Dessert 12

I could tell by Kyle's smirk that he had caught me checking out our waiter. I had been staring at him all evening, from the moment his smooth, toned arm had reached across my shoulder to set a glass of water in front of me.

"I think our waiter is kind of, you know, the same as you," Kyle said, his lips pulling back to form the dimples in his cheeks.

"I think Kyle's calling you a fag, Sean," Anthony said from the other side of the table.

"Either way, he's cute," I answered.

I watched the waiter as he punched the cash register. His black polo shirt hugged his molded torso, tapering from his shoulders to his waist. His black jeans were taut across his ass, and the thread seemed to be stretching thin by his crotch.

I liked seeing the play of his arm muscles as he tried to cash out one of his tables. One vein snaked its way down his bicep, and another reached from his elbow to his wrist, where it shattered into smaller pathways.

For just a second, he looked up, and I caught his bright blue eyes that shined below his short, curly brown crew cut. He seemed about my age and his face looked like it hadn't seen a day of work in its life—his smooth, soft-looking skin flowed from his forehead down to his bare and flawless cheeks before finally meeting at his chin.

Of course, my housemates had caught me looking again.

"Why don't you try talking to him or something?" Kyle asked as he poked at what was left of his food.

"Yeah, come on, Sean. Fuck him in the ass," Anthony said.

"I can't do that," I said to my plate. "I don't even know if he's gay and if he is, I'm sure he already has a boyfriend or something."

I was actually a little scared. At 21 years old, I was only a few months into accepting my homosexuality and I hadn't even experienced another guy yet. I had fooled around with women when I considered myself straight, but that hadn't exactly gone too well.

"He's got to be gay," Anthony said. "Just look at that bracelet he's wearing."

I kind of liked the bracelet, a simple silver chain fastened tight around his smooth wrist.

"How about I just leave him a note on the check?" Kyle said. "Something like, 'Thanks for the great service, cutie'?"

I laughed.

"Yeah," I said. "Go for it."

We paid our check, Kyle scribbled the note and we trekked through the parking lot to the car. I was already beginning to feel the pangs of regret that I hadn't said anything to the waiter, and I felt even worse that I didn't even have a name to give him in the fantasy that would surely flood my mind later that night when I kicked the covers off my bed and unbuttoned the fly on my boxers.

My pants started vibrating then. Someone was calling my cell phone.

"Hello?" I said.

"Oh, uh, hi. This is Chris."

"Chris? Chris who?" I didn't know anyone named Chris. I tried to look at my housemates to see if they knew, but they had gotten ahead of me.

"This is Chris, your waiter. From the restaurant. Is this Sean?"

That bastard Kyle. He had probably written a raunchy note on that check and signed it with my phone number. I hated him so much that I could have kissed him, if he didn't have an extremely hot girlfriend.

"Oh, right," I said. "Yeah, this is Sean."

"Listen, I get off work in about an hour. How about we meet at the bar around the corner at 9 or so?"

He didn't have to ask me twice.

"Sure, I'll be there," I said.

I decided not to wait until 9. My cock had grown about two feet during our short phone call, and I was anxious to get some experience playing the field, so to speak. It still didn't feel right to go to gay clubs, so I spent most of time just wishing. Kyle was the one who always told me that if I never tell anyone what I want, I will be lonely for the rest of my life.

I stood outside the restaurant at about 8 o'clock. Every time the door opened and someone clad in the black uniform of the place's waiters stepped out, my chest heaved and my cock jumped.

Then I saw Chris walk out, still with his tight shirt tucked in above his hip-hugging belt. He slung his jacket over his shoulder and he reached into his pocket to grope for his keys.

I caught up with him from behind and followed him for a moment.

"Hey cutie," I said.

He spun around, his eyes hardened with fright before relaxing to their normal sparkle.

"I thought we were going to meet later," he said.

"Now seems better," I answered.

I followed him to his car, a white sedan resting alone in the shadows of a parking garage. I sat in the passenger seat, but Chris didn't start the car. He looked me over, from my slightly less-sculpted physique to my clean-shaven face and messy hair.

"Is this your first time?" he asked.

I nodded and he smiled back.

He leaned forward, planting his lips on mine. His tongue pried my teeth open and stayed that way for a while. His soft hands reached out and squeezed my shoulders, then moved down to my upper arms before caressing my chest.

I mirrored him, allowing my fingers to trace the lines of his chest muscles. I brushed against his nipples some, just lightly.

I heard the jingle of my belt buckle being undone and I felt his thin, smooth fingers unbutton the fly of my jeans. My hands followed suit, pulling down on his zipped and reaching in to grasp my first cock.

His half-hard dick was warm in my hand, and I followed its length down to where his balls hung. I cupped them in my palm and let my fingertips stroke the velvety skin.

Chris was keeping up at the same pace. He wrapped his fingers around my cut cock's shaft and pulled, making it twitch every time the head came in contact with his skin.

I had jacked myself off many times, but this felt far different. Chris' hand hadn't been trained the way mine had, and the new sensations it stirred made me rock hard in a matter of seconds.

We broke our kiss and panted for a moment.

"Let's try something a little more interesting," Chris said.

He pried open my fly so he would have easier access to my cock and balls. His head dipped down and I felt his tongue's warm wetness smear across the head. His hand reached up and seized my balls, cupping them tightly as his mouth further engulfed my dick.

I began to breathe harder as he sucked around the head. His tongue swirled around, coating my dick with his saliva and making me writhe in my seat. I let my hand reach out and play with hair, the silky strands soaking the space between my fingers.

Finally, he took my cock all the way to the base, and I felt his nose push into my public hair. His head bobbed up and down while his hand kept squeezing my balls. I moaned and wondered if I should warn him that I was about to cum, my dick pulsing as fast as his head bobbed.

Almost in answer, he stopped and sat up, the saliva on my dick feeling cold without the heat of his mouth.

"Not yet," Chris said.

He got out of the front seat and sat in the back. I followed and watched as he stripped off his shirt, revealing the smooth, tight muscles smashed together on his stomach and chest. I finally got a good look at his cock when he removed his jeans and boxers. It was probably about seven inches, but it seemed bigger at the time. A short-cropped patch of light brown pubic hair dripped down from his belly button to settle above his cock's base.

When we were both naked, I decided to take a little of the control. I leaned forward and licked the tip of his cock, sucking in his sweet pre-cum. This was the first I had ever been this close to another man's dick, and I didn't want to spend anymore time wondering what cocksucking was like.

I inhaled his dick's head and eased the shaft into my throat. I gagged a little, but Chris' hand slowly guided me and he whispered for me to take it slow. I ran my tongue around the head and shaft the way he had on mine and I heard him moan. Finally, I gripped his ass pulled him deeper into my mouth.

"Stop, I don't want to cum yet," he pleaded.

I pulled off his cock and gave his balls a few licks before asking him what was next.

"I want to fuck you," he told me. "I want to fuck you so hard that the car flips over. I want to fuck you so hard that we tear up the car seat. I want to fuck you so hard that you spray your cum all over everything."

His voice almost made me cum on its own, but I held on. He pushed me down so I was on my back and spread my legs. He reached under the driver's seat and extracted a tube of jelly.

Chris smeared the lube on my ass and then wiped down his cock so it glistened in the sliver of light streaming from the garage's lamp.

He eased the head in first, and once I relaxed, I was able to take it. His cock glided in and out of my asshole and I held onto the seat to keep from slamming into the door. The whole car was shaking and Chris began to pant heavily.

Beads of sweat began forming on his temples and his mouth opened and closed as he moaned with each thrust. His cock felt like it was tearing my asshole at its seams, but each time he rammed it home, I felt my own dick pulse and my cum boil.

My head hit against the door, but I didn't care. I groaned as Christ pumped faster and faster.

He began to grunt, then let out a short shriek as his cum broke loose, burning the inside of ass. He pumped a few more times, and I felt his jizz trickle down my ass to rest on his car seat. Chris leaned forward and rested his head on my shoulder, his sweat cooling my skin.

As his cock began to soften, he sat up.

"Now it's time for you to cum," he said.

He pulled out of my ass and bent down, again taking my throbbing cock into his mouth. He sucked hard on the tip for only seconds before my balls emptied into his mouth. I called out as I shot my jizz deep down his throat, and I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed the entire load.

Chris let my dick flop out of his mouth as he leaned closer and gave me a little taste of myself. We kissed for a little longer before dressing and getting out of the car.

"I'd like to meet with you again, Chris," I said.

He just smiled.

"You know where to find me," he said.

He started the car and drove down the ramp to the street, and I walked back to my own car wondering what time the restaurant opened tomorrow.