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A new relationship and an old friend

by Christian Maddison 9 months ago in fiction
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What happens when your friend doesn't like your new man?

I got a call from an old friend that I hadn’t seen in a about 4 years. Lorenzo. I met him at QT while we were both at work. My partner introduced us, and we’ve been friends ever since. He was tall, thyck, bald and handsome. His deep voice resonated in the air every time he spoke. My partner and I would chill at his place when we had “down time” at work which wasn’t often. Lorenzo drove a tow truck, but he went further and started driving big rigs. His job transferred him to another state, so we could only talk to each other. Life happens and eventually, we stopped calling each other. It went from daily, to monthly, to every few months.

One day, I got a call. It was Lorenzo! I was SO excited to hear from him. We caught up on what’s been going on and then he told me he was coming “home” for a while. I was ecstatic, then I remembered I had a new boyfriend. Jealousy was his middle name. I explained this to Lorenzo, and he didn’t care since we were friends for longer than I’d been dating Jack. We talked some more, and Lorenzo said he wanted to take me to dinner when he got into town. I asked if Jack could come along before I “asked” Jack if I could go.

He said, “I don’t care but I’m not paying for him.” Fair enough, I said. He said he’d call me when he got to the yard. That night, Jack came over. I told him about Lorenzo, and he gave me a side-eye. I explained the situation of our friendship, but Jack was suspicious. I assured him we were friends, and nothing would change that.

The conversation went on and I “asked” if I could go to dinner with Lorenzo. I asked him if I could go only to show him and our new relationship respect. If it were the old me, he wouldn’t have had a chance to catch me going out the door. No words, no nothing. I would’ve just bounced and not cared what he thought. I told Jack that he could also come along but he’d have to pay for his own meal. He wasn’t happy that I was so gung-ho about going but thought that if he went nothing would “happen.”

A few days later, Lorenzo called to let me know he had made it to the yard. I was excited to see where we were going to dinner. “Where do you want to go?” he asked. I’m not sure yet. Oh, let’s go to Longhorn. “Ok, wherever you want to go is fine with me.” He said. “And you’re ok with the boyfriend coming right?” I asked. “Yeah, if he wants to.” He said. We chatted a while, set a time for dinner and eventually hung up. Later that day, I let Jack know what time dinner was and asked if he wanted to go. He said he wanted to go but had an attitude. I kissed him and proceeded to get ready.

Lorenzo comes to my house, parks his truck, and rings the bell. I answer the door, let him in and give him a big hug. Then I introduce him to Jack and ask if he’s ready to go. We pile up in my car and head to dinner. Once there, we waited a few minutes before we were seated. Our table was in the middle of the room. Lorenzo sat to my right while Jack was on my left. Our waitress came to get our drink orders. She was trying to figure out the table situation. Who was I with? She mistook me for Lorenzo’s’ wife. I quickly corrected her.

Jack mad level, 1. While looking at the menu, I tried to engage Jack and make him feel special. I knew he was uncomfortable and really didn’t want to be there. Then Lorenzo said, “I really wasn’t expecting you to come.” Jack took it as though he wasn’t actually invited but I knew what he meant. He wasn’t expecting him to come be a third wheel. Jack became madder, level 2, but he ordered and ate good. Dinner over and after the drinks have flowed, I asked our waitress to come to our table. I asked her if she was single and looking. She smiled and giggled. I told her Lorenzo was single. I was trying to take the spotlight off me. She gave him her number; he paid our bill and Jack paid his and we left. Still wanting to drink a little more, we went to a grocery store and got some beer.

Once we made it to my house, Lorenzo sat on one couch and Jack and I on the other. Eventually, we drank up everything we bought and as the night became longer and the conversation became stiff, Jack went to my bedroom. I followed and let him know I’d be back. My friend was spending the night on the couch, and I wanted him to be comfortable. That sent Jack over the edge.

He grabbed me and fussed a bit, but I still wanted to make sure my friend was okay. I gave Lorenzo a blanket and pillow and told him goodnight. He told me he probably wouldn’t stay long, and he’d lock up if he left and would call me later. I went to my room, locked the door, looking at Jack sitting on the edge of my bed, head hanging, looking pitiful. I stood between his legs and asked what the problem was?

Jack looks up at me and tells me how he feels about me and that he allowed his jealousy to get the best of him. Shocked, I hugged his head. He’s had a lot to drink and must be confused. He proceeds to kiss me and apologize for his behavior during the course of the evening. Again, he professes his feelings.

I began to undress. Jack continues to sit on the edge of my bed, sulking. I showered and got into bed. I asked Jack if he was going to do the same and he quietly went to the bathroom. I just laughed. He was being silly over nothing. When he finally decided to crawl into bed, he thought it would be a good time to “try me.” We never really talked about sex, and we had only been together for a few months at this point. He didn’t seem ready as drunk as he was, and I wasn’t trying to be disappointed. So, I pretended to be sleep and waited for him to do the same.

The next morning, Lorenzo was gone. The blanket folded nicely on the couch with the pillow on top. I called him to see if he was ok. No answer. No problem. We’d talk later. Jack finally woke up, looking like “death warmed over” as the country people say. “Good morning, sir.” I said to him. “Would you like to eat something”? I asked. He looked at me funny. “Why you ask me that”? He asked. “Because I thought you may be hungry, duh.” I replied snidely. “Plus, I know you don’t cook, so that means I’d have to do it for you.” I said. Again, he just looked at me. “Something on your mind”? I asked as I headed to the kitchen. “No.” Jack said. “Ok, so tell me what you want to eat.” I said to him. He slowly follows me into the kitchen looking puzzled. “Where’s your friend”? He asked melodically as if he wanted to accuse me of something. “I don’t know, he was gone when I woke up.” I explained. Jack sits at the dining room table with his head in his hands. “Maybe you should go back to bed, you don’t look too good.” I said to Jack. “Why did you have me there last night? I felt so uncomfortable.” Jack said.

“Well, I wanted you to meet my friend and not have you think badly about me going out with him.” I said. “You know you could’ve called a cab, if you were so uncomfortable.” I explained to Jack as he sat at the table looking like a lost puppy. I brought his plate to the table, sat down across from him, and waited for him to say grace. “I’m not really hungry.” Jack stated as he pushed away from the table. He grabbed my hand, pulled me from my chair and escorted me back to my room. Jack looked at me as though he wanted to take a bite out of me. He came closer and gently kissed my forehead. Somehow, in one motion, my pajamas came off and I was laying on the bed looking up at the ceiling. “What was going on”? I thought to myself. “What just happened”? I was amazed at what Jack had just done. Now, Jack’s head between my thighs, I became excited at what was about to take place. His warm tongue caressed my creamy cavern and enveloped it. Tenderly flogging every part with gradual intensity. His tongue danced around my budding flower as though it was a bee in search of a place to pollinate. My body trembled with pleasure as Jack continued to hum and blow his way around my velvety blossom. Burrowing his nose deep inside as though he was a truffle pig finding a prize.

“He’s good at this,” I thought. It only grew better, as he began to suck and kiss at every part of my tender lips awaiting the surge of my desires to overcome his cravings. One last flick of his tongue and a reverberation exited my mouth, and my loins echoed the sentiment as the river flowed beneath me. Satisfied, Jack looked up with a smirk on his face. He flipped me over and introduced his hard pickle into my still dripping hole. A few pumps and I no longer felt the stiffness I was enjoying just a few moments ago. Noticing that the excitement was waning, he introduced a strong, thick finger into my ass. Surprised and distracted, I waited for his “big finish.” Not being able to feel him anymore, I opted to get on top. This mountain of a man was about to get the “ride of his life,” but first; I needed to find out what was going on downstairs.

I glided my lips down his stomach onto his flaccid shaft. “What”? I thought to myself as I slid his rod into my mouth. “Is he not excited or is it me? Am I not turning him on or sexy enough”? I said to myself as I twisted my tongue around the tip. Just then, he began to rise, and a deep moan parted from his lips. He was definitely a “grower and not a shower.”

As my down stroke became faster, the wails of lust escaped his aperture with force. “Yes, yes”! Jack repeated in a tempo and sequence that became a cadence until he reached the pinnacle of satisfaction. Before I could slide a leg to the floor, Jack grabbed me, flipped me and dove his head into my sweet wanting pool of yearning, again. His tongue pulsed as it teased my globe of wanting into submission. The high-pitched squeal exited my lips like I was Leontyne Price singing my first operatic arpeggio.

This time I was ready. Pushing him back onto the pillow, I knew what I had to do. Seizing his love handle, I tried to sling it down my throat and conquer his pulsating pea pod. Right before I believed he would “fire” upon my mounds of pleasure; I stopped, climbed on top of the bull, and decided to “ride till my heart’s content.” The minute I sat down; it all began to go “downhill.” To make sure I had him in position, I gave his sword a squeeze. Jack jumped and screamed. I stopped. “Are you ok? Did I hurt you”? I asked. “No, I’m ok. Just wasn’t expecting that and it hurt a little”. I glared at Jack like he was crazy. “What do you mean it hurt”? I asked confused. I wanted to tell him that he was the first to say it hurt and must have been losing his mind.

Maybe it was because he was a “Lord Farquad” or he had never been with anyone who could do it. I was done and my night ruined. “He couldn’t be this bad.” I thought to myself as I rolled over. I know that oftentimes the first time isn’t great, but he continually went on “marshmallow mode,” at least 3 times! He seemed happy; I wasn’t.

I woke up the next morning, hopped in the shower and began breakfast afterwards. I guess the smell of bacon woke Jack up, because he strolled into the kitchen with the biggest smile on his face. “Good morning.” He said as he kissed my cheek softly. “My, my” I said looking up at him. “Your tone has changed; you must feel better.” I said as I chuckled. “I do thanks to you.” Jack exalted. “What do you mean by that sir”? I questioned. “It means, I’m looking forward to tonight.” He said happily. “Oh really.” I said as I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t looking forward to anything else. He was such a disappointment, and I didn’t know how to tell him without hurting his feelings. I tried not to compare him to others from my past, but it was hard. They were so skilled at what they did it felt like a symphony playing a concerto. His tongue skills were on point, but the rest of the dance was discombobulated and strange.

We needed to talk, and I think I knew how. I began asking questions of his likes and dislikes. It was a back and forth “game.” I asked, he answered. Then he got to ask the same four questions, and I would answer. My final question was, “What did you enjoy or dislike from last night”? Jack said it was “all great” until I seized his joystick. The way he said it, made it seem as though I snatched it off and threw it away. I giggled a bit because it was funny. Then I told him that he needed to go to the doctor to make sure his heart was ok and maybe they could check him for E.D. He became furious, pushed away from the table, and stormed off to the bedroom. He said he had to get ready for work, got dressed and walked out the door. Later that night he called me, apologized for his behavior, and asked if I could bring him lunch. I agreed and headed over to his job. Once I arrived, I handed over the bag of food. He hugged me and said he’d be home in a few hours. I wanted to make sure I was sleep by the time he got home. I just wasn’t in the mood to be let down again. A few nights later, it was a repeat of the previous disenchantment that occurred several nights before. I became restless and frustrated by the situation. Once he discharged his love juice, he was done. No “round 2 or 3” for that matter and that wasn’t working for me.

I allowed this to go on for a month until I finally had to make the decision. I had to be happy, fulfilled, gratified, and satiated, in all my needs and desires. He just wasn’t “cutting the mustard” and had to go. I asked him one night if he could come over either before or after work. He agreed to after work. I’m guessing he thought it was a better chance for him to get some and sleep over. Nope. This was the end.

Jack rang the bell, I opened the door and let him in. Gave him a hug and kiss and asked if he wanted to sit. Then, I began my speech. “Jack,” I said. “You’re a great guy, smart, talented and tall. Just not for me. Maybe we met at the wrong time, or the age difference is too great but, I know I can’t continue in this situation. I’ve enjoyed our times together, but the sex isn’t what I’m used to. It’s just not good. Don’t get me wrong, the skills you do possess are wonderful but it’s not enough. I don’t feel you’re turned on by me or that I excite you because it never stays firm for long and it’s become problematic. Dating you has been challenging at times, but I thought I could work through the rest. I can’t, and with that, I’ve packed anything you may have left here in the bag by the door.”

He sat on the couch, stunned. He didn’t know what to say and I was done talking. Jack looked up at me from the couch, stood up, kissed me on the forehead, grabbed the bag and walked out the door. The next day he called several times. I refused to answer, and he persisted. Finally, I picked up. “Yes, how may I help you”? I asked. “Can I have another chance please”? He begged. “I won’t say this again, so hear me clearly, No, and don’t call me again.” I said callously. He continued to call and eventually it became less and less. I don’t regret what and how I did what I did but at times I do miss his limber language skills.

fiction

About the author

Christian Maddison

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