Roland had his back to the side wall so he could see almost all of Pinky’s without moving his head. The bar always had live music, even during the day as well as at night, and the band was paying now, with maybe a dozen couples on the dance floor. None of them included the big blond Viking.
Roland was monitoring his alcohol intake carefully. He had no intention of driving home under the influence. He’d had one light beer and was currently drinking a glass of water. He’d have preferred a second beer, but was the kind of man who made plans, decided they were suitable, and stuck to them. His current plan included buying a meal soon. Mr. Claws would be perfectly happy until around eight. Then he’d start pacing and prowling, looking for Roland to return home, or, if he was home already, give him some one-on-one time. If Roland hadn’t appeared by nine, Mr. Claws’s temper would gradually grow, and he would take his vengeance.
It might be an overturned water dish, or a chewed slipper, or, if the cat was very angry, something worse. He’d pushed a vase of flowers off the mantelpiece once, smashing the vase, and ensuring Roland spent the next week picking tiny fragments of ceramic out of the rug. Roland planned to stay here until five past eight, no longer. Unless the Viking appeared, in which case all bets were off and he’d risk the cat’s displeasure.
It was barely six when the blond appeared, alone, and walked straight to the bar and sat down. All thoughts of ordering a meal left Roland. He stood up and went to the bar himself, taking the stool next to Michael.
The bartender stood in front of the blond. “Bad day?” he asked.
“It was fine right until Adelaide tried to drive her car with no oil in the engine.”
“Ouch! Is it still drivable?”
“Oh yes. I got to her in time. That woman has no sense when it comes to machinery though.”
Roland looked down at the polished wood of the bar. Adelaide. A woman in his life. What was he doing in a gay bar if he was heterosexual though? He only looked to be a year or so older than Roland, so he was too young to have a daughter old enough to drive. And he’d described her as a woman, not as a girl or a teenager. Well, fuck!
Dimly, through his own sad thoughts, Roland heard the barman say, “What you need to do is find a good man to marry her off to. Then she won’t be your problem anymore.”
Okay, so it was the blond’s ex-wife. But that was no help to Roland. He didn’t want to be considered responsible for taking Michael away from dealing with his responsibilities. If he’d married this Adelaide woman in good faith, he had to care for her until she found a new man to love herself. That was better than thinking Michael was still married, but if he was bisexual that raised a whole new ballgame of thoughts. He might never emotionally part from his ex-wife because of their shared lives and histories. Did Roland really want an ex-wife in his life? A demanding cat was going to be a big enough distraction. But surely he needed to accept that at their age, people did come with baggage? If he truly liked the man and wanted to get to know him, shouldn’t he be prepared to deal with that baggage as it would affect their relationship?
It was a lot to take in all at once. He hadn’t even really believed he’d see Michael tonight, let alone find out all this information as well. And he’d still never even spoken to him.
Once again he became aware of the bar tender’s voice, only this time it was addressing him. “Would you like another beer?”
“Oh…ah…yes thank you. And I’d better have some food as well.”
“The lasagna is really good today.”
“Okay, thanks. I’ll have that.”
“It sounds good. I’ll have it, too.”
Roland flicked a glance over to the table where he’d been sitting. It was still comparatively early to eat and his little table was empty just as he’d left it. He took his courage in both hands and asked, “Would you like to join me?”
Oh hell, his fingers felt so good. It’d been much too long since he’d had a boyfriend, much, much too long. And Michael was touching him just right, drawing out his feelings, sensitizing his channel, and making him so ready to be fucked. Roland’s dick was as hard as a spike, and his hips were pushing up already, wanting more than just a couple of fingers in his ass. He wanted Michael, all of Michael, in him as soon as possible.
Up and down his hips writhed, trying to force Michael’s fingers deeper, to make him press harder, until he couldn’t wait any longer. “Enough torture. Let’s get on with the main event.”
Roland rolled onto his back and spread his legs wide, planting his feet flat on the mattress while he reached beneath his head to grab the pillows and hand them to Michael.
Michael shoved the pillows under Roland’s ass, tilting it high, and then wiggled his body between Roland’s legs. He pressed his cock at Roland’s back door and Roland had to force himself not to wiggle with expectation and happiness.
* * * *
The moment he’d seen Roland’s naked body Mike had wanted to slam his cock inside Roland and fuck them both until they were exhausted. He wanted Roland with a passion that was unbelievable considering how normal and ordinary the man looked. Until he looked deep into his dark, intelligent eyes, and watched the way his lips tilted up with the faintest hint of his good humor. And the way they thought alike about so many things was uncanny. Even to wearing the same clothing. Mike hadn’t even known what he was going to wear until he’d had his shower and stared out the window to gauge what the weather might be like. Yet they’d worn, not just identical outer clothes, but even the same color socks and jocks. Unbe-fucking-lievable.
They were made for each other. Their minds meshed like no two minds ever had before, and now his dick was working its way deep inside Roland’s heavenly channel. He was so hot and tight Mike could have come the moment he’d breached Roland’s entry, but that wasn’t possible. He planned to fuck Roland’s brains out, and not just once either.
Mike rocked his way deeper inside Roland until his balls were pressed tight against his lover’s skin, and then he gripped Roland’s hair and lifted his face up for another breathtakingly passionate kiss. Only then did he lean back and begin to withdraw. Pulling out was an agony of anguish at leaving that tight heat. But it was temporary. Soon would come the bliss of powering back inside.
In and out Mike drove his cock, sliding as deep as he could on every stroke, taking his time, making sure he drew every last bit of passion from each thrust. Even though he was trying to take his time, doing his best to make every thrust last, he could tell he was moving faster and that Roland wanted him to move yet faster again.
Mike didn’t want to rush. His cock wanted to speed up, and Roland wanted him to speed up, but he intended tonight to be memorable for them both, so very deliberately he gripped Roland’s hips and held his ass a little higher before driving deep once more.
Roland wrapped his legs over Mike’s shoulder digging his heels into Mike’s back in a not-so-subtle hint to get a move on. But Mike was a man with a plan, and that plan involved going slowly enough that they’d both have massive climaxes.