SOMEBODY ELSE'S GUY: Jocelyn Brown

I can't get off my high horse and I can't let you go/ You are the one who, you are the one who/ Makes me feel so real, yeah, yeah, yeah/ Oh, what am I supposed to/ Oh, what am I supposed to do baby/ When I'm so hooked-up on you then I realize, oh, I realize/ That you are somebody else's guy/ Oh yeah/ Why you wanna do this to me boy

Can you remember the times we spent together/ Sharing the days in the sun/ Then I found out you were somebody else's lover/ After all the plans were made now they're shattered

Still I can't get off my high-horse I can't let you go/ You are the one who makes me feel so real/ Oh, what am I supposed to do when I hooked so on you/ Then I realize that you're somebody else's guy

That day in September I'm sure you can remember/ That's when all the stuff hit the fan/ You told me a lie and you didn't have an alibi/ But baby yet I still care 

You know I loved you so baby that I can't let you go, no, no/ You are the one who makes me feel so real/ Oh, what am I supposed to do when I'm hooked so on you/ And I realize you're somebody else's guy

Chapter 4

Brian

I heard everything he said about Michael and Lindsay. But they aren't my concern right now, although they will be. Right now, I have him pinned against the brick wall, my hand tangled in the soft, longish blond locks that I haven't touched in more hours than I care to fucking count or remember. I will never tell him of the hustlers I hired for a week straight after he left me- all blond, blue-eyed twinks and all the same horrible fixation with the Gap and Old Navy, but none of them had his hair texture, the smell of his skin, the pattern of his breathing when he is excited or aroused. None of them were him.

But he's here with me, and arguing over fucking money!

"So you want to haggle over money like some fucking whore, Justin?" I growl into his ear. "Well, let me show you exactly how I treat them."

I unbutton his shirt quickly, realizing that he must have come straight from work. Part of me wishes that he'd worn his normal style of shirts so that I could rip it clear off of him. There was a time when I would have done exactly that. But I realize that after I make my point, he still has to go home to Ian. And that shit pisses me off even further!

I bite into his shoulder, hearing him gasp and hiss as I transfer my displeasure into pleasure for him. I know how he likes it. He loves when I'm rough, when I leave no particle of him unmolested; no part of his soul untouched.

"St...St..."

"Don't you dare tell me to fucking stop, Justin! That's not what my whores do."

"I not your fucking whore!"

"And that's what you need to remember, isn't it? You're not! And I've never treated like you were."

"Then why do this?"

"Because..." And I bend his head back again to kiss him, before I tell him how much this fucking hurts; before I let it be known how much the knowledge that he is no longer mine claws at my insides. But he doesn't deserve to know that. That's MY secret!

He left. Yeah, so what. After all, I played my part in that leaving. But this is about me having to find out all that shit he spouted from Michael. And Justin never having the fucking balls to correct my knowledge; about him giving up on me- on us.

Yes, I can admit that there was an ‘us', if only to myself. But he should have known there was after he fought so fucking hard to make it happen. So now he'll pay for my pain with his body. And then maybe I can fucking sleep tonight without dreaming of being inside it, without knowing that the same road my dick travels is the one he allows Ian's to go. Maybe I can exorcise the demon of constant want.

Maybe I can finally climb out the pit of loneliness our fucking stupidity and silence threw us into. Fuck!

I grab at his pants, shoving them down passed his hips. At first, I thought the whimper was his way of telling me to stop, until I felt him push back into me with force. 

"You motherfucking son-of-a-bitch! Would it have killed you to ask me to stay, Brian? Would it? Why are you doing this?"

Instead of answering him, I turned him around and began to eat at his mouth. God, I have missed the taste of him! The plumpness of his lips as they mash hard and angrily against my own, makes me nostalgic and desperate for not to end. Kissing Justin Taylor has always been more euphoric than any drug I have ever taken. I wonder if Ian knows that we had an agreement that Justin broke in order to kiss him.

"Did you like breaking our rules, Justin? Ian doesn't kiss you like this, does he?"

Without giving him time to answer, I ram my tongue into his mouth, trying to touch his tonsils with my tongue. I want to wipe every thought that isn't about me and him clear out of his fucking head. For once in eight fucking months, I want his undivided attention! He pushes me back, trying to get some distance between us.

"Ethan. Ethan. His name is ETHAN! And I don't want to talk about him while I'm standing here with my dick waving at you!"

"Fuck that! We're going to talk about him while I fuck your brains out, Justin. Because I have no doubts that Eeyore did it while he was fucking YOU!" I yelled back at him.

"If you knew anything, Brian, you would know that I haven't been fucked, but was the one DOING the fucking!"

He stills, and I can tell from his reaction that he didn't mean to let that little piece of information slip out. All this time, I've been imagining Justin writhing beneath that raggedy fucker with his ass full of the idiot's dick. But Justin hasn't let the bastard into him? I look at him closely to see if there is any hint of a lie. But the fact that Justin can't look me in the eye, and is biting his lip right now is very telling.

"Not man enough, huh?" I ask, just shy of smugly.

And then it was his turn to shut me up. Justin jumped on me, kissing me as if I was an oxygen tank and he was looking for his last breath. I gave as good as I got, letting all my anger and disappointment- my buried hurt- come forth and color the kiss. He bit my lip then licked away the sharp sting of the action. I fucking hate him right now, but I love what he does to me.

No one else can make me this passionate about anything; nothing and no one else can take his place in my bed!

I move us in that direction, picking him up bodily as he continues to pull my hair while wrapping those surprisingly long legs around my torso. As soon as we reached our battleground, I dumped him in the center of it, wasting no time divesting him of the nearly-discarded pant leg still clinging to him, his socks and his shirt. I tossed them over my shoulder, not giving a fuck where they landed or how rumpled they'll be when he goes to put them back on before leaving me again. Once again, the thought of Justin leaving angers me to no end, and I find myself biting him hard upon his legs. I don't give a fuck if I leave marks.

Justin is MINE! Always has been and always WILL be! And I don't give a fuck how long it takes for him to realize it! I will make damn sure he knows it every time he looks at himself for the next fucking week! I flip him over onto his stomach, watching his ass wiggle as he tries to get some friction on his aching, leaking dick.

But he won't get relief, not until I give it to him. And right now, this isn't about pleasing him. It's about me! I cover his entire length with my body, adding more biting and sucking marks along the way. I want to see stamps along his body. 

"Br...Bri...Brian please...." he moans out to me.

"What?"

"Hurry..."

"No." That simple word has him taking in a sharp breath, as I part his plump ass cheeks and dive in.

I inhale the pheromones centered right there as I begin to tongue fuck his hole slowly, holding his hips stationary so that he can't move away from me. His cries of frustration and pleasure are music to my ears, as I rim him to within a centimeter of cumming, before stopping long enough for the orgasm to recede. Then I start all over again.

Justin is clawing the sheets, still begging for release when I turn him over and take him into my mouth. Deep-throating Justin has always been my own guilty pleasure. His cock is thick and long, and fills my mouth and throat just right. His precum is just the slightest bit salty and always leaves me craving more, even after he shoots fully down my throat. Swallowing around his dick, I can hear his breath hitch, before the most amazing moan escapes him.

I have both of our hands entwined to keep him from snatching me bald, or trying to guide my head to where he wants it. Right now he is completely at my will and mercy; just the way I love him. Bringing him once again to the precipice only to deny him his climax is frustrating him to no end. Now he knows what being without him is like for me.

Frustrating. Sometimes disheartening. It just plain fucking hurts! I want to hurt him the way he has hurt me, but I can't. I know that somewhere inside of him, he still trusts me and I would never destroy that.

But that doesn't stop me from wanting him to remember that it was me in his ass for the next month. Disengaging one of my hands, I reach over to the glass bowl with the condoms in it. I look at Justin lying there, waiting for me to do whatever it is I'm going to do. He's not lying there like some dead thing, or out of obligation. He is still lying there because he needs this.

Does he need to feel ‘us' again, too?

I don't know and I won't ask him; I just know that I do. I put the barest amount of lube on the tip of my fingers before tapping around, reaching under him. Justin automatically put his legs up in a way that would give me easy access to his entrance. Good boy! I waste no time in inserting both fingers at the same time while he once again grips the sheets and lets out a gusty sigh at the first penetration. The sound took me back to the very first night I heard that lusty sigh with the barest amount of pain mixed in.

Even then, I longed to hear it again and again; to be the cause of it, and the end result of it. But unlike that first night though, Justin relaxed instantaneously as if his body has never forgotten the feel of my fingers inside him. He moved and shifted my digits within him, choking back a gasp when my fingers reached his pleasure center and tapped twice before settling into a staccato rhythm against it. Before long Justin was climbing passion's peak again, and I was debating with myself to allow him the release he'd been denied since we had begun this familiar dance of push and pull between us.

Justin made the decision for me. "Fuck... Fuck, Brian! Stop finger fucking me and get your cock in me. NOW!"

I couldn't help the chuckle that left me. Justin has always been a dynamic top, but he was one bossy ass bottom. "But I think I want to stay right here," I tell him, moving my fingers at an even slower rate. That moan of frustration and desire is back full force, and I can't help but smile.

"Fuck yourself on your fingers, Brian. I want your dick!"

"How bad?"

Justin's abdomen contracted so tightly, he would have made any personal trainer proud. But the action was felt in his rectum, where my fingers were playing happily until he squeezed them. I remembered then why I had taken to calling Justin the ‘Nutcracker.' The things he could do with his ass was amazing.

"Fuck me now or I swear, Brian, I'll try with everything I have to break your fucking fingers while they are in my ass. I would hate to see you have to explain that particular injury to your fucking nosy assed friends. I can just hear Michael's whining and Lindsay sounding like a fucking pigeon, cooing over you."

I sighed. First, I had forgotten just how cruel Justin could be. Mentioning Michael and Lindsay, during sex of any kind, is usually enough to make my dick soft. But more than that, I've forgotten how vindictive he can be because now in my head, instead of hearing Justin's moaning and cursing, I have the faintest alarm bells ringing ‘Briannnnn' and ‘Brian' both in the most obnoxious tones of whine and coo. I placed the condom on my dick, then rammed into Justin both as punishment and because I needed to hear him moan loud enough to drown out all the other white noise in my head.

I settled into a driving rhythm, one that had Justin clawing my back, and whispering the dirtiest things in my ear. My blond has always had a filthy mouth when I fucked him, especially when I hit his prostate hard at just the right angle. Most people looking at Justin would never know, that beneath all those mild manners, is a fucking porn star. Justin clamped his ass around my dick, then laughed at the hitch in my own breathing. I leaned down and proceeded to kiss the breath right out of him, giving him the tongue lashing I could no longer give him in words.

He moaned into my mouth, and I knew by the tenor of it that he needed me to drive harder- to speed up. I reached between us and pinched his left nipple, causing his pelvis to jerk tightly into mine. Moving my hands down underneath him, I gripped his ass in both hands, spreading him just the smallest bit wider and jackhammered my way into his ass just the slightest bit further within the already tight fit. My reward was a hiccup and a slight scream emitting from the smart mouth still attached to my own. I kept him there, moving against him, making the smallest circles but keeping all the impact on that bundle of nerves.

I can feel him trembling from the inside out as I keep up my assault. I could tell that he was loving the motion from the way he fused our lips together, even more. The tremors became a full-blown quake and I knew he was right on the brink again. This time I wouldn't stop what was happening. In fact, I moved faster, wanting to speed up my own orgasm and kick his up a notch.

The next time he is fucking that punkass, Paganini Junior, I want him to remember the only man who could make him insensate with pleasure like this... I want him to remember ME! Justin tried to reach between us, heading straight for his cock, but I grabbed his hand and held it high above his head on the pillows. It's my dick that he'll cum from, nothing and no one else! I rammed hard again, adding a little snap at the end of my forward motion, sending him over the edge.

Feeling his walls contract around me, was my version of heaven. He couldn't still the movements of his own hips as he continued to crest, moaning my name then whimpering in relief. I felt the wetness from his eyes slip onto the side of my face, which is buried in his neck as I climax within the condom. First a gasp... Then the moan that Justin always brings out of me...

And finally the sigh which spells relief.

Having Justin again was everything I could have imagined. And for these few moments, he was mine again, not somebody else's guy. By the time I pulled out of Justin, he was already sleeping deeply. I smiled, remembering the many nights that he fell asleep with my dick inside of him, content in the knowledge that this was how it should be. Tomorrow there will be awkward feelings about what we've done tonight.

I cannot honestly say that I feel bad about it, but I know that he will. It was a one-night-only kind of thing; I dare not call it a one-night-stand. It's simply who we are in this place that we used to call home. Perhaps now that this is done, I can call it my home once again. But looking at Justin settle himself into my side, as I draw the duvet over our cooling bodies, that's debatable.