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Forgetting The Phonecall free porn video
Forgetting the Phonecall
By Solon Plorry
Forgetting the phone call, though it was easily more important then anything else!
Nuit wasn't good at this, but then again, he had little experience. A couple more calls
after one o'clock failed to locate her wayward husband, and wrath replaced her
earlier heartsickness. She knew he would call; what the hell was he doing? Getting
his jollies at a strip club probably, or maybe watching a porn movie with one of his
chums, maybe drinking and losing track of the time. When he'd call, he'd serve her
up some balderdash, his voice crisp and explanatory weaving a web. He was a
hopeless liar, always had been, which was something to be thankful for, but it was
outweighed by the facts he was up to something he wanted her not to be involved in,
and he would boldly lie about it. Sherry grabbed at the hope maybe there was a legit
reason for him off gallivanting; and he'd come home. The psychological gymnastics
suddenly fell heavy on her thin shoulders, and she was exhausted. She lay down by
the baby crib, weeping from the hurt. She drifted off, face drenched, with the
strategy of going along cheerfully with Darren until he got home loosely defined in
the back of her mind. She was not going to lose her marriage! That was bottom line!
The Capri parked along the seawall and shut down, gurgling warmly in the night.
Lights from across the bay made a dazzling sight over the water, conducive to
intimacy. A red beacon glided across the horizon, hinting at mysterious unworldly
forces of vast energy. In the soft dark, they were truly alone for the first time since
they met. A delicious aroma tweaked their appetites, giving mundane action first
priority.
The Capri wasn't set up for lovebirds. Bucket seats with a floor shift, the car was
built for the business of getting there, that's all. In the warmth, Brownie removed his
coat, tossing it to the backseat. He took a compact out and using the dim city light to
do his face, touched up the flaws as he saw them. Nuit sorted out dinner, using the
console for table. Primped and pretty, Brownie threw down the purse and sat back,
pulling his legs up to his chest, somehow looking coolly cozy despite the cramped
quarters. When Nuit handed over his food, Brownie sat loking at him, arranging
their power relationship. The second that passed before he smilingly allowed Nuit to
serve him lasted a long second, not the usual kind that went by unnoticed. Darren
smiled, taking his defeat as he watched the winsome thing greedily consume the
food, looking up at him occasionally with that delightful innocence so unfairly given
pretty people. Nuit was glad he was there, thinking... god a guy could do helluva lot
worse!
The feeding consumed both men's interest, and in no time they were done. As Nuit
took a minute to gather up the refuse, Brownie suddenly put down his feet and got
out of the car. He leaned in, saying "Pee" with a little smirk then softly closing the
door. Alone, Darren bundled the trash, then got out too, looking at Brownie standing
near the back of the car, a hissing noise just audible. Nuit saw a trash can and
quickly went to get rid of the bundle. When he came back, Brownie was just
finishing, and they looked at each other across the top of the car. The episode
clarified that Brownie was male, and as they reentered the car, Nuit, who hadn't really
thought about it, thought about it then. Not only was he two timing his woman, who
surely missed him, but he was doing it with a man...a very pretty man, but a man
nevertheless! That reminded him- he had to call Sherry, and sooner better! In the car,
Brownie effortlessly folded his legs under him, putting his arm on the backrest and
watched Nuit pensively, as if he read the signals. Nuit grabbed the wheel, taking in
the view briefly, sensing the light touch of Brownie's gaze. He was confused, torn
between duty and escape, boredom and adventure, safety and danger.
Or right and wrong. But before any idea firmed up, Brownie struck, in the game of
fucking he was the hunter though appearances seemed the other way around. The
countless volumes written on the game of fucking need no summation; it is love as
power or power as love and no peace can possibly exist between combatants.
Brownie had nothing in terms of his relationships; Nuit had everything a modern
man could want. That put the onus on Brownie, because he needed sex with a
visceral need his psychosis made crude. Slipping across the space between them, he
jammed up against Nuit, never taking his eyes off him. Nuit was swamped when the
boy softly kissed him in the dark, the smell of the exotic thrilling, real thrilling and
so easy to respond to. Nuit thought he was the guy who determined limit location
but he was blind to the fact he never even determined limit existence; Brownie did
that! Nuit thought further he was the final arbitrator of their scene's playout, but he
wasn't. He was trapped!
It flew out of control in a rush, the tiny car interior containing a selfishness tonic
only a good and healthy disinterest or virtue could possibly resist. Whatever Nuit
kept back was quickly taken control of by Brownie, who demanded love. And this
was love, so gimme! gimme! gimme! The kisses he administered to his man were
sweet, there was no denying. Full out feminine kisses, horny kisses! He hugged
Nuit, almost occupying the remainder of the space between them, his lower backed
wedged against the steering wheel. The awkwardness only accentuated the outlaw
element inherent in acts whose consummation would end their usefulness to each
other, for these very selfish young men.
Nuit felt stunned by the assault. His hand kneaded the slim softness of electric skin
under the other's shirt. Brownie was a knot of energy, huffing breaths then
smothering Nuit with more kisses. Nuit hugged him, his hands sliding down
exploring, hitting the steering wheel. Brownie grabbed the hand and reset it under
the steering wheel, on his ass, a moment's motion. Nuit felt the tony flesh under the
fabric of jeans, and never even detected the kid unsnapping them, making it easy for
them to slip down, aided by Brownie with stealth born of necessity. Nuit was aware
of a growing hardness against his stomach and chest, the kid's excitement urgent
now. Taking a breath, Nuit absorbed the richness of sight and smell. Wow! He
pulled the youth to him hard, pressing his face against Brownie as busy hands felt
and probed. Tiny breathless moans were pure turn on.
Nuit was erect, his hard on almost finding its own way out when suddenly Brownie
grabbed it, in a breath take! He liberated it easily and roughly from the confines of
Nuit's slacks, holding and squeezing it for a few seconds. His own erection was
pressed against Nuit's chest, leaking stickiness. Nuit could smell it; though not that
much younger than he, the boy was pungent as a teen in the close confines of the
car. It was intoxicating!
Brownie pushed Nuit back, the discomfort of the position too much for him
suddenly. "Fuck this, move over man!' he said in his soft clear girly voice, wiggling
aside from the steering wheel. Nuit ignored the crudity, savouring the smooth curve
of the ass, going between, touching secrets. Listening to the anxious breathing and
soft words c'mon c'mon pleading ordering at the same time. Now that they both
were over the line where seduction no longer needed that soft sure touch, Brownie
moved and rested his body against the other bucket, taking a temporary break from
love's labour. Breathing hard he looked right at Nuit, saying "Let's fuck.... ok"
looking around with long hair flying "in the back seat...yeah" He took Nuit's hand
and put it on his cock, watching Nuit closely. The shock of feeling another man's
bony stiffness completely threw some guys, guys who had learned their birds and
bees too well! Nuit froze when contact happened, but his hand neither groped nor
fled, just idly remaining while Brownie offered himself to it. Nuit took a deep breath
and crossed another boundary, tentatively touching the hot hard handle, then
gripping it, amazed some more by a weird pulsing; the heartbeat! Feeling the kid's
heart beating through his cock! The size was remarkable in that it was not a tiny
thing, which Brownie's personality suggested possible. It was a common mistake
among Brownie's customers, but the fact usually proved more than agreeable.
Nuit agreed to hit the back seat. He was bursting with ruthless lust, and slid out of
the car, the dome light frightening him with its awful brightness when he opened the
door.
Brownie took the short cut, slipping over the seats into the back with a whore's
grace. When Nuit grasped the door, it was locked, and he tapped on the window to
alert Brownie, nearly invisible in the darkened interior. Brownie ignored him, and
after a wasted minute, Nuit went in and reached back to unlock it, not looking at
Brownie. He joined him, immediately engulfed by the excitement so interrupted. By
now he wanted Brownie, wanted his pleasure. Roughly, he positioned his mate for a
clinical exam, pushing the naked kids's legs up and back, for the first time in his life
looking at raunchy male, both appalled and thrilled by the sight and scent. He maybe
expected something small, polite and very femme, but Brownie was an ordinary man
down there, and Nuit let fate continue on. Brownie raised his legs over Nuit's head,
shoving his penis towards him, demanding he take it, leaving him no choice. Closing
his eyes, Nuit for the second time in his life took an erect hard on into his mouth,
revolted and delighted simultaneously by the taste, the hard power. The gamine boy
who caught the eyes of a hundred others was his, completely. Brownie, fortunately
(or not) was a developing expert in 'first timers', men who had never had an adult
experience of this sort. They were to be his main clientele, in part because they were
usually more nervous and scared then he....in the game of fucking, this brand of
fucking, so he had an advantage, not much but still something. Brownie was not
queer, in his own mind, not really. Having short affairs with straight, often married
men was a game to him. As usual, he would demand money for the tryst later, before
they separated. That's why he did it; for money. Sex for money; hardly an honorable
idea, but better then being a faggot. Brownie barely tolerated fags.
The dizzy spiral that is a blow job delivered on a guy picked up in a downtown bar
that catered to gays and bi's and others who said they were straight continued to its
denoument. Cramped in the backseat, with the babycarseat shoved roughly onto the
floor out of the way, and with a frantic young man's sex organ quivering in his
mouth, Nuit ended up jammed into the area behind the driver seat. Brownie took up
the entire couch squirming and gasping. Nuit had sucked cock before, Pauli's, when
they both were fourteen. It was much different though, because they were barely
different from girls, and had drunk of a stolen bottle of wine. They took turns
sucking on each other, then just jerked off together. They were such friends that the
incident was never mentioned by either of them again, it didn't have to be, because it
was just kids' experimentation, hardly remembered.
Performing fellatio on an adult like Brownie was not only more exciting, it required
a degree of finesse. Teeth can be very annoying if used too carelessly, and almost all
first time straight guys needed someone like Brownie to talk them through.
Brownie's hands were busy, stopping and hurrying Nuit as Nuit brought him nearer
and nearer to sex ecstasy. With his other hand, Nuit squeezed his own aching cock,
seemingly drawn into a deeper intensity by the flavour, feel, aroma, sounds and sight
of the lurid action. Intoxicated by the excitement, Nuit now understood why men
were homosexuals. Greedily, he licked Brownie's anus, feeling the kid jump in
reaction to his cool tongue. Brownie was moaning in an agony of pleasure, Nuit
wanting Brownie's release almost as passionately as Brownie. Nuit could actually
feel it happen, his senses were so attuned by then. Where orgasms start is anyone's
guess, but they certainly take off from somewhere, deep within the guts or nerves or
even legs. Brownie's was coming, and both men knew it. It took seconds, with a
stinging intensity gripping the youth, shutting him up and tensing him for a long
long moment, then it roared in like a freight, and Brownie erupted in hot come,
gushing into Nuit's mouth with a zipping sound, jet after jet hosing the back of
Nuit's throat. It was almost unbelievably delicious, more nectar then body fluid; at
least for those few seconds before Nuit himself experienced his own wrenching
climax, pure animal release, squirting on the carseat and floormat in front of him.
Nuit's sense of revulsion was instantaneous, even while his system was still spewing,
as if his soul was waiting. Brownie was done, and his experience showed. He knew
a first timer would be horrified by the deed, so Brownie always pulled away, getting
a ways from his lover, then watching, ready to offer support if needed. Nuit needed
it; he had sprayed on his baby's carseat! As if he needed that on top of everything
else. He felt as awful as a man can feel, and rightly so.
There was nothing to do but get it over with and the hell out of there. Brownie was
all consideration now, his satiation shown by his trembling. They both got back into
the front, Brownie over the top and Nuit by doors. Brownie this time reached over
and opened the door before Nuit could get there, as if the help helped. Nuit started
the car but was forced to wait until his sex partner finished dressing. When
Brownie's pants were on, Nuit put it in gear and hurried away from their parking
space, shocked to see a police car with running lights on parked beside the service
road not far from where they were! Damn! Heart thumping, Nuit drove on, fearing
the cops would come for them, suddenly afraid of Brownie, afraid of what he could
do if they were caught together. But Brownie again seemed tuned into the dynamics;
he smiled at Huit and assured him things were ok. Once they were on Oceanfront
drive, Huit relaxed, until he saw the time on the dash clock-almost three thirty! Sick,
Huit realized the enormity of what he done, and he was very upset. Brownie watched
him quietly, they all went through this, but this guy seemed unusually bad. Brownie
was always most vulnerable at these times, his fetching prettiness a burden now
rather than a weapon. There was little he could do but wait for Nuit to relax. On the
offchance, he asked Darren if he wanted to stop for a coffee: Nuit looked coldly at
his lover and tersely told him 'must get home!' As they got near 16th, he considered
giving the fag some money and letting him make his way wherever the hell he was
going. It was very late, and not much traffic around, so he turned on 16th and
headed downtown. At least the roads were clear, he'd be home in a half hour. 'Christ'
he almost shouted, hitting the steering wheel and making the punk jump. He was
going to do whatever was necessary to make things right. He looked at Brownie,
who had withdrawn into silence, and told him "I'll let you off by Starrett Street, will
that be ok" a statement not a question. Brownie said nothing, but nodded slightly,
looking down and biting his lip. The evening wasn't done yet!
The Capri hurried down the nearly empty streets. Like a drunkard, Nuit wanted
everything he planned done right now! As they approached Williams Street,
Brownie unexpectedly turned in his seat and asked how much money Nuit was
going to pay. The question caught Nuit off guard. "What?' he said, a question not a
statement. Brownie lay his head against the backrest, looking at Nuit and earnestly
telling him he really needed money, he had none and he thought Darren understood
that he didn't go out and fuck guys for nothing! Gimme! Gimme! Nuit was tempted
to refuse, but glancing at the kid realized he was being silly. Of course! The man
was a prostitute, he was trolling for tricks in that room all those hours ago....shit! So
maybe the looks that they got were knowing looks; not jealous admiration! Nuit
nearly spit in contempt at himself but again saw Brownie, staring down, so alone.
Nuit muttered 'ok ok' then told him 'how much?' Brownie surprised him, asking if
twenty five was too much. Nuit nodded, his heart in a different softer place, telling
him that he could have fifty, though he had not known it was a pay and go deal; he
thought they were...friends. Brownie just looked at him, his upper lip slightly
twisted in a look that made him about as beautiful as a person can be and still be
male. It was clear that the affair had been a couple hours job to him, and Darren was
a trick, a john, a client. Nuit was baffled. Suddenly he didn't want their relationship
to end, not like this! "Brownie, I'm sorry" he began "It was nothing to do with you, it
was me, my stupidity" "Please don't be mad, I really like you, maybe wanna see you
again' pulling the car to the curb. " Not for ...screwing" he said earnestly "I'd like to
know you better" a long silence then " OK?" Brownie looked at Nuit, glad to have
him right where he wanted; na?ve about how the game of fucking was played. A
master of the wait, he looked at Darren in a searching manner, letting the mood seeth
until just right! "I don't know where I'm going to be, but I'll seeya around maybe" he
said. Both men were finished with each other, at least for now.
The end
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