Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
I Will Sing for You - 5. Uncharted Territory
Tuesday
“Hey, Chris,” I greet, picking up the phone after the first ring. It’s been three days since I last saw him. I played at the Saguaro Grill for the second time last Saturday night and Chris was bartending. We didn’t get much of a chance to talk, though, since it was a busy night for both of us. We did get an opportunity to talk a few times on the phone in the interim, though. However, since last Thursday when we experienced our first kiss, I had been quite busy preparing lectures for classes, preparing for labs and working at the University Mineral Museum, as well as planning for what I would need to accomplish during my day in the field tomorrow. After all that, I’m very much looking forward to relaxing with Chris this evening, playing guitars and otherwise enjoying an intimate evening with him, whatever it entails. Other than that I have no expectations except letting the evening take us to wherever we mutually decide to go. If it includes sex, then great; if it doesn’t, then we’re not yet ready for that kind of intimacy yet. I imagine that it’ll happen when we’re both ready.
“Hey, Callan. I’m leaving work in a few minutes and bringing supper with me, so I hope you have an appetite.”
“I do. Are you going to tell me what it is?”
“It’s a surprise. Heat the oven to 250° and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Okay. See you soon, Chris. Drive carefully.”
“I will. See you soon.” And with that he ends the call.
Forty-five minutes later, I open the door to see Chris standing there dressed in Levis, a tan denim work shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows, trekker boots, and a rucksack on his back, looking both rugged and handsome. In his hands are two thermal sacks that presumably contain our supper. “Hi, Callan,” he greets me, smiling brightly as he steps into the apartment and immediately heads to the kitchen with me right behind him, eyes focused on the sexy sway of his Levi-clad butt. “These are the best enchilada dinners you’ll ever have,” he says as he removes two Styrofoam containers from each sack, two containing two enchiladas each smothered in a salsa verde sauce, one containing two servings of spicy Mexican rice, and the last one containing a tasty-looking salad large enough for both of us.
I remove two plates and two bowls from the cupboard, two sets of silverware from the drawer, and two Barrio Citrazonas from the fridge, then turn to face him and smile. “This is very thoughtful, Chris. Thank you.”
“I would have been here sooner,” he says as he loads each plate with enchiladas and rice, “but I stopped at home to change.”
“So I see,” I smile, eyeing his attractive lithe body. “You look quite rugged, not to mention exceedingly handsome.” Then I cover each plate with foil and then slide them into the oven.
Fifteen minutes later I am enjoying the best chicken enchilada dinner that I’ve ever had. “Wow. This is the best ever, Chris,” I enthuse. “Thank you very much.”
“You’re welcome, Callan. Mark Ramos is without a doubt the best chef ever.”
“Is he the chef who prepared the angel hair pasta with the green pea & basil sauce that I had the evening we met?”
“The one and only,” he smiles.
“He is indeed a good chef because that was out of this world. And then these enchiladas… What can I say?”
“I’ll relay your compliments to Mark,” he smiles.
* * *
“So, what would you like to do this evening?” I ask after we’ve eaten. “You did bring your guitar, didn’t you?”
“It’s in the car. I grabbed it when I stopped at home to change clothes,” he replies. “I’ll go out and get it.”
When he heads down to his car I begin to clean up from supper.
I hear the front door close a few minutes later, and then Chris enters the kitchen. “Hey, let me help,” he says. So he washes and I dry and put them away. Then I wipe everything down as he throws away the containers.
“So what time do we have to get up in the morning?” he asks when we’re done.
“If we’re up by six, we can be on the road by seven,” I reply. “We have a long day tomorrow.”
He looks at his watch. “Well, it’s going on 10:00 o’clock now, so maybe we should just call it a night and head to bed. I can spend tomorrow night here, too, if you’ll have me, and we can jam together then.”
“I’ll have you for as many nights as you want to stay, Chris. So it’s agreed; we’ll postpone our session until tomorrow evening.”
Giving me a smile, he closes the distance between us, places his hands on my waist and presses his lips to mine. Properly gathering him into my arms, I intensify the kiss, then realize that it’s doing neither of us any good if we’re going to keep tonight celibate. “I’m sorry, Chris,” I apologize as I pull away from him.
“Yeah, I know,” he sighs. “So what have you decided about our sleeping arrangements tonight. I really don’t want you to sleep on the couch in your own home, Callan. If anything, it should be me.”
“Look, I don’t mind sharing my bed with you, Chris. It’s certainly big enough. It’s just…”
“We don’t have to do anything,” he interjects. “I understand.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
So with that, I take Chris’ hand in mine, then lead him down the hallway and into my bedroom.
* * *
As we quietly undress, I can’t help casting my eyes at Chris to see that he is standing nearly naked before me looking amply endowed in a pair of sexy black briefs, the black logo ADDICTED splashed boldly across the white waistband. Then he moves to his rucksack and removes his toothbrush. “Toothpaste is in the left drawer,” I say as he heads into the bathroom, my eyes again following the sexy sway of his very attractive butt.
When I’m down to nothing but my Fruit of the Loom briefs, I follow, then begin brushing my teeth beside him. “Addicted to what?” I smile, my eyes focused on the logo reflected in the mirror as I finish up.
After rinsing his mouth, he gazes into the mirror, meeting my eyes, and smiles. “You.” Then he quietly leaves me alone in the bathroom to wonder, and hope.
After emptying my bladder, I enter the bedroom to see Chris lift the duvet, then slip into bed beneath it and direct his eyes at me as I round the bed to my side.
“Everything okay?” I ask after settling my head onto the pillow.
“Yeah,” he replies, then moves to my side of the bed and presses his lips to mine. Again on impulse, I take him in my arms and intensify the kiss before I realize that I’m doing it again.
“Wait, Chris,” I urge, pulling away from him for the second time.
“Why? I can feel that you’re excited, Callan,” he says gazing into my eyes, our faces no more than a foot apart. “I noticed it last Thursday, too, when we were at the top of the stairs outside on our way here.”
“Thank you for being discreet about it,” I smile. “I was more than a little embarrassed.”
“Why? I get them too, you know. I’ve got one now.”
“It’s what provoked it, Chris. My eyes were focused on your butt as you were climbing the stairs ahead of me. You have a very sexy butt, in case you don’t know it.”
“Well, this is the first time I’ve been told that I have a very sexy butt,” he laughs.
“You do, Chris. In fact, I was totally hooked the moment I saw your incredible body that afternoon at the fountain. And then I find out that you dressed like that for me? Wow… You know how to make a guy feel really special, huh.”
“It worked,” he grins.
There’s a pause, then, “That song you played near the end of your first performance, ‘Falling. Oh yes, I’m falling…’ It was like you were singing it to me, Callen.”
“And you keep calling me back again,” I sing. “The song is I Just Saw A Face. Beatles, 1965. Their Help album. I was singing it to you, Chris. Seeing you out there intently watching me perform inspired me to sing it. In fact, you were pretty much the only person in the audience to me that night. It’s a song about a guy seeing this girl for the first time and the effect that she has on him. It’s how I felt about you, Chris. I had to change some of the lyrics to make it about you. I’m really happy that you noticed.”
He smiles, another smile that reaches all the way up to his eyes when he says, “I think you’re smitten, Callan.”
“I am,” I smile. “And I have a good reason to be. Everything about you appeals to me, Chris. Everything about you excites me. Your smile that reached all the way up to your glistening brown eyes when you approached me at the reception dais that afternoon, and then your genuine interest in what I had to say when we talked at the bar. Everything else—your incredibly sexy body that I didn’t know you had at the time—is just an added bonus.”
“I can say the same thing about you, Callan. You were so… captivating that day; your looks, who you are, what you do… They all captivated me. In fact, I had a motive when I told you about the job; I wanted to see you again.”
“Well, it worked for me because I wanted to see you again too, Chris. And then last Thursday at the fountain… I got to see so much more than I could ever have hoped to see.”
I watch his tongue peek out and lick his lips, his eyes glistening with smoldering excitement as they hold me captive. “There’s more, Callan…” he whispers. “And I want to show it all to you… tonight.”
“Oh, Chris…” And before I know it, his lips are back on mine. With no willpower left, I intensify the kiss and give up the fight to retain our celibacy tonight.
“I’m all yours, Callan,” he purrs against my mouth. “Please make love to me tonight.”
I feel my heart throb with anticipation. “You’re absolutely sure, Chris? Because there can’t be any turning back once we’ve committed. I just don’t want any regrets in the morning.”
“There won’t be any regrets, Callan. I promise.”
“There’s one more thing, Chris…”
“Yeah?”
“After we’ve done it, I’m probably going to end up being head-over-heels in love with you.”
“Suits me,” he smiles. “Now let’s just forget that the world exists tonight.”
- 25
- 9
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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