LONELY NIGHTS
Written by KayCee
DISCLAIMER: This story is not meant to infringe on anyone's
copyrights. Tim doesn't belong to me, but I wish he did. (really wish
he did)
Many thanks to my many Beta Readers: Suzan, Pam, and Dorinda. If
I missed someone else, I'm sorry. It's been a while since I
wrote this.
Comments are welcome, especially if you find a typos.
The door closed with a quiet snick behind Tim Bayliss,
loneliness swirling around him like a cloak. He switched on the
lights, flooding his room with a golden glow, hoping to drive the
shadows back into the night, and trying to shake off the
moodiness which had descended on him.
Tonight's date, his walk on the wild side with another man,
had him wondering if the whole enterprise was all that wild.
Chris Rawls turned out to be just what he'd expected,
intelligent, funny, and surprisingly sweet natured. The food
tasted great, the wine flowed and he'd enjoyed himself more than
he would have believed possible.
Yet, the evening had left him with a vague sense of
dissatisfaction. What had he expected more, or less, than he'd
received? He couldn't venture a guess. All he knew was that he
wanted to spend more time with the good-looking restaurateur.
And he wanted the kiss they'd shared at the end of the evening to
be repeated, often.
Back at Chris's apartment after dinner, he'd felt mellow and
well fed. They had talked and laughed for a long time, rambling
from topic to topic without a backward glance. His ever -
chaotic thoughts tumbled out without any control, but Chris
didn't seem to mind, indeed, his green eyes stayed alight with
interest and good humor.
The night had sped by, and he had to leave. Tim stood by the
door, holding his coat, watching Chris approached him hesitantly,
his expressive green eyes asking permission before attempting a
touch. Tim swallowed compulsively, nodded nervously, fear and
wanting dancing along his nerves.
Tim sighed. Chris' lips were soft and sweet, his first kiss
barely a feather-light brushing. He wanted more, and followed
Chris' mouth as it retreated, seeking a second, more substantial
taste.
He nibbled along the soft mouth, never expecting kissing a
man would be so sweet. Chris stepped closer, deepening the kiss,
his tongue sliding out to lick at Tim's mouth. Vibrations
assailed his whole body as Chris' tongue mapped the landscape of
his mouth, teasing him. Starting to sweat, his heart pounding,
he shuddered violently, arousal sliding through him fast and
furious.
He continued to kiss Chris for a long time, his back pressed
to the door, Chris' lean hard body in his arms. The scents of
his and Chris' arousal wafted between them, mixing with Chris'
unique smell, nearly overpowering his senses.
Too soon, it became time to decide what the next step would
be. With what little brain power he had left, he tried valiantly
to move beyond the haze of lust to a rational contemplation.
Not tonight. It couldn't be tonight. He didn't want to ruin
their chances by moving too quickly. A certain comfort level was
necessary before he could go further and this was too new, too
different to rush. Chris and what he offered were to be savored,
slowly, like the fine wine they had tonight. Soon -- there was
no doubt he'd be ready soon -- but not now.
Gently pulling away, he looked down as the long dark lashes
lifted on those intense green eyes. Chris' eyes were what first
had intrigued him about the man, so expressive, so easy to read.
"Too soon?" Chris smiled, making it easy for both of them.
Tim nodded, blowing out a deep breath. "Yeah, sorry." And
he was.
"It's okay. I'm glad you let it go this far. There will be
other times."
"Soon," Tim promised.
Chris nodded. "When can I see you again?"
When? He didn't want to leave without confirming that he'd
really see this man again. "Tomorrow?"
Chris smiled at him, pleasure in his eyes. "8:00 again?"
Leaning down, he kissed Chris one more time. "Yeah."
And he'd left, a sense of disappointment and edgy arousal
dogging his steps home.
Once there, he fixed himself a drink and downed it quickly,
enjoying the feel of the fire down his throat. He headed toward
the bedroom, stripping of his clothes, and threw them over a
chair next to the bed.
He slipped between the sheets. Normally he wore his boxer's
to bed, but tonight he wanted to feel the smooth cotton of the
sheets down the length of his body.
Lying on his back, he waited for sleep to overtake him; he
was tired, but restless. A jittery feeling sang along his
nerves, not letting him relax. He couldn't shake the unease.
Maybe he'd expected too much from tonight's outing. Chris
Rawls would not be the solution to his problems, but what he'd
told Frank earlier today had been the absolute truth. He hadn't
been happy in longer than he could remember. Nothing and no one
seemed to change that.
Yes, he'd enjoyed himself tonight and wanted to do it again
soon, but there had been something missing, some elusive quality
he could not catch or name, only knowing he wanted it.
Turning over onto his stomach, his half-hard cock pressed
into the sheets pleasantly. He bucked down, enjoying the feel,
not seriously trying to rouse himself. Maybe he should have
stayed with Chris. At least he would not have had to sleep
alone.
But no, it had been too soon. If he wanted what was between
them to be anything more than just sex, then he needed to give it
some time. He knew only too well what happened when he rushed
into things: he ended up with his heart broken or with cold,
stale sex. Nourishment for neither the body or the soul.
Juliana Cox's sharp, beautiful features came into his mind,
reminding him of what cold sex could be like. Juliana was
exciting and sex had been great, but there was no emotion between
them and he couldn't stand to have her in his house when he was
done with her. It had given him a vague dirty feeling to be
around her when they were done with the sex.
Thinking about fucking anyone made his cock start to fill
more. He was beginning to believe he wasn't going to get any
sleep tonight. Rolling over onto his back, Tim stretched his
long leg out, trying to calm his arousal.
No such luck; memories of Chris' mouth on his and Juliana's
mouth everywhere brought him up to full arousal. Never one to
deny himself, he gave in to his own needs. Time to do something
about it.
He sat up, reaching for the hand cream in the drawer by his
bed, and laid it on the pillow behind him. When he needed to
take care of his own needs, and Juliana aside, that was a lot of
the time, he liked to indulge himself, and do it right. Who
would know or care?
Sliding onto his knees, he sat back with his thighs spread.
The moonlight shining through the big window cast the room in an
eerie light. He closed his eyes and wove a fantasy of a faceless
lover, loving him, caressing his skin softly, with just the
finger tips of one hand.
Slowly, down his chest, his fingers trailed while he allowed
his mind to wander. The faceless lover became Chris for a while,
then drifted to Juliana, but she was eased out by Laura Ballard's
smiling face.
Tim rode with the images, hands caressing his belly, then up
again. There was only one place his mind would not go. A place
he didn't let himself think about even in fantasy. Tweaking his
nipples sharply, he brought his mind back under control. He
would not go there.
The pleasure/pain brought a gasp to his full lips, and
spurred him on. The need was building now, just starting to
invade the edges of his conscious mind. It would get worse. He
hoped to bring it out farther.
Uncapping the hand cream, he poured some in his hand,
letting it warm before applying it to his heated skin. He loved
the silky feel of the cream against his flesh, loved the feel of
his rough fingers spreading it into his nipples. Not able to
hold back a groan, he panted, his head fell back, his mouth open,
wishing for a kiss. There was none to be had.
A thought touched his mind, something he hadn't tried
before, something new. The idea intrigued him, it was so
forbidden, dark. Hadn't someone said he needed to explore his
dark side. He didn't want think about who.
Reaching around to his ass, he slid a slippery finger down
into the crevice between his cheeks as the other hand slowly
stroked his hard cock.
What would it feel like to allow Chris to touch him like
this? Good. It was very good. There were tons of nerve endings
around the ring of his anus. The slippery finger woke them up,
and his hips canted forward. Pleasure of a sort he hadn't felt
before tore through him. He wanted more.
He slid the finger in, not sure what to expect. Not
unpleasant, full, interesting.
What if it were Chris' fingers inside him? If they became
lovers, it could be. The idea didn't appall him at all.
Actually, it turned him on more.
The ring relaxed and let him move in and out. Nice. Sexy.
Arousal grew, his balls tightened. He was getting close.
Need caught him, his movements became faster, more rhythmic.
Panting and sweating, his mind spun out, all control lost.
An image came to him as he crested the huge mountain he was
climbing, a dark face with dark eyes, smiling at him as they
almost never did.
"Frank!" he called as he came.
Falling forward with the force of his orgasm, seeing the
truth in the image, owning it for that second. Tim groaned,
knowing at last what had been missing tonight.
Frank.
But as the final remnants of orgasm left him, so did the
image and the truth he would deny with his last breath.
The scents of sex permeating the bed, the cooling leftovers
drying on the sheet, Tim didn't have the strength to clean up.
He rolled over, burying his head under the pillows and let sleep
take him.