Brad wasn't crazy about London, all in all. The cliched
rain
was indeed ever-present, purgatory to someone used to sunny Southern
California.
The food was beyond dreadful; these people ate things
like tongue and brains, and appeared to like them. The British
audiences of Whose Line is it Anyway? delighted in coming up with
suggestions for games that were peculiar to Britain, just to fuck
with the American players. All in good fun, of course, Brad told
himself crossly.
There were bright spots, of course. It
was a coup to be
chosen for "Whose Line." The audition was rigorous, and
though some
people got on the show and flopped spectacularly, getting a spot at
all meant that you were one of the best in improvisational comedy.
Brad liked getting to work with talented Brits like Steve Frost,
Josie Lawrence, and especially Tony Slattery, as well as his fellow
North Americans. Tony was absolutely fascinating, willing to do
anything onstage for a laugh, and a prototype reserved Englishman
when the cameras weren't rolling. Brad felt sure that he could
learn a lot from Tony.
Brad thought umbrellas were more trouble
than they were worth
to carry around, so he wandered around Chelsea with just a jacket and
a baseball cap to shield him from the misty rain. He didn't have a
taping scheduled for tonight, and felt at loose ends. He saw a sign
ahead for W.H. Smith's, and decided a good book was exactly what he
needed for the evening. He went inside, glad to get out of the
drizzle.
"Brad."
Brad turned at the sound of his name, spoken
in a rich, warm,
cultured English voice. Tony Slattery stood behind him, arms loaded
with books. Tony had varied taste in literature, from the looks of
it, his selections including Marcel Proust and
the latest John
Grisham.
Brad felt an unexpectedly strong jolt of
pleasure at seeing
Tony. He didn't realize until that moment, seeing him away from the
set, just how magnetic the dark haired, dark eyed Brit was. He
exuded a charm that Brad would almost have called sexual, had he been
inclined in that direction. It was easy to see why so many people,
male as well as female, found Tony devastatingly attractive.
"I'm glad I ran into you," Tony
said. Again, Brad felt that
odd thrill. He's glad he ran into me? Oh, wow, he thought,
before
he caught himself. Geez, dude, you're
acting like you've got a crush
on this guy. What's wrong with you? He felt suddenly unsettled,
the
notion crashing into him like a wave that maybe he did have a small
crush on Tony. He certainly noticed him physically like he had never
before noticed another man. Tony's clean, musky scent teased Brad's
nostrils, making his groin tighten slightly. He realized that Tony
was looking at him with his brows furrowed with concern.
"I'm sorry, I just…" He
couldn't even get it together enough
to come up with a polite fiction to account for his momentary
inattention to Tony's words. Brad was staggered by the idea that he
could find himself sexually attracted to another man. He tugged at
his jacket collar, wishing the bookstore was about ten degrees
cooler.
Tony's eyes narrowed fractionally, and Brad
realized that he
hadn't missed that nervous gesture. Brad furiously tried to contain
the blush that followed, but it was hopeless. Anyone of average
intelligence could see that he was nervous and uncomfortable, and
Tony was brilliant. He felt at that moment as if Tony could see
through him.
"You could use a drink," said
Tony, depositing the pile of
unpurchased books on the counter, and
guiding Brad out of the store.
He kept a firm, comforting grip on Brad's arm for several blocks,
then steered him into a small, dark pub, weaving through the early
evening crowd to a table at the back. Brad felt as though the touch
on his arm was burning him, and he didn't know whether to jerk away
or lean into it. His awareness of Tony seemed to have snowballed in
the last few minutes, and his cock throbbed to life as his thigh
brushed Tony's as they sat down. His heart was racing, and he
drained the beer Tony had ordered for him in two great gulps. Tony
signaled the waitress for another round.
"Now, then, what's got you looking like
you've seen a ghost?"
Brad couldn't tell if Tony knew the source of his distress or not,
but he couldn't understand how Tony could not feel the sexual energy
that thrummed around them. Tony touched the back of Brad's hand,
and Brad jumped, nearly knocking over his glass. The concern was
back in Tony's eyes, and a bit of sadness. "You've heard rumors
about me, I'm guessing."
"Rumors?"
Brad hadn't expected that.
"About my
preferences. Sexual preferences," he continued,
when Brad looked blank. "You needn't worry, I don't attack
innocent young American boys," he said with a rueful grin.
"No, I haven't heard anything about
that," Brad said.
"Then if you don't mind my asking, what
got into you when you
saw me? I would have sworn you were fine before that, but you seem
ready to jump out of your skin."
Brad didn't feel ready to confess to Tony
that he was the
object of his first ever crush on a man, but he couldn't bear for
Tony to think that he disliked him in any way, or that he made Brad
uncomfortable. He didn't know Tony very well, but he knew that he
was far too perceptive to believe any lie that Brad, in his brain-
locked condition, could make up. There was nothing else for it but
to tell him.
"I'm straight," Brad said.
"I assumed you were, having no evidence
to the contrary,"
replied Tony, with a small, encouraging smile.
"At least, I've always thought of
myself as straight. I
never even went through any kind of experimental phase." He couldn't
believe he was saying this out loud. "But when I saw you just
now…"
Tony lifted one eyebrow questioningly, and
the gesture made
Brad's stomach tighten in longing.
"When I saw you just now, I realized
how attractive you were."
"It's perfectly all right for a man to
recognize that another
man is attractive, Brad. It doesn't mean you're gay, if that's what
you're worried about."
"It was more than that. I… I
realized that I love the way
you smell, the way you look. It's not just that I recognized it.
I realized that I wanted to touch you."
Tony looked taken aback, but he didn't seem
displeased. Brad
decided to soldier on.
"I realized that I wanted to kiss
you. Right there in the
bookstore." He swallowed. "I want to kiss you right
now. Very
badly."
"Brad, I didn't realize you felt
this way. I'm very
flattered."
"Flattered.
Great. That's what I always say to girls I'm
not interested in. I'm very flattered. Now go away and leave me
alone. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you."
"No, Brad." Tony laid his
hand across Brad's briefly. "I'm
glad you did, if that's how you feel. When I say I'm flattered, I
don't mean at your interest, although I am, greatly. I mean I'm
flattered that you trusted me enough to tell me. I know it can't
have been easy. In fact, I'm sure it was scary as hell to say a
word about it."
Brad nodded at this statement. It was
all too true.
"Like I said earlier, I assumed you
were completely straight.
So did you, apparently," he said, smiling his trademark boyish
grin. "I would never have approached you myself. But you
can't
be unaware that you're a very handsome lad, and I can tell you
that I've been aware of it from the moment I met you. If I'd had
any idea you might be receptive, I'd have set out trying to
seduce you weeks ago."
"Really?" was all Brad could think
of to say.
"Really.
So now that you've admitted to yourself that you
find another man attractive, namely me, I'm very pleased to add,
what are you going to do?"
"Do?" Brad felt like
an idiot with his one-syllable
responses, but his brain was in too much turmoil from a combination
of fear and desire for him to be any more articulate.
Tony took pity on him, and spelled it
out. "Do you mean to
act on it, or having admitted it, are you just going to forget about
it? I would be terribly disappointed if you decided not to come home
with me tonight, but I would understand." He placed his hand on
Brad's thigh, making erotic little circles with his fingers. "I want
nothing more in the world than to make love to you, but it has to be
your decision. Like I said, I don't attack innocent American boys."
Brad made his decision. "What if
the American boy isn't so
innocent, and he wants to be
attacked?" He took Tony's hand and
guided it to his denim-covered crotch, placing it firmly over his
raging erection.
Tony called for the check.
It was terribly difficult for Brad to keep
his hands to
himself on the cab ride to Tony's flat, but he wasn't ready to out
himself publicly. They discussed the show until they reached their
destination, then walked calmly from the street up
the steps to
Tony's door. Once they were inside and the door was firmly closed
and locked, Brad turned to reach for Tony, but found himself
suddenly
shy. He felt like a virgin on prom night.
"Make yourself comfortable, and I'll
get us something else to
drink," said Tony, heading for the kitchen. Brad took off his
jacket
and wandered around the living room, taking in the books on the
shelves and the prints on the walls, but his mind was racing. What
had he gotten himself into? What if he couldn't go through with
it?
He never in his life thought there would ever be a time when he would
consider himself a prick tease. He had never imagined being in a
situation where someone else's prick would even be an issue.
Tony set two large neat whiskeys on the
coffee table, and
placed both his hands on Brad's shoulders. The warm strength in
those hands felt so good. Tony turned Brad around to face him.
"It's all right if you change your
mind. We can just have a
drink and call it an evening." Tony's gaze burned with lust, but
Brad could see the sincerity in his eyes.
Brad took a deep, steadying breath, his eyes
locked on Tony's.
He didn't want to disappoint Tony, but more than that, he knew that
he really did want to do this. He knew there was the possibility
of regret if he had sex with another man, but he knew that he would
definitely be sorry if he didn't take advantage of this opportunity
to be intimate with Tony. He wanted him too much to turn back.
He
placed his lips on Tony's.
The tentative contact made Tony smile.
He took Brad's hand
and led him to the sofa, sitting next to him. "Are you
sure?"
"Would you please make love to
me?" Brad pleaded.
This time, when their lips touched, the
contact was firm and
demanding. Tony eased Brad's lips apart with his tongue, and gently
explored his mouth. The deepening kiss made Brad feel lightheaded
with desire. He placed one hand on Tony's thigh, and the other
behind his neck, drawing him closer. The feel of Tony's rough,
masculine face against his own, the large, calloused hands caressing
his back through his shirt, was the most erotic thing Brad had ever
experienced.
Tony used his other hand to unbutton Brad's
shirt, his tongue
invading Brad's mouth in imitation of copulation. Brad groaned
loudly with pleasure as Tony slipped his hand inside the shirt and
pulled it out of his jeans, then eased it down
over his arms. Brad
flung the shirt away, and began to tug Tony's light sweater over his
head. They broke the kiss just long enough to toss away the sweater,
and ran their hands over each other's bare chest. Brad was deeply
excited by Tony's flat nipples and crisp hair, so like his own.
Tony straddled Brad's hips and pressed him deeper into the sofa
cushions, moving his lips to nibble Brad's ears and neck. Brad
thought at that moment that he could not become any more aroused,
only to be taken even higher still. He tugged at Tony's belt, then
lowered his zipper. His hand stilled for a moment as he hesitated.
He had never touched another man's penis before. Telling himself
not to be such a fucking wimp, he reached inside and placed his hand
on Tony's erection, covered now only by his underwear. Tony stood
up and allowed Brad to push his slacks down over his hips, then his
briefs. Brad was mesmerized at the sight of Tony's erect cock
staring straight at him. He reached out to touch it with a mixture
of fear and reverence. Tony sucked in a breath as Brad touched a
finger to the silky soft head, coaxing forth a drop of moisture.
Tony then pulled Brad to his feet, and undid his jeans. In moments,
both men were completely nude.
Brad stood still, unsure what to do
next. Tony pushed him
gently back onto the sofa and knelt between his legs. Eyes locked
with Brad's, he reached forward to take Brad's stiff member into his
firm grasp, and began to stroke it from tip to base. Brad struggled
to keep from coming as the other man's touch seemed to set fire to
his body. Brad thought he would die from the pleasure when Tony's
dark head lowered to take him gently into his mouth. Tony sucked
gently at first, then with increasing pressure, as he moved his head
up and down on Brad's engorged shaft. Brad knew he couldn't hold on
much longer, and when Tony carefully slid a finger between Brad's ass
cheeks to touch his anus, Brad cried out. "Oh fuck, I'm going to
come," he shouted hoarsely, wanting to warn the Englishman. He
was surprised when Tony sucked even harder, and took the eruption
of hot fluid down his throat. Brad spasmed
in ecstasy as Tony
swallowed every drop of semen. Tony moved up Brad's body to kiss
him, and let him taste deeply of his own come.
After a few moments' rest, Brad tentatively
wrapped his
fingers around Tony's rigid cock. With Tony's encouragement, he
moved his hand slowly up and down, using the same rhythm he used on
himself when masturbating. He was rewarded with a low moan of
pleasure from his new lover, and gripped harder. "Oh my fucking
lord, that feels so good," Tony groaned. Brad pushed Tony down
to
lie upon his back, and went down on his knees next to the sofa. He
touched the tip of Tony's dick with his tongue. The cock leapt in
response, and Tony buried his hands in Brad's hair, silently pleading
with him to take more of the length into his mouth. Eager to give
Tony the same kind of pleasure he himself had gotten, Brad swallowed
several more inches. He couldn't take any more, so he gripped the
remaining shaft with his fist and pumped it while he moved his head
back and forth on the last two or three inches. Tony bucked his hips
and cried out. Brad stopped, not ready to let Tony come in his
mouth. Tony smiled at Brad, then pushed him gently away, and wrapped
his own fist around his swollen prick. He finished himself off with
a series of rapid jerks, spraying come all over his own chest. Brad
was sure that if he wasn't so spent, he would have been rock hard
again right then, from the sight and sounds of Tony's orgasm.
Brad leaned over to kiss Tony's sweat
covered face. He
couldn't believe that a mere two hours before, the idea that he'd
ever have sex with a man had never occurred to him. As Tony took his
hand and led him to the bathroom for long shower, where Tony washed
him and brought him to another mind-blowing climax, he felt like a
new world was opened up to him. He was glad he had come to
England.