New York

By Paul Sung

Published on Dec 29, 2002

Gay

DISCLAIMER ==========

This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. The author asserts all legal and moral rights (copyright (c) 2002 - psun@hotmail.com) to this work and you may not copy it or transmit it in any way except in its entirety and with this disclaimer. This story features descriptions of sex between males:

  • if such material is prohibited in your jurisdiction, please DO NOT READ ON, - if you're under the legal age to read such material, please DO NOT READ ON, - if you don't like, or are offended by such material, please DO NOT READ ON. And any comments - brickbats or bouquets, send them over to psun@hotmail.com And if you find that you like what you're reading, visit my page at http://www.geocities.com/savante_2002

Checking on my shirt, I made sure that it was crease-free. Didn't want my mother muttering silently about the state of disrepair that I'd lived in ever since I'd moved out. Adjusting the collar in the hall mirror, I smiled at my reflection. I didn't look too bad for a man of 29. Preening for a while, I noted that I still had my full head of black hair. My body was still trim, I had my fair share of muscles and filled out my clothes very well indeed. Although I certainly couldn't aspire to the realm of stud godhood like Ricci, I wouldn't have - how did the saying go again - thrown myself out of bed for eating crackers. Sexy, adorable, I'd been called. It would have to do.

My shirt was neatly tucked in, my pants perfectly creased. The fragrant red wine chicken was already done, the pork legs and yam sliced up and ready to be served, the herbal soup was being kept warm in the slow cooker. Perfectly timed. Just as I was about to turn around to check out my butt, the doorbell rang. My dark eyes narrowed until I heard the deep voice calling my name.

The man was always right on time. That was one thing I liked about him. Okay, one of the many things I liked about him. As I swung open the door, he stood there at the foyer and struck a playful GQ pose, all the time grinning at me. "Reporting for duty, General Wu. How do I look?"

Tall, dark, handsome and grinning cockily at me, he looked incredible. On any other man, black jeans and that tight turtleneck sweater would look great. On him, it looked positively sinful. For once, I saw no use in trying to hide my admiration. "You look good enough to eat and you know it, Ricci."

"Really?" He flashed his wicked grin. "Then, why aren't you taking a bite?"

"Get back, tiger." Giving him a nudge as he came closer, I answered back flippantly. His scent tickled my nostrils again and I could feel the beginnings of an erection pressing down my thigh. It seemed to be an occupational hazard whenever he was near. "You'll break my diet."

"Fuck that." Flicking my hand aside easily, Frank pressed forward, pushing me against the closet door. "That's not a diet. You've been having a self-imposed starvation with meagre sprinklings of boring, unattractive men."

Which was miserably true. How could I date anyone when I kept on coming back to Mr Wonderful himself - who for some twisted, perverted reason known only to him - insisted on waiting for me when I came home from a date! How could any ordinary man possibly hold up to Frank Ricci? Ricci was a sinfully rich, devastatingly sweet, orgasm-inducing chocolate mudpie, the kind that could only do you good and definitely the kind you'd regret the morning after. After years of denial, I certainly wasn't going to break my diet for that.

I made a half-hearted protest for form's sake. "They weren't so bad, Ricci."

"Please." Giving a disgusted snort, he sneered, his lips quirking up in a damn sexy sneer. "That jerk Robert and that weenie Dec. That limp dick, Steven. When are you ever gonna date a real man?"

Not one to be intimidated, I countered stare for stare. "You see any around, Ricci?"

It was a direct challenge and I knew he wouldn't back down. Eyes flashing, he moved forward and cornered me against the door. The length of his hard, sculpted physique pressed against mine and my breath caught. A different glow had come into his eyes, a glow that I could only describe as predatory. I'd seen it used on other men before and I always thought that I'd be immune to it. I was wrong. One look from those devil eyes and I was all ready for some hot man-lovin'.

"You want me to show you how much of a man I am?" he whispered, his firm lips barely a hairsbreadth away.

I knew how much of a man he was. He didn't have to show it to me because it was pressing down my hip, hot, pulsing and... thrillingly large. Faced with the reality of a hard piece of meat burning down my hip, I was about to throw my diet out the window and devour the feast of masculinity being offered to me when the doorbell rang. And my sanity returned.

"Ricci. The doorbell." My voice practically croaked when I spoke. For the first time, I was glad that my parents had the knack of coming at an inopportune time. The times that they had interrupted me from achieving the big O were legend.

His lips quirked up a little. "Fuck that."

"It's my parents."

The look in his eyes changed and he took a step back, releasing his hold on me. What I always termed as his devil-smile returned. "Your parents won't always be around, little man."

For old time's sake, I invited Amy over. Not only was she the apparent victim of my parent's matchmaking attempt, she was also my best friend. A slim, petite 5'4", Amy Chang perpetuated the myth of the gentle, submissive Chinese beauty, her delicate features and thickly lashed sloe eyes charming the hell out of the gullible men in New York before they realized that behind the silky white skin and the gentle manners was the original Dragon Empress who fully intended to rule the roost. As a result of her inability to find a suitable mate who could withstand her, she remained resolutely single.

It took barely minutes to explain before Amy fully understood what was going on between us. A few minutes before the fallout, I'd called her to brief her on what's happening. Loyal friend though she was, Amy Chang couldn't resist a few juvenile jokes at my expense. "Frank and Michael sittin' on a tree."

"Nothing's going on between us so stop it," I complained in a furious whisper.

The meeting with my parents had gone on without a hitch. Seeing that Frank was keeping my parents well entertained in the living room, Amy pulled me aside into the hallway. "I couldn't help it. You two look so great together. And here I thought you'd finally got the balls to leap into the sack with Mr Hubba-hubba Ricci."

"Well, try helping it. He's only doing this as a favour to me. A huge one at that." Angry at myself, I shoved my hands in my pants in frustration. "And knowing him, I bet I'm gonna pay in spades."

A sly smile lit up Amy's delicate features. "You sure Frank doesn't want to remain in that role forever?"

"Stop that." Looking to see if Frank had heard, I confirmed for myself that he was still telling one of his many amusing anecdotes and started hurrying Amy down to the kitchen.

"Hey, what's the hurry!" Amy giggled. "The hunk's behind us."

"Amy!" Running my hands through my hair, I sighed. "C'mon, Amy, you and I know it's never gonna happen. Me and Ricci, we're a disaster waiting to happen. One, I don't want it to ever happen. Two, the man only wants a satisfying romp in the hay, the sink or the next flat surface he finds. Heck, he'd fuck anything in pants if he could. Once the deed's done, we'll be over and I don't want that. I bet the word relationship would have him screaming out of the house."

"You're such a liar! 'I don't want it to happen'," she mimicked my voice and gave in to another fit of giggles. "C'mon, we're talking about Frank Ricci. Even knowing he's gay, I'd jump his sexy bones in a sec. Any woman in New York probably would."

Seeing that she wasn't going to stop, I tugged her into the kitchen. That's for telling your friend your secrets. Since we were kids, we had been friends but ever since she found out about my ... feelings for Frank, I'd seriously reconsidered having her as a friend. Putting on my fierce face, I growled at her. "Stop it, Amy."

Wiping her eyes, Amy let out a gurgle. "Oh, you love the man so much it's driving you totally daft."

"Shut up," I gritted out.

Sensing that I was in earnest, she subsided. "Why don't you just admit it to him? I bet he already knows. Frank's not stupid, you know. Big dick and cute ass aside, he strikes me as a highly intelligent creature."

"Stop it." My best friend ogling the man I loved certainly wasn't an edifying thought and stupid me, I couldn't help feeling jealous. Since Joseph had popped into my life, I had been plagued by the demon of jealousy almost daily. With his meltingly good looks, Joseph drew the attention of women - and men everywhere he went and I'd be standing beside him, slowly eaten up with jealousy. Each time a pretty girl batted her eyes at him, each time a cute guy gave him his number, I felt like pissing all over Joseph Russo, pinning my name on his chest, marking my territory. The man was slowly, inexorably pushing me towards madness and there was nothing I could do about it.

Leaping up onto the counter, Amy made herself comfortable. "You should just go tell him."

Eyes narrowed, I leaned back onto the kitchen counter. "Tell him what? That I've been secretly in love and lust for him since we first met? That I want to tear his clothes off and fuck him on the kitchen table? That I have been dreaming of stripping him and licking him from head to toe?"

"Hmmm.." Biting her lip, she tilted her head in serious consideration. "You could rephrase that but the gist of it is fine."

"You know why I can't tell him," I said quietly.

"And you know how absolutely stupid those reasons are. How could a guy as smart as you be such a moron about this!" Shaking her dark head in frustration, she gave me a quick bump on my head with her palm. "Wake up, Wu. Stop your God-damned planning and take a chance on the man. He obviously cares for you more than a bit. Why don't you give him a chance?"

"Because I don't want a quick fuck in some dark doorway. I don't want to be Mr September or whatever the month I'm being fucked in. I'm not your typical gay man who just wants multiple orgasms with multiple men. I want him to stay, Amy. And I know damned well he won't." We'd gone over this same issue time and again. And each time, I found myself wanting to give in. After all, having him for a month or so was better than never having him at all - and my willpower could only last that long.

"Stop putting yourself down, Wu." She caught my face in her hands and gave me a soft peck on the cheek. "You're a wonderful man - a little wacky at times not to mention a crazy planner - toss that damned diary away, by the way - but still wonderful and I bet Frank can see that too. Don't sell yourself short."

I gave her a warm hug. "Nothing like my own cheerleader."

Next: Chapter 3


Rate this story

Liked this story?

Nifty is entirely volunteer-run and relies on people like you to keep the site running. Please support the Nifty Archive and keep this content available to all!

Donate to The Nifty Archive
Nifty

© 1992, 2024 Nifty Archive. All rights reserved

The Archive

About NiftyLinks❤️Donate