Dave

By Iain Robertson

Published on Oct 8, 2002

Gay

Copyright for this story belongs to and remains with the author. I don't have any major objection to my work being re-distributed, but ASK FIRST!!!

This is a gay adult story with the consequent language and images. If homosexuality and/or sexually explicit themes offend you then do not continue. If these are illegal in your area, then you have my sympathy, but you proceed at your own risk.

This is a work of fiction, and as such the characters are not bound by the usual dictates of modern society. Unsafe sexual practices can be undertaken with impunity only in the world of fantasy. In reality, it is your obligation and your right to play safely, sanely and healthily.

I hope you enjoy my work, and if you have any comments, or ideas that may inspire new work, please feel free to contact me - all emails will be answered to the best of my ability. Iainlthr@hotmail.com.

Dave

Iainlthr@hotmail.com

Chapter Six - How Did This Happen?

I looked up at him, and my brain raced. How did this happen? Why was he here? What do I say to him?

"Hello, Mike," Dave said quietly, uncertainly. "It's good to see you again." As he did, he handed me the rose.

"Uh, hi. Thank you ." I murmured softly.

"Do you mind if I sit down?"

"Yes. I mean, no, please, sit," I stuttered, trying desperately to come to terms with his sudden and unexpected appearance.

"How . ?" I asked as he slid into the seat next to me, the question hanging in the air.

"A friend of yours - Neil - reached me through the company I work for. He rang me and told me that you really needed to see me. When I told him that you had never wanted to see me again, he said that you had changed your mind. He said to meet you here tonight."

So that was why Neil had asked all those questions.

"But, did you come up from Melbourne especially?"

"Melbourne? No, that job finished earlier than expected. I moved back to Sydney about 2 months ago. I really wanted to call you, but I kept remembering how you left, and how you refused to take my calls, and I couldn't put myself through that again."

I sat for a moment in silence, just looking at him. God, he was beautiful. I loved the way his hair hung to one side over his forehead, and I loved the curl of his lips when he smiled. I remembered the definition of his chest, which filled out the shirt he was wearing so well, and my imagination brought to life the rest of his body for me.

"Dave," I said, quietly, looking down at the table in front of me. "I'm sorry for what I said, and I'm sorry for not keeping in touch."

"It's okay," he answered, but I cut him off again.

"No, it's not. You deserved more than that. I was just so jealous of the other guys, the one who lived in your building and who wanted you, and the one who left the note for you that day. And I was angry too, angry with myself I guess. I wanted you, wanted to have you all to myself, but we were going to be so far apart, and I didn't have the courage to tell you how much you really meant to me, so I had no right to expect you to be faithful."

Dave sat there in silence. I looked up, and his eyes were boring into mine.

"But in spite of all of that, I just couldn't take the thought of being here while you were there, always wondering who you were with, what you were doing. I needed to try to make a clean break." I gave him an imploring look, begging him to understand.

"Mike," he began, slowly, choosing his words. "After you left, and we argued on the phone, I felt so guilty, and yet I couldn't understand why you were so upset. We hadn't promised each other anything ."

"I know," I broke in, "and that was why I was so angry with myself. I felt that we had a relationship, but I hadn't put it in words. And I just expected you to feel the same way when you obviously didn't."

"I did think we had something special," he said. "I hoped it would grow into something more, but I wasn't ready to tie myself down, at least not then."

"Are you ready now, then?" I asked, and then wished I hadn't. Before he could reply, I held up my hand. "No, don't answer that. I have no right to ask."

I held his gaze for a long moment, felt all the pent-up emotion of the last year pushing at me, confusing my thoughts. "Dave, I missed you, badly. That `clean break' I wanted didn't work. I've thought about you every day since then. I've been miserable without you in my life, even though it was me who caused that to happen."

"I've missed you too. You don't know how many times I went to call you, but I just kept remembering the messages I left on your machine, and the waiting for you to call back which never happened." His face showed the hurt I had caused him.

"So did you end up back with Geoff?" I asked, unsure if I wanted to hear the answer.

"No," he smiled at last. "But I did meet someone else. He was a lot like you actually."

My heart sank, I had left it too late again. Dave took my hand in his and went to speak again, but was interrupted by the waiter walking quickly up to our table and excusing himself.

"Err, Mr Mitchell?" he asked, looking from me to Dave and back again.

"Yes, that's me," said Dave, looking up at him, annoyed by the poor timing.

"There's an urgent call for you, sir. Would you like to follow me?"

Dave looked at me and shrugged his shoulders. "I won't be a second,' he said as he hurried after the waiter. I sat and watched as he spoke quickly into the phone, asking some questions, writing something on a pad. The whole time I felt a familiar sinking feeling in my stomach.

Dave raced back to me. "Mike, I'm really sorry, but I have to go ."

"What's the matter?" I asked, concerned.

"It's, uh, hard to explain right now, but I have to rush off. It's a, umm, friend, from, err, Melbourne, who's in some trouble. I'm sorry, I'll call you later, okay?" and he disappeared into the night. I sat there in shock. He had gone, and all I knew was that he was back in Sydney. I had no phone number, no address for him. The waiter came up to the table again.

"Can I get you anything, sir?' he asked.

In a breaking voice, I choked out, "No, thanks, I'll be going now, too." Trying desperately to keep my emotions under control, I dropped some money on the table for the meal we hadn't had, and almost ran to the door.

By the time I got home, I was angry. Angry with him this time. How could he do this, just show up again and then dump me in the middle of dinner with no explanation. I told myself I was better off without him, that I should have grown up and gotten over him a long time ago.


The following day, Sunday, my phone rang early. Dave's voice speared into my brain as I answered.

"Mike, I'm so sorry about last night, I ."

"Don't bother explaining!" I said icily. "There's no need. I would hate to keep you from your `friend' from Melbourne!" I slammed down the phone again.

Almost instantly, it rang once more. I let it ring for a minute, wondering if I should turn on my machine, but I decided I wasn't going through all of that again. I grabbed the receiver from the cradle, and almost yelled into the mouthpiece.

"Listen, arsehole, I'm not interested, okay? And I'm not going to put up with the calls and messages again! So don't bother, just leave me alone!"

On the other end of the line a shocked and bemused Neil said softly, "And a good morning to you, too!"

"Oh shit, Neil, sorry," I said, grimacing.

"I take it the date didn't go as well as hoped?" Neil said quietly.

"Hardly!" I spat. "I don't know why he even bothered to show up, since he raced off to his boyfriend in the middle of a sentence."

"But he doesn't have a boyfriend!" Neil sounded surprised and concerned. "I asked him that before I arranged for you two to meet again."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. I spoke to him at length. Mike, he's been just as depressed as you, he was desperate to see you again, but he didn't think you'd meet him. That's why I told you it was me you were meeting last night!"

"Oh, shit! Well, something happened. Do you have his phone number?"

"Only a work number. I don't know where he lives," said Neil, getting upset.

"Fuck! Okay, give me his number at work, and I'll call him tomorrow. I have a feeling I might have stuffed up badly. I hope he'll let me talk, after I wouldn't let him explain," I said, feeling even worse now than I had before.

I sat and pondered on what had happened all morning. Why had he rushed off? Did he really want to see me again? Would he let me apologise tomorrow? I felt sick to my stomach with all the unanswered questions in my head, and no-one to tell me everything would be alright.

Around 2.30 that afternoon, my doorbell rang. Rang and rang and rang, like someone was leaning on it. I hit the intercom button, annoyed, and demanded to know who was there. No answer, but still the ringing went on. Really irritated now, I hurried downstairs to the front door. A piece of cardboard had been folded up and stuck into the mechanism to keep my bell ringing, and that same piece of card was attached with a string to a huge basket of red roses. In the middle of the flowers was an envelope with my name written on the outside. I looked around madly, but apart from a couple of grinning pedestrians watching my antics there was no one to be seen.

I gathered up the basket, and walked back to my flat. Inside, I quickly tore open the envelope, and removed a hand-written page. After all this time, I still recognised Dave's writing.

"My dearest Mike. I am so very sorry for leaving so suddenly last night. I can understand why you won't take my calls, but after last time, I am not going to walk away without trying to explain. The `friend' from Melbourne was Sarah, a woman I got to know and to become friends with. She had been badly injured in a car crash. The police had found my name and number in her purse and called my home. My flatmate - and she is just that, a flatmate, told them where I was, and they called the restaurant, asking me to go to the hospital urgently. Sarah should be okay, but it was close there for most of the night.

As I was trying to tell you when we were interrupted, I did meet someone in Melbourne. His name is Greg, and he reminded me a lot of you, which is probably why I was attracted to him in the first place. We saw each other for about 2 months, but split up, at my suggestion. His problem was that he was a lot like you, but he wasn't you!

I have been utterly miserable without you in my life for the last year, and if there is any way you can forgive me, I really would like to try again. My future is in your hands now.

Dave.

Under his name were written an address and a telephone number. I read and re-read the note a dozen times, tears welling up in my eyes and cascading down my cheeks. How could I have been so awful to him, the most wonderful man in the world?

Fearful, unsure of what I would say, but knowing I had to say something, I dialled the number on his letter. A female voice answered, and I stopped for a moment in surprise. But of course, his flatmate!

"Uh, hello, is Dave Mitchell there please?" I croaked into the phone.

"No, sorry but he's out at the moment," she replied.

"Oh, uh, ." I didn't know what else to say, my mind went blank.

"Is that Mike?" asked the voice on the other end of the phone.

"Yes," I whispered.

"Dave said if you called, to ask you to call him on this number ." she rattled off the digits as I scribbled them down furiously. "It's a cafe, close to your place. And Mike?"

"Yeah?"

"He really wants to see you again!"

"Thanks, I'll call him straight away."

Feeling more emboldened, I called the restaurant, and had them page him. When he finally came on the line, my heart was racing. At the sound of his nervous voice, I jammered out in a string of words,

"Dave, it's me, I'm so sorry, I should have let you explain, I'm sorry, I really want to see you again, please forgive me, I love the flowers, you are so special ."

He cut me off, and I could hear the relief and the joy in his voice. "Mike, Mike, it's me who should be apologising. I should have taken a few minutes last night to tell you what was happening. It was just such a shock, I didn't think."

"You're close by?" I asked, although I knew the answer. "How fast can you get here?"

He laughed. "I can be there before you hang up the phone!"

"Then do it!"

I almost dropped the phone in my rush to get downstairs. As I flung open the door of my building, Dave was running along the street from the cafe. Rushing to meet him, I flung my arms around him and kissed him, long and hard. He was kissing me back and holding me so tightly I thought he would crush me. We broke apart again, crying tears of joy, and blushing at the open stares of the people on the street. Hand in hand we walked a little more slowly back up to my flat.

Without a word, he pushed the door closed behind us and grabbed me again, kissing me passionately, his arms around me and his hands travelling up and down my back. I ground my pelvis against his and our bulging, thickening cocks pushed at each other through the clothes we wore.

I tingled with his every touch, and his hold awakened desires that had been dormant for a long time, too long. Still locked to his lips, tasting his manly flavour, I struggled with the buttons of his jeans, finally getting them open and pushing his pants and jocks down so they fell to his knees as my hand gripped at his rampant swollen cock and cupped his large rolling balls. His hands were on my skin, holding my waist, and he lifted his arms up, removing my T-shirt as he did, then dropped them again pushing my shorts and underpants from me in a single fluid movement so that my swollen rod slapped upwards as it was released, spraying droplets of pre-cum over his groin and the front of his shirt. I stepped from the bundle of clothes at my feet and my fingers began to fight with his shirt, trying in vain to unbutton it. Without letting his lips leave mine, he grabbed either side of the garment and ripped it open, sending buttons flying in all directions and exposing his magnificent torso as he dropped the flimsy cotton to the floor.

We stood there, naked and excited, rubbing hard against each other, chest to chest, stomach to stomach, cock to cock as our tongues wrestled for space in both mouths. Eventually our kiss was broken, but only so that Dave's mouth could travel across my neck and slowly down my chest. I flung my head back and moaned as I dug my fingers into the firm flesh of his butt cheeks and pressed my dick harder against the swollen turgid flesh of his rod. Both of us were leaking copious amounts of pre-cum which was mashed and slavered all over our prongs as we fought with each other, each trying to devour the other. He pushed me back slowly until I came up against the solidity of the sofa backrest, immovable against my arse cheeks.

We stopped for a moment then, halted by the reality of the furniture in our way. I opened my eyes to find Dave staring hard at me, a burning need of passionate lust on his face. That need was matched by my own. Lifting on my toes, I allowed my weight to settle on the upright backing of the lounge, and lifted my legs around him gripping his waist with my knees as his hands held me steady and pulled me harder against him. Once more, his mouth returned to my body, biting and licking at my nipples, kissing and pulling the hard brown nubs of skin as he attacked me and elicited groans of intense pleasure from my throat.

I reached down to him and felt the slickness of his cock already moist from our outpourings. I ran my finger along the underside of his shaft, milking more of his pre-cum from him and scooping it from his slit, up and over the head of his cock. Repeating the procedure with my own prick, I soon managed to coat his throbbing pole with a combination of our seminal juice, leaving it slippery and oozing. Sensing my need was as great as his, Dave hawked a mouthful of saliva onto his hand and brought it down to his cock, mixing it with the existing slime and creating a natural lubricant from our body fluids.

Backing his hips away for a second, he manoeuvered himself around until, with a little help from me, the flared head of his cock was pressing against the puckering muscle of my ring. He looked again into my eyes, seeking confirmation that I was okay with this, and I smiled a grin full of lusty need and nodded. As he pushed forward I relaxed myself and pushed back at him, feeling the knob of his prick open me. The lubrication we had made was thin, but it was enough. I grunted slightly at the initial pain of his penetration, but it was soon replaced by the delight of having him inside me as my sphincter gripped tightly at the rounded cockhead piercing my entrance.

Dave entered me then, not in a single long stroke, but by pulling back and pushing in again, so that his cock slid a little deeper into me with each thrust forward. Quickly, his pelvis was hard against my cheeks, the full length of his glorious prod sunk deep inside my bowel. With my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his waist, I didn't let him rest. I needed him so much, and I held him tightly, drawing him into me, urging him to fuck me hard and fast.

He needed no encouragement, driving himself into me as his mouth returned to my chest. His hips thrust forward and his long fleshy sword stabbed into my gut, filling me and probing me, sending shivers of delight through my frame. I gripped at his shaft with my anus, and kicked my heels into his butt, driving him further and further into me as I groaned with pleasure from the attention lavished on my tits. My cock was massaged between our bodies, my balls crushed in the confined space hard against his abdomen, but I ached with joy at the thumping, pounding insertion of his steel hard pole through my accommodating arse. We fucked. Hard and fast and urgently. His cock fucked into my body, thumping up through my gut. My arsehole fucked his rod, clenching and milking it, taking possession of his masculinity and unwilling to let it go. We heaved and humped at each other, rutting like there was no tomorrow, gasping and moaning as we joined in a fierce, intense union of two bodies fusing into one being. And we drove each other onwards and upwards as he stabbed himself into me and I impaled myself onto his fleshy spike.

I lost all track of time, and had no idea whether we rocked and clenched at each other for a minute or an hour, but however long it was, it came to an end all too soon. The incredible sensations of physical joining, combined with the emotional damburst of being re-united, lifted each of us to the peak of passionate arousal, and pushed us over the abyss. Almost as one, Dave and I began to gasp and cry out. Simultaneously, his cock swelled and thudded deep into me as my hole tightened around him and my body twitched with the spasms of climax. I felt the sudden and irresistible explosion within my groin as my balls emptied their load through my shaft and a geyser of hot creamy cum erupted over our bodies, and at the same moment I felt him shuddering against me, within me, as he emptied his manseed far inside my body, filling me with his essence as he rocked with the force of orgasm.

As the intensity of our peak slowly died away, we both let out a long sigh of sated release in unison. Still perched on the back of the sofa, I rolled back and fell onto the lounge and Dave quickly joined me, lying on top of me as we kissed again in that hazy afterglow which always follows truly enjoyable sex.

"I missed you so much," I whispered to him when we broke our kiss, lying there pressed together, the slimy residue of my ejaculation squelching between us.

"You mean so much to me Mike," he said softly. "Do you think we can make things work this time?"

"I hope so! I'm damn sure I'm going to try hard," I said sincerely.

"Me too."

"Dave, . " my words were quiet but firm. "I need you to understand. I'm the jealous, possessive type. I can't help it, it's just the way I am. If we are going to build a relationship, ."

"And we are!" he enthused. I ignored him and carried on.

"If we are going to build a relationship, then you have to understand and accept that it's just us. No flings, no one-night stands, no quick sex on the side. I won't see anyone else, and I won't let you see anyone else either. Are you okay with that?"

He grinned, but his reply was honest and serious. "I can't tell you I won't notice good looking men," he said, "but I promise you that you are the one and only man I want. No one else could possibly come close to making me feel the way you do, and I ain't gonna do anything to risk losing you again!"

We spent the rest of the day just lying in each other's arms. It felt so good to have him back, to be able to just touch him, to run my finger along his jaw or around his cock any time I wanted. I knew we had a long way to go, a lot to sort out yet, and that we couldn't dare just going on as though the last year hadn't happened, but I was determined to make it work, and we were making a good start.

Later that night we made love again, but after the urgent explosion of the afternoon, this was a slow, tender union. Dave lay me back gently on the bed, kissing me all over my body and paying special attention to my sensitive nipples which he knew drove me wild. He entered me slowly, so that his cock was almost caressing my arse as it slid inside me, and he rocked back and forth with me in a slow rhythm of delightful fucking that lasted for hours. Each of us warned the other when we grew close to the point of explosion so we could slow down and let the passion subside in order to prolong our coupling. When we finally did reach orgasm, we did it together. Holding each other tightly and twitching and shaking as one through the bliss of climax, and drifting back to earth in each other's arms, his cock still within me as we remained a single, joined being.

The next morning, we woke again in each other's arms. I smiled at the delight of being there with him, and couldn't stand the thought of dragging myself into work and leaving his arms.

"I think I might have a day off," I mused quietly, almost to myself.

Only just awake, Dave responded sleepily, "Sounds perfect to me. I might have a `sickie' as well. And we can stay here and nurse each other back to health!"

I grinned, and we made the necessary calls from bed, before rolling back into each other's arms for more kissing, fondling and hugging.

Around 1.30 that afternoon we were interrupted in yet another embrace by the ringing of the telephone. I answered it to hear Neil's concerned voice on the other end.

"Mike, are you alright? I rang you at work to find out if you'd tried to get onto Dave, but they said you were sick. And then I thought I'd butt in and call him, but he's away too!"

I smiled at Dave who was listening in. "I'm fine," I said to Neil. "Just perfect! And I can assure you Dave is feeling pretty good right now, and he's not that far away."

Neil laughed down the line. "You sly dog! So you managed to sort out the problem?"

"Uh huh!"

"Then, when you two manage to find your way out into the light of day again, I think it's about time we actually met this guy! Until then, have fun, and don't do anything I can't imagine."

"That leaves me pretty safe," I chuckled, and hung up as Dave's fingers found my nipple and started pinching it, making me shiver and causing my cock to swell again.

To be continued.

This story is a fantasy, it is not real and only happened in my imagination. YOU MUST REMEMBER that in the real world, you can DIE from having unsafe sex. It is your right and your duty to make sure that condoms are always used, whether you are giving or receiving. It doesn't matter how good looking or how ugly he is, and it doesn't matter whether you are top or bottom, USE A CONDOM!

Next: Chapter 7


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