for real. That had been just an accident. A one-time-thing. Could heavens just hurry and make him go back to his own body? He needed that old and familiar shell. He was pretty certain that he was not going to think about giving blowjobs once everything was going to be back to normal. “Wow,” he commented, with a small grimace. “But how did you manage to hide it from him? I mean, all this time … how long have you been in love with him?” “Seeing that I kissed him when we were 14 ... until 29, when I met you that would be 15 years, if I’m doing the math right.” “Holy shit,” Carter murmured. “Really, how did you manage?” “The high school years were the toughest,” Aron began speaking. “I didn’t know exactly what I was feeling at the time. I was starting to have a pretty solid suspicion I was gay, but I didn’t exactly want to admit that I had the hots for my best friend. Straight best friend, do keep that in mind, baby,” he added. “I do,” Carter sighed. “In college, we hung out together plenty, and then I was starting to fool around with some cool guys, so I was taking the edge off, so to speak. After that, I left the city. More like I fled, because I just could not stand him anymore blabbering about this or that girl.” “Was he sharing his sex adventures with you?” Carter pretended to be disgusted, just trying to stay in Alex’s character at his best of his abilities. “No, it wasn’t anything like that. But, with him, it was like the current girlfriend was the best woman in the world for exactly three days, after which he almost didn’t speak about her again.” Had he really done that? He liked to think he was courteous in his relationships with women. Was he that much of a scumbag? No wonder Aron thought he was much like Alex. Just two douchebags doing their thing. “Wow, what a bastard,” he commented, feeling much in the mood for a mental lashing. “He wasn’t like that,” Aron immediately jumped to his defense. “He’s like a head in the clouds kind of guy. And I think he compartmentalizes a lot. He gets annoyed if things are not in their little boxes. I suppose he wanted his girlfriends to fit into one of those, and none of them did. When that happened, he didn’t know what to do, so he just fell out of love.” Why did Aron have to be so accurate in his description of Carter? Well, his relationships were usually longer than three days, but it was true that he often became disinterested quite fast. And he did like things in boxes. Compartmentalized. They were just easier to deal with, while he could see about his usual thoughts involving solving this or that. “What I cannot understand,” Carter began, “is what you see in that guy. He’s just so plain.” Aron pursed his lips and seemed a bit annoyed. “He is clearly not as beautiful as you,” Aron said cautiously. “But the girls thought he was cute, and I, well, I thought he was pretty damn handsome and sexy. I don’t mean to make you jealous or anything, baby, but that guy has a really nice ass. Not that I care about that now,” Aron added quickly and looked away. “You must be joking,” Carter murmured. “What about that guy is handsome? He only has plain brown hair and plain brown eyes, and I don’t remember his butt, but ...” “Alex,” Aron stopped him. “Stop being jealous of him. And you were the one curious and asking questions. If you don’t like the truth, fine, we’ll just stop talking.” “Fair enough,” Carter agreed. “All right, your taste in men is fucked up, and I’ll leave it at that.” Aron glared but said nothing. “So, all this time, you did nothing to raise his suspicions?” Carter chose to turn back to the conversation thread. “You’re quite the stoic, man.” “Eh, let’s just say that I knew it was wrong,” Aron shook his head. “And I did my fair share of stupid things.” Carter froze. “What did you do?” his words barely came out. “He used to sleep at my house a lot, even after growing up.” Yeah, he remembered that. He was certain he had slept more at Aron’s house than in his own bed. In a way, Aron’s house was more his home than his real one. Even Aron’s parents … whatever, it was old history. After a small dramatic pause, Aron continued. “I once stole one of his t-shirts. Well, not exactly. But I told him that my mom won’t be bothered if I threw some of his stuff in our washing machine. I loved his smell. Especially after a day out, playing ball.” “You fucking pervert, what did you do?” Carter mumbled. Aron laughed. He had no idea what danger he was in. “I won’t go into details. Let’s say that that wasn’t my proudest fap. My mom was so startled to find me fiddling with the washing machine. Let’s just say that there were some traces of …” “Too much info,” Carter said quickly. Now he was mortified. His best friend had fapped to his t-shirt? Well, not the t-shirt, but the smell … okay, he needed to admit it. He was way out of his league here. “At least, I didn’t kiss him in his sleep again,” Aron laughed. “Although I did let him kiss me a few times when he was drunk. He is very affectionate with several drinks in his system.” When had that happened?! All his neurons, dead or alive, grabbed protest signs, ready to unionize. “He kissed you,” he said, hoping that he had just heard it all wrong. “Yeah, well, it was nothing. Who can make sense of what drunk people do? And he never remembered anything the next day.” “He kissed you,” Carter repeated, “on the mouth?” Aron chuckled, getting even more on Carter’s nerves. “Yes, full on the lips.” “Tongue?” Carter inquired, in rapid fire. “What is this? You’re grilling me?” Aron suddenly moved and climbed on top of Carter’s body, pushing the blanket all the way down, and making him spread open. Carter set his chin, seeing that otherwise he was immobilized as Aron was holding his hands down, too, into his. “Tongue or not tongue?” Aron rolled his eyes. “I wished there was tongue in there. No, he was just smooching me loudly, saying crazy stuff, such as I was the only person in the world who could understand him.” “Why was that crazy?” “Well, Carter is the type of person that is well liked, even though god knows he’s not making any effort in that direction. Well, that was after we went to college, because in high school … But never mind. I’d say he sometimes even tried to do the opposite, to drive people away. But no one took him seriously. He is just endearing like that, I guess. And it explains why so many women like him. I can safely say that the guy will never suffer from a shortage of girlfriends.” If Carter thought correctly, he hadn’t had a girlfriend in almost two years. Ever since Aron had gotten married to the douchebag. Like he had been in mourning, or something. “Don’t tell me you’re upset now that he didn’t use his tongue when kissing me,” Aron glared from above. “You could have kissed back,” Carter retorted, without thinking. Why was his mouth running away without him? He needed a sewing kit to solve this once and forever. “And take advantage of my best friend while he was drunk?” Aron frowned. “I hope you know I’m better than that.” “Show me how he kissed you,” Carter demanded. There was no way he had been that much of an idiot. Aron was lying. He had to. It was impossible. Although Aron never lied. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Aron grimaced. “Yeah, show me.” “Okay,” Aron shrugged and straightened himself up, and then pulled Carter to him. Being so close, face to face, eyes to eyes, was making his heart beat faster. Good thing he could not focus as Aron leaned in. It was a good a reason as any to close his eyes. “Ouch,” he yelled in surprise. Aron was pinching both his cheeks hard. And then he planted a loud kiss on Carter’s lips. “See? This was what he did.” Carter began massaging his cheeks. “And you let him?” “I just told you I did,” Aron replied. “No, not the kiss, this,” he said as he continued to rub his face. “It fucking hurts.” “Don’t be such a cry baby. Jeesh, can you be more like Carter? He didn’t like it when his aunts came around to do that, truth be told. Makes me wonder why he was doing it.” “Well, do you like it?” Carter grabbed Aron by his cheeks and pulled as hard as he could to the sides. Aron laughed, making Carter’s fingers slide away. “You’ll have to do more than this to hurt me, baby,” he said with a small smile. “Do you want me to hurt you?” Carter asked, bent on making Aron pay for his little confessions. A small shadow passed Aron’s face, his smile fading a little. Carter knew the guy well. At least he thought that. And right now, Aron’s breath was deepening, his eyes were becoming hooded … this was not exactly something familiar to Carter. He cleared his throat and swallowed the moth ball at the back of his tongue. Aron pulled him close and their cocks and balls were now touching. Funny how that felt. Like he could make the outline of Aron’s manhood in resting phase with his own. “I never kissed Carter with tongue,” Aron chuckled, “but I sure as hell want to kiss you with tongue now.” Carter made a small whining sound as Aron caressed his jawline slowly. He leaned into the touch, like a cat dying to be petted. This was so terribly unfair. Aron brushed his lips against his, teasing at first, making Carter want nothing but to open his mouth and let the guy do whatever. Why did his best friend have to be such a great kisser? He could not remember anyone making him feel like this. And also wish for the earth to open up, so that the pits of hell could swallow him already, no stop in purgatory for ice cream, or anything. “Aron,” he mumbled, as the guy just continued to nip at his lips, driving him crazy. “Aren’t you supposed to leave for work?” Aron grunted in response. “Is that a yes? Or no? Sorry, I don’t speak the language,” his words came out funny, while Aron pulled at his bottom lip using teeth. “It means I want you,” Aron whispered against his lips and this time delved in, pulling Carter’s head with one hand, to deepen the kiss. This was nothing but tongue-fucking. He could live with it, if that was all. But he couldn’t even act surprised when Aron pushed him back against the bed, folding his legs and pushing between them. They were literally rubbing their cocks together. It was like dry humping, with the sole exception that it wasn’t exactly dry. He could feel Aron’s cock weeping a little on his belly, and that was probably starting to happen to him, too. Damn, he was so easily excited by anything Aron did. “You like this, baby?” Aron asked, letting him breathe for a change. “Are you kidding me?” Carter murmured. Aron laughed. “Not exactly good with this, but I think I can manage,” Aron apologized. Carter had no idea what the guy was talking about, but when Aron straightened up a bit, to align their cocks together and grabbed them in his large hand, he began to understand. It was like a normal jerk off, only that it wasn’t. His cock felt nice being pressed against like that. It was like he could feel Aron’s cock pulsing, but that could not be, right? Aron was a bit rough, but it wasn’t like he was complaining. Carter was just breathing hard now, holding Aron by his shoulders, and looking down in disbelief at what was going on. “Tell me how you want to hurt me, baby,” Aron cooed. Hurt Aron? What the hell was the guy talking about? Oh, like in BDSM and stuff? Carter could not be further out his knowledge range. He had a vague idea of leather and chains, but nothing really could count as a memory he could use. Well, Aron would have to settle for whatever crazy thing Carter could think of at the moment. He let his mind wonder. How would Aron like to be hurt? Put on his fours and given a good spanking? Nah, that sounded strange and awkward. He tried to imagine the scene. Aron’s ass was nice, curved, strong, as he could remember from last night when he had stared at the guy’s back through his silk pajama pants. How would Aron look ... “I’d ask you to put your hands against the wall, feet apart,” he began speaking breathily. “You’re naked and not allowed to turn ... I’d caress your ass, squeezing it, prepping it for what will come next ...” Aron’s mouth was a bit slack now, and his eyes hooded when he looked at Carter. “I’ll hit you hard the first time, to make sure you’re paying attention ...” he whispered. Aron grunted in response, and his hand on their joint cocks became frantic. Carter could feel his eyes rolling in his head. That rough rubbing felt too damn good. And the imagined sight of Aron, his strong body, obeying, all at his mercy, was sending flares straight to his brain, and eddies of warmth and cold down his back. “I won’t let you know when I’ll land the next hit ...” he murmured, feeling more and more far gone. “What are you using? Your hand? Or something else?” Aron’s voice was as rough as his hand, but Carter now knew there was nothing but raw desire there. “Hmm, a spanking paddle?” he remembered Aron’s words from before when he had threatened his husband with a bit of discipline. He could hear the sound of the wooden device connecting with Aron’s firm flesh in his mind. Over and over again. The moans, groans, and pleas from the imaginary Aron mixing with the sounds his best friend was making now. But that wasn’t what he wanted. He actually wanted to be able to caress the abused flesh afterward and turn Aron to face him and with a kiss, to make this strong amazing man drop to his knees in front of him. “I don’t want to hurt you, Aron,” he whispered, “but I do want you on your knees, sucking me off,” he managed, and dropped on the pillows, squirming in Aron’s hand and exploding all over his chest. It was like a fountain going on forever, as he arched off the bed. It took him some time to realize that Aron was doing the same thing, all his cum spraying all over Carter’s body. It was official: he was lusting after his best friend in the worst possible way. Aron moved to crash by his side. “Am I supposed to go to work now?” Carter complained after a while, to break the comfortable silence lazily stretching between them. Aron laughed. “You do have a nice glow now. Yolanda will surely appreciate it.” Carter laughed, too. “I suppose,” he looked at Aron. He wasn’t the only one with a nice glow, by the looks of it. “So, if you’re not doing barre after work, what are your plans?” Aron asked. “I don’t know. What are yours?” “I’ll go visit Carter, see how he’s been doing. I know the nurse always tells me over the phone that the situation hasn’t changed, but I want to see him, as often as I can,” Aron spoke, his face slowly clouding. “I want to come with you,” Carter said, without overthinking anything. “You do? I mean, that’s great,” Aron’s face lit up a little. “I know this isn’t easy for you. But I’m thankful you’re willing to overlook his stupid outburst from that time. You’re really supportive and I appreciate it, Alex,” he added and reached for Carter to caress his chest. “Let’s go wash, you’re a mess,” he chuckled, as he spread their combined essence all over Carter’s skin. “And whose fault is that?” he protested. Even now, after they were both satiated, Aron’s fingertips were raising goose bumps all over. “Aron,” he whispered. What could he do? Blurt out something like ‘I’m not your husband’? The prospect of being sent to the looney bin was no more attractive than it had been before. And what could be the upside in that? In the crazy off-chance that Aron believed him, everyone was just going to end up hurt. And that was when, for the first time in his life, he realized he was being nothing but a fucking coward. *** “I noticed that you didn’t take your car to work,” Aron commented as they walked together towards the door, and Carter was fiddling with his phone to call a taxi. “My car?” he mumbled. His car was currently a Porsche Spyder and he felt like he was going to just commit another sacrilege by getting behind the wheel of that beautiful beast. Well, he needed to be a bit philosophical about it. Was it worse than getting down and dirty with Alex’s husband? In comparison, driving the guy’s car didn’t seem like such a big faux pas. “Yes, dummy,” Aron mistook his prolonged silence for something else, and ruffled his hair. If Aron was going to tickle him behind the ears, too, he was certain he was going to start purring, or roll on the floor with his belly up. He had never had a dog, nor a cat. He was a bit uncertain about the behavior of pets. But he definitely liked being treated like one by Aron. “Have you ever thought of Carter as your pet?” he asked, without thinking. “My pet?” Aron looked at him, amused. “I prefer to think of him as my best friend. I doubt thinking of him as an animal ever crossed my mind. But where does this question come from?” Maybe from me wanting you to take me home, Carter thought, and, again, he had no idea why some of his thoughts made a move to escape their confined spaces, when he least expected. “Alex? You really are a scattered brain this morning, aren’t you?” Aron said affectionately and pulled him into a hug. “Yeah, I guess. I just say stupid things,” he made a lame excuse to explain himself, but relished in Aron’s warm embrace. “I’m so happy I have you back,” Aron talked into his hair, refusing to let go. “I wasn’t badly hurt,” he spoke. What could Aron have felt like when the news had reached him about his husband involved in a traffic accident? He wasn’t sure he wanted to think about that. Aron, as strong as he was, must have been scared. And that he could not live with. The least he could do was to offer the man some reassurance. At least, his husband’s body was in one piece. The rest, he needed to have it figured out. Somehow. “I’m here, don’t worry,” he caressed Aron’s shoulders in response. This was something people would say, right? Given the circumstances. “This is not only about the accident,” Aron continued, without letting go. “I feel like you really came back to me.” What could that mean? “You’re yourself again, no longer as angry and insecure as you were lately. Should I attempt to run you over a little to have the real you?” The real you. Simple words, stabs through the heart. He patted Aron’s back. “Come on, man. I need to get to work and you’re leaving spots on this fancy jacket with your tears,” he made an attempt to joke. Aron ignored him and embraced him even more tightly. “Who’s crying, dummy?” Aron chided him and let him be only so he could kiss Carter on the lips. Was this how this is going to be? His knees were weak and he could swear his eyes felt funny, like they were prickling. He was in hell and not entirely sure if it was of his own making or not. *** He stopped for a moment and took in the magnificent vehicle in front of him. A sense of unworthiness was washing over him, but he was getting used to it. So much that he wore it like a second skin. He moved like in a trance and climbed on the driver’s seat, accepting with a clammy hand the keys Aron had almost forced into his palm. The smell of genuine leather tickled his nostrils and he exhaled as he ignited the engine. Yes, that was beautiful. “See? No point in being nervous,” Aron chuckled and leaned to rest his elbows on the rolled down window. “I guess not,” Carter beamed at his best friend. “I didn’t mention it in the house,” Aron spoke, “but thank you for ... you know, putting that behind us.” “That?” Carter stared at Aron and blinked. “That thing with Simon,” Aron sighed and looked away. Carter looked at Aron, and he could swear his blinking eyelids were making small, tinny sounds. He was on auto mode and had no idea what to do. Aron straightened up and patted the hood of the car in passing. “What about Simon?” Carter called after him. “It doesn’t matter,” Aron waved. “It’s all in the past now. And you’re mine!” he declared with pathos, turning towards Carter and opening his arms wide. Damn, Aron looked so happy right now. But the not so bright part was that Aron knew. But what exactly did he know? How much did he know? TBC
  2. Laura S. Fox

    Gay For You. Or Something.

    Chapter Twelve – Gay For You. Or Something. Carter inhaled Aron’s warmth, as they stood there, in the door. Okay, he hoped the guy was not going to get all sentimental because he had absolutely no idea how to deal with such a thing. As his best friend, Aron had never gotten so mushy over him, or over anything. He had been Carter’s rock, well, at least, until they fell apart. Aron broke their hug and grabbed him by the neck in an affectionate manner. Carter let out a long breath, and together, they walked into the house. He was about to say something, when Aron grabbed him again and this time pushed him with his back against the solid wooden door, once inside. “Shit,” he mumbled, but Aron’s mouth was all over his, shutting him up. Fuck, why did Aron taste so nice? He had only kissed girls all his life, and this was so off the scale, that he could not even think straight. Maybe Aron was one of those guys meant to make straight guys question their sexuality or something. Not that he was questioning his. Not in the least. The tongue in his mouth was doing a funny dance. He moaned against his better judgment. Aron withdrew only to nip at his lips, gently for a bit, harsher a moment later. Like the guy was hungry. Carter had a mind to ask Aron if he had dinner. He surely didn’t want to serve as a replacement. “Seeing you there,” Aron pulled him closer, and tongued him deep again, making him feel weak to the knees. “Hearing you say it like that,” he added, as soon as he cut Carter a small breather. “Just made me want to fuck you,” Aron pressed him against the door, catching his hands in a deft grip and pulling them up. Carter arched his back, his breathing shallow, caught in his chest. Aron was biting his lips, not painfully, but enough to shoot a throng of sensations down his spine, and into his … no, no, this was … Fuck this. He stuck out his tongue. He was no saint. Aron playfully sparred him with his own, and their kiss turned a bit dirty. The good kind of dirty. For who knew how long, they took jabs at each other with their tongues, chasing one another, Aron, the fucker, at an advantage as he kept Carter pinned against the door, with his arms up, and using his strong thighs to push against the other, and making their bodies rub like in an languorous, yet rough dance. This was going nowhere. They had too many clothes. It wasn’t enough. Carter leaned forward, trying to capture Aron’s mouth. But Aron moved away, with a smug smile on his face. Carter growled in response. “Don’t tell me you’re going to leave me hanging,” he complained. He could not believe his voice. Not his voice technically. This was just making things easier, actually. “Leave you hanging?” Aron smiled. “No way. I just want to take this to the bedroom.” The bedroom. Where the real sex stuff happened. Carter turned stiff, and not the good kind of stiff. He still had no idea if Alex’s body was clean. Also, he wasn’t ready for all the sex stuff. “No butt fucking,” he blurted out. Aron’s eyes squared on him like attack helicopters. They were probably shooting lasers, too, but Carter knew that was not possible. “The tests,” he mumbled, and looked away. Aron dropped Carter’s arms, from where they were pinned against the door. They felt heavy and numb as they fell down. Carter winced and moved passed Aron. “I’m just going to take a shower,” he added, and quickly made himself scarce in that direction. Shit, things were really getting out of hand here. *** The warm water on his back was doing nothing for his nerves, though. Carter could not believe he was such a mess. He wasn’t even questioning himself or his sexuality. All people were bisexual, to some degree, or so he had read somewhere, probably some shitty magazines that could not really be considered reliable sources of knowledge in the field of human sexuality. Why had he responded so well to Aron’s kisses? Well, it had happened before, from the first moment Aron had kissed him, and Carter still thought himself straight as an arrow. Of course, he could always play the card of having to impersonate Alex, with all that entailed. Including the gay sex. Gay sex with Aron. The thought was enough to short circuit his brain. He was a damn fucking monkey, a primate, an un-evolved piece of meat in the animal reign. And all because of a damn kiss. Aron was too good a kisser. Yes, blame it on that, Carter, he thought and shook his head. Never before had he felt attracted to a dude. And it had to be Aron, of all people. Not the guy who was bringing him the newspaper, because he thought he was a good neighbor. Was that guy doable? From a gay guy’s point of view. He had no idea. But the image of being entangled in a dirty kiss with his newspaper-bringing neighbor, had no effect on him. What about the guys he used to hang out with? Nope, no matter how much he tried to picture himself in some kind of amorous situation with any of them, he came up empty. There was only one explanation, if he was honest. He was sort of, gay for Aron. Damn, what a fucked up thing. Maybe it was just something he needed to fuck out of his system. But no, it was wrong. Aron had no idea. And he still didn’t know if Alex was clean, the two timer, mother fucking cheater. Wait, what was he doing? Again considering the possibility of butt sex? One or two more adventurous girlfriends had fingered him, and, at the time, he had thought that kinky and fun, but … All right, he just needed to calm down and take things one step at a time. He was spending all this time in a gay dude’s body and that was probably the reason. Stop fooling yourself, Carter. But I’m not gay! Well, tell that to yourself from 10 minutes ago, while you were stuffing Aron’s mouth with your tongue. He could not spend the entire night in the bathroom, pretending to take a long shower. It was time to take the bull by the horns. The gay husband by the dick. Or whatever. *** All hope that Aron might already be asleep was soon gone as he took in the man’s grave stance, as Aron lay on the bed, pretending to watch television. Carter had decided to use only a small towel to hide his nether parts, but he knew that such a semblance of modesty was not going to hold water. With a small sigh, he let the towel drop to the floor, and climbed into the bed. Aron was watching him from a corner of his eye. All right, so he was naked, and almost on top of his husband. What was going to be next? He cleared his throat and hummed, like he was about to break into a serenade. Aron huffed and turned his eyes to the TV screen. Now it was the right moment to know what he was doing. The bad part was that his mind was blank. “Are you going to sit there, with your ass up, all night?” Aron asked, without turning his head. “No,” Carter said slowly. “I’m gonna … I’m … hmm, ahem …” “Jeesh, Alex,” Aron exhaled. “Look, it’s okay. I got carried away. Seeing you on that TV show reminded me of everything I love about you. But if you’re not ready, I understand.” With that, Aron changed his position, and extracted himself from the not so clever trap Carter had thought he was making with his own body. He looked at Aron, as the guy moved. The silk pajama pants were hanging obscenely low on the guy’s hips. Carter could clearly make the nice curve of Aron’s ass through the sleek fabric. He licked his lips and gulped. His throat was dry. This was happening way too often while he was around Aron. “What are you doing?” he asked. “I think I’m the one who should sleep on the sofa,” Aron replied, his back still turned, as he began fishing for a t-shirt in a drawer. “I cannot control myself around you,” he added, with a self-deprecating sigh. “And you do need your beauty sleep. Yolanda called, and threatened me with something that pretty much sounded like a thoroughly planned bashing, if I didn’t know her better.” As the door closed, Carter lay flat on the bed, hiding his face in the crumpled sheets, still smelling of Aron. He groaned. Why was he such an idiot? In all his past relationships, he hadn’t been this wishy-washy. He was not the one to make the first step, okay, but he hadn’t tormented any of his girlfriends, by sending mixed signals. Or maybe he had? Maybe he should contact the girls, and make a focus group, or something? Focus, Carter. This is serious. He got off the bed, and went out the door. Aron was in his own house, and he was not going to sleep on the sofa. *** It was funny to see Aron struggling to fit on the sofa, seeing that he was bigger than Alex, and Carter still remembered the night before with all its struggles. “What are you doing up? Go to sleep,” Aron ordered, and pushed himself on one side, only to have one leg drop to the floor with a thud. “You’re not the only one who cannot control himself,” Carter spoke in a sparse voice. Well, it was true. Seeing how he was gay for Aron, and not for anyone else, his brain had been obviously hacked. Aka, no control. Aron’s head peaked above the sofa. The man was staring at him. “Go on,” Aron said slowly. “All I could think of today,” Carter spoke with some difficulty, “was to just come home to you and …” damn, he was going to say it to the guy’s face, wasn’t he? “stuff my mouth with your dick.” Aron groaned, and pushed the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Alex, stop doing this to me. I’m just a man! Are you willing to have me sent to jail for marital rape? Because I don’t know …” Carter moved fast, jumping over the sofa, and kneeling in front of his best friend. For whom he was gay or something. He gulped, but his hands were firm as they grabbed the hem of the silk pajama pants. He licked his lips. Aron was now silent, too. He was obviously stretched to his limit, by the way his taut belly was rising with each small breath. Carter pulled the pants down, in one swift move. Well, when Aron wasn’t hard, that thing was not that impressive. Hell, who was he kidding? And that thing was now slowly growing, without even being touched. “Don’t be cruel,” Aron whispered. “Uhm?” Carter mumbled, fascinated with the way Aron’s cock was slowly growing longer and harder, until it sat flush against the man’s muscled abdomen. He placed one palm along the shaft, taking pleasure in the silky sensation of stretched skin. He slowly grabbed it, wondering at how the mushroom was pulsing slightly. Half closing his eyes, he brought it to his lips and licked. Aron’s small groan made him frown. Was he doing it wrong? He licked away, only to have Aron groan again. It was quite clear, that was an appreciation moan. That was encouraging. And the taste wasn’t that bad. There was a pearly bead leaking off the head, and he lapped at it. Ha, no wonder chicks digged this. It was enough to increase one’s appetite. Guided by his new found lust, he engulfed the engorged head into his mouth, licking at it, to his heart’s content. Aron’s murmurs were unintelligible now. Carter released the man’s cock with a loud pop, and stared with satisfaction at the glistening head. Damn, the way the thing was now hard as a rock in his hand, was making him hungry. Could someone be hungry for cock? For real? Well, he was right now. And Aron loved it, by the strained sounds he was making. So, all in all, it was ‘kay. He pushed the hard cock into his mouth, trying to take more in. Damn, who knew this could taste so delicious? It was making him feel regretful he could not self-suck, like the douchebag Alex could. But it was probably for the best. He might just end up doing nothing all day but suck his own cock. Actually, he had an inkling now that it was better to have your mouth filled with another guy’s cock. Aron’s, at least, was fucking tasty. It was a tad frustrating that he could not push it all in his mouth, but he set into a rhythm, bobbing his head up and down, and tasting as much as he could. Flicking his tongue over the head over and over again, he was fueling his lust with Aron’s precum. It was just making him feel excited about what would come later. He caught the base of the cock with one hand to gain more control. If Alex was a blowjob master, Carter had to be one, too. Aron could not be left unsatisfied. But that was not the only thought on his mind right now. He was being selfish. He was doing it because it fucking felt right, and it was the only way for him, Carter, to do such a thing with the guy. He increased the speed, helping himself with the hand. At least, it served that Aron was pent up. He wasn’t going to notice his husband’s lack of skill, provided that Carter was a total noob in this department. Well, it was definitely a skill he was willing to learn, he hollowed his cheeks, to further increase pressure. Aron began massaging his neck with slow, hesitant moves. Carter brought up his free hand to place it over Aron and mimicked the action he wanted. It was like Aron stopped for a brief second, only to grab Carter’s neck firmly now, and push his head down. It was a bit too much, but Carter needed that. His enthusiastic sucking could only take him this far. He needed to put Aron in control, so that the guy could let go. And let go he did, as Carter felt Aron’s cock growing even stiffer, if that was possible. The guy’s groans were growing louder, too. Soon enough, Carter’s mouth was flooded, and he tried to stay still and swallow. For long seconds, Aron kept him there, feeding him with cum. Which, apparently, was not as unpleasant as he thought since it was coming from another guy’s supply. He did make a face, however, as he extracted himself slowly from Aron’s grip. The man he had just satisfied with his mouth was breathing deeply and loudly, and there was a sense of pride in that, because, hell, Carter had been the one to make Aron come undone like that. And that made him look up pretty smug about it, as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He was about to say something, just to know they were okay now, when Aron leaned in to watch him in the eyes, from just a couple of inches away. It was too late to protest when he realized what Aron was up to. The guy had grabbed his shoulders with one hand, sneaking the other between Carter’s legs, palm firmly planted on the ass, and now was manhandling him like he was a toy, standing up, and then slamming Carter with his back against the sofa. He grunted, not from pain, as there was none, but from surprise. “Aron,” he breathed out. Sounds died in his throat as Aron pressed his lips against Carter’s neck, biting him a second later, like a jaguar bent on its prey. “Ah,” he managed, all rational thought gone from his mind. Aron moved lower, biting Carter’s chest, planting small kisses on his way down. Carter could feel each breath hitching in his chest, anticipating the pain of each bite, and feeling all the more surprised with the immediate response of his body, and what was left of his nervous system. It was just the kind of conquest he knew he could not resist. Was he spreading his legs? Was this some sort of conditioned response that nobody cared to talk about in the books? It didn’t take Aron much to reach his actual point of interest. “Mother fucker,” Carter moaned, as Aron simply took him in his mouth. Man, the guy was taking that thing deep. Carter felt a pang of jealousy as he felt Aron’s warm breath on his pelvis. Well, Alex didn’t have that big a dick, what could he say? Carter was certain he was bigger, so that had to be for now. “What the fuck,” he murmured and straightened up a bit to watch what was going on. Aron was somehow stuffing his mouth with Carter’s balls, without letting go of the dick. That was not fucking fair. Aron withdrew to breathe, and Carter shot him a miffed look. The guy winked at him and his lips stretched into a huge smile. Aron pulled him by the legs, and pressed them up, until Carter could swear they were behind his ears. “What are you doing?” he struggled, trying to see in what ways Aron was planning to defile him. A tongue. In his ass. He made such a funny sound, that he was certain he could no longer be considered a man. “Oh god,” he managed. “Thank you, baby,” Aron stopped for a second, only to lap again at Carter’s exposed back side, like it was some sort of … whatever thing was good licked, because Carter could not really think of anything right now. He could feel Aron’s tongue probing him, and that was making all the hair on his head feel electrified. Was this normal? Was it a gay sex thing? He had no idea the ass could feel like that. “I think you’re plenty lubed,” Aron joked. What? Was the guy going to fuck him? Now? He had no time to even think of fighting back, as two fingers delved into his back entrance, down to the first knuckle. “Oh, fuck,” he complained. It wasn’t hurting. It was just the fucking shock. Carter was pretty certain he was going to develop post traumatic stress disorder symptoms after this. He could totally understand how a guy navigating a minefield in World War I must have felt. He could not recover from one blow, as there was another lined up just for him. Aron let him straightened up a bit and let down his legs, without removing his fingers from Carter’s ass. He kissed him shortly, and then sank to his knees, like Carter had done earlier. He was not going to fight this. It was impossible. He closed his eyes, as Aron put his mouth back where it fit so well. He moaned softly, as Aron began working his cock like a blowjob expert. At the same time, the fingers in his ass began moving, just a little, at first, then deeper and deeper, as Carter felt his ass giving in. Each jab of the fingers in his ass was making his cock twitch. He was certain he was leaking precum like a fountain, but Aron showed no signs of being bothered. The guy was doing a fine job, he clearly knew how to do it, and it wasn’t helping Carter’s sanity one bit. Carter was certain his body was hot like a furnace and was currently melting the sofa. Soon enough, his ass was going to hit the floor. Only that his body was having other plans, pushing itself upwards, fucking Aron in his mouth, his cock sucking, tongue kissing mouth, and it felt so damn good that Carter was certain his eyes were going to pop out of his head. Aron didn’t need to help himself with his free hand to get Carter as close as the most explosive climax in his life, as he could ever be. The way he sucked was making Carter think that the guy could suck the life out of him, and he was still not going to care. “Fuck, I’m going to …” Words were lost on him, as his head hit the sofa, and Aron’s fingers remained lodged deep inside him, keeping him there, and making him feel like he was cumming for ages. He was going blind. Or he could not open his eyes. Or both. He was utterly destroyed and he probably now had the IQ of an insect. “Hey,” Aron called softly after he let go of Carter’s ass. He could smell jizz on the guy’s breath and it wasn’t bothering him. If anything, it just made him feel a small jolt coursing his body. Aron kissed him tenderly, and he just opened his mouth. They could practically taste each other now. “Let me take you to the bedroom,” Aron cooed in his ear, as he broke their kiss. It was a good thing Aron was this strong. He could hold Carter in his arms, like he was a child. On cue, Carter wrapped his legs around Aron’s strong body and let his head rest on a strong shoulder. “I got you, baby,” Aron spoke softly, holding Carter’s ass with one arm, and using the other hand to caress a sweaty back. *** The bed was so nice and cozy. Carter wanted nothing but to bury himself deep into the mattress and live there for all eternity. Aron placed the blanket gently over him. “Do you want me to bring you a t-shirt? So you don’t get cold,” Aron asked, in an equally gentle tone. “Just wrap me with your body,” he whispered. Well, that sounded corny, but he was too tired to care about filtering everything that crossed his mind, what with the permanent ruckus in his brain. “Sure thing, baby,” Aron caressed Carter’s ear with his lips. You’re so going to hell, Carter Malis, he barely managed a jab at himself, as Aron pulled him into his arms and draped one leg over him. TBC
  3. Laura S. Fox

    What Was Seen Cannot Be Unseen

    Chapter Eleven – What Was Seen Cannot Be Unseen Carter was chewing the nail on his index finger like a Duracell bunny at a carrot tasting. The initial shock was gone, but he still held Simon’s phone in his hand, not wanting to let go. But it was not like those offending pictures were going to disappear by magic. There, on the shiny screen, Alex Ruskin was locked in a heated embrace with the guy currently sitting across from him, in the poshest cafe Carter had ever set foot in. And that was not all. If anything, it was just the tip of the iceberg. What lay under water was much, much worse. Apparently, the two clandestine lovers had had no qualms with taking pictures in all sorts of compromising positions. Carter was certain that he had seen enough dick and man on man sex to last him for a century. And Simon, the dickhead, was right; in all the x-rated pictures, Alex was the one with the other’s cock in him. Now that was plenty of grounds for divorce, right there. Eventually, he unglued his eyes from the man’s phone and handed it back to him. There was no point in trying to erase them and then blame it all on a slip of the hand. Simon surely had copies lying around, on his computer and whatnot. He could not be that stupid. “So?” Simon looked at him with a small, knowing smile. Some people. They just liked asking for a punch in the face. Alex Ruskin was a damn cheater and a two-timer, and Carter had to deal with it. Should Aron learn about it? It was painful, but necessary. But he was not going to find it out from Carter. Not like this. And there was maybe still time to save Aron’s marriage. Regardless of what he thought of guys marrying other guys and whatnot. This was not about him and what he wanted to believe of Aron. There was a marriage at stake and he needed to do everything in his power to save it. After he and Alex were going to swap back, it was completely up to Alex to decide. And Aron was going to find out. Eventually. There was no way in hell to tell what kind of thing was going to set that off, but it was going to happen. Right now, though, Carter was in a terrible conundrum. What was he going to do? Tell Simon off? He wasn’t putting it past that guy to blackmail him, to keep quiet. There was no way he was going to sleep with Simon, to maintain the worldly order in Alex’s life, either. So he just needed to grab the bull by the horns. “What do you want?” he asked, frowning and playing with his thumbs, for lack of anything better to do, until he decided to just let his hands flat on the table. Simon looked at him with a mix of confusion and angst. Carter shook his head. The idiot was a real charmer, with those dark caramel eyes. He preferred darker, black eyes. Like Aron’s. “Do you really need to ask?” the man asked, and the pain in his voice was real. “I want us to be together. As you promised. You said that you were going to leave Aron, walk away from him, and be with me.” Simon made a move to capture one of his hands, but Carter was quick enough to pull both of them away and hide them under the table. His eyed remained on Simon’s hand, still half open, until the man flexed his fingers, curling them in, and withdrew. “Look, if you want to blackmail me, just tell what will take for you to keep quiet,” Carter spoke, looking at Simon. “Blackmail you? I have no intention to do that!” Simon protested. Ugh, now that was a relief. “But I don’t intend to leave you alone, even if that’s what you’re asking. I don’t care that you say that you don’t remember! I don’t know what game you think you’re playing, and, if this is your idea of testing me, don’t worry, I won’t quit!” Carter frowned and took a look around. Simon’s heated speech was starting to draw attention. “Calm down,” he hissed at the other, and then smiled affably to a woman wearing cateye sunglasses who was already stealing glances their way. Simon seemed to have a bit of difficulty to rein in his emotions, but, eventually, he chose to shut his mouth. His dark complexion made him look even more upset, with the frown and the pursed lips and everything. He was making Carter think of a character from some Gothic tale. Simon did look like he was ready to turn to the dark side. “What are you going to do, Alex?” Simon asked, straightening up in his chair and looking straight at Carter. Yeah. What the fuck was he going to do? He had never two-timed in his life, and he was not going to start now. It wasn’t only for Aron’s sake. He had his own dignity to think about. “I’ll have to think about it,” he said, a bit too brightly, while trying to force out a smile. Ugh, to think that he already knew how this guy looked naked. He had nothing against naked bodies, per se, but, right now, he felt like he was sitting across from a porn star or something. Simon did have a nice body. “Is this all you have to say? Do you mean that none of this sparks any memory of us?” Simon pointed at the phone lying on the table. “Nope, nada, zilch,” Carter shrugged. The problem was that he might not be able to forget what he had just seen. Now that was the kind of thing people used to say about that what was seen could not be unseen. “I cannot believe it,” Simon murmured and leaned back in his chair, shoulders slumped in defeat. “I …” The way the guy pressed his fist against his mouth was a bit too theatrical, and he was playing the hurt lover card too much, but Carter had to say that he kind of felt Simon’s pain. Kind of. Alex was still a cheater, and Simon was no better. “What the fuck are you doing with a married man?” he blurted out, as usual, without thinking much. Simon’s eyes narrowed. “Really, Alex? You seduced me,” the man accused. “Did you really expect me to resist you? Who could resist you? Tell me, please. Tell me that this is not a game.” “It’s not a game,” Carter shot back quickly. The situation was getting more and more uncomfortable. Alex was a damn fucking douchebag. Carter had been right all along. He could, after all, get Alex divorced from Aron, while the body swap continued. But no, that was not an alternative to consider. Aron loved Alex, and maybe their damn marriage could be salvaged, somehow. He had no idea how, but whatever. He was not going to break Aron’s home, even if his husband was a fucking cheater. Hmm, maybe after they swapped back bodies, he and Alex, he could just send Aron an anonymous message to let him know of his husband’s straying habits. Nah, too cheap, too sleazy. No, he was just going to maintain the status quo until Alex was back into his body, and ready to sort out the mess his life was. Until then, Carter was just going to be neutral. Switzerland level of neutral. “Why are you nodding?” Simon asked him. Great, he had been caught up in his mental verbalization so much that he had no idea he was making faces. “I’m going to be neutral,” he claimed right away. “Neutral?” Simon questioned, making a confused face. “Like Switzerland,” Carter said with determination. “I have no idea what you are talking about,” Simon sighed. “Look, man, I’m amnesic, all right? Until I remember everything, let’s just be … err, co-workers?” “You couldn’t even bring yourself to say that we should be friends,” Simon huffed. “Don’t worry. I know what this is all about.” “You do?” Carter could feel his eyebrows arching at a perfect angle. All that manscaping could not go to waste, obviously. “It is about how you think that I don’t deserve you. You seduced me, and I was too easy for you.” “Whatever,” Carter shrugged. Were all relationships this complicated? Or only the gay ones? He was the most agreeable boyfriend, as far as he could remember. One girl had even told him once that he was really easy to break up with. That was him; the most accommodating ex in the history of relationships. “I know what I will do,” it was Simon’s turn to show his determination. “I will win you back. I will be the one to seduce you,” he pointed at Carter. Damn, this guy was an idiot. Not an agreeable ex, that was for sure. Although agreeable, as far as his physical appearance went, that he was. “There’s no need for that,” he replied. “Oh, yes, there is. There is plenty of need for that,” Simon smiled, his dark face finally lit up with a smile. The guy was smitten. A smitten idiot. “Look, Simon, take a breather. Don’t annoy me,” Carter spoke. “Have I not been passionate enough?” Simon questioned. “I’ll strangle you,” Carter said quickly. “If you don’t stop, I’ll run you over. With a car. I’ll find one,” he said with conviction. “I don’t mind getting run over by you,” Simon grinned. “You look really sexy behind the wheel of that car of yours.” “Wait? I have a car?” Simon looked at him like he was a lunatic. “The Spyder? Do you not even remember that?” “Spyder? Like in a Porsche Spyder?” Carter was certain his brain was slowly coming to a halt. “I wondered why you didn’t come to work in it. But I assumed it was because of the accident.” “I drive a car. That kind of car,” Carter said only to confirm it to himself. “Yeah. You used to say that whenever you feel hungry, you only need to think of that car, and it’s the best diet tip ever,” Simon smiled at him. Carter shook his head. “Let me take you someplace nice tonight. Out of the city. Somewhere private. Where people won’t talk. Come up with something so that Aron won’t suspect a thing.” Carter groaned and let his head hit on the table, making the little teaspoon tremble against the porcelain saucer. “Simon,” he spoke from there, “stop being a fucking idiot. Tonight, I’m going home, and I’m fucking my husband. And you should better stay away.” “Or else?” Simon asked, a bit aggressively. “Or I’ll think of some terrible way to make you regret it.” “I see. You’re playing hard to get. I can deal with it. But, as I said, I won’t give up.” “Whatever,” Carter murmured. Yeah, now he was certain. Being gay was complicated. Being gay and a two-timer even worse. But this had nothing to do with being gay. It had all to do with Alex being a fucking asshole. *** He had endured Simon squeezing his knee shortly before getting out of the guy’s car. This was going to get tough. The langurous looks Simon had thrown at him all the way back to work had given him the willies. What the fuck was he going to do? Damn Alex and his idiotic two-timing habits. Just thinking of Aron was making his heart clench. He went through the day, being pretty much a wallflower, but Yolanda had managed just fine as he stood there, looking pretty. At the end of the work day, he felt emotionally exhausted, if that was a thing. He had no idea how he was going to fend off Simon’s amorous assault, and he had a gay husband at home who was not going to be denied conjugal rights forever. Talking about being between a rock and a hard place. More like being between a hard cock and another hard cock, if the pictures he had seen of Simon and Alex earlier were any proof of the guy’s sexual prowess. As for Aron’s cock ... yeah, that was, ugh, pretty much a challenge, too. The only silver lining in all this was that he was going to drive a fucking Porsche Spyder. Yeah, he deserved that after everything he had to put with for the entire day. He needed that beautiful car, if only for a single ride. How come the fucking douchebag could earn that kind of money? In retrospect, having his asshole waxed and stripped bare along with his dignity was maybe worth it. Yeah, from a douchebag’s point of view. Just thinking about it made him want to grind his teeth. At least, he was going to get home and relax. He could barely wait. “I’m off,” he told Mark, as he grabbed his phone and headed for the door. “Boss, did you forget about the interview? The New Entertainment show?” “Show? Isn’t it a newspaper or something?” he asked, intrigued. “A media company,” Mark promptly spelled it for him. “You’re going to be on TV tonight, boss.” “Stop basking in my misery,” he moaned. “When is this interview scheduled?” “You have to be there at 6pm, and it starts at 6.30,” Mark supplied the information. “They need to prepare you,” he added. “What? Do they let me know the questions in advance?” Carter asked. “No, they prepare you with the makeup and everything,” Mark explained. “Don’t worry, boss, I’ll be there with you.” “I’m not worried,” Carter protested. Shit, he was worried. If he felt the need to practically hide behind his 22-year old assistant, there was something wrong with his head. And that was the only solid truth in this. “Shouldn’t your work day be over?” he added, a bit irritated. Mark showed no signs that he was fazed by his boss’s behavior. “My work day ends when your work day ends.” Carter shook his head. “Keep it like this and you’ll get a promotion, Mark. What’s better than being my assistant?” Mark giggled. “I just want to focus on being your assistant for now, boss.” “Cool,” Carter commented dryly, but he was thankful for Mark’s presence. At least, he was not going to face that idiotic interview, completely alone. *** He could deal with this. If he repeated that mantra enough times in his head, he was going to go through this unscathed. There was so much ruckus around him, so many people wanting to talk to him, that he felt a bit nauseous. He wasn’t exactly a big fan of crowds and a reason why he preferred to telecommute as a freelancer instead of working in a cubicle, stucked with dozens of similar cubicles, slaving for the man from dawn till dusk. If he was to think about it, working a cubicle job was probably just as lonely, but he hated corporations, on principle. At least, while working as a hired mercenary, he could pretend he was not part of the problem. Now the problem was that he had to face a different kind of animals, as he looked around. Everyone at the studio seemed pretty excited about having him over, but he was not going to let himself fooled by the fake smiles. If this were a horror movie, the straight fake teeth would soon turn sharp, the manicured fingers into talons, looking to dig into his flesh. Just like a proverbial sacrificial lamb, that was what he was. Mark, bless his soul, was trying to stave off the unnecessary attention, by keeping back the throngs of assistants, makeup artists, or whatever those were called, and other people whose probably only job was to gawk at guys like Alex Ruskin, like he was their last meal. Eventually, the man in charge, aka the host and producer of the show, came to see him. “Alex,” the man called, stretching both his hands, probably waiting for him to take them and shake them. That was a pretty awkward thing to do, but he attempted to grab the man by both his hands. For a few awkward seconds, the man shook them, while looking at Carter as if he was his next of kin. That was enough for him to examine the host. A man in his late 40s, with a bit of a receding line, still green, but getting ripe, with a smile so huge that it went from ear to ear, Michael Cathaway - as Carter had learned his name was - clearly knew what show business was all about. He had that artificial socially accepted warmth about him, that made Carter believe that TV host was the first human job that could be successfully replaced by robots. “So, are we ready to begin?” Michael began looking around, while still holding one of Carter’s hand. The man’s skin felt like dry sandpaper; maybe the guy was a misophobe and used way too much hand sterilizer. Carter was not going to hold it against him. He was here for half an hour, and felt like he needed a shower after being touched by so many strangers who cared not a iota about personal space. It was worse than a wedding cortege that followed them, as they finally took their places in front of the bright lights and cameras. Carter could not believe how much warmer it felt. Maybe that was why they were always talking about life under the hot lights. He was so amazed with everything, the way he could practically break the forth wall, by looking straight at the audience behind the cameras, neatly arranged on multiple colored chairs, that he missed the introduction given by the host. Michael had to repeat the question to pull him out of his musings. “It was such a terrible accident, Alex,” the host spoke in a soft, yet thunderous voice. “Why do you think you escaped with almost no injury?” “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Maybe some of us have a guardian angel or something.” His eyes traveled to Mark, like they were pulled towards his assistant, for no apparent reason. The young man was shadowed by the cameramen moving about, but there was something in the way he was demurely keeping his hands together that Carter thought odd. “An interesting concept, that of a guardian angel,” Michael piped in, for lack of anything better to say. “Well, yeah, I mean, there’s gotta be an explanation for stuff like this,” Carter tore away his eyes from his assistant. “Or maybe you’re just a lucky fellow,” Michael laughed. “And we’re so lucky to have you here,” he turned towards the audience that started applauding on cue. Was this so called interview going anywhere? Carter suddenly remembered Yolanda’s training. “And do you know another reason why we’re all lucky?” he managed to start speaking. “We have a new organic line of products that I’m so excited about.” Luckily for him, Michael took the bait, so, for five minutes straight, he yapped his mouth about the company’s new client. Apparently, Michael seemed to be quite knowlegeable in that area, finishing Carter’s sentences, and making the interview one of the most agreeable experiences he could have hoped for. Until Michael decided to simply change the subject. “Alex, you’ve been known as the poster boy for marriage bliss,” Michael said. There was a change in tone right there, and Carter’s inner danger alarm went in high alert right away. Oh, so the gloves were off, apparently. Michael was looking at him with a bit of malice in his dark eyes. He laughed, feigning embarrassment and looked down. “Aron is an amazing guy,” he said. “Two years of marriage,” Michael pressed his index finger against his lips, his elbows on the desk. “How do you manage that?” “Come on, man, it’s not like that’s much,” Carter snorted. “Ask me again when we’re celebrating our 50th anniversary.” The audience laughed agreeably, and this time it wasn’t on cue. “That’s pretty ambitious,” Michael smiled, but the smile wasn’t reaching his eyes. “Totally doable,” Carter said with confidence. He had no idea how he could be such a good liar. But he was speaking the truth, sort of. He only had to focus on what Aron meant for him. For him, not for Alex. And he was pretty damn certain that he was going to feel the same way about Aron 50 years from now. Even if Aron was not going to speak to him at all for all these 50 years. So, all in all, it was easy. “Then what do you feel about the latest rumors?” “Rumors?” his eyes searched for his assistant, as if the guy could help him. “Some would say that there is trouble in paradise,” a cunning smile was now lighting up the host’s face. “Could we please have the pictures up?” he turned towards his team. The decor behind him changed. He did not dare to turn. What kind of fucked up things had Alex been caught doing? “Alex,” Michael called for him, in a paternal voice. “Could you please turn and take a look?” All right, whatever it was, he could deal with it. Unless it was one of those pictures on Simon’s phone with Alex chocked full with dick. Eh, he was just going to claim that the pictures were photoshopped. Well, it wasn’t that bad. Just a succession of pictures showing Alex and Aron in what looked like a heated argument, taking place in front of a posh restaurant. “Can you please tell us what that was all about?” Michael woke him up from his reverie. The audience was watching him all wide eyed and bated breath. He chose to play it cool. “Couples fight. Sometimes. It just makes the makeup sex all that much better,” he added with a small, knowing smile, looking straight at the audience, like he wanted to hear a confirmation from the guys and gals gathered there that evening. A confirmation that immediately followed, in the form of a few genuine laughs and agreeing murmurs. Michael Cathaway, however, was not that easy to sway. “What were you two fighting about here, anyway?” the host insisted. Carter turned his attention on the interviewer. Now that was the boss level. All right, he could do it. “Your paparazzi didn’t manage to get audio, too?” he smiled, but this time he was the one to watch the other with cold eyes. The host had the nerve to look affronted. “Hey, it’s a legit business. And you two were in a public space,” Michael pointed out. “Of course, you may choose not to tell us about it,” he added, faking courtesy. “No, that’s okay,” Carter grinned. “It was about the dishes. Aron never washes the dishes,” he made a gesture like he was really fed up with the situation. “And he’s really obnoxious about it! You wouldn’t believe it! Sometimes, I think he deserves a night on the couch for that reason only. Amirite, ladies?” he flashed a smile towards the audience. The women in the stands had no qualms to agree with him, quite noisily. “You two were just walking out of a restaurant,” Michael insisted. “How did washing the dishes come into your conversation?” “Aron just commented that it was such a good thing that he didn’t have to do the dishes, and that really pissed me off. Really, it’s not like it’s always his turn,” Carter added with determination. “We have a few other pictures to show you, Alex,” Michael proved right away that he was not going to give up so easily. Hmm, what could follow? Okay, this was a bit worse. In the next set of pictures, Alex was climbing in Simon’s car. Still, there was nothing compromising about them. So he shrugged. “That’s a co-worker’s car,” he pointed out, without dropping his smile one inch. His jaw was starting to hurt a little. “Are you always this afectionate with your co-workers?” Michael’s face lit up with a shark like smile. Eh, truth be told, in the next picture that rolled on the screen, Alex was embracing Simon. “I was teaching Simon how to hug. That guy, he has no idea what he’s missing in life. He just has this no hugs policy,” he explained promptly. He just hoped the next picture was not going to show Alex French kissing Simon. He still had that Photoshop theory up his sleeve. Luckily, that was all the host had on him. “No hugs policy,” Michael spelled the words like they were some kind of dead foreign language. “Yeah, some people are weird like that,” Carter added quickly. “And I won’t have a non hugger around me. There, here you have it. One of my strongest pet peeves. I can’t stand non huggers. They’re the worst.” It was clear as day that Michael still wanted to press the matter further, as the screen behind them returned to the show’s intro. Apparently, someone was telling the guy something in his earbud, by the way he was frowning. “So you would say that your marriage is completely fine?” the host returned to his artificial warm smile from the beginning of the show. It was like the guy was turning back to factory settings. It was fun to watch. “Fine? No, it’s fantastic!” he grinned. Ugh, close call, but he had managed it. “I love Aron,” he said simply. “He’s the perfect guy for me. I am the happiest man in the universe to have him.” The artificial smile froze on the host’s lips, while the audience broke into an endearing awww. “And this was our show for today. There you have him, ladies and gents! Alex Ruskin!” What? Was it over? The audience’s applauses were making him a tad dizzy, as he stood up and shook hands with the host. *** Aron opened the door as he fiddled with his key. For a couple of seconds, they looked at each other, Aron more of a shadow in the door. Carter could make out the silhouette, a man with his arms crossed over his chest. Dressed in some tight fitting t-shirt, that even in the semi-dark, showed Aron’s strong shoulders, big chest and arms. “So I don’t do the dishes?” Aron asked, his voice a bit strained. Ah, damn, Carter thought. His mind was struggling for a solution, but now his neurons just decided to play dumb. Or dead. Luckily enough, Aron decided to save him from his predicament by moving quickly and pulling him into a hug. “I love you, too, Alex,” Aron whispered in his ear. His neurons twitched, but decided to just continue their newfound routine of liking this. There was no comeback to that. TBC
  4. Laura S. Fox

    Let’s Make A Salad

    Oh, I think you'll guess why Alex's behavior is not that much of a bother for those around even before I get to the explanation. And, yes, Carter did get to experience first-hand what being a model is like :)) Thank you for stopping by and commenting!
  5. Laura S. Fox

    Let’s Make A Salad

    Ha, ha, it appears that Carter's mind is getting kinkier and kinkier ... He could not have thought about Better Homes and Gardens. Don't be too concerned about Simon, nor about the ballet lessons. I have it all in the bag, I swear! Thank you for your consistence and of course, another fun to read comment!
  6. Laura S. Fox

    Let’s Make A Salad

    Ha, ha, I remember when a friend explained to me what 'tossing the salad' means in English, and I think I almost fell from the chair reading the explanation. But now, damn, occasion lost for a naughty pun!
  7. Laura S. Fox

    Let’s Make A Salad

    Oh, yes, that is so very true. Alex has his baggage, quite a lot of it, as you will see when the story gets there. And who truly is Alex? That is a tough, tough question (and now I'm being a bit more mysterious than I should be, he, he). Worried about little Simon? He'll have his role in the story. Good or bad, I'll let you be the judge. Let's just say that he will also be an obstacle in the gauntlet challenge Carter is, kind of, volunteering for. Thanks a lot for another lovely comment! Love, Rumpelstiltskin.
  8. Laura S. Fox

    Let’s Make A Salad

    Thanks a lot! I hope you will continue to enjoy!
  9. Laura S. Fox

    Let’s Make A Salad

    Ah, this is such a sweet comment. Carter does take many things to heart, no matter how much he would like to think otherwise. As for learning to love Aron? Totally rooting for it, he, he. (Rather strange coming from the author, isn't it?)
  10. Laura S. Fox

    Nut, Nuts, Nutter

    Don't put that behind Yolanda! And I'm glad you found that hot
  11. Laura S. Fox

    Let’s Make A Salad

    He, he, then maybe you're a little less curious now? I must say, that paragraph was the result of some, ahem, intensive research!
  12. Laura S. Fox

    Let’s Make A Salad

    Chapter Ten – Let’s Make A Salad All right, at least he had managed to make the leather chair look decent after the online BDSM groups had supplied him with useful information on how to clean cum off leather. The best part was that he hadn’t needed to call Mark to the rescue, and a tissue and some rubbing alcohol that he had luckily found in the small vanity cabinet available in his office, had done the trick. He dropped his head on his arms, as he knelt before the chair that had so silently accepted his semen tribute earlier, and allowed himself a long sigh. How was he going to face Aron? Why was this happening? Only because he was in Alex’s body? That was the quickest, easiest explanation. The only silver lining in that kind of explanation was that Alex still loved his husband. That was good. Maybe Alex wasn’t that bent on cheating. Maybe he was just used to the attention. Maybe the guy was flirtatious by nature, and that made people think they were entitled to ask him about blowjobs and whatnot. For Aron’s sake, he hoped that was true. And that was getting him off the hook. Only the thought of having done what he had just done with Aron should have made him feel sick to the stomach, like the homophobe he was. But the truth was that he didn’t feel sick. He didn’t feel anything. Actually, if he was to be honest, that wasn’t exactly true. He felt like his bones were made for something mushy and loose, and it was like he wanted to doze off. There was something delicious, pouring smoothly like dark honey, right into his bloodstream. And all he wanted was to close his eyes and ... Dream of Aron. All right, he shook himself off and got to his feet. There was simply no point in indulging in that kind of thing. Aron was his best friend. Carter was straight. Tomato is a fruit. Oranges are sweet. Let’s make a salad. Good. He was back in charge of his own thoughts. No point in them wandering off to greener pastures. Those were beyond the horizon line, therefore uncharted territory. Luckily, his shepherd dogs were in top shape, and now all the silly sheep were back to the herd. The steady knock on his door woke him up from his reverie. Good thing Mark hadn’t bothered him while he was still engaged in that hot session with Aron. He had a hunch Mark wouldn’t have judged him, but he was glad he had been spared the embarassment. Well, not exactly, he realized when he opened his mouth to urge the secretary to come in. He needed to unlock the door. What if Mark was going to ask him why the door had been locked? What was he going to say? The knock repeated, this time a bit more energetically. Oh, damn, he needed to face the situation as it was. He walked quickly to the door and opened it. Mark smiled at him, in that professional way of his, but still full of warmth. “Simon from Marketing wants to see you, boss,” Mark spoke softly. “Why didn’t you use the phone?” he asked, out of curiosity. He had noticed the landline phone among the first things on his desk, and now he was looking at its sibling, installed comfortably on Mark’s desk. “I heard you locking the door earlier,” Mark said, his eyes wide open and innocent. “I just wanted to gain you some more time by just walking to your door and knocking.” Gain some more time for me, Carter mused. Now he looked over Mark’s desk through the glass doors. Mark didn’t have the same luxury of privacy as he had. The secretary was practically working in a fish bowl. He squinted as he examined the guy waiting in the hallway. How nice of Mark to keep the guest waiting there, Carter thought somewhat cheerfully. He recognized the swept back hair, the smart suit, and the attitude. The guy was seemingly examining some impressionist painting clone on the opposite wall, and he was standing with his back to Carter and Mark. By his position, he was crossing his arms over his chest in what probably looked like a disapproving gesture. “All right, you can see him in,” he sighed. He turned to walk back into his office, but stopped dead in his tracks. He was pretty sure the room must have smelt of sex right now, even if he had just jerked off. “Mark, do you happen to have …” he turned towards his secretary. Not that was professionalism right there. Mark placed the air freshener spray can in his hand and went back to his desk like that was completely natural and no explanations were needed. “Thanks,” he murmured. “Just send Simon in, in one minute or so.” *** Maybe it was his imagination, but Simon looked at him like he was suspecting something. The guy was handsome, model beautiful, but Carter still could not shake off the sensation that there was something artificial about the guy. Like he was trying too hard. “Have you gone under the knife?” he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. Simon dared to look affronted. “What gave you that idea? What did you hear?” the guest asked, obviously distressed. “What gave me that idea?” Carter snorted. “Your perfect nose. That thing cannot exist in real life.” Simon brushed his nose with one hand, and shifted in his chair. As Carter began to smile, he straightened up, removing his hand from his face and pretending to clean some invisible lint off his lapel. “Gosh, you’re even more obnoxious than usual. And I thought your little brush with death made you a better person. At least, that’s the gossip around here.” “Don’t believe everything you hear,” Carter bared his teeth in what he hoped looked very much like an insincere smile. Maybe the guy was going to take the hint and fuck off. “To what unpleasant reason do I owe this visit?” “Aren’t you happy to see me?” Simon threw him an equally fake smile. The guy must have had his teeth done, too. Maybe they were fake. Nah, the guy was too young for that. But what did he know? “Do you really need an answer to that? Look, man, I’m married. Whatever you think is going on here, it’s not,” Carter decided to put the cards on the table. “That didn’t stop you before,” Simon looked at him, his eyes at half-mast, in what was probably a seductive stare. It was. The guy was handsome, and he knew how to play that card well. “Before was before,” Carter shrugged. “Now is now. Do you think you can find the door on your own, or do I need to show it to you?” Simon raised his hands in surrender. “Chill, Alex. I’m here just to invite you out to lunch. Stop and don’t protest just yet. Yolanda told me I need to show you the new materials for the organic line ads, and that you’re quite busy today.” “Okay,” Carter said shortly. “See you at lunch, then. Don’t forget to bring those materials. If you come without them, I’ll kick your ass.” Simon opened his mouth and, for a few seconds, he gaped like a fish. Carter could not stop thinking that this whole body swap thing was starting to be funny. Not funny like in he wanted to roll on the floor laughing, but enough to feel satisfaction while staring at Simon, across his lacquered desk that had probably cost several thousands of dollars. “What’s gotten into you?” Simon accused, his eyes narrowing to slits. “It’s not like you to be crass.” “What can I say, man?” Carter chuckled. “A little brush with death changes one’s vocabulary. Are you ready to leave, or do you still have some unanswered questions? I don’t have all day, you know?” Simon tensed his jaw, but for a brief second. His perfect face metamorphosed back to straight, flawless lines, and he smiled. “I like it when you’re bossy,” Simon spoke, his voice languorous and filled with promises. Carter could swear the guy’s words were doig something funny to his ears. Ticklish. That was the word. “Look, Simon. You’re a handsome dude. Just go bone someone who’s into you. I’m sure you have plenty of guys fighting over you.” Simon leaned in and pouted like a child. Carter had no idea why the guy was working in the Marketing department. He clearly had it in him to pose for ads, just like Alex did. Simon was an expert in pushing buttons. But Carter was not that gullible. “But I want you,” Simon complained. “And, you know,” his eyes darted sideways, “it’s not like, if you want to, I won’t let you do the … boning,” he added the last word with a grimace, seemingly a bit unsure of what he was saying. “I can’t,” Carter replied sharply. “That seat’s taken. I’m boning my husband.” The strangest thing about what followed was that he was just as surprised as Simon. What could have gotten into him to say that? Was it true? An image of Aron’s manly body stretched over the bed, ready to be taken, whatever that meant, flashed through his mind, with the power and speed of a short circuit. He swallowed nervously. Could Aron expect that from him? But the guy seemed bent on wanting to be the one on top. It was much easier with a straight relationship. At least, there, he knew who was the fucker, and who was, well, the … fuckee. Great, now he had to go through the day trying to chase away images of Aron on the receiving end of a good shagging. Go away. Go away, you filthy thought, he struggled. “You’re fucking Aron? You’ve never told me that,” Simon reproached, when he finally got his voice back. “And why should I tell you I’m fucking my husband?” Carter shot back. “Because you said to me that you’re a complete bottom and you don’t care about, well, boning anyone.” Great, he groaned internally. Now he was going to ruin Alex’s reputation as the perfect passive partner. Ah, well, he could not care less. On the upside, that was giving him hope. What if he was the one to jump Aron’s bones, not the other way around? How hard could that be? He had gone to town with several of his ex girlfriends, it was not like he didn’t know how to do it. Well, he was going to fuck a man, not a woman, but an ass was still an ass, if he was to be philosophical about it. And that was just going to solve his problem with not being ready to be the one to take it up the ass. Aron was the gay guy between them two. So he must have had at least more experience than him in that particular department. “I must have lied to you,” he finally replied, seeing Simon still sitting there and watching him like Carter had just told him Santa Claus didn’t exist. “I thought we had a connection,” Simon glared. “You thought wrong,” Carter said back. “The only guy I’m having a connection with is my husband.” Well, at least that was true. Aron was the most important guy in his life. Always had been. Even more important than his dad. But he was not going to go there right now. He had this hot potato, shaped like a male model, on his hands, and he needed to deal with him. “Simon,” he sighed. “Just go fuck someone and forget about whatever … happened between us.” “Damn, you’re serious,” Simon whispered. “You really don’t remember. But everyone said it was just a light injury, whatever you’ve been through.” “Well, I don’t remember.” Simon opened his mouth again, but this time, he closed it with a small smile. “All right, Alex. I’ll come take you from the spa and then we’ll have lunch.” What did it feel like Carter had to wait for the other shoe to drop? Simon stood up and leaned over Carter’s desk, to stare into his eyes. “Gods, you’re beautiful,” he murmured. Carter rolled his eyes. No wonder Alex was so entitled. People were just lining up to kiss his ass. That kind of thing could only inflate one’s ego to obnoxious levels, especially if there were people as beautiful as this Simon dude doing that. “I’ll refresh your memory over lunch,” Simon walked quickly to the door and threw the last words over his shoulder. He needed to protest to that, but the guy was already out the door. Great, now he was going to fend off the dude’s advances over lunch. *** “The car is here, boss. At two, after your lunch break, Yolanda will take you for a spin with our newest clients. But I need to ask you, boss. Are you going to do the interview with New Entertainment? Yolanda insists,” Mark added quickly. “Yes, I’ll do the damn interview,” he sighed. “It’s already settled. No need to work hard to convince me. Yolanda did that for you.” “In that case, I will have to reschedule your barre class,” Mark said thoughtfully. “Will it be okay to put it Thursday? So that you don’t have to work so hard on Friday.” “Barre? What the hell is that?” “The ballet workout,” Mark replied promptly. “Ah, then I would like to say never, but it’s not like I really have that option, now do I?” Carter commented wryly. He could put up with having concealer hide his dark circles, and his hair washed and brushed until he was heaving, and meeting new clients, and fending off all kinds of creeps with a stick. He was even going to put up with the grooming stuff that he was supposed to go through. But he could have lived much much better without doing ballet. “Boss, you’re so funny,” Mark giggled. “You love your barre workouts,” the guy added, with so much conviction that Carter wanted to strangle him. “People say that it makes you really flexible and supple. Is it true? I’m just the no workout kind of guy.” Well, Alex clearly was able to self-suck just in case he was going to ever get stranded on a remote beach with only women and dolphins as companions. The perfect bottom Alex was could not flip, even in dire circumstances, Carter was convinced. So that barre thing clearly worked its magic. He just couldn’t picture himself in tights doing splits and spreads and whatever else those movements were called. “Yeah, it’s true,” he said with a sigh. “So, really, you’re too skinny, Mark. Put some meat on those bones, or some wind might knock you over.” “I only eat fast food,” Mark admitted plainly, while chewing on a pencil. Carter glared at him. “That’s bad for you,” he wagged his finger at his secretary. “Do you do any sports?” Mark made a funny face. “I’ll fire you if you don’t play sports,” Carter joked, and now Mark’s face went from funny to terrified. “Just pulling your leg. But you’re young, Mark, and you surely don’t want your liver to swim in fat by the time you’re 30. Let me tell you this secret: the only way to keep up with stuffing your face with hamburgers, is to sweat it off on the court.” “And how do you know that, boss?” Mark’s eyes seemed a bit strange as the guy spoke. Carter squinted. What kind of strange colors were in there? He blinked, and looked again; the guy’s eyes were just a normal shade of brown. He was just seeing things, and it wouldn’t have been the strangest thing that was happening to him right now. “I just read it somewhere,” he waved, realizing that he was supposed to be against sweating, or something. “Okay, boss,” Mark said cheerfully. “Have fun at the spa. Simon said he is going to take you to lunch. I will prepare the info you need to have for the meeting later. I will reschedule the barre class to Thursday, and talk to the host at New Entertainment to let him know you’re going.” “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Carter asked, putting on a straight face. “What, boss?” Mark’s face fell. Carter laughed. “Nothing serious. Just take a break, too. Maybe eat something healthy at lunch. I have a reputation to uphold here,” he joked. “We’re like all organic and shit.” Mark burst into a fit of giggles, and saw him to the door. Ah, so he was just going to relax at the spa for a few solid hours. Well, at least there were perks to being a fashion star. *** What the fuck was this? He grunted for the umpteenth time as Gladys, as the name of his tormentor was, expertedly pulled another strip of clear wax off his chest. “Come on, Alex, is not like you to be a cry baby,” the woman gave him what she probably thought was a reassuring smile. “Easy for you to say,” he glared. “No one is skinning you alive.” Gladys laughed, showing rows of perfect small white teeth. Her nickname should have been Jaws, the tiny version. “You know it’s not that bad. You’re just anticipating the pain, that is why you’re so fussy about it. Admit it. It doesn’t hurt that much.” Well, it was true. But she was basically stripping away his dignity as a guy. Never in his life had he considered shaving, except for his face, let alone waxing. This was a torture born in hell, as a price for beauty or something. At least, the skin on his legs didn’t hurt as much. Although he had no idea how could that woman hunt the smallest hair on his body. He could have sworn Alex’s body was completely smooth before coming here. Well, according to his standards, at least. “Great, now on your belly.” Ah, she probably needed to do the back of his legs, too. He felt a slight change in the massage bed. Apparently, Gladys was adjusting it for some reason. Whatever, he was not there to question her abilities as a grooming expert, slash Torquemada. “Let’s have this out of the way first,” Gladys said a bit cheerfully for his own liking. He hated to have his back at her like this. Especially since she just expertedly untied the towel he had over his midsection and pulled it out, making him raise his hips a bit. Great, now a woman whom he had no plans to have sex with, was staring at his naked ass. And what was that thing, a bit too warm, pouring over his ass crack? “Eh, what are you doing?” he asked in an unsure voice. “Just stay still and it will be over before it even starts,” Gladys said, her words followed by a short move. “Mother fucking I swear to fucking hell what the fuck!” expletives poured out of his mouth without control, as the sudden pain hit. Behind him, Gladys was laughing. Not ironically, but good-naturedly. It was official. Being in the fashion industry fucking sucked. *** At least, the full body massage and the face treatment after had been nice enough to compensate about 0.0001% of the horrid experience he had been forced to go through. The only good part in all that was that he didn’t need another treatment like that for another month or so, according to Gladys. That wasn’t good news, as that demonic woman thought. It was just a reprieve. Maybe until then he could be back to his own body, and rest peacefully in a comma. This was proving too much of a ride for him. To think that Alex enjoyed that kind of thing, he shook his head. The guy was just fucked up. True to his word, Simon was waiting for him in the parking lot, leaning against a sports car that looked way too gaudy for his tastes. Who was the asshole trying to impress? Obviously, the idiot was pleased with his car and himself, as he pushed up his sunglasses and smiled at Carter. “How was it? All baby smooth now?” Simon cooed as Carter walked over. “Shut the fuck up,” he said through his teeth. Great. So this asshole and probably the entire building where Alex worked knew he was getting his ass waxed today. Some people really had to rethink their lives, if they were interested in stupid stuff like that. Simon just laughed and pulled open the car door on his side. Carter circled the vehicle and climbed in front, cursing Simon for driving a car with only two seats. With a huff, he pulled the safety belt and crossed it over his chest. Something shadowed his field of view and it was too late when he realized what was happening. Simon was pressing him into his seat, and his lips were on Carter’s mouth. The guy was too brash. Carter pursed his lips and pushed the guy away. “What the hell, idiot?” he spat, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Just trying to have you remember,” Simon spoke, looking somewhat wounded in his pride. “You’re bullshitting me,” Carter mumbled. “Why would I be with you, when I have Aron at home?” “Aron is cheating on you,” Simon ignited the engine, making it purr. Well, that was a nice sound, Carter had to admit. But no, he was not going to get derailed by the sound of a nice car right now. “He’s not!” Carter protested. “He is!” Simon said back, his hands flexing on the wheel. He almost felt tempted to challenge the guy to a stupid childish game. “No shit,” he said aggressively. “So that is why I just feel the need to get on my knees for any cock in the company.” “Well, it’s not like that. Actually, you were pretty cruel to tell Bernie you were going to suck him off for whatever he has to do for you. He really believed it, the poor shmuck,” Simon laughed. “You were the one to say that everybody goes in and out my office like a public toilet,” Carter said defensively, this time. “I was pissed at you for telling Bernie that. Plus, when I saw him getting out of your office, struggling to pull up his pants, I swear, Alex, I thought I was seeing red in front of my eyes.” “Yeah, right,” Carter snorted. “You were cold as a shark when you came in.” “Yeah, of course I was. I know well not to act jealous around you. You say you find it bothersome. Funny thing coming from a guy who’s perpetually jealous.” Carter’s ears prickled with apprehension. What was this all about? Alex jealous? Why? Aron was not a cheater. “The truth is you have been suspecting Aron for a while,” Simon continued his annoying chatter. “Only when he turned back from his last business trip, though, you were sure. You didn’t get to tell me why, but you were sure. You said you had some proof or something.” Hmm, things were getting convoluted now. What was this proof Simon was talking about? Of course, the dude could just talk out of his ass. “It’s not what I feel now,” he said stubbornly. “I love my husband and I would never cheat on him,” he said, hoping he sounded convincing enough. “Well, you already cheated on him,” Simon said through his teeth. “With me.” Carter’s heart sank. That couldn’t be true. Yeah, Alex was a scumbag for stealing Aron and making him gay - yeah, Aron had had other gay stuff going on before, apparently, but Carter was sure the guy was just experimenting and stuff - but he could not be that much of a scumbag. Why would Alex cheat on Aron when Aron was perfect? *** During lunch, Simon proved he knew how to be professional, talking only about business. Until he pushed his phone towards Carter, with a silent plea in his eyes. Carter stared at the offending object for a while, before asking. “What am I supposed to do with this?” Simon continued to stare at his folder. “Just look at the pictures. Pictures of us. Maybe then you’ll remember.” Well, that could not be faked, right? He took the guy’s phone and stared at the first photo. He felt the instant need to grind his teeth. The scumbag sitting across from him wasn’t lying. TBC
  13. Laura S. Fox

    Daddy Issues

    Hey, thank you so much! You're always so supportive of me. I cannot be grateful enough. And, if this story ever finds its way to become a longer one, you will surely know
  14. Laura S. Fox

    Daddy Issues

    Two men find new things about each other at the end of the roughest day of their lives.
  15. Laura S. Fox

    Daddy Issues

    He used to love everything about his dad. He took in the other’s profile. The light filtered through the window pane made everything look softer. The sun was coming out, and it was already the end of the day. It had rained the entire day. It made regrets linger so much more. Their clothes were on hangers, left to dry in the other room that served both as a kitchenette and whatever the temporary guest wanted to use it for. None of them had wanted to use an umbrella the entire time. He had had no use for one. The rain falling down his shoulders made rivulets of cold water infiltrate under the collar, and run down his back, soaking him through. He knew his own reasons. He could only imagine the other’s. But staring at that face, now and then, was making him clench his hands into fists and held them tight to his sides wanting, no, needing to just smash someone’s face in. They had said nothing, the entire time. But now, in that small cramp room, it felt like they should. “You didn’t give a speech,” he talked first. A non-committal grunt was the only answer. “You should have,” he added, and he wanted his words to sound harsh and unforgiving, but they just came out like spoken by someone much younger. The other turned towards him. His eyes were impenetrable, the same cornflower blue, darkened by long lashes. “What’s it to you, anyway?” He could feel his teeth trying to bare and show and preferably take a huge chunk out of an asshole. “It was your job,” he hissed, managing to leave that vulnerable self behind. “Who says that?” The other’s voice was tired and winded, like a screw tied too much, trying to bite into the wood. “It pisses me off, you know?” he said through his teeth. “Do you know what? Most of all?” “You won’t leave me alone until you tell me, so just get it off your chest, buddy.” “Don’t call me that!” The other snorted. “Really, you’re pathetic. Just shout in my face, if that’ll make you happy. I just want to go to sleep.” “Nothing will ever make me happy.” The smile was eerie, manic. “Aren’t you a bit absurd? It’s not like we’re kids anymore. You’ll live.” He jumped from his side of darkness and grabbed the other by the shoulders. They looked into each other’s eyes for a few long moments. “It’s not fair,” he mumbled. “What? That I look just like him? See? I’m not that insensitive.” He let go of the other and sat back on his bed. “You think that your pain just justifies everything. That it just tramples all,” the other continued. This time, he just chose to remain silent. “All right, since you’re not willing to talk, I’ll do it for you. No matter what kind of a god’s shadow you think he threw over your life, he was nothing but a man.” “Shut up!” “Do you ever stop and think about your mom? How unfair all this is to her?” “Shut up, I said!” “And even now, you still take his side. Why? He wasn’t even YOUR real father.” Words were not enough. In a second, they were on the floor, wrestling, ignoring how naked and empty they both were, as they said nothing, not even to throw insults because they were well beyond that point, and words made no sense either way. He trapped the other under him, pinning him to the ground. A few raven strands were glued to a tall forehead, and blue eyes stared at him, without hate and confusion, just as impenetrable as before. He didn’t know what to do. Rough hands moved from his biceps, from keeping him away to his nape, to pull him close and caress him. Then their mouths came together, and he poured in his desperation. And it was nothing like his dreams, his old fantasies, dusty and buried somewhere between a horny teenager’s imagination and a man who knew what he could not have. It was raw, spicy and rough, and he wondered if that was how HE tasted. Hindsight was always 20/20. He tried to withdraw, but the same hands that even felt like they belonged to the same person cupped his cheeks, and thumbs caressed the tightness in his jaw and tendons. “Just go for it, if this is what you want,” the other said simply. It was so much easier said than done. There were rough planes, and hard muscles everywhere, and it was like he could not find his way in, no matter what. He heard the other spitting, and he just moved away slightly to let him. He followed the other’s hand with his fingers, understanding what he was doing. He hurried to replace the fingers moving in and out, wondering why it felt so tight, and how they were going to do it, anyway. Yet, as his fingers understood the rhythm and tightness gave in little by little, there was a sudden surge of something else, totally different from what he felt before. “It’s okay now,” the other spoke firmly, and he followed the indirect order, trying to push in, and now realizing what it meant. For long seconds, the hot tunnel let him in little by little. And the strangest thing of all was not just how he hard was, and how hot the other was, but how whole he felt all of a sudden. So he began moving, embracing both the familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, letting that wonder and pain happen, because he was allowed to and even if the body sweating and shifting slightly under him was not HIS, it made him finally whole. He could feel the other’s hardness trapped between their bodies. He liked feeling it. The other pushed him a little further, and he growled. “Don’t be such an idiot.” He wasn’t an idiot. But he could not bear being away, even just an inch. The other protested with a soft sigh. But he didn’t let go and just continued to crash the other with his body, superior in size and power. And just moved and moved, drinking in the other’s repressed moans until he could feel his entire body getting tighter and the release exploded deep inside. Regret and longing replaced the high, as he was finally pushed away, and the other got on his feet. “Hey,” he tried to reach for the other. “Don’t worry,” his hand was refused. “At least, now you know.” They lay each one in his own bed. For a long time, he stared at the other’s back. They were already so far away. “He was the best father a kid like me could have,” he spoke, breaking the silence. “Maybe. I guess.” “It never mattered that he was not my biological father.” The other said nothing. “I envied you.” “Yeah. You’re stupid like that.” “I loved him. All my life. Only him.” “Then you’re lucky,” the other said back. “Because he did love YOU back.” He buried his face into the pillow and did the one thing he couldn’t do the entire day. THE END

Important Information

Our Privacy Policy can be found here. We have placed cookies on your device to help make this website better. You can adjust your cookie settings, otherwise we'll assume you're okay to continue..