It was going terribly. Brad was in a horrible mood. He hated his swordfish. He wished he’d stuck to water instead of the red wine the sommelier had picked for him. Hell he didn’t even like wine. He couldn’t believe he’d worn a dinner jacket for this. Nate sat across the table from him, hands folded features steadily resolving into a tight-lipped frown. It had taken Nate two weeks to book a table here, but Brad couldn’t stop himself.
He just couldn’t get over how angry he was at the latest buffoonery that Encino Man had gotten up to, and it was poisoning everything. Finally Nate waved down the waiter with a pantomimed gesture for signing the check. When it came he handed off his credit card without checking the bill, and then wiped his mouth, calculated the tip when it came back, and stuck his credit card back into his wallet.
Brad blinked at him.
“Up, Brad,” Nate said and gestured to the door.
Brad stood up and found himself being herded out of the restaurant and into an alley way. “Nate, what—” Nate pushed him up against a brick wall, and efficiently pulled his belt free of his pants, before working on Brad’s jeans. Brad goggled at him. “I don’t—”
“Don’t speak,” Nate replied, pulling his dick free and encircling it with his fist. Brad swallowed as Nate dropped to his knees and sucked the head of his dick into his mouth. He teased, tongue swirling, pushing into the slit, holding himself right at the tip. Brad stared at him, mouth agape. Nate looked up, catching his eyes, and slowly brought his mouth down the shaft, until Brad hit the back of his throat.
“Jesus,” Brad cried out, not knowing what to do with his hands. Nate sucked hard, bobbing his head, coaxing a full body shiver out of Brad. He pulled off, hand sliding the take up the slack, to stare at Brad. Nate’s mouth was that abused red it got if he so much as ran his tongue across it. He blinked up at Brad and smiled lazily, hand still stroking slowly up and down, sticky with his own spit.
Brad moaned and trembled and finally Nate bent his head again to lick the tip. He pushed hard under the crown of his dick with his thumb and sucked, mouth sliding to meet his fingers. Brad couldn’t help it, he had to touch Nate. He stroked nerveless fingers through Nate’s perfectly gelled hair, and nearly comes apart at the sound Nate’s makes, mouth stretched so tight around his cock.
He breathes out through his nose and swallows, trying so hard to last. But the way Nate looks at him, the way his cock looks sliding between Nate’s plush lips. He can’t take it. He comes bent in on himself, his fingers caught in Nate’s hair. Nate swallows convulsively around him, through his orgasm and the last aftershocks. He pulls off, while Brad leans back against the wall, breathing hard, and carefully puts him back into his pants.
As he zips Brad up and rebuckles his belt, he says, “I hope you’re in a better mood now.”
“I—yeah,” Brad mumbles, still not quite sure how that just happened.
“Good, you can buy me a burger for making me miss my four star tuna tartare,” Nate replies. He brings a hand across his mouth, wiping it off.
Brad leans in and presses a kiss to the corner of Nate’s mouth, tongue darting out to catch the taste of his own come. Nate makes an amused noise in the back of his throat and turns his head to make it a real kiss.
Horrible First Date (with bonus blowjob that I never write)
He just couldn’t get over how angry he was at the latest buffoonery that Encino Man had gotten up to, and it was poisoning everything. Finally Nate waved down the waiter with a pantomimed gesture for signing the check. When it came he handed off his credit card without checking the bill, and then wiped his mouth, calculated the tip when it came back, and stuck his credit card back into his wallet.
Brad blinked at him.
“Up, Brad,” Nate said and gestured to the door.
Brad stood up and found himself being herded out of the restaurant and into an alley way. “Nate, what—” Nate pushed him up against a brick wall, and efficiently pulled his belt free of his pants, before working on Brad’s jeans. Brad goggled at him. “I don’t—”
“Don’t speak,” Nate replied, pulling his dick free and encircling it with his fist. Brad swallowed as Nate dropped to his knees and sucked the head of his dick into his mouth. He teased, tongue swirling, pushing into the slit, holding himself right at the tip. Brad stared at him, mouth agape. Nate looked up, catching his eyes, and slowly brought his mouth down the shaft, until Brad hit the back of his throat.
“Jesus,” Brad cried out, not knowing what to do with his hands. Nate sucked hard, bobbing his head, coaxing a full body shiver out of Brad. He pulled off, hand sliding the take up the slack, to stare at Brad. Nate’s mouth was that abused red it got if he so much as ran his tongue across it. He blinked up at Brad and smiled lazily, hand still stroking slowly up and down, sticky with his own spit.
Brad moaned and trembled and finally Nate bent his head again to lick the tip. He pushed hard under the crown of his dick with his thumb and sucked, mouth sliding to meet his fingers. Brad couldn’t help it, he had to touch Nate. He stroked nerveless fingers through Nate’s perfectly gelled hair, and nearly comes apart at the sound Nate’s makes, mouth stretched so tight around his cock.
He breathes out through his nose and swallows, trying so hard to last. But the way Nate looks at him, the way his cock looks sliding between Nate’s plush lips. He can’t take it. He comes bent in on himself, his fingers caught in Nate’s hair. Nate swallows convulsively around him, through his orgasm and the last aftershocks. He pulls off, while Brad leans back against the wall, breathing hard, and carefully puts him back into his pants.
As he zips Brad up and rebuckles his belt, he says, “I hope you’re in a better mood now.”
“I—yeah,” Brad mumbles, still not quite sure how that just happened.
“Good, you can buy me a burger for making me miss my four star tuna tartare,” Nate replies. He brings a hand across his mouth, wiping it off.
Brad leans in and presses a kiss to the corner of Nate’s mouth, tongue darting out to catch the taste of his own come. Nate makes an amused noise in the back of his throat and turns his head to make it a real kiss.
Brad’s not sure how he managed before Nate.