Heights 3

I pulled away from Dylan. I could still taste his tongue in my mouth when I asked, “What are you doing?” My back was pressed up against the railing of the balcony. If I leaned back any further I might’ve fallen more than ten floors to the bottom.

Dylan started smiling. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand “What’s wrong?”

“You know what’s wrong. What did you do that for?”

Coming close to me again, the sharp, sweet smell of him coming into my nose, the memory of his lips pressed against mine and how good they felt swelling inside of me, just like my dick was swelling quickly in my jeans, Dylan answered me by kissing me again, harder this time, longer. Again, I didn’t do anything to stop him. He bit my bottom lip, sharp enough to make me bleed, but I didn’t care. I grabbed his ass and squeezed each individual sphere very hard. Reaching into the tight waistband of his white briefs, I found his thin, slightly hairy ass crack with my middle finger and went inside, finding his button-sized asshole rubbing my finger around it a little bit, pressing against it a little bit to see if it would open up, but it was too tight. Our dicks rubbed against each other through my jeans and his underwear briefs, creating a friction that was pleasurable and painful a little at the same time. Dylan pinned me against the railing, nothing but air behind me, and for once I wasn’t afraid of falling.

Dylan stopped kissing me and began to unbutton my jeans, but I stopped him. “No,” I said. “Stop.” Of course that word meant nothing to him. He succeeded in prying open my pants and reaching inside of them, searching for my hard dick. When he found it, he began to stroke it, slowly at first and then gradually more roughly. My knees buckled and my ass clenched tightly together. I was about to close my eyes and go with the flow, but Bryan’s face popped into my mind. I snatched Dylan’s hand away and quickly buttoned my jeans before he had the chance to try something again. “I can’t do this.”

I hadn’t noticed how dark it had gotten all of a sudden. A few minutes ago there was still a red-orange sunset in the distance, now the sky was becoming a bluish-purple that got darker by the minute. “You can do anything you wanna do,” Dylan said. Yet he did take a few steps back. My dick still throbbed violently in my jeans.

“I have a boyfriend at home waiting for me. I was supposed to be back home already a while ago.”

Dylan shrugged. “So, what?”

“I don’t do this kinda thing with people I don’t know. I mean I just met you today and already…”

“But you like me,” Dylan said, “and I like you. So I’m still not seein’ what’s the problem.”

“How can you like me when you don’t even know me?” I asked.

“How long do I have to know you before I know you?” Dylan countered back.

“A lot longer than two hours.”

“You don’t like me?” Dylan asked, already knowing what the answer was going to be.

“It’s not that. It’s just that I’m already with somebody and I’m not the kind of person that just goes from dude to dude like that. Maybe if things were different…”

“Things are different,” Dylan said. “When you sign that contract tomorrow you’re gonna be sayin goodbye to that old life you used to know. It’s gonna be a whole different story.”

“Being a model isn’t going to change my life forever,” I told him.

“Well, if it doesn’t, it means you’re doin’ somethin’ wrong. You might think I’m the kinda dude that just goes and fucks whatever is walkin around, but I’m not like that, whether you believe it or not. I mean, I see a whole lotta hot dudes…and girls, and usually they’re the ones chasin’ after me, not the other way around. But you were the first person in like a long ass time that I saw and actually paid attention to. And that doesn’t happen to me often. So don’t just think that I’m just trying to get at you because you’re the new guy or something. I actually like you. And when I want something, I go after it hard.”

“Even if messes things up for other people?”

“How long have you been with your boyfriend?”

“Pretty much since the ninth grade,” I told him.

“Fuck. Don’t you think that’s a long-ass time to be with one person? He must be hot as fuck.”

“To me he is. He’s my best friend. He’s probably one of the only people I’ve known that has ever given a fuck about me. I’m not just going to drop him off on the corner because I met somebody that was hotter…” I stopped myself before I finished my sentence.

“So I’m hotter than him?” Dylan asked, smirking. He leaned against the sliding glass door. The very last few rays of sunlight shone on his muscular, naked chest. I couldn’t help but stare at how perfect his body was, how perfect everything about him was.

“You’re basically hotter than anyone I’ve ever seen before,” I responded.

Dylan shifted his weight from one side to the other, almost as if he were posing in front of a photographer. I could see the bulge in the pouch of his briefs get bigger. “So how come you don’t wanna touch me then?”
“I already told you why.”

Dylan smiled one more time, almost a smile of defeat, and turned around and headed back into his apartment. “Come on,” he said. “I’m gonna take you home.”

Those were the words that I wanted to hear and the also the same words that I didn’t want to hear. I didn’t want to go home, but I knew it would fuck things up already then they probably were if I stayed and did with Dylan what was going through my mind. I just stayed on the balcony for a minute, and looked off into the distance, at the twinkling lights that looked like stars that fallen to the ground. I should’ve been happy. I should’ve been excited, but honestly I wasn’t. All I could feel was this overwhelming feeling of guilt and disappointment.

* * *

“Are you mad?” I asked Dylan.

“Why would I be mad?” He didn’t sound upset or anything like that. Maybe he was just a really good actor, or maybe he really wasn’t mad.

We were about ten blocks away from the subway station. Dylan had told me that he would take me all the way over to Orangewood, but I told him that it would just be best if I caught the train instead. Even if he didn’t feel awkward about what had happened between us, I did, and also I didn’t want to risk the chance of Bryan seeing him. And even though it was going to take me about an hour to get home, I needed some time to myself to be alone with my thoughts.

“Sure you don’t want me to take you home?” Dylan asked. When I looked up, I noticed that we were already at the Twelfth Street Station.

“No, that’s okay…are you still going to go out with your friends tonight?”

Dylan looked at me very seriously with his piercing, hypnotic light-colored eyes. “What’s the point of going if you’re not gonna be there?”

I didn’t know what to say. Dylan smiled, patted my leg and said to me, “Don’t get lost on the way home. And tell Bryan I said hi.” My heart skipped when Dylan said Bryan’s name.

“Thanks for the ride,” I said. I opened the door and got out. It had been a lot warmer before we left Dylan’s apartment, but now it had gotten a little bit colder. I waved goodbye and headed in the direction of the station. The whole time I felt like Dylan was still parked along the curb watching me. I turned around to see if it was true, and it was. His sleek, silver BMW was still parked along the sidewalk and he was waiting for me to go down the stairs.
It only took about five minutes for the train going back to Orangewood to come. As I got on the train and made my way back to the back of the crowded car, past the homeless looking people that smelled like stale beer and sweat, past the elderly people who stared directly in front of them trying to ignore everybody, past the loud-mouthed teenagers, I immediately began to feel regret. I wished that I wasn’t going home.

Even though I did want to see Bryan, a part of me didn’t want to go back to our little shabby one-bedroom apartment, back to our fucked up neighborhood. I wished I had stayed with Dylan. I wish he had said something or done something that would’ve convinced me to stay with him. As the train pulled out of the station, I noticed a billboard on wall of a very handsome shirtless dude with a cute dark-haired girl pressed up against his chest. It was an ad for Venice Jeans and when I saw it, I immediately noticed the guy in the ad; I had seen that tightly-chiseled chest only half-an hour ago, and I could recognize that face anywhere. It was Dylan. It was no doubt that it was him. I chuckled to myself. No matter how I tried to get away from him, somehow or another, there he was.

* * *

I was afraid to go inside of my home. I hadn’t told Bryan that I was coming and he wasn’t expecting me; I didn’t know if he was going to be happy to see me or real pissed off that it had taken me so long to get home. Slowly I turned the key in the lock and opened the door, stepping inside quietly. None of the lights were on, so I switched on the living room light. When I switched it on, I was immediately aware of the difference between my apartment and Dylan’s. There was so little space where me and Bryan lived. We barely had any furniture: an old couch that my mother had let me have, a small TV that only got a couple of channels. Everything in here looked so bland and useless in comparison to all the nice things Dylan had. Once again, I was kinda starting to regret that I had come home.

“Bryan, are you here?” I called. He didn’t answer back. I went into our ultra-small bedroom, which basically consisted of a bed just big enough for the two of us to both be able to sleep on without falling off the sides and a small drawer where we both kept our clothes.

It was empty. Bryan wasn’t there. Where was he? I knew that I should’ve called him earlier when I was at the subway station to tell him that I was coming home. I thought about calling him now, but decided against it. He had probably just gone to the store or something and would be back in a little while.

I took what felt like an hour long shower and brushed my teeth for about ten minutes, trying to erase all evidence of Dylan out of my mouth, not because I really wanted to, but because I didn’t want Bryan to suspect anything. I dried myself and changed into a clean pair of underwear, almost like the ones Dylan had on when we were kissing on the balcony of his apartment. I went to the bedroom and laid out flat against the bed, remembering the deep, rough, passionate way Dylan had kissed me, the way his naked, beautiful chest felt against mine, the way his cock felt against mine, the way his tight ass felt inside of his underwear.

Thinking about Dylan’s beautiful body made my dick stiffen for like the fifteenth time that day. My dick strained against my tight underwear, begging to be free. I reached in and tugged it out. It throbbed wildly in my hand. Spitting in my palm, I started to work my hand up and down my thick shaft, my toes curling and my chest heaving up and down as I thought about Dylan, how my dick would feel in his mouth, how his ass would taste, how his dick would feel in my ass.

I pulled off my underwear completely and began to jack myself off harder and faster while I messaged my balls and asshole, imagining that my fingers were Dylan’s tongue licking my hairy nuts and wiping my ass crack clean. I sucked my middle and index finger, each one smelling like my ass, and I imagined my mouth being stuffed by Dylan’s huge dick, of me taking him all the way into my mouth until I couldn’t breathe. I took my fingers out of my mouth and worked them up into my ass. It was a bit hard to do at first, but once they were in, it felt great. I rapidly stuck my fingers in and out of my asshole trying to stretch it open as far as it would go.

I could feel myself getting ready to nut, I dug my fingers into my ass as deep as they could go and kept them there. My mouth was open in a silent scream and my back was arched back so far that I was in an upside down U-shape. Just as I was about to cum, I heard the front door open and someone come inside. I snatched my fingers out of my ass and sank down on the bed, exhausted, anxious, and a little embarrassed all at the same time. “Josh?” I heard Bryan call. “You here?”

Pulling back the blankets, I got underneath the covers, caught my breath a little and said, “Yeah, I’m in here.”

The bedroom door opened and Bryan entered. He was dressed in a leather black jacket that I had only seen him wear maybe twice the few times we went out, and a pair of nice-looking dark blue jeans. He was carrying two fast food bags in each hand. Bryan looked about as surprised to see me as I was surprised to see him. “What are you doin’ here?” he asked. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

“I decided just to come home.”