The Page Turner, copyright 2008, 2009, by Etienne. All rights reserved.
If the idea of two men loving each other and expressing that love in a sexual manner offends you, then you have clearly come to the wrong place. Feel free to leave.
The Page Turner
-6-
The next morning Noah’s eyes opened, as usual, a few minutes before the alarm was scheduled to go off. He rolled over to turn it off and found an unexpected obstacle in the bed. It took him a long minute to figure it out, but when he remembered, he turned the alarm off and addressed his attention to the man lying next to him.
Tom was lying on his back, morning wood pointed at a forty-five-degree angle toward the wall of the bedroom. He leaned over, took the erection in his mouth, and began to work on it. After a minute or two, he realized that Tom’s hips were thrusting the erection in and out and he looked up for a second. Tom was awake and smiling.
“What a nice wake-up call,” Tom said. “Now move your butt around so I can work on you.”
Later, he showered and dressed while Tom fixed their breakfast. At the office, he settled down in his cubicle to process the day’s work. He was so engrossed in what he was doing that he jumped when he felt a finger jab him in the shoulder. He spun around in his chair and confronted Cindy.
“You snuck up on me,” he said.
“It’s lunch time,” she said. “Want to get a sandwich?”
“Sure. Give me a minute.”
He signed off the computer system and followed Cindy downstairs and out of the building. They placed their orders at the counter of their favorite sandwich shop, and when their trays arrived, they got lucky and found a booth in the corner.
“You look different today,” Cindy said.
“Different how?”
“You look more relaxed than I’ve ever seen you.”
“Three nights of sleep without interruption will do it every time.”
“How’d you manage that? Was the asshole out of town for the weekend?”
“Better than that, I’ve rented Steve’s old room from Tom.”
“Ooh,” she said, “I knew the two of you would hit it off. Have you been to bed with him yet?”
“Say what?”
“Come on, Noah,” she said. “I may have been born at night, but it wasn’t last night. I’ve always figured Tom to be gay, and there isn’t much doubt in my mind that you are, too.”
“How could you know that? I wasn’t even sure of it myself until yesterday.”
“So you have slept with him. As for your question, a girl knows these things, or at least this girl does.”
“Do you think anyone else knows about me?”
“Not a chance, kiddo,” she said. “Most of the people in this office are dumber than dirt when it comes to matters sexual, and they only see what they expect to see when they look at you.”
“What about the choir?” he said. “Do they know about Tom?”
“Some of them have probably figured it out,” she said, “but as long as he doesn’t talk about it, they’re much too polite to ask.”
She had been staring at him intently throughout the conversation.
“Now I get it,” she said. “You’re not just relaxed, your whole body language is different. You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Only to someone who knows you as well as I do. Does he love you?”
“Yeah.”
“Well done, Noah,” she said. “I think that’s wonderful.”
“What am I going to tell my family?”
“Why should you have to tell them anything?”
“If you figured it out, surely my mom will notice something.”
“I doubt it,” she said. “As I just said, most people see only what they expect to see. Your mother will always see you as her little boy. I’d be very surprised if she ever looked past the surface.”
“God, I hope not.”
“Would it be that bad if she figured it out?”
“I’ve told you my parents are Southern Baptists. What do you think?”
“I think that in their case, ignorance is bliss.”
“Exactly.”
“So are you and Tom going to be making any announcements?” she said.
“We haven’t talked about it, but I doubt it. We’re both pretty private guys.”
“Then let me be the first to congratulate you. Noah, I’m really happy for you. If anybody deserves a little happiness, it’s you.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
“How long have you known Tom?”
“Since I joined the choir,” she said, “and that’s at least two years ago. Why?”
“Has he always been so self confident?”
“What do you mean?”
“Tom seems to know precisely what he wants out of life,” he said, “and he’s charted a course straight to that goal.”
“So?”
“I wish I could be like that. Before I met Tom, I only ever wanted two things out of life - to get out of Live Oak, Florida for good, and to get out from under my father’s influence.”
“I repeat, so?”
“I’ve achieved the former,” he said, “but the latter is going to take a while. Heck, I don’t even know for sure what I want to major in at UNF, and that’s kind of pathetic isn’t it?”
“Lots of students don’t know what they want out of college right away.”
“Yeah, I guess. I just wish I could be as sure of things as Tom is.”
“Give it time,” she said. “It will come.”
“I certainly hope so.”
They finished their lunch in silence and walked back to the office. He clocked out at three and drove to his old apartment which was above a garage behind one of the old houses in Riverside. The asshole’s car was in its usual spot.
He turned his key in the lock and walked into the small living room. It seemed more untidy than usual, if that was possible. Virgil, a/k/a the asshole, was watching cartoons on the television.
“Where have you been?” Virgil said.
“Someplace peaceful and quiet, where I can sleep all night without being disturbed.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Virgil said.
“Virgil,” he said, “I haven’t once been allowed to sleep through the night without interruption since I moved in here. That’s one of the reasons I moved out.”
“You’ve moved out?” Virgil said.
“Friday afternoon, didn’t you notice?”
“I thought a couple of things were missing from the kitchen,” Virgil said, “but I figured they were just buried under something.”
“That’s the other reason I moved out, this place is a pigsty.”
“It’s not that bad,” Virgil said.
“No,” he said, “it’s worse. No self-respecting pig would live here.”
Virgil looked around the room, and said, “You think?”
“Yes, I think. Anyway, you can apply my deposit to my share of this month’s light bill.” He had already taken the key off his key ring, and he tossed it on the only bare spot on the coffee table.
“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” Virgil said.
“Move one of your obnoxious friends into my old room. I can think of several of them who would fit right in.”
He turned on his heel and walked out the door.
That could have been a lot worse, he thought, as he drove to the post office. At least that part of my life is over, for good.
At the post office he obtained and filled out the necessary forwarding card, then he went home. Tom’s car was in the driveway, but Tom wasn’t in the living room or his studio. He found him in bed naked and hard, obviously waiting for him.
“I thought we were going to the Health Department,” he said.
“First things first,” Tom said, “or are you tired of it already?”
By way of answering, he stripped and pounced. In the car, on the way to be tested, Tom said, “So, how did it go with the asshole?”
“Let’s just say that I got a year’s worth of frustration off my chest in a few well-chosen words. Unfortunately, they fell on deaf ears. The asshole doesn’t really understand why I moved out.”
“Good for you, babe. Good for you.”
“By the way, Cindy has figured us out.”
“Excuse me.”
He related the lunchtime conversation as best he could remember it.
“Is that going to be a problem?” he said.
“I don’t see why,” Tom said. “Cindy’s smarter than your average bear, and she knows when to keep her mouth shut.”
On the way home from the Health Department, he said, “I can’t wait for the results.”
“If you’re that eager, you could get your broom handle out and practice.”
“Fool. Why would I do that when I’ve got the real thing available.”
“Do you actually still have the broom handle?”
“Hidden in the bottom of my underwear drawer, yes. I still can’t believe I told you about that.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s the most personal thing I’ve ever told anyone in my entire life.”
“At the risk of sounding trite,” Tom said, “who better to tell personal things to than your lover?”
“I like the sound of that. We are lovers, aren’t we?”
“And friends, don’t leave that out of the equation.”
“That too. I’ve never had a friend quite like you.”
“I hope you still feel that way after I’ve spent a few months drilling the solos from the Elijah into your head.”
“When do we start?”
“First, I think we need to take a long look at our respective schedules,” Tom said.
“In my case, there’s not much to look at until school starts in September,” he said. “I work seven to three, five days a week. Other than choir practice and church, I don’t have a schedule.”
“Then we’ll take a look at my schedule and pencil in some vocal sessions.”
“How many?”
“Two or three a week. More, if you can stand it. Early in the new year, we’ll start having extra choir rehearsals so we can accommodate the singers who’ll be joining us.”
“How many of them will there be?”
“I’m going to send word to the Choir Directors at the Cathedral, First Methodist, First Presbyterian, Riverside Presbyterian, and two or three Episcopal Churches,” Tom said. “I’d like to have an extra thirty singers to augment our choir, but because some churches allow anyone to sing in their choirs without an audition, I’ll only talk to Directors whose standards I know and trust.”
“That’s a big group.”
“Babe, it’s a major work, and there’s not much point in doing it if you can’t marshal the necessary forces to do it right.”
“I think I need to start listening to that CD,” he said.
“As soon as we get home, if you like.”
As soon as Tom closed and locked the front door behind them, Noah grabbed him in a tight embrace.
“You haven’t kissed me in at least an hour,” he said, “I’m feeling neglected.”
“Horizontal is better than vertical,” Tom said, pointing at the hallway leading to the bedrooms.
He sat on the sofa afterward, totally relaxed and enjoying the music while Tom was in the kitchen preparing their dinner. Tom set their plates on the coffee table and returned to the kitchen for wine glasses, silverware, and napkins.
They settled on the sofa, eating and listening to the sounds coming from the speakers across the room. They finished their dinner, and remained on the sofa mesmerized by the music. When the piece had finished, they carried the dishes to the kitchen, and put it to rights.
“God,” Noah said, “that was glorious.”
“Not to mention sublime, occasionally thrilling, and a few other adjectives.”
“Do you really think I can pull that role off?”
“With a little coaching from me, babe, you can do it.”
“Okay, I’ll take your word for it.”
“Let’s take a look at that schedule,” Tom said.
Tom went to the desk in his studio and pulled his calendar up on the computer. He added the notation, ‘Noah-voice’ to three time-slots each week for the next three months. After some discussion, he added ‘swim laps’ to a time-slot every other day, and ‘work out’ to two slots a week. Then he printed two copies of the calendar for each month.
Taking a dispenser of scotch tape, Tom pulled an old series of calendars off the wall beside the light switch and taped the new calendars in place.
“We’ll have to revise this when school starts,” Tom said. “What do you think?”
“I think it will be fine until September. As soon as I have my class schedule, I’ll be able to adjust my hours at work accordingly. We might have to reschedule some of these sessions for later in the evening, though.”
“Whatever it takes.”
“I see you’re performing in Orlando at the end of August.”
“Yeah,” Tom said, “at St. Luke’s Cathedral. I’ll need your services for that.”
“Need you ask?”
“Probably not. In any case, my parents live in Orlando, so my Mom and my sister will probably attend.”
“Do your parents know you’re gay?”
“They do,” Tom said. “Mom’s cool with it, but it’s just one more thorn in my Dad’s side.”
“I can’t even begin to imagine what would happen if my parents ever figure it out.”
“Is it truly that bad?”
“They’re Southern Baptists, what do you think? Being a homosexual ranks several steps below axe murderer and child rapist in their eyes.”
Tom opened a desk drawer and pulled out a checkbook. He made short work of writing a check and handed it to Noah.
“I forgot to pay you for services rendered Saturday evening.”
“And I need to write a check for the rent,” Noah said. He went to his room and found his own checkbook. In the studio, he handed a check to Tom.
“Now you can’t kick me out for at least thirty days.”
“Babe,” Tom said, “that’s not even remotely funny. Now that I’ve got you, why would I want to kick you out?”
“I was just making a little joke.”
“Mighty little. Ready for your first vocal session?”
“Sure, why not.”
Tom got up, went to a bookcase and produced two copies of the score. He handed one to Noah and sat down at the piano with the other copy.
“There’s a yellow plastic paperclip on the first page of each solo,” Tom said. “What you have in your hand is the score that Steve was working from.”
“How good was Steve, anyway?”
“He was good, but you’re better. Moreover, you have the potential to be a whole lot better,” Tom said. “Let’s have a go at the first solo, shall we?”
An hour later, he was exhausted. They had run through the one solo a dozen times, and with each run-through, Tom had stopped him frequently to give him pointers on breathing, diction, and so many other things that he had lost count.
“I told you I was a slave driver,” Tom said. “Want to try the next solo before we stop?”
“Yeah, but only if we can spend fifteen minutes or so in bed, first.”
“You drive a hard bargain,” Tom said. “I’ll bet I can get naked first.”
They went straight from the bed to the studio, and spent another hour on the second solo.
“Is it my imagination,” he said, “or was that one just a little better?”
“It was definitely better,” Tom said. “You not only retained the things I showed you about breath control and diction, you managed to apply them to the second piece. On the other hand, maybe it was because you’re standing there in all your naked splendor.”
“Do you think?”
Tom spun around on the piano bench and said, “Sit in my lap and I’ll show you what I think.”
He sat on Tom’s legs, straddling them, and gave him a hug.
“Watch it,” Tom said, “that weapon of yours is stabbing me in the belly.”
“Make it go away.”
“I can do that, but you have to get up first.”
“I’m already up. That’s the problem.”
They settled down into a steady routine. Tom got up at the same time Noah did every morning, even though his own schedule would have allowed him to sleep later. He fixed breakfast, and after Noah went to work, he either practiced at home on the piano, or if he had students, he went down to the church to practice.
Noah was in a state of nervous excitement when he got home Wednesday afternoon and found Tom waiting for him, as usual, in bed.
“You need to make a phone call, babe,” Tom said.
“Been there, done that.”
“When?”
“I used my cell phone the minute I left the office.”
“And?”
“I’m clean, what about you?”
“Clean and disease free. Take off your clothes and come here.”
He dropped his clothes and lay down beside Tom. “I want to feel you inside me, now,” he said.
“No foreplay?”
“Screw foreplay, I’ve been waiting for this since forever.”
“Babe, you haven’t known me forever.”
“You know what I mean, now shut up and show me how much you love me.”
Tom got up on his knees, reached over and found the tube of KY. He squeezed a generous amount onto his palm and rubbed it over his erection.
“Raise your knees,” Tom said, “slide your heels back as far as you can and spread your legs a bit.”
Noah followed the instructions and Tom moved between his knees. He felt a cold, greasy finger first probing, and then sliding inside him. The finger found its mark and his erection twitched.
“I’m going to add a second finger, now,” Tom said.
The finger withdrew for a moment, and then he felt additional pressure as two of Tom’s fingers slipped inside and worked around a bit, stretching his opening.
“You doing okay?”
“Yep.”
“Ready for a third finger?”
“Go for it.”
The probing fingers pulled out and then returned, taking up more space, stretching him even further.
“Is that okay?”
“Fine,” he said.
“Ready for the real thing?”
“Shut up and do it, now.”
“Okay.”
The fingers withdrew, and Tom took his legs and pulled them straight up until his heels were resting on Tom’s shoulders. He watched, fascinated, as Tom aimed his erection at its target. God, it looked huge.
He winced at the sudden intrusion and Tom saw it.
“The head is in, want me to stop?”
“Keep going, please.”
Again, he watched as Tom’s erection disappeared from view. Finally, he felt Tom’s pelvis make contact with his butt.
“I’m all the way in, how’re you doing?”
“I can’t begin to describe it. The way you fill me up is amazing.”
“I’ll give you a little of the old in out, in out,” Tom said. “Let me know if it bothers you.”
Tom began to slide his slippery member in and out, and the sensations were driving him crazy. Finally, he said, “Faster, deeper,” and Tom speeded things up until he was giving his ass a royal pounding.
His own erection, which had briefly subsided with the initial onslaught, had returned with a vengeance.
“Are you doing okay?” Tom said.
“You have no idea just how okay I’m doing right now. More, please. Don’t stop.”
After a couple of minutes, Tom pulled almost all the way out, and then buried his erection to the hilt. He heard Tom grunt, and actually felt Tom spurting deep inside of him. That sensation triggered his own orgasm.
Without breaking their connection, Tom bent down and began to kiss him. Finally, Tom’s softening member slipped out of him, and he was able to stretch his legs out on the bed. Once he had done so, Tom lay full length on top of him, and they kissed again. Tom finally broke contact and rolled over on his back.
“Well?” Tom said.
“Well, what?”
“Don’t be coy. Was it what you expected?”
“I really didn’t know what to expect, but on a ten point scale, my broom handle rated a 1.5 and what you just did was several points off the top of the chart.”
“Flattery, flattery. Does that mean you’re going to give the broom handle an honorable retirement?”
“Maybe I’ll wrap it in tissue paper, tie a little ribbon around it, and save it for when you have to be gone for more than a day, although it will be a poor substitute for the real thing.”
“More flattery,” Tom said. “As soon as your batteries are recharged, I’m ready for reciprocity.” As he said that, Tom ran his hand down Noah’s belly and began to fondle him. “There goes that instant reload again.”
Noah got up on his knees so that Tom could slide over to the center of the bed, then he found the lube and applied a generous amount to his palm. He greased his erection thoroughly and spread Tom’s legs. Tom didn’t have to be told to bend his knees.
He probed Tom with one, then two, and finally three fingers.
“Ready?” he said.
“As I’ll ever be.”
He raised Tom’s legs straight up, and settled in against them. As he guided his erection to its target, he wondered how in the world that thing was ever going to fit. He pushed steadily, watching Tom’s face as he did.
“Are you okay?”
“It’s been a while,” Tom said, “but yes, I’m fine. Have at it.”
He pushed a little harder, and without meaning to, slipped all the way inside Tom and hit bottom. He studied Tom’s face, looking for a reaction. Tom was smiling at him.
“How does it feel?” Tom said.
“Like nothing I’ve ever felt before. You are so tight, and it feels so good. I can’t even begin to describe it.”
“Don’t talk about it, just do it. Hard, fast, and deep.”
He began to thrust in and out, faster and faster. He could hear his balls slapping against Tom’s butt and he giggled.
“What’s so funny?”
“I can hear my balls bouncing off your butt. It sounds funny.”
On impulse, he took one hand and began to stroke Tom’s erection without missing a beat. Finally, he reached a point at which he could not control himself, and with one final and deep thrust, he began to spasm deep inside Tom’s body. He looked down and discovered that the hand he was using to stroke Tom was sticky and wet.
Later, as they lay side by side, Tom said, “Penny for your thoughts.”
“That was beyond amazing,” he said.
“Which did you like best? Giving or receiving, or as the gay boys say, top or bottom?”
“That would be like comparing apples and oranges. I’m not at all sure that one is better than the other. They are both wonderful, but in entirely different ways.”
“Well said.”
“What are you thinking?”
“That we’re both greasy and sticky, and need to take a shower, and that we haven’t eaten.”
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-To be continued-
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Your feedback, as always, is appreciated, be it good, bad, or indifferent.
My stories may be found on the following site:
http://tickiestories.us/Etienne_m.htm
My thanks as always to the tireless Rockhunter for editing this material.
Special thanks go to Roger who agreed to become my beta reader in order to keep this amateur musician in line concerning matters musical, and who has also provided many useful and helpful suggestions regarding plot strengths and deficiencies.
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