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    Sam Wyer
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  • 4,515 Words
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

Cal - 5. Chapter 5

Hi, so, previously I was experimenting with the times publishing feature, but I don't like how it works, so I'm just going to post stuff 'normally'.  The down side of this is that you'll have to wait a bit longer for the next chapter because I'm going away for a week or so.  I'm sure you'll manage :)

6.30am is fucking early. The alarm waking me up was insistent to say the least, and Davey was apparently already up as I was in bed alone. Having hit the alarm in several different ways before it shut the fuck up, I got out of bed and found some clean boxers. Making my way towards the kitchen, I was accosted by a single bark.

“Hi Scarlett” I said, as if the dog could actually understand me, before she trotted past me and into the bedroom - which I assume she believes is actually her bedroom. In the kitchen, Davey is getting stuff out for breakfast.

“Hey” he says, “you're up!?”

“Yeah, apparently.”

I'm guess I'm maybe 35% awake.

“And still pretty - even if you are in a bad mood. I guess you're not a 'morning' person?”

“Davey, this isn't the morning - it's still the middle of the fucking night.”

I don't think I've ever actually been awake at this time before, unless I hadn't been to bed.

“OK then.”

He seemed amused by my general annoyance at being up so early, and gave me a big hug and kiss. The sad thing is, it did make things feel a bit better. I watched as Davey made the coffee machine actually make coffee, and he ran through his usual day.

“So mornings are quite busy - Scarlett will want to go out for a walk after breakfast, and then Barry will be here at 7.45am. I'm at work all day, but Jen will be here from about 11.00am. I'm usually finished by 6.00pm, but come over and meet me at 3.00pm and we can get some shopping done. What are you're plans for today?”

“What? I have no idea. Who are Barry and Jen?”

This was a lot to take in so early in the day.

“Oh, right, yes. Barry is my driver, he picks me up and drives me to the office.”

“Of course, you have a driver. How stupid of me.”

I mean, really, who the fuck has a driver?

“And Jen is my housekeeper, she keeps the place clean and tidy, cooks for me sometimes, looks after Scarlett when I'm at work, and generally makes coming home a nicer experience. Although if you’re here, then that’s going to be even better.”

“Is there anyone else? Like, maybe someone to carry your bags, or the door opener guy so you don't have to do it yourself?”

“Yeah, I know, it's kind of weird, but I'm used to it. And no, there's no-one else.”

The morning passed by quickly, right up until Davey left for work. As stated, Barry arrived at exactly 7.45am, and Davey left me and Scarlett in the apartment. Scarlett obviously thought that this was strange, and kept following me around as if she didn't really trust me.

I made more coffee - now that I knew how - and sat on the sofa flicking through a million channels of shit TV. Not like a whole TV channel with pictures of shit, that would be weird. But I bet there is one. Scarlett came and sat on the other end of the sofa. I've got no idea if she's supposed to do that or not, but there's no fucking way I'm going to try and tell her not to. And then it started. Damn my own head. Sat on my own in an apartment with no money, no job, nothing to do all day, and no plan for the future. Apart from the nicer surroundings, things weren't ever so different to my crappy bedsit life.

I mean, just how long could this go on for? Davey, obviously, is some kind of god, the starring role in a fantasy life I never even knew I wanted until it arrived. But the world isn't that kind. At least, my world isn't that kind. Don't get me wrong, I know that the universe doesn't hate me - it just doesn't care. Davey, on the other hand. He just might care. But I'm not sure what this thing is. It's real fun, in fact, it's fucking awesome. But what is it, really? He left me some cash in case I needed anything before we meet up later this afternoon, which was nice of him. But there is a bit of me feeling like he's just bought me for another day. Oh god, am I in Pretty Woman? You see what happens when I have too much opportunity to think? In just a few minutes I've managed to convince myself that at best, I'm basically a fucking prostitute. But then what other sort is there? Davey already has someone to drive him, and someone to cook and clean for him, and now he has someone to fuck too. This was a major downer.

Maybe I should just leave. I sort of didn't want that idea to be there, but the thought was most definitely there. And I'd be lying if I said that I hadn't made a quick appraisal of how much money I could make selling the stuff in this apartment. Yes, OK, I know. But I never pretended to be a ‘good’ guy. I picked up the cash and counted it, there was £200. What the fuck did he think I would need to buy in 7 hours that costs that much money? Trying to convince myself that maybe, just maybe, things won't all go to hell, I got dressed, took the cash, and left. And yes, I also took the set of keys Davey had left for me too. I knew that I needed to try and clear my head, so I headed for the shops. Just one shop actually. I needed to go for a run, so I bought myself some compression shorts, normal shorts so I look more ‘acceptable’ as the compression ones don’t exactly leave much to the imagination, t-shirts and trainers. The trainers were by far the most expensive item, and everything else was pretty much as cheap as I could find, so that the £200 covered the whole lot. Oh, look at that, seems like I could take the money after all.

A brief stop back at the apartment to get changed, and then I was out for a couple of hours. I really did need to try and clear my head, but also, I didn't really want to be there when Jen arrived. There's always been something kinda magic about running. I feel so isolated and focussed, in control, and free. It's an amazing feeling. I see people running wearing headphones and listening to music, or talking to other people. I don't get that at all. Anyway, I realised that I had some serious decisions to make, the details of which I could easily get lost in, but the basics were pretty straight forward.

Decision One - stay or leave. Everything else would be changed by this, so it has to come first. And haven’t I been here before? Bollocks. Leaving - well there’s no shortage of ways I can find to justify that. I’m really good at making that choice. Maybe not in exactly this way before, but in some way or another, I’m always choosing to leave. It's safe, reliable, well known, and easy. But just occasionally, something comes along to shake my world upside-down, giving me a glimpse of an alternative. And right now, Davey was doing just that. But it's a hard choice. If you sat down a made a list of reasons to stay and reasons to leave, I totally know that the reasons to stay will be loads fucking longer than the reasons to leave. But it's fear. Fear is powerful, and as much as I try not to admit it, perhaps even to myself, fear is usually what stops me doing stuff. So in this case, fear of an unknown life, in an unknown world, with the uncertainties that are to be expected, is a very big thing.

By the time I got back to the apartment, physically exhausted because I'd totally over done it, and mentally in not much better shape, I had decided one thing only. I'm going to do something different, I'm going to try staying. As I walked in I'd forgotten about Jen, and was taken by surprise when she met me in the hallway. For some reason I had assumed that she was going to be younger, but I guess she was maybe in her late 40's.

“Hello, you must be Cal, Davey told me you would be here. I'm Jen.”

She was just so… nice. I don't have a better word right now. It was very easy talking with her, she never seemed to assume anything, and I found myself inadvertently dropping my guard on several occasions. Whilst I was showering and getting dressed again, she had made me sandwiches. I just stood there looking at them for ages. She had just done that. For me. For some guy her boss is screwing and she doesn't know at all. Why would someone do that? I looked up to find Jen watching me.

“It's OK” she said, “they're just sandwiches”.

“Yeah, I know, thanks.”

She turned away to carry on with her cleaning and tidying, but I wasn't able to leave it like that.

“No, I really mean it. Thank you. You didn't have to do this for me, and you've never met me before, I don't really know what to say.”

I've noticed that I do this sometimes, I start to over explain myself when I'm feeling emotional. Bollocks, I'm getting emotional over a fucking sandwich!

“Cal, it's OK, really. You seem like a nice guy, and yes, quite obviously”, she looked me up and down, “you probably haven't always been such a nice guy, but sometimes we all do what we need to do. And I know for certain that there's no way in the world you would be standing in this kitchen if Davey didn't think you were something special.”

She had a way of talking as if she was constantly about to find something really funny, or like she always knew something that I didn't. I dunno, it was strange.

“OK then.”

Wow, she was also tough. In that second of looking me over, I felt as though she had turned me inside out and possibly taken a bone scraping for later analysis. I ate the sandwiches in silence. It seemed like a comfortable kind of silence, but I also couldn't quite escape the feeling that she knew I wanted to ask her something. In the end, I gave in, although I don't know if that's a fair description, it wasn't really a game.

“So, can I ask you something?”

“Anything, what is it?”

I thought that there was edge of challenge to her response, probably I just imagined it. I knew what I wanted to know, but wasn't really sure how to get there.

“How come Davey is able to surround himself with people like you?”

“Well, he works hard, I guess he earns good money…”

“No, I mean, that's not what I meant. Money pays people, I get that bit. But people that care about him so much, and look out for him, try and protect him, it's like he's being guarded or something.”

And it was like that. Just briefly, I wondered if I'd inadvertently started fucking a spy. His friends, especially Kati, they all seemed to be ‘on his side’. And Jen was the same.

“Oh, right, well I suppose you will have seen that a lot, you know, moving in with him and everything.” It wasn't a question. “Davey is a really great person, he's genuine, generous, friendly, an all round good guy. It was so terrible what happened, no-one should have to deal with that. It's not as though he ever asked, but think of it as calling in favours. We all do what we can to help.”

“What do you mean? What happened?”

“You don't know?”

I was feeling a little alarmed by the amount of surprise she didn't manage to hide.

“No, what do you mean?”

“It's really not for me to tell you Cal, you should ask Davey.”

“Ask him what?”

"Yes, that's a fair point. I'll give you the short version, but you really have to talk with Davey about this.”

So Jen gave me the short version. And I kind of wished she hadn’t. It turns out that Davey’s Dad and his boyfriend Stephen - that’s Davey’s boyfriend, not his Dad’s boyfriend, that would be way confusing - were killed four years ago in a skiing accident. They got caught in a freak avalanche. Davey, his Mum and his brother were a bit behind them, and saw the whole thing happen. Some people have some real shit in their lives don’t they? Davey and Stephen had been together for like forever, since University or something, and he’s not been out with anyone since then. It all kind of made a bit more sense now, the way that people were so protective. But overall, I couldn’t help but feel I was better off before I knew. Somehow the pressure was now really on.

I was supposed to me meeting Davey from work at 3.00pm, so I left Jen and headed off, knowing that I would already be a few minutes late. I got to his building at 3.10pm, but he wasn’t waiting for me, so I figured he was also running late. By 3.30pm I was wondering where he had got to, and at 3.45pm I decided that maybe I should go inside. After all, I had just assumed that he would come out to meet me. Walking in, there was a very smart looking reception area, which was the only place I could see anyone to speak to. There were several people behind the desk, and as I walked up, a very pretty girl asked me how she could ‘be of assistance’.

“Hi, I'm supposed to be meeting Davey here.”

It seemed like a straight forward situation.

“I’m sorry sir, there's no Mr Davey working here, could there be another name?”

“No, it's not Mr Davey, that's not his last name, it's Mr…”

Fuck. I don't know his fucking name! Oh. My. Fucking. Fuck Fuck. Bolloxing. Hell. Maybe if I stand really still time will stop? As I was standing there, with time not stopping, but not speaking, desperately hoping that something will come to me from who knows where, this other guy walks over to us. OK, no. I'll take a moment, because I don't like him. He’s like some kind of man/boy thing, you know, Gay with a capital G, a haircut that might have cost a fortune but it's still all one sided and looks crap, and a way of walking as though at any moment he could be snapped by the paparazzi. Anyway, he minces over like he’s auditioning for the gayest fucking cabin crew stereotype in the fucking world, and looks me over in what I presume was supposed to be a dismissive way. Wow - I'm quite fucking bitchy today. And then he spoke. Of course, he starts every sentence with an annoyed sigh like I've somehow interrupted his ever-so-important magazine reading or nail filing, or something.

*Sigh* “He means Mr Carter.”

Wow - it must take practice to do that thing where you’re talking to someone, but not actually looking at them because they might offend your delicate senses or something.

“Oh, of course, well take a seat and I’ll let him know he has a visitor."

Pretty Girl was also much nicer than the man/boy/mincing thing.

*Sigh* “No, it's fine, I'll do it.”

And off he flounced, leaving the pretty girl to smile politely.

“Is he always like that?”

I asked, I was really just thinking out loud. She looked around briefly.


We exchanged a smile at his expense, and I went and sat on the chairs where people wait for other people. You know the ones, they're not exactly uncomfortable, but you're clearly not supposed to be there for too long. A moment later, and Pretty Girl was back.

“Can I get you anything sir? Tea? Coffee? Something stronger?”

“No, thanks. I'll just wait.”

“OK sir, I'm sure Mr Carter won't be too long.”

Pretty Girl went back to the desk, and Man/boy Mincer also returned not long after. There was some conversation happening which I assumed was about me, as they looked over with no hint of subtlety several times. Over the next few minutes three or four other people appeared to have some very important Reception Desk Business, and many others desperately needed to walk past the seating area. It seemed obvious that I was some sort of entertainment for the day, or at least, of more than passing interest.

After about forty years, OK, maybe ten minutes, Davey appeared from the lift. He looks so fucking hot in that suit. He scanned across the room, and saw me, waiting. And then he saw the somewhat overcrowded Reception area, and the people caught mid-walk-by who were pretending to read something very intently in a likely empty folder. Walking towards me, he seemed happy to see me.

“I’m so sorry I’m running late, and I’m more sorry that you’ve had to sit here being inspected by half the building.”

I stood up, and was surprised by the hug and kiss I got. I mean, I’m not ashamed of who I am, but people will see Davey with me.

“Come on, we’ll leave in a minute, I promise, but we may as well do this now.”

“Do what?”

“Say hello. I spend far too much time at work so you'll see these people again.”

I followed Davey towards the Reception desk.

“OK, don't all pretend to be working just because I’m here. This is Mr Richardson.”

Wow, he knows my name. I am so crap some times.

“He doesn’t wait in Reception for me, he comes straight upstairs. You call me when he gets here, and you interrupt me if necessary.”

Davey’s tone was friendly, polite, kind, but also firm. Clearly everyone was listening.

“Cal, this is Vicky - she runs Reception, and secretly she might run the entire company, I can’t be sure.”

So Pretty Girl was called Vicky. Yeah, it was a name that suited her. She seemed nice.

“And this is Nihal, he’s my PA.”

Oh. Him. The man/boy/mincer was called Nihal. It figures.

“Nihal - try and be nice. I know it can be difficult for you.

I caught Vicky’s eye as she struggled to contain a laugh.

“I’m out for the day now, I’ll see you all in the morning.”

And with that, we left. As we walked, I explained to Davey about what had been happening when I arrived, and he laughed as I told him about Nihal.

“Yes, he's a great guy really, totally efficient and organised, but he does sometimes think that he owns me.”

“So you seem pretty important here?”

I had to ask, it was kind of odd the way he spoke to people.

“I don't know about important, but it's my company, so they pretty much do what I ask. So, are we going shopping?”

“Actually, I though that maybe we could just get a drink or something, I'm not in the mood to spend loads more of your money.”

So Davey led us to his favourite bar, which as it turns out, I remembered - with a cringe. It was here that I met him, OK slightly stalked him, on what turned out to be his birthday. It was much quieter, as you might expect on a Monday afternoon. Davey got a couple of beers and we sat opposite each other.

“So what’s wrong Cal? You’ve got a mega serious look.”

“Yeah, well… the thing is… I heard what happened, with Stephen, and your Dad, and well… I dunno… what’s going on Davey?”

Wow. I did not think I was going to say that. Davey looked immediately deflated.

“Oh. That. I’d hoped that we would have longer before we had this conversation.”

“You don't have to talk about what happened Davey, and I guess I’m feeling a bit paranoid. But I have nothing. Like, totally, nothing. And you, you have everything, apparently. If this doesn’t work out then you’ll still have everything, and me, I’ll still have nothing. And it makes me nervous. It doesn’t even make sense. I pretty much am the boy your mother warns you about, and you, well, I dunno what the fuck you are, but you’re pretty awesome.”

“Wasn't it ‘pretty fucking awesome?’ I’m sure that’s what my Mum said. And she didn’t warn me about you either.”

I laughed without meaning to. I was feeling very serious.

“Cal, it’s true, that I do have a lot. But it’s just stuff that money buys - that’s not real. And I have some great friends, amazing friends really. And yes, I’d still have all of that."

Davey reached over to hold my hands.

“But it’s you, you fucking idiot. It’s you, you’re the person, the thing, the whatever it fucking is, that actually makes me happy.”

“But how can I…”

“It doesn’t matter how, it just is. And sometime we’ll talk about it more, but please, don’t ever compare yourself to Stephen. He was a nice guy, and certainly my family thought he was perfect, but actually I was going to leave him. He wasn’t good for me, in fact, he was pretty bad for me, and yes, it’s terrible the way things happened, but you’re already a much better part of my life than he ever was.”

Fuck me. I'm not sure that makes me feel any better, but actually, yeah, it does a bit.

“So, you want to stay for more beer, get food, or maybe just go home?”

Oh god. He was looking at me in that way. Like he could actually eat me - and I think I’d let him. And in that suit. Fuck, I've never had a thing for suits, but now, now I do. At least, I have a thing for Davey in a suit. And out of a suit. And yeah, just generally. My cock was already hard in my jeans.

“Let’s go home” I said. Damn, I called it home.

Davey called a cab, and soon as the door was closed, we were all over each other. I think the driver had to ask three times before either of us told him where we were going. It was so fucking horny, kissing Davey and feeling his hard cock through his suit trousers in the back of a cab. When we got home, Davey took us straight to the bedroom and closed the door.

“Hi boys” Jen shout after us.

“Bye Jen” Davey shouted back. I swear I could hear her laughing as she closed the front door.

But my thoughts were very much on something more urgent. Davey’s cock, and my arse. They needed to be much better acquainted. Having taken far too many seconds unfastening his trousers, I was able to pull them off along with his boxers, revealing his deliciously hard cock. I pushed him back onto the bed as I undressed completely. Moments later, and now naked, I straddled his body and leaned down for some serious deep kissing action. Oh fuck, he is so fucking sexy, tie still loosely around his neck, shirt mostly unbuttoned, cock pressing against my own. At that moment I really didn’t give a fuck about exactly what our relationship was or wasn't.

“Oh fuck Cal, is this what happens when I leave you home alone for the day?”

As a reply, I picked up the lube from his bedside table and reached behind me to rub a generous amount over his cock.

“You have no idea how much I need this right now” I said.

Which was scarily true. I started to rub his now well lubed dick up and down my arse. Pushing it ever so gently against my hole, so that I could hold it there for a moment. Then, with concentration I usually only reserve for rolling the perfect joint, I started to push down, sitting, impaling myself on to his cock. And it felt fucking awesome. The combined sense of stretching, invading, filling, and completing me. I was surprised at how quickly I was sat on his cock as far as it could go. Davey was looking at me with lust and just a hint of surprise.

And then the fun really started, as I worked out exactly how best to ride Davey’s cock. With some minor trial and error, I was quickly able to propel myself into some kind of bliss, and judging my the look on Davey’s face, he was there too. The steady rhythm got faster and more urgent, as both of us were getting closer to cumming. It was so amazing, to see Davey’s breathing getting faster and faster, the look of pleasure, and to know that I was doing it. OK, so the same was pretty much true for me as well, his cock was driving me fucking crazy, and it was difficult not to loose control completely. And then it was happening, I was at the point of no return. You know, that moment where you know that there is no fucking way in the world you are going to do anything other than shoot your spunk. Fucking amazing feeling. For me, it usually lasts somewhere between 30 seconds and a minute, but I know that for some guys they barely see it coming, so I guess it’s different for everyone. But I love that feeling. I think that I probably would have cum without actually touching my cock at all, but I’m an impatient little fuck and I can’t help myself. So I start wanking my cock as I ride Davey to the very fine end that I know is on it’s way. Davey is now fucking up in to me as hard as he can, and when he starts saying my name, I’m done for. I tighten my grip on my cock as I start to spunk all over Davey, lying underneath me. His shirt mostly, his face, myself, it seems to go everywhere. By contrast, I can feel exactly where Davey’s spunk is going, as he shoots inside me again and again.

I finish unbuttoning his shirt and lay down on his fit hairy body, enjoying the intimacy of that post-fucking moment. As much as I don't want it to, Davey’s cock slowly slides out of me, dragging with it one final whimper from me. Fifteen minutes later, we haven't really moved.

“Come on” I say to Davey, “you need to shower after work, you seem to be all sweaty.”

And with that, what I hoped would happen, did. He picked me up and carried me over to the bathroom. Mmmm, heaven.

As always, feel free to get in touch, I love hearing from you.

Copyright © 2017 Sam Wyer; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Davey's self-assurance. Cal's self-doubt. The steamy sex. Your writing does a great job of conveying all of those parts of the story, and it all adds up to a great story! Thanks.

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Yes, wonderfully steamy. And Cal made Davey stop working...no more alpha boss...but I do wonder what made Stephen bad for Davey, and what makes Cal so very right. 

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I may not have the disreputable background that Cal has, but I can identify with his insecurity. I have felt just as out of place as Cal does when I was dating one guy (his family had accumulated considerable wealth and took expensive and exotic vacations). My upbringing was clearly lower-middle-class suburban and things like expensive restaurants make me very uncomfortable. I also have been in the situation of being judged by others who thought they were much better than I am.  ;-)

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Just so you know, Sam it seemed like I'd just begun this chapter and then I was reading the last few lines. So, no, it's not too long.:thumbup:

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6 hours ago, Ron said:

Just so you know, Sam it seemed like I'd just begun this chapter and then I was reading the last few lines. So, no, it's not too long.:thumbup:


Ha - thanks Ron :) 

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