(DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. It’s important to remember this is all totally fabricated, embellished, and exaggerated for entertainment purposes.)
What are we gonna do when makin’ love don’t make it right?
Lykke Li – Better Alone
Thoughts scattered, mind disarranged. The room was uncomfortably dark, like when dusk crept up on you and the shudders were still open, but the lights were out. This place was plagued with smoke, thanks to me. I gulped down the whiskey and set the empty glass on the sofa cushion beside me. When it fell over, I left it where it lay, a tiny puddle darkening the synthetic fiber.
“Ughhh…” I grunted in agony, grabbing the armrest. When the pain ebbed, I hissed, “Watch your fuckin’ teeth, babe…” She could only say mm-hm. The sound vibrated around my shaft, which wasn’t too bad of a compensation for the discomfort she inflicted regularly.
Tossing my head back over the couch, I took a hit from the dwindling joint and let it arrest my lungs. A welcome emphysema. The bird I’d picked up at the bar with Lou was the worst head I’d had in my life. She kept scraping me with her sharp ass teeth, grating my dick like a block of cheese.
In an effort to occupy my hand, I buried my fingers in her hair and sighed. She was theoretically blonde, but her roots were so neglected she might as well have been brunette. Now she came up for air, grinning and biting her lip; makeup smeared. Drool dropping onto her huge tits. She had gone topless the minute she hit the room, as if she still had to entice me to seal the deal. She had no idea I was keen to fuck her into next week, no ploys necessary. Then she muttered my name and I told her to be quiet.
There were dark circles around her eyes and a botched nose job that left it perpetually swollen along the bridge. I almost offered to pay for the revision, but when we locked gazes, I felt crazily disoriented. Like I was trapped in someone else’s body. I tossed my head back again and sensed her swallowing me. I pictured she was Pez, and instantly felt sick with guilt. I pictured she was Haz, and something about it felt mind-numbingly right. He knew how to take care of me, no matter the circumstance. No matter how gross, no matter how rushed, no matter how inconvenient the act. Always my medicine.
I thought of him swallowing me deeper than this bird could ever dream of. I envisioned my cock brushing his uvula, and fuck if it weren’t a visceral fantasy. Right then, I unloaded. A strangled and shuddering sound escaped my throat. I dropped the jay onto the floor, and I think it was still burning. I opened my eyes and she was gone. Somehow I was stretched out under the covers, dick in my hand, sticky with nut. God, I repulsed me.
Later, I was chilling in my Perth hotel room after finally having dinner with Liam the night before. We ate lobster until we could vomit. During the long-sought-after date, he complained about Danielle and compared her to Sophia who’d been the best rebound he could’ve asked for. Afterwards that we roamed the streets, grabbing a nightcap at a local bar, and by then he was shit-faced. Pissing on the side of the road like a barn animal and talking out of his head. I got him back to his room, barely making it to my own before passing out and not waking until noon.
Now I sat in the center of the bed with the rest of the day free. “Swim Good” was playing on my phone. I flicked through the telly to find a movie. Side Effects was in the running. So was Prisoners. I’d watch anything with Jackman in it. He would always be Wolverine to me, no matter what the plot entailed. I searched further and Oblivion by Tom Cruise entered the competition. Just as I was about to make my decision, a knock sounded at the door.
“Fuck off,” I yelled, too lazy to get up.
“Housekeeping….” an unoffended voice replied, no doubt used to that sort of reception.
“Oh shit, m’soh sorry! One sec! Comin’, comin’!” I had stupidly thought she was one of the boys. There was so much egg on my face just now. I could feel a flush creeping up my throat and knew I was blood-red.
I slung the door open with a “Heyyy there…” and was greeted with a smile. It was a super petite woman whose cart looked bigger than she was. She whipped it around to wheel inside, dressed in neat maid’s livery and an apron that read Crown Towers.
“M’sorry about before…”
“Don’t sweat it, luv,” her gentle Aussie accent assured me. “Happens all the time…”
“Well, it shouldn’t. I was an idioth, yeah?” She popped me on the arm as she passed, in a way that conveyed everything was quite alright. Perhaps a gesture a bit overly familiar for hotel staff.
“I’ve heard it’s pretty good,” she remarked, inclining her head towards the Prisoners trailer playing on the TV.
“Oh f’sure. Anythin’ with Hugh Jackman in it’s gonna be wicked! I’ll put money on it.”
“Glad you’re as big of a fan as me! Now I don’t feel so bad,” she grinned, clearing off the coffee table. Probably shaking her head at all the cigarette butts piling up in the ashtray.
“I’m trying to quit…” I offered preemptively, shoving my hands in my pants pockets, hoping she didn’t think poorly of me. But she whipped around and simply said, “Aren’t we all.” I think she was my soulmate. She was a grey-haired woman, but couldn’t have been older than 40. I think it might’ve been a stylistic choice.
“Y’know, I saw a clip…he really goes off in this one,” I ventured.
“Then I can’t wait to catch up. I think we might’ve seen the same clip.”
“Youh workin’ all day?”
“Off in a few hours actually.”
“Well…I could wait for youh, y’know. We could watch it together?” I had no idea where that came from, but I was down. She seemed like a chill lady.
“That’s mighty generous of you, Zayn,” she huffed, making a funny face. I snickered like a schoolboy. “…but I’m afraid I’ll have to pass.”
“No worries then.”
“You see, I have to run to my daughter’s school for a parent-teacher conference of sorts.”
“She ain’t in trouble, is she?”
“Quite the opposite, actually. She’s doing so well they’re looking to advance her studies.”
“That’s so cool, maan.” I rubbed my eyebrow. “I never really finished school, y’know?”
“I suppose you didn’t have a need?”
“True…” I laughed. “Hey how’d youh know who I was, anyweh? Our security uses aliases for the hotels, yeah? And they never really book us one near the venue, because, like, the fans find it soh easily.” At that she laughed, moving to line clean towels up in the bathroom, and gathering the soiled ones I’d left on the floor.
“Well, Zayn, there’s no mystery, really. Your faces are splattered bloody everywhere around here. I see half a dozen billboards on my ride to work, and half a dozen more on the way home. I’m not complaining. And of course, my daughter is wild about you.”
“Well…with the band in general I suppose.” She peeped from around the bathroom wall with a grin. “With the one guy especially…”
“No, she thinks rather he’s full of himself. She’s more into the blonde—”
“Niallar? Sickkk. He’s a bit of a lady’s maan, that one.”
“So it seems.”
“Hey, be sure to tell her Haz is alright. Like…he’s just a bit of a cheeky chap, but he’s pretty humble, in my opinion.”
“I’ll be sure to relay that,” we laughed.
I gazed out of the window as she worked, listening to the Cranberries’ “Dreams” and eyeing the cityscape across the water. It was arrayed neatly on the peninsula like a Lego-land. Something that belonged in a snow-globe. At night it was quite breathtaking, and I hung on the balcony more than usual to take it all in, just gaping at how lucky our lives were. Imagining up fake scenarios for the lives of the people who comprised the traffic on the roads, as well as the lights in the high-rise rooms. When Divinyls “I Touch Myself” came on I ran to my phone to shut it off.
“All set,” the housekeep sighed. “Anything else I can do for you?”
“Noh, actually…” I grinned. “You’ve been amazin’.” I scratched the back of my head. “Oh! And tell your daughter she’s amazin’ too, and to stay in school, alright? By the way, what’s her name?”
“Natalie,” her face beamed with barely contained pride. It was comforting to see someone love their kid so much and be so eager to speak of their accomplishments. I wondered if my mom did the same when I wasn’t around. Then I thought there’s no way she didn’t.
“I’ll tell Nialler about her, f’sure. And please tell her we said hi.”
“Will do, luv. Enjoy your movie, then.” With that she was gone and the room settled into silence. I flung myself across the mattress and hit play, choosing Prisoners as the winner.
About an hour later I was kneeling on the edge of the bed, heart racing, watching Jackman interrogate the guy he suspected took his daughter. The bloke was mentally impaired so they couldn’t really get a word out of him, but that didn’t spare him. He got the fuck beat out of him anyway. Terrence Howard was alright too, playing a meeker chap than we’d seen of him before, but he was no match for Jackman’s fatherly fury. Sheer animal rage, channeling Wolverine like I’d thought. It was in his blood. And he made that shit seem relatable whether you had a kid or not.
By the time the movie ended, I was starving, searching out the room service menu in the sitting area. A knock landed on the door, and since I had learned my lesson, I went over to open it instead of yelling. It was Haz. He was leaning against the doorframe, grimacing with tears in his eyes.
“Babe?” I said, heart stopping. “Wus wrong?” He just pushed his way inside, shutting the door and hugging me.
“Haz, babe…what’s up? What happened? Youh okay?”
“Think soh? Apparently not,” I muttered pulling slightly away and looking him in the eye. He smelled like frozen yogurt and strawberries, and something else too. “Youh can tell me babe. What happened?”
“It’s stupid,” he shook his head, trying to bury his face in my shoulder again. He smelled so fucking good, sort of like hotel shampoo and cologne.
“I don’t care if it’s stupid. I wanna know…why youh cryin’ baby?”
“Argh…I pulled m’back…” he muttered against my shirt.
“Again?” He just nodded, growing heavier in my arms by the moment.
“Youh take anythin’ for it?”
“Mm…just a few painkillers I got from Paulie. They’re gonna put me to sleep soon. I wanted to be with you in case I didn’t wake up.”
“Huh? Why wouldn’t youh wake up?” I chuckled.
“I dunno…I was just saying…”
“Youh wanna die with me?? That’s soh fucked up…kinda dope though.”
“Yeah,” he laughed.
“Youh want me to rub it down for youh?” I whispered, having much experience in this department. He had back trouble a lot. “That why you’re here?” He could only nod again. I chuckled. “Okay broh…youh know I got youh. Just like old times. It’s noh problem.”
“Fanks,” he murmured, pulling away and heading toward the bed.
“Got your oil?” It was a special warming oil he always used.
“I forgot it when I packed.”
“Want me to goh out and grab some?”
“No, no, that’d be too much. Plus, it’d take forever and I need you now.”
“Shit…alright then. Don’t worry…I’m right here,” I stepped towards him. “Oh, wait, I think I got some.” I moved to my luggage in the corner of the room and dug until I found a travel size bottle of his favorite brand. I used to keep it for whenever his back gave him trouble, but forgot to unpack it after we broke up over the summer.
“Sick…just enough to do the job,” he noted it was half full. As I made the bed, he took off his boots, socks, and pants, then stood waiting behind me.
“What’d youh do today?” I asked, folding the blanket back to the foot of the bed so he could slide beneath if he wanted.
“Just woke up, showered, did a little yoga, had a little lunch, but it all stopped when my back started killing me.
“Sorry about that…”
“Just chilled. Blew the biggest load of my life in my sleep.” At that, he snorted. “Then I woke up ’round noon and watched a movie. Man shit.”
“Sounds like my type of morning.” He came over and sat on the edge of the bed as I stood in front of him. His thighs were out, looking gorgeous and inviting against the black briefs. His bulge was so huge, starkly protruding beneath the hem of his t-shirt. I could tell he already had a semi. I would try to do my job without heading down that road, but from the looks of it, it was going to be unbelievably difficult.
“Youh look amazin'” I noted, rubbing the back of my neck. “Like…really, Haz…”
“I look a carwreck, mate. It’s ok, you can say it. This t-shirt’s shit—”
“I like that shirt—”
“—I didn’t style my hair either.”
“Trust me, I wasn’t exactlyh lookin at the hair…” At that, he smirked.
“Oh I know.”
Now I kneeled before him, planting my hands on the mattress on either side of his hips. I squeezed until my palms hurt, staring unguardedly at his crotch. I licked my lips unconsciously, inching towards the point of no return.
“Eyes up here, mister,” he drawled, tilting my face up with a few fingers.
I did as bade, meeting his eyes, those stupid crystal-like eyes, trying to conceal the leer in my own gaze. He looked dreamy and kissable. Hair tousled; brows bushy. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t made love to him in over a month. My nuts were screaming for me to not stiff them again. Make a fucking move, they whispered. But I couldn’t think like that right now. He needed me to take care of him, and I didn’t want to make it all about me. But if only he could see how blue my balls had been for him a few times over the past several weeks, maybe then he’d have mercy on me.
“Hey…” he said, playfully flicking my lip with his lead finger. My hands slid down onto his silky-smooth calves. He had shaved his legs for reasons I didn’t bother to inquire about. I squeezed the meatiest part of them, suggestive of what I wanted to do with his massive hard-on staring me right in the face. Fuck I wanted to bury it in my mouth…
“Yeah…” I snapped, exasperated with him for interrupting my fantasy. “Youh know what, maan…you’re un-fuckin’-believable…” I met his eyes with an inexplicable frustration.
“I know I am…” I squeezed his legs even tighter for him being an arrogant dick. I could sense the heat wafting from between his legs, leftover from the friction of his clothes. My hand slid lower and I grabbed his foot, kissing my way along the side, letting my lips brush the top.
“No,” he pouted, snatching it from my grasp.
“Yessss…” was all I could think to say, watching him pull his shirt up over his head. “Haz…chill.”
“What? It’s not like it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” Now he rubbed his belly and asked me if he looked fat. He said he had a food-baby. Then he randomly said “Hey, did you know food-baby is in the dictionary now? My friend sent it to me. How mind-blowing is that?”
“I love your food-babies, crazy.” I whispered, bending and kissing his belly, following which he laughed. “Oh God, you’re gonna tweet that, aren’t youh?”
“Of course I will. How could I not? This is vital information, my friend.”
“Whateva…” I traced his butterfly with my fingertips, and he did the same with the tattoo along my collarbone.
“Did this hurt a lot?”
“Noh, not at all, babe.”
“M’thinking of getting something around here.” He drew a circle just above my clavicle. “The bone itself seems like it’d hurt.”
“Since when are youh afraid of a lil pain, huh?”
“Shuddup,” he hid his face with a laugh. I hugged him around the waist, soaking up the warmth of his bare flesh like a junkie. I wanted to taste the blood rushing behind it.
“Babe…” I sighed, growing drunk on the smell of his skin. “I wanna destroy youh…it’s not fair…”
“It is…” he dug his fingers in my hair before kissing the top of my head. “You only want what you can’t have. Otherwise, you’re always taking me for granted.”
The reality of his words overwhelmed my senses. I meditated on the sound of his heartbeat in the center of his chest. Could feel him in the back of my brain. Could sense his nearness stirring my tastebuds. I lifted by face and kissed his pecs repeatedly. Lips landed slower and slower as I tried to savor the action, feeling my sweatpants grow tighter around my crotch.
“I came here for help, but now you’re just looking for trouble…” he grumbled. Talking shit, but not moving a muscle to stop me.
“You’re deliberately torturing me. Soh stop me if youh want…” I muttered against his chest, half of the words lost in my brain-fog.
“Can I take my briefs off?”
“Abso-fuckin-lutely…” I dragged my mouth away as he rose; sitting on my haunches like a jittery rabbit.
I gazed nervously up the length of his body, and from this angle he looked like the descendant of a Greek god. Herculean in stature. Long and lean. Gorgeously tan. Inked in all the right places. Soft in all the right places, hardening before my very eyes. I wanted to suck on his salty sweetness until he came down my throat like a geyser, but knew now was not the time. I needed to be there for him until he felt better, and then maybe we could work something out after he was feeling 100% again.
“I’d let youh punch me in the face right now,” I said standing. That earned me a laugh and a feigned punch. He made the sound effects with his mouth. Now I slipped my hands down the back of his briefs, grabbing his ass like two fleshy stress balls. Lifting and separating his cheeks until he giggled.
“What?” I made fart noises each time I squeezed. “Aw, babe…this is my happy place. Don’t take it away from me…”
“You’re crazy. And engaged…”
“Am I?” I panted, massaging his ass until we both grew weak-kneed.
“Very much so.”
“Let’s just forget about that, then. It’s just youh and me …” He didn’t want to deny me, but he didn’t want to surrender to me either. “Do I confuse youh?” I asked, stroking up his waist with feather-soft touches. “Huh?” He just nodded. “Well I can’t keep my hands off youh. I miss makin’ love to youh…holdin’ youh…eatin’ youh…all night…”
“…but we’re past that now.”
“I know…” I conceded woozily. “But I still miss it. And youh shouldn’t get naked in front of me anymore.”
“Yeah….” I could feel him yielding. Micro-expressions let me in on what he was feeling. He was becoming less obstinate the more I talked, so I vowed never to shut up.
“I can’t believe the things youh used to let me do. Youh should be ashamed of yourself. Huh? The places I used to put my mouth? My tongue?” He was adorably trying to suppress what he was thinking. I slipped his briefs off his boney hips, dragging them down his thighs and out of the way. He kicked them aside, swinging cock nearly hitting me in the face.
“Remember when I would take care of youh? Hm?” I stood up and held onto his waist, pulling him to me, ramming our crotches together. Now our faces.
“Like no one else…” he conceded with a whimper, cheek brushing mine.
“I used to dream about you almost every night.”
“I still dream of youh. Kissin’ all over…” I grinned lazily. “I used to get so turnt on youh…soh messy…”
“Keep talking…” he licked those blood-red lips. They were sensuously curved. Almost wicked-looking. We were bewildered as fuck. I was trying to plant my thoughts into his mind.
“I worship your body…” At that, he grabbed my shirt at the waist, nearly ripping it.
“Want me to take it off?” He nodded, forehead against mine. I pulled it off and slung it aside. We stood skin to skin. Now he half-shut his eyes, jutting his face pleadingly towards me, wanting me to be the stronger person and spare him.
“Lay down, baby. I promise not to do anythin’ youh don’t want. Only a massage for now…” Before he climbed on the bed, he paused. I grabbed his face with both hands, steadying his gaze and drinking it in like a tonic. “I’ll do whatever youh want, okay? If youh want to stop, we can stop. If youh want to keep goin’ just say the word.”
His mouth parted, and he leaned forward, as if for a kiss, but stopped a few shaky millimeters from my lips. I could feel his breath mingling with mine. Hearts raging. I broke away so he could get in bed.
There he lay on his stomach, turning his face away from me. I shut all the blinds and turned off all the lights except for the TV, then put on a bit of calming spa music. Making it legit. Sort of like the stuff he listened to when he did yoga, always trying to get me to join him. I slipped my sweats off and climbed onto the bed beside him, kneeling at his hips in nothing but my briefs.
“Youh okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, it’s ok…” He was still facing the empty side of the room like a wounded bird.
“Will youh look at me?”
“Ok…” he flipped his face to my side, smiling briefly with his eyes before shutting them.
I drizzled the oil liberally down his spine, watching him flinch from how cold it was. I blew the heat of my breath along it to warm him, following which he remarked it felt good. Now the first real touch was like a resurrection. An electricity surged through my hand, later tingling at my cock. I let my fingers glide over his oily flesh, as if he were made of a precious stone I sought not to deface.
The idea of massaging him made me so giddy I could pass out. I straddled him, sitting comfortably on his ass. Now I slid both hands together up the small of his back to shoulder blades, slowly applying pressure. He groaned softly, lifting his hand to press against his mouth.
I slid my hands back down before applying more pressure and heading up again. His gasps were timid, like he was frightened to let me hear. I sought to bring it out of him, so I shifted off his ass and settled at the side of his hip again, running my hands sideways across his waist and dipping around to his belly. Squeezing his abdomen and the top of his hipbones. I could see his stomach flexing. See him arching his back for more. After I gave his back and neck a thorough rub-down, kneading every inch of his muscles and loosening him like a pro, I drew my attention to his glorious ass, propped up for me like a full-course meal. Completely uncovered.
My hand trembled above it, but I stopped myself, knowing where it would lead. Instead, I moved down to his feet and drizzled oil onto his reddened soles. He moaned the second I touched them, not expecting it to become a full-body care session. He lifted his foot and I dug my thumbs into his arch, making him squirm. Pulling on his toes until he gasped. Twisting them until they curled. I worked the kinks out of one foot and ankle before moving to the other. By the time I’d finished, he had both legs up, swinging his feet with a sated ease.
“You’re sooo good at that…” he mentioned, biting his fist. I rubbed his calves out before straddling them and working my way up his slightly parted thighs. They rocked as I pressed down into them, and he was aware of where I was headed. I could see him preparing himself. Bracing for my touch. Muscles flexing. Hole probably aching for me.
(Thanks for reading!❤️)