Stuck

Hey guys – like the last few months, I find myself with plenty of half-written stories and nothing ready to publish.  I'll be polishing up a couple more over the next week, including the next chapter of The Himbo Machine.  In the meantime, give this one a read – it's a little on the conceptual side, but I think you'll enjoy it.

-D

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It's getting harder and harder to pretend like I’m still 21.

When I was first started hitting up clubs, I could party all night and still look fresh for brunch. Now, twelve years later, it takes at least an hour before I'm presentable. I've got to stretch, shower, moisturize, do my makeup, style my hair, fill in my eyebrows, pick the right outfit, and take my vitamins. For brunch!

It's exhausting. But what else am I gonna do? Skip brunch?

I work as a bartender – the bar’s called 21, like I didn't already know my clock is ticking. Most of my coworkers are young guys. Other than the owner, I'm the only person here over thirty. Don't tel anyone – I say I’m 29.

I hate that I'll never be eighteen again. Nineteen. Hell, I'd take twenty-five at this point.

My morning routine isn’t everything. I also get waxed, plucked, and tanned. I’m always on a diet. Walking by a bakery is torture. Breakfast is half a grapefruit.

It takes a lot of work to keep yourself young.

It takes a lot of thinking too! I spend hours on TikTok everyday, keeping up with the trends and making sure I don't miss anything. Instagram is for the old gays. I’m gonna stay young.

Yes, I know, I can’t keep it up forever. Like the song says, “And I pray, oh my god do I pray. I pray every single day. For rejuvenation.”

I miss my friends. They’ve all moved along, giving up on the scene ‘cause keeping up their look was too much work. They just ditched out and stayed home to watch movies. Boring ass mofos.

Like my old club buddies Michael and Danny. They’re living this whole hetero-acting life. They’ve got wedding rings, a house, a dog. If you don’t count the anal, they’re barely even gay.

I used to have a whole squad – Michael, Danny, Will, and me. Now Michael and Danny act like straight people, and who knows where Will’s at?

Me... I’m staying gay. I’m staying young. I’m living the fucking life.

Last night I hooked up with this guy. He was dancing with his friends – a bunch of 22 year old assholes who wouldn’t give me a second glance. They reminded me of my crew, back in the day. But Caleb’s only been out to a club a couple times, he wasn’t all jaded and judgemental like his friends.

He told me he almost never goes out clubbing. I told him he should dance every night. It all goes by so fast. Snap your fingers and BOOM, you’re old.

Caleb was cute. Not hot, not handsome... he’s just cute. Youth is all he’s got, and I don’t want him to waste it. He’s kinda sucked in bed, but I don’t care – he’s young, and when he buries that youthful cock in my ass, it means I’m young too.

That's my life now. Searching for guys like Caleb. Sometimes they’re just throwing me a pity fuck, but I don’t care. If you can’t be 21, get fucked by someone who is.

So Caleb and I hooked up last night. The bar closes at two, and I’m off shift at 3. We met at the all night diner down the street. The little bitch was having fries... do you know how much I miss fries?

Anyway, we went back to his place – mine’s nicer, but I didn't want him sleeping over. I didn’t want him seeing me in the daylight. I might want to hook up with him again. As many times as he’ll have me, or until I move on to someone younger.

I hoped he’d be back the next night. I was working behind the bar, keeping an eye out in case he walked in. Taking home the bartender was a real score for Caleb, so I expected him to give it another shot.

The bar opens at seven. It’s usually pretty dead until at least nine, but I don’t mind the calm before the storm. It was just before eight when a guy sat down in front of me.

“Hey man,” the guy said as I cut up some limes. “Can I grab a beer?”

I rolled my eyes. You gotta tell me which beer. This isn’t a movie. I grabbed a Heineken and popped the top, making the choice for him.

“Here you go,” I said, sliding it in front of him. Our eyes met and my heart skipped a beat.

“Oh my god...” I said. “Will, is that you?”

Will, my old club buddy from back in the day. Will, who had fucked off to who-knows-where.

“Hey Austin,” Will said with a grin.

“Hey girl!” I said. “How’re you doing?”

“Good,” he shrugged. “I guess. I’m out in LA now.’

“Model?” I asked, taking a long look at his heavy pecs.

“Haha... no, museum curator,” Will laughed. “You know, what I went to school for?”

I had no idea Will even went to school. I mean, we met at the club. We danced at the club. We were friends... at the club.

“No way!” I said, glancing around to make sure nobody else needed some attention. Our second bartender gave me a nod. I had a few minutes to chat.

“Yeah, I’m just back in town for a couple of days,” Will said, giving me a mischievous grin.

“Oh yeah? What for?”

“Actually... I came for you.”

“Me?”

"I was talking with Danny and Mike the other day,” Will admitted. “I guess they saw you at Pride this year, and dude, I gotta say, we’re all a little worried about you.”

“Worried about me?” I said, picking up a clean glass and polishing it. “I haven’t changed a bit!”

“Yeah, that’s the problem,” Will said, raising an eyebrow. “What the hell happened? You’re still serving beers and dressing like a club kid?”

I bristled. There’s nothing wrong with being a bartender. Besides, a tight v-neck and a pair of booty shorts are my look. Even if I didn’t work here, that’s still how I’d want to dress. I want guys to want me, and this has always done the trick.

Will was dressed... it was totally boring. Jeans that barely hinted at his ass. A t-shirt that hung loose around his biceps. I mean, if he was gonna build all that muscle, he should at least show it off.

“You look great,” I said with pity. “But I don’t wanna look old, okay?”

Will grimaced.

“It’s okay to look a little older, that’s just part of life,” he said. “You’ve got to change. Evolve. Otherwise you miss out on some really good stuff. And Austin... we all think you sort of got stuck here.”

“How would you know?” I said, flipping a towel over my shoulder. “You all left.”

“Look, I found something,” Will said, lowering his voice so nobody else could hear. “An artifact. Something to get you unstuck. Why don’t you come to my hotel after you’re done your shift, we can talk about it.”

“Fuck you,” I snapped. "Just because you all got old... I’m not gonna, okay?” I said, trying to sound confident. Never let them know you care.

“Okay Austin. Look... I’m around for a couple days,” Will said, placing a business card on the bar. “If you change your mind, shoot me a text?”

“I’m never gonna change,” I spat.

“You can’t stay young forever Austin,” he said.

And then he was gone, a twenty on the bar and his ass out the door. I picked up his card and flung it into the trash.

Asshole. Telling me how to live my life.

I got back to work and slowly the bar started to fill up with a party crowd. Soon I was too busy mixing drinks and pouring shots to think about Will.

At least until about 1:30. Caleb was there dancing his ass off, happy and laughing with his crew. That made me feel good, seeing him back here, taking my advice. He came over to the bar about a half hour before close, ordering another round of shots. That’s when I made my move.

“Hey,” I said, putting on my killer grin. “You doin’ anything tonight? I’m off work around 3.”

“Oh,” he said, shifting his weight back. “I... um... maybe not tonight, okay?”

“Got a better offer?”

“Uh... no, I’m just... I’m looking for someone a little more mature, I think,” Caleb shrugged his narrow shoulders. "I mean, you were great, but...”

He took the shots and went back to his friends. I glared at them across the room. What a bunch of snotty bitches. One of them must have said something. I struck Caleb off my mental dance card – no way I was letting that little jerk near my hole again.

I hate being rejected. He wanted someone more mature? I felt my stomach start to twist.

“Hey," I called to the other bartender. “I’m gonna take my break.”

“Dude, just wait, last call’s in ten minutes,” he said with annoyed eyes.

“I’ll be back.”

I moved out from behind the bar and made my way to the stockroom. It’s not fancy back there, but it’s private. I sat down on a keg. Could Will be right? Maybe I couldn’t stay young forever.

But I was young tonight.

I opened up my TikTok, that always makes me feel better. There were a ton of notifications from this dance video I posted earlier. The view count was pretty high... holy shit, it must have gone viral.

I tapped into the comments and started scrolling.

> “boomer lol”

> “is this guy for real??”

> “hey be nice, he’s trying!!!”

> “old ppl are soooo cute lol”

My stomach sank and I started shaking. Fucking trolls. Who watches TikTok just to be mean?

I stood up and walked over to the little storeroom sink. I took a hard look in the mirror and... I had to admit... I wasn’t passing for 21 anymore. Not by a long shot. Little lines on my face, skin doesn’t glow so much, eyes without that innocence and hope.

I hit my breaking point. It was like the whole night was conspiring, showing me I was a fraud.

I was horrified. My face was a mask, and an unconvincing one at that.

But the clock said last call, so I put on my smile and hurried back behind the bar.

Twink after twunk after cub after twink... they all needed one more shot before they dragged each other home. They all gave me a certain look – tonight it felt like we were asking the same question: “What’s this bartender even doing here?”

Last call. Last dance. Lights up. Sweaty boys were headed to the coatcheck, and then home to fuck their brans out.

I wasn’t them. I was suddenly ancient, digging through the trash to find Will’s business card. I needed to send him a text.

> "Hey man, i’m sorry i blew up earlier... you still wanna meet up?”

I hit send and held my breath. After a few minutes, I sent another text.

> “I think i need to talk...”

I started cleaning up the bar and tried not to feel slighted. Finally my phone buzzed. I stopped loading the dishwasher and checked. A text from Will.

> “No worries, let’s talk! Come by whenever you’re done at the bar.”

And then another text with his hotel and his room number.

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An hour later I was at Will’s hotel. It was pretty nice, the kind of place I couldn't afford in a million years. I guess museum curators get paid pretty good.

“Hey,” Will said, opening his door with a concealed yawn.

“Did I wake you up?” I asked, a little concerned.

“Nah, it’s only midnight in LA. Barely past my bedtime,” Will said with a self-deprecating grin. “Like you said, I got old.”

I sat down in a chair, emotional and shaky.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I... I didn’t have a great night,” I confessed. “I got shot down for sex. Apparently I'm ‘not mature enough'. And my TikTok went viral, and all these fuckin' twinks are making fun of me for being too old. And... fuck man, I don’t know...”

Will let the silence hang in the air. The bastard.

“Maybe...” I said. “Maybe I am a little stuck.”

“It’s okay," Will said with understanding. He took the chair across from me and looked into my eyes with kindness. More than I deserved, after the way I acted earlier.

“So what now?”

“Sometimes a guy gets sort of stuck. Emotionally, in life, in his self image. Honestly… it happens to most gay dudes. We finally get out of high school, we finally get out of the closet, and then it’s all parties and friends and dancing. It’s youth and freedom, all at once.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’ve never wanted it to end.”

“And that’s cool,” Will said. “That’s normal. But if you don't grow a little... there’s so much you’re missing out on.”

I sat guiltily. I didn't know what to say. I felt like I’d been caught with my hand in the cookie jar.

“Here,” Will said, getting up and walking over to his suitcase. “I’ve got a little something that might help.”

He pulled out a bottle of whiskey. I didn't recognize the label – it must have been something nice. I mostly drink the bottom shelf.

“Scotch?”

“Close enough. There’s this little distillery in Ireland that makes it. This is a thirty-five year old cask, probably more mature than anything you’ve ever drank.”

“Maturity is overrated,” I said automatically. “Sorry... habit.”

“Yeah, well, enjoy this because they don’t make a lot of it. I found out about it last year – legend says that this whiskey makes a man out of anyone who drinks it. It took me forever to find a bottle, and I had to smuggle it over from Europe myself. I’ve tried it with a few people and I can promise you this... one drink of this and it’ll get you unstuck.”

“That's your fix? A nightcap?”

“A magic nightcap,” Will said devilishly. “When you drink this, your past shakes up a little. Wherever you got stuck, it inspires you to be a little braver in that moment. Liquid courage."

“Impossible.”

“Sure. So what do you say? Want a taste?”

I sighed and stared at the bottle. It wasn’t real, of course, Will probably just wanted to get me drunk so he could fuck me. But still... if it was real...

“What if I don’t like the changes,” I asked hesitantly. "Can I change back?”

“That’s the bitch about time – it’s a one way street,” Will said with a shrug. “There are no guarantees.”

He poured a finger into a water glass.

“It's your call," Will said. “But I think you should.”

I picked up the glass and stared at it. I caught my face in the reflection, distorted and stretched. A preview, I suppose, of what was to come. My old age was coming, whether I wanted it or not.

“Bottoms up,” I said, taking a deep breath.

I slammed it back and almost choked.

My throat burned and my eyes watered. The drink was smokey and strong, not one of the surgery cocktails I usually drank. My stomach was revolting, but I managed to keep it down somehow. I coughed heavily, even as a warm glow started in my abs, vibrating outwards as it continued.

I blinked.

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There was pounding music thundering against my ears. Lights were flashing, a thousand colours playing across my retinas. I stared across a hightop table at Will. But not Will... this person of Will was young. I remembered that shirt... he used to wear it all the time when we...

We were at the club. Me and Will and Danny and Michael. Four cute little twinks, oblivious to age, oblivious to anything. Michael and Danny were making out obnoxiously, practically having sex on the dance floor. I remembered this night, maybe ten or twelve years ago.

Michael and Danny had just started dating. Will was staring past me, making eyes at some guy on the other side of the club.

I was playing with my cocktail, waiting for my boyfriend Chris. He was this older guy... almost thirty! But he took me to really nice restaurants and he didn't have roommates.

“What do you think?” Danny asked, shaking me out of my reprieve.

“Huh?”

“Oh god, are you wasted already?” Michael laughed. “We’re going camping next weekend, you wanna come?”

“Camping?”

“Yeah, there's this festival up the coast,” Danny said, giving Michael's ass a casual squeeze. “We’re gonna go chill in the woods, listen to some bands. Maybe do some mushrooms?”

“I’m going,” Will prodded.

All eyes were on me. I felt my stomach knot up. These guys were just club buddies... I didn’t really know them off a dance floor. Besides, I didn’t know anything about camping. What if I did something dumb?

“Uh... I already promised Chris we’d go dancing,” I lied.

“C’mon man,” Will said. “You can go clubbing anytime. Let’s go check this out.”

Time seemed to slow down for a moment. Everyone was looking at me, but they were moving slow. I smelled a smokey aroma and wondered if I was having a stroke.

My hand was gripped tight around a water glass with a finger of whiskey in it. Suddenly I remembered – this wasn't real, not really. Will had given me the drink and it...

It brought me back. This is where I got stuck.

I remembered what happened – Michael and Danny and Will all went camping. They still came to the club some weekends, but they also started going on hikes and taking trips to visit other cities together and going on wine tours. I just... I just kept showing up at the club. Doing the same dance moves over and over and over and....

And I could change that.

I took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of the whiskey. I tossed it back again. Smoother this time, a little bit smoother.

"Yeah," I said. “Yeah, I’m down for it.”

I could feel the drink vibrating in my gut again, warming me. I tried not to blink. I tried not to let the memory go.

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I was back in Will’s hotel room. But things were different.

For starters, Will was giving me a wide grin.

“Take a look in the mirror,” he said, gesturing at the dresser.

I stood shakily and took a good look. My booty shorts were gone, replaced with the style of a relaxed bro. My tight tee and shorts were substituted with a loose tanktop, a pair of track pants, and a backwards ball cap.

It’s a look.

It’s... it’s my look.

“Bro,” I chuckled, grinning at my sudden change. There was a rush of endorphins, the feeling that whatever had happened, at least it was good.

“You remember both, right?” Will asked. “We’re the only ones who remember.”

I remembered. I missed the camping trip. I dated Chris for a few more months until he dumped me for a younger guy. The bastard – I went on a wild hookup binge to compensate. I’d never stopped, proving over and over that I was worth caring something. I was worth something because someone wanted their cock inside me.

But I also remembered going to the festival. The long weekend with my buddies, the weekend we really became best friends. We camped, we got high, I danced my ass off. I didn't shower for three days, and for once I didn't care. Just existing was enough.

That’s when everything changed. Michael and Danny and Will and I, we weren’t just club buddies, we were brothers. The four musketeers. Sometimes we’d go dance, sometimes we’d hit up festivals or concerts, sometimes we'd just hang out and watch movies all weekend. It was the best time of my life.

I was there when Danny and Michael got married. I drove out to LA with Will, road tripping across the country. But back home after... I don't know, sometime in my mid-twenties I sort of stagnated.

I’m happy, y’know? Serving drinks at the bar and chilling out with my Xbox after work.

I was on a happy buzz, the edible I’d taken before work still working it’s way through my system.

"Dude, you’re totally right,” I said, happy and relaxed. “This is like... totally better than being stuck as some rapidly aging twink.”

“I don't know,” Will said, shaking his head at me critically. “You’re still hanging on to your glory days. I didn’t come all this way just so you’d get stuck at 25 instead of 21..."

Will poured another finger of amber liquid into the glass and handed it to me.

"Let's get you unstuck. All the way.”

I rolled my eyes. What an asshole, like what, I'm not accomplished enough for him? So what? I wanna hang out and get stoned and eat chips.

But it was free booze, so I slugged it back. I winced as it lit a fire down my throat again. The same vibrations inside my stomach... the same heat spreading outwards.

The same blink, and suddenly I was somewhere else.

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I recognized the house – this was Danny’s parent’s place, up the coast in Connecticut. I’d been there for countless weekends, a big sprawling mansion to ourselves while his parents went travelling in Europe. We had some wild parties.

I was wearing a suit. Not my typical laid back style, but today was important. It was Danny and Michael's wedding. I was Danny's best man.

If he wanted me to wear pinstripes, I’d make that sacrifice.

I was standing with Will – Danny and Michael were stuck in a receiving line, shaking hands and accepting dry kisses from elderly relatives. Will and I were sitting on the steps, sharing a beer and talking shit about the other guests. Soon enough we’d be doing photos, and then the real party could get started.

Will was looking wistfully at the happy couple.

“I guess it’s time,” he said, taking a swig of the beer and handing it to me.

“For what?” I asked, taking my own sip and returning the bottle.

“Time to start building a life,” Will said. “The house. The dog. The husband,” he said, taking another sip and glancing in my direction.

I felt nervous as he handed me the bottle. Was I reading him right? Maybe it’s okay for Michael and Danny, but I didn't want to get tied down. I was still young, y’know? I didn’t need anything more serious than my Grindr profile.

“Hey, best of luck bro,” I said. Ignore the question. Avoid the problem.

I saluted him with the beer bottle.

Except it wasn’t a beer bottle anymore. It was a hotel water glass with a finger of whiskey.

That smokey scent reminded me. This was a moment from the past.

This was the moment where I got stuck. Watching everyone else move on with their lives while I avoided anything serious.

I took a deep breath. I could change. I could take the other path.

I slugged back the scotch. I could feel it burning my throat. Vibrating every atom in my body.

“Hey Will,” I asked tentatively. “You wanna go out sometime?”

“Like on a date?” Will asked. He looked so young, so hopeful.

“Yeah,” I said with a smirk. “I mean... you’re like my best friend dude.”

And then I blinked.

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I was back in Will’s hotel room, sitting across the table.

“Oh no...” Will said. I could see his heart drop to the floor. New memories were flooding into our minds.

I looked at him with grief stricken eyes. Just a second ago I’d seen a perfect future. But now?

“Oh my god,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”

Will and I had dated for two years, two wonderful and amazing years. We moved in together, we laughed, we cooked, we went to the gym together. Our life was great – lots of sex and lots of in-jokes.

I still remembered being an aging twink... just barely. I still remembered being a stoner bro, afraid of commitment to do anything with my life. But now I remembered something new.

I remembered Will proposing. Taking me to our favourite steak place, getting down on one knee in front of the whole restaurant. He was moving to LA, he said, and he wanted me to come with him. He wanted me to be his husband.

And I said no.

"I'm sorry,” I’d said, humiliating him in front of all those people. “I’m not ready.”

And then I left. I slept on a friend’s couch and Will moved out to LA. II kept hitting the gym hard, trying to fix my feelings by fixing my body. I stood up from the hotel chair and stumbled over to the mirror. My body had reshaped itself, no longer the skinny twink, I looked like an amateur bodybuilder. I was wearing gym shorts and a stringer top. My life was all about muscle.

I looked over at Will. My life wasn't about him.

I hadn’t seen him in years. Not until he came into the bar where I work. I’m a bouncer there... in this reality.

“You... you look really good,” Will said, struggling against the new memory.

I remembered being intimate with him more times than I could count, but now there was an invisible wall there. Some sort of barrier that kept me from rushing over and sweeping him up in my arms.

“Thanks,” I said, shrugging my thick traps. “I kept up the gym after you left... uh... obviously. I kinda put it all in there, y’know?” I flexed unconsciously, feeling exposed.

“Do you ever regret it?” Will asked. “Not getting married?”

Every night. Oh my god do I pray.

“I dunno,” I lied. “I'm happy. I'm healthy. I mean, I’m buff as fuck, and I get a lot of dick, but still...”

“Yeah, still..." Will trailed off.

He looked at the bottle. There wasn’t much left.

“I miss you,” he said.

“One more drink?” I asked, hoping there was enough.

“Yeah...” Will said, pouring the last drops into my glass. “What the hell.”

He slid the glass in front of me and I held it in my hand. One more shot. Let's see where this goes.

I tossed it back, barely noticing the burn in my throat. There was warmth. Vibration.

The blink.

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Will and I were at a restaurant – our favourite steak place. Ever since Will got me going to the gym, I was eating like a maniac. I’d polished off a giant steak, a baked potato, a pile of green beans, and so much water that they'd left me a jug.

I was packed into a tight white t-shirt and a pair of athletic fit jeans. It was a mature look, classic and simple. Between my growing body and my handsome boyfriend, I was feeling really good about myself.

Will had dressed up. Usually he’d wear a t-shirt and jeans too, but today he’d gone for a pair of nice slacks and a button down shirt. It was making me sort of nervous – he was planning something, and I didn’t know what.

The waiter came by and took our plates. He gave me a hungry glance. Younger than I’d normally go for, but he was seriously into my muscle.

“You wanna get dessert?” I asked, thinking about the cheesecake. My stomach rumbled. They served nice big slices.

“Yeah,” Will said. “But first... um, you know I got the job offer in LA? I'd like you to come with me. And, uh...”

Will stood up from the table and got down on one knee. There was a little box in his hand. He opened it and I saw a little golden band in the evening light. All around us tables stopped their conversations.

But did I want to say yes? Will and I were a good couple – hot, playful, sexual. But a whole life together? I could see my future squeezing in front of me, all the possibilities going away if I committed in this moment.

It scared me. I’ll be real with you, it terrified me.

“Austin Mackenzie, will you marry me?”

Will looked up at me with big honest eyes.

I gripped the glass in my hand. There was a smell, something smokey and strong. Whiskey. I stopped drinking when I started working out seriously, but for some reason...

I was holding a whiskey. Because this is where I got stuck.

This was where I lost him. This was where I’d turned my back.

This was where I had one last chance.

I emptied the glass and swallowed hard. Fire burned through me and a warmth started to spread through my body.

“Yes!” I said, changing my life again. “Yes, I want to marry you!”

I pulled Will up to his feet and gave him a deep kiss. Around us I could hear people clapping. They didn't matter. All that mattered was us, moving forward together.

I felt him slide a ring on my finger and I kissed him again. The moment vibrated through me.

And then I blinked.

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We were home, hanging out at our house in LA. It’s close to the beach where we got married. We had a small wedding, just parents and a few close friends. Danny and Michael flew out to be our best men. The last five years have flown by so quickly.

We’ve got a house... a dog... grown up jobs. I work at an ad agency, Will’s at the museum. It’s a busy life, but we always have time for eachother.

“Look at that,” Will said, holding up the empty liquor bottle. “We killed the whole thing.”

“Mmmm,” I said, taking the bottle from him and putting it on the table. I clicked off the TV. Wrapped my arms around him and kissed his neck. “Looks like you’re stuck with me,” I teased.

“Worth it,” he moaned.

“Wanna go upstairs?” I flirted, tugging him along with me. We stumbled up the stairs, barely able to keep our hands off the other as we headed towards the bedroom. I stripped off my shirt while Will chased the dog out.

“Looking good,” Will said, reaching to massage my shoulders as he took in my muscular torso. “I like this better. That bodybuilder look... it was too much.”

“Yeah, you like this?” I said, bouncing my rounded pecs.

“It looks good on you,” Will said, stripping off his t-shirt. The two of us were a matched pair, the kind of guys you see on Instagram, posting shirtless pics and promoting their shitty protein powder.

We don’t do that shit though. I mean, obviously we’re on Instagram – check out our shirtless pics for a while, decide you’re a little in love with me, but we're not trying to sell you anything.

We just can’t help showing off.

I kissed Will again, slamming his meaty body against the wall and pinning him there. I fumbled with his belt, finally yanking down his jeans and getting my hands on his tight ass. He was wearing this pair of neon green briefs of mine – fucker likes to steal my stuff. He tugged off my sweats and revealed an identically cut pair.

“I fuckin’ love your body,” Will moaned, groping my thick cakes. He shoved me on the bed and I tumbled backwards. “Isn’t this better than trying to stay skinny forever?”

“Toned,” I argued, sucking on his nipple. “I was trying to stay toned.”

“Whatever, you were trying to stay perfect.”

“Yeah, well, I’m way more perfect now,” I said, reaching down and grabbing his balls. I gave them a soft squeeze, letting him know I was in control. That didn’t last for long – Will rolled us over so that I was pinned against the bed. We both knew how this would end.

And his cock was right there, thick and beautiful in front of me. I dove onto it, sucking furiously. Getting him ready to fuck me.

But first I got to suck. I ran my tongue around his cockhead, loving the way it filled my mouth. His scent was musky. Familiar and new, all at the same time. Will moaned loudly as I hit his favourite spots.

After a few minutes Will pulled me off his cock. With one swift motion from his beefy arm, he flipped me so that he could get at my ass. He was pushing into me, splitting my ass apart with his perfect cock.

Don’t get me wrong – we’re open, we invite other guys over to play sometimes – but there’s nothing like your husbands cock.

He knew all my favourite places. All the right ways to move his hips, the exact amount of force to use, the perfect depth to hit. Will understood my ass the way no one night stand ever could. As he thrust in and out of me, I cried out in ecstasy. He knew exactly where to hit.

And I knew exactly what he likes too. I squeezed my ass to his rhythm, his cock jumping every time I hit it just right. After a few minutes he was on edge. Will’s got amazing control, he can last for almost an hour if you don’t push it... but I wanted to push it. I squeezed my ass tight just as he pulled. He didn’t stand a chance. Will flooded my ass with his cum, collapsing on top of me, a hot and sweaty mess.

“Turn over,” he mumbled, struggling to stay engaged. He gets sleepy right after, but he cared enough to fight it. He put his hand around my cock and moved his wrist the way I like it. It only took three strokes before I came too.

We laid there in the dark, two handsome men, utterly exhausted. I think I napped for a while, cuddled up against his thick body. Eventually I woke up and glanced over at the alarm – it was well after midnight, and I could hear the dog scratching at the door.

“What are you thinking about?” Will said lazily, pressed up against me in the night.

“Just... that was amazing,” I said tenderly. "I can’t believe it’s our first time.”

“We’ve done it a thousand times before,” Will chuckled. “But yeah... pretty good for a first time.”

“It’s confusing,” I said. I remembered my old life vaguely. A judgemental bartender, trying desperately to hold onto his youth. Or was I a Peter Pan bro, unwilling to grow up? Or a muscled up bouncer, burying my emotions at the gym.

Will just held me tighter.

“I’m not sure who I am,” I said. “I’ve been so many people.”

“Haven’t we all?”

“Yeah, but...” I said. The aging twink. The immature bro. The brokenhearted bodybuilder. They all seemed so real. But they were gone now. I’d moved past them.

For a few minutes I lay there thinking about my past lives. Releasing each one of them back to the universe. Someone else would live those days.

I couldn’t wait for tomorrow.