Call Me Baby

I rolled over, groaning at the intrusive noise. Damn it - where is that phone?

The ringing had woken me from a sound sleep. I didn't even have to look at the screen, the custom ringtone told me it was Marley. Marley Kay Gypsum* (*Names Changed), the singer in our band, my fellow songwriter, the unrequited love of my life, the girl who I'd spent the past two years of my life chasing. Chasing, but never catching, only to be placed firmly and bluntly in the dreaded "Friend Zone"

None of that mattered. It was Marley, of course I was going to answer it, and, of course, I was going to do whatever it was she asked me... because... you never know. I mean, I *know* I was never going to get any pussy from her, but every single time she called, I'd come running... because... you never know.

She was going a mile-a-minute from the moment I answered, and I wasn't anywhere close to awake yet.

"OhMyGod, Taz!! YouHaveToComeOver I JustHAVEtoSeeHim He'sSoPerfect"

I had to get a word in edgewise... "Wait, wait... MARLEY!!" "Yeah?" "What do you WANT?"

I could actually hear her take a deep breath. "Can you come over and rehearse?"

"What?? Now? "

"Yeah, he's out working on his car and I need to meet him."

"Wait.. what? You want me to come over and rehearse at..." what time WAS it?? "Jesus! 7am!! So you can meet a GUY?"

She went right back into mile-a-minute mode: "Yeah, he was mowing, and now he's working on his car and ..." Jesus. This would never end. "Okay.. OKAY... I'll be right over."

I slipped on some fresh clothes. There wouldn't be time to shower or wash my hair, so I pulled my grey touk on my head and hit the door running... because... you never know. I threw a wish in the well - I thought to myself, maybe if she didn't score with this guy I could get a little something on the rebound.

I had no idea just how right I was to think that.

I pulled my Mustang into Marley's driveway, just as the other guys from the band were showing up. Amazing, I thought to myself, she suckered them all into coming over.

But I could see why. The new tenant, the guy Marley was going on and on ( and on ) about, was working on his car in the driveway. Hmm... A Camaro guy, but still... a '78 Z28.. The 'classic car buff' that I was nodded at him with approval. He smiled at me, and a disturbing chill shot up my spine. Handsome, buff, and tall, I could see why Marley was attracted to this Alpha-Male, and my heart sank a bit when I visualized my chances with her dwindling to zero.

Still, it was good to get the band together, and pretty soon we were all in Marley's garage, jamming a good groove. I was lead guitar, and the chords were coming out smooth today, but as Marely sang, I looked over next door and noticed the Camaro guy had put earbuds in and was listening to something else! If Marely was going to catch his eye, she was going to have to try a different tactic. "Listen, you woke me up and made me come over here just so you could flirt with Mr. Camaro." I said, jerking my thumb in his direction. "He's not even paying attention. The least you can do is wash my car."

Marley pouted, but our bassist and I shoved a rag and bucket into her hands and said, "Maybe he'll see you. Get out there and sell it, girlfriend." I smiled to myself at calling her girlfriend, but her attention was diverted next door, and she started to pretend to wash my car.

God, she tried. She was sliding around on the hood of the car like a whore, and when he finally looked over at her, she was so startled, she slid off the car and landed on the driveway hard, knocking the breath right out of her!

That got his attention, and he came over to help her up. She was giggling and so embarrassed, but she thanked him for helping her up and made him promise to wait for her to change so she could play our song for him. He agreed, and we shot the breeze for a bit while she changed. He leaned back on the hood of my 'Stang, and I knew my chance with Marley was shot - I don't normally look, but it was hard to not see the obvious bulge dangling down the left leg of his pants. He wore ripped jeans, skin was showing, and I got this mental picture of him tearing into Marley with the snake lurking just under that denim. There was this lethal sensuality that just... oozed from him.

Marley came out soon and we did a couple of numbers. He actually seemed to enjoy them and even applauded. I watched him as he watched our group perform, and I couldn't help but noticing that, each time I looked, his manhood stood out a little more with each passing moment. Jesus, the guy was getting a hard-on watching her sing!! He was watching all of us, too, not just Marley, and one time I swear he caught me looking at that ever-growing bulge. He diverted his gaze back to Marley, but the smile that crossed his face made all the hair on the back of my neck stand straight up.

After the number, Marley floated out to talk to him, smiling as he clapped, receiving praise for our effort. She turned to write her number on a scrap of paper...

...then the entire world as I knew it changed forever.

He walked right past, ignoring her, and straight up to me, smiling. He extended his hand to shake mine. I was dumbstruck, the electric current transmitted by the grip of his strong masculine handshake left me speechless. He smiled again, and thrust a piece of paper into my hand. I could feel his body heat on the paper, and not knowing what else to do, I opened it and looked down, reading: "Call Me" It had a phone number on it. Inscribed just below that, like a signature, was "XOXO"

A huge wave of adrenaline shot through me as I realized what was happening, and re-thought about all the things that lead to this moment, now seen in a completely different light. I looked up at him, to confirm this wasn't a joke. His piercing stare told me that he was dead serious. My eyes went wide, and I must have looked totally stupid. He just smiled warmly. I could actually feel my dick harden when he did that. He raised his hand to his ear, thumb and pinky outstretched in the "telephone" gesture, and in a direct masculine voice he said "Call Me." There was no maybe, his voice made it clear it was an order. As if to drive his point home, he winked and smiled again, and turned to leave.

Still totally in shock, before I could say anything, he slipped past Marley and headed down the driveway. She stood there with her arms out and said, "What the fuck, Taz!!"

I slipped the note into my pocket. I had to think of something fast. "He.. he liked our song"

"Then why did he tell YOU? What was on that note?"

"Nothing, Marley. I gotta go." My mind was whirling, and she wasn't helping. I unplugged my guitar. By the time I got to my car, both the guy and his Z28 were gone.

The drive home was a blur. I don't remember if the lights were green or not. I practically ran into the apartment and poured myself a drink, trying to forget about it. Then, I took out that note and read it again. I could not stop thinking about that wink, I could not stop visualizing the bulge in his pants, and if that wasn't bad enough, my own erection would not subside. I put the note back in my pocket.

Two minutes later, I took out the note and looked at it again. I picked up my phone and started to dial the number. "What am I doing?" I pressed CLEAR, put down the phone, put the note back in my pocket, and poured some more whiskey.

Two minutes later, I took out the note again. It hadn't changed. Two words. "Call Me" A number. But every time I looked at the "XOXO" a shot of adrenaline rushed through my body and my cock got hard all over again. I shook my head. "This can't happen." I put the note back in my pocket once again.

The only reason it took me most of the day to finally pick up the phone again was that it took me that long to drink a few more shots of Canadian Whiskey.

My hands were shaking when I dialed the number written on that precious, small scrap of paper he'd thrust into my hands. I really didn't know where this was all going to go, but I knew that I wanted the next step as badly as I'd wanted Marley only a couple of hours ago. I was shaking so bad I almost couldn't press SEND.

But I did.

He answered on the third ring. By then, I was trying to hang up, but my trembling made me miss the END button. I heard his voice.

"Hi, I'm glad it's you. You took your time with the call." He knew it was me without asking, as if it was all part of some plan that I was not yet aware of.

"Yeah, I... " my voice failed and my words trailed off. I could hear him chuckle.

"No worries. Come on over. You already know where I live."

I'd been hitting the bottle a little too hard and I was partly drunk. Driving wasn't a good idea, but I did not want to tell him that. "Yeah." I replied, still not really having a voice.

"Good. The door isn't locked, just come on in. See you in a few." he said, his smooth baritone was both soothing and exciting to me. What was I doing? I was about to tell him I couldn't, but he'd hung up, and his request was clear.

It was only a couple of blocks to Marleys house, so rather than risk a DUI, I just walked it. I didn't want the Mustang sitting so close to her house right now, anyway. The fewer questions from her the better.

I turned the corner onto Marleys block, and the Z28 was sitting in the driveway next door. It felt like the bottom of my stomach fell out, and it the whiskey had suddenly worn off. It was a hot night, the wind was blowing, and the thought "What am I doing?" kept running through my head. I put my hand on the doorknob, and immediately took it off. I knew if I opened that door that everything I was and everything I thought I wanted to be, would change forever.

I wasn't ready for that.

Just then, I heard the door open over at Marleys house, and saw her starting to step out. Like always, she was beautiful, and it looked like she was dressed to go to the club - likely an after-effect of what happened that morning. Normally, I'd be fawning all over any chance to see her, but right now I felt that if she saw me I would explode from embarrassment. It was pretty obvious what I was doing here. Thankfully, her head was turned in the opposite direction, but quite suddenly I had nowhere else to go. She started to turn, and with no other options, I opened the door, slipped inside the house, quickly closing the door behind me. It closed with an ominous click felt way louder than it really was.

The house was dimly lit, and tastefully but sparsely decorated. I could hear a shower running in the distance. I edged through the room and said "...H..hello?" My voice sounded so weak.

"I'm in the shower." boomed that baritone voice. "Make yourself a drink, baby, I'll be right out."

I sat down without making a drink, thinking I'd had enough.

It didn't take long for the water to stop running, and very shortly after that, he came out of the bathroom wrapped only in a towel. Oh shit, I thought to myself.

"We're just guys here, the towel's ok, right?" It was less of a question than a statement, but, trying to be cool, I nodded.

"Good." He smiled.

I just stared at him. It was impossible not to. The man was a God.

He had nicely muscled arms, six-pack abs. Then I looked at his tattoos. He had "The Sky Is The Limit" tattooed on his delts, and a poem down his right ribcage. Glancing at the poem drew my eyes downward, and toward his navel, then the thin treasure-trail of hair lead my gaze down to the towel. I stared way too long at the towel, or more specifically, the way it tented outward barely hiding a package that, if possible, looked even bigger than before. The thought "What Am I Doing Here??" ran through my brain again, but he wasn't about to let me waver. He laughed, a low chuckle, effectively catching me staring, but changed the subject. "Let's get you a drink, baby."

I could finally break my gaze with the bulge of his manhood and put more than two words together. "No, thanks, I'm good, I've had a couple." He chuckled again and that smile lit up his face once more. "You're ready for another one." he said matter-of-factly. He swept his hand toward the couch. "Sit down, baby." I never questioned him, and sat on the far-left corner of his big leather couch while he went to the bar. Before I knew it he returned, placing a very large glass of rye in my hand, and we started chatting as he sat to my right, more-or-less in the center of the couch and practically touching me.

The conversation started innocently about music and cars and such, but as hard as I tried, I could not keep my eyes off of the growing tent in his towel, and finally, laughing a bit, he called me out on it.

"You keep checking it out. It's okay. Let's get you a better look at it, baby." Without any drama, and without giving me the opportunity to decline the invitation, he casually flung the towel open. His penis bobbed into view. Freed of the constraints of its cotton prison, it began to grow and swell, and I could not take my eyes off of it for the life of me. I'd never seen a penis other than my own before, and this one was easily twice the size of mine - and it was still growing. Uncircumcised and thick, it curved slightly to his left, so where I was sitting, it was almost as if it was rising up to point at me. I made a causal connection in my mind because, while at Marleys garage, I remember his trouser-snake hanging left. I shuddered that I was now staring right at it, and again mentally questioned being here. I sat down my drink, and finally spoke. "It's very nice.. er.. big.. nice and big." God, I was a mess. "Listen, I gotta go. I can't..." I rose from the couch, and headed toward the door.

He did not get up, but the casual, friendly tone left his voice. "Where do you think you're going, baby?"

"I wasn't looking for this." I started. My voice just tailed off, I looked down at the floor, and I took another step, edging toward the door.

"Where do you think you're going, baby?" he said again, this time a bit softer.

"Hey.. I just met you... and this is crazy... " I said. I looked at him, but he smiled that killer smile again, and I could not look away.

"Come over here, sit down." His voice dropped to a more personal, quiet tone. "It's just you... and me."

I had one more defensive thought, and I used it. "Marley's right next door. What if she finds out?" - I blurted, like I ever had a chance with her.

He chuckled. "I'll tell her, Don't ask me - I'll never tell." Not totally reassuring, but I believed him. It was obvious he didn't radiate much of a vibe until he slipped me that note.

Again, he beckoned me. "C'mon. Sit here next to me. You know you want to."

Damn. It's not just that he was right - I wanted to - but anything he said to me I just found myself doing, without question, without thinking. I returned to the couch, stopping to look at the chiseled hard man and his rigid hard cock. I wanted to look him in the eye and tell him no, I wasn't like this, I wanted to leave... I tried to look him in the eye. His stare was holding, and I had to look away. It's hard to look right at him, so I did the next best thing, and my gaze dropped to his erect cock. If anything, it had grown even larger. The head had cleared the sheath of its protective foreskin, and dark and red, his cockhead protruded from it proudly.

"Sit down, baby. No one will ever know."

Not entirely in control of my body, I sat, this time on the edge of the couch, knees together, hands clasped on them.

"Finish your drink." He told me. This was a command I was more than willing to obey, and the rye went down smoothly.

He was silent for a moment, and I tried to stare straight ahead. I couldn't. I took another peek at his hard cock, and I could almost feel him smile. I could feel my hands on my knees, fidgeting and flexing as if they were missing out on something.

Damn it, I had to get control of this. I forced my gaze into his.

That was a big mistake. It's hard to look right at him. He smiled, and I felt another adrenaline rush. I was falling, and he knew it. He took no time. "Touch it, baby." I looked down at his cock, and was amazed to see my hand moving toward him, but as my fingers grazed the head of his cock, I pulled back. I just couldn't do this, could I? No. I put my hands back on my knees. I'd convinced myself that there was no way I was going to put a hand on his dick. No way. He looked at me again, deeply staring through my eyes right into my soul. I realized that I wanted this more than I'd wanted anything else. My still-hard cock confirmed it, and his stare was holding me. He flexed his eyes at me as if to say "Well? " and then winked. Adrenaline shot through me again.

"Go on." He said, almost in a whisper.

I did.

Almost as if I was in a trance, lost somewhere between his steely gaze and his silky-smooth voice, I saw my right hand reaching out and grasping his shaft, I saw my fingers closing around it. For the first time in my life, I had wrapped my hand around the base of a penis that was not my own. It was like someone else controlled my hand, yet it was me who could feel the warmth from his ample prick. I could barely get my fingers around it. I couldn't believe how soft, how warm it was. I could feel it gently throbbing in my hand. I gently squeezed it a bit, and without even thinking about it, started to slowly run my fingers up and down its already considerable length. The sight of my pale skin in stark contrast to the angry red cockhead and massive shaft of manhood in my hand was intoxicating. He moaned appreciatively.

I could feel heat coming from it, and it was pulsing in time with his heart beat. It was like wrapping my hand around a large bar wrapped in a hot rubber covering. His cock was almost the size of my Mag-Lite three-D Cell flashlight, and it felt that heavy in my hand. I marveled at its size, and the large nutsack below that contained his balls. An un-attached part of my brain marveled over how beautiful his equipment was.

He must have liked what how I was stroking his cock. "That's good... oh, that feels real good. That's right Baby, stroke it, stroke my cock," He encouraged me as I began to slide my hand back and forth on his growing shaft. He was getting harder and harder under my touch, rising, lengthening, and stiffening. It was an amazing feeling to know how hard I was making his cock, and as I tenderly worked it back and forth, I disconnectedly wondered just how big it could get. I heard him sigh with pleasure. I was surprised at just how good It made me feel hearing his pleasure, and how much joy I got from making him feel good. Mesmerized as they dangled beneath, I turned to face him, so that my left hand could join in the action, and lifted his heavy balls. They were hairless and huge, and felt like chicken eggs suspended inside thick balloons. As I rolled them gently in my hand, weighing them and admiring their smoothness, I noticed that the sacs had a thickness and heft to them - they felt full.

Before I knew it I was intently watching my hand stroke this man's cock in a slow, smooth rhythm, not quite masturbation, but closer to exploration, or maybe even... worship.

I was right. Now that I had my hand around it and was providing it attention, his penis continued to grow.

He shifted his hips, and cleared his throat, and I snapped out of my daze long enough to look into his eyes again. He nodded and smiled, as if in approval of my hand work, and slowly licked his lips. I felt like I knew what was next but was still surprised when he whispered at me. "You have a really nice touch, Baby..." he purred as he ran his fingers through my hair, around to the back of my head, while resting his other hand on the back of my neck. He removed my touk and tossed it aside, running his fingers through my hair once again. I knew where this was going, but I was powerless to intervene. It was no big surprise when he said, "Kiss it, Baby. Kiss my cock. It's okay. We both know you want to."