As I Am

He let out a throaty chuckle and my sphincter twitched at the caress of his warm breath. He gave me several more teasing licks before he wrenched my hips higher and got down to the business of orally pleasuring my fuckhole. Holy Fuck. The things that man was doing to me were making me see stars. White lights were flashing on the back of my closed eyelids and my head was swimming from pure unadulterated ecstasy. I never wanted him to stop eating me out. That is, until he slipped a finger inside me. Then I just wanted him to fuck me raw.

"You're so fucking tight, Nash." He had two fingers in me and I could feel them gliding in and out, massaging my channel, and rubbing my prostate. I was gasping and clawing at the bedding below me. I would have responded but I was beyond coherent speech. "When you said it had been a long time, I didn't think that you meant never."

He pushed a third finger in me and I hissed. He paused, letting me adjust and giving me the chance to string some words together in English. "Not a virgin," I croaked out. It wasn't exactly verbose but it was the best I could do at the time and it got my point across.

He took that as his queue to start moving his fingers again. "Are you sure that you want to do this?"

I pushed my upper body up with my hands and pressed back against his questing digits, moaning loudly, "Fuck me, Nicky."

He hesitated. "I don't want to damage you."

I growled and bumped back into him harder. "Now." He chuckled softly. My impatience was amusing him. Wonderful. "Please, Nicky," I begged. "I need you."

His fingers halted all movement for a moment. I was terrified that he was going to refuse and leave me high and dry with this powerful need. Then he withdrew his fingers and I heard the tearing of the foil packet. I didn't think it was possible but my desire spiked even higher at the unmistakable sound. The few seconds that it took for him to prep himself seemed like an eternity.

He eased his way into me and I dropped my head down on the bed, grit my teeth, and huffed through the pain.

"Jesus, you feel so incredibly amazing," he groaned. "If you weren't so fucking tight, I'd be pounding the ever-loving fuck out of you right now."

"Do it," I ground out through my teeth. "I can take it."

"No, you can't, Lover," he said softly. The obvious affection in his voice washed over me like a balm. He flattened his palm out on my back and gently rubbed me in soothing circles. "Relax, Nash. Let me take care of you."

I should have taken his advice. I was known for my patience and calm demeanor in a crisis, but this man was tripping all of my triggers and making me bat-shit crazy with lust. He was already the best lover that I had ever had and we had barely gotten past the point of oral. He obviously knew what he was doing but I was needy and anxious. I tried to rock back into him to force him to fuck me or, at the very least, to fuck myself on his cock. He gripped my hips and held me still. His fingers were digging into my flanks with enough pressure to bruise, so unless I wanted to fight with him, I was going to have to wait.

We waited.

I don't know what kind of indication he was looking for but, whatever it was, he must have gotten it. He began short, gentle thrusts that slowly lengthened until he was longdicking me. It felt so fucking good. It had been a very long time since I'd been fucked but I couldn't remember it ever feeling as fantastic. I could feel each and every inch as he burrowed inside me, stretching me, filling me in the steady rhythm of a heartbeat. After a couple of minutes, he shoved my body down flat, straddled my hips, and violently plunged his full length into me. The very first drive slammed into my prostate and I shouted out my pleasure.

"Fuck yes, Nash," he crooned. "Scream for me."

I did. My moans and cries were easily loud enough to mask the crude slap of skin on skin and the sloppy wet squelch of his thick rod wrecking my hole. The sounds coming out of me were primal and wild. I didn't even recognize myself. I was so drunk on pleasure, my body was wracked with it, convulsing and quivering like never before. Every molecule in my body was alive with sensation as he brutally drilled into my sweet spot, over and over. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over me as he plundered and pounded into me. By the time I slipped my hand under my stomach and took ahold of my leaking, achy prick, I barely had time to get my fingers around it before I exploded, screaming as I shattered into millions of pieces. He tripped immediately after I did.

He yelled one long, drawn out, "Fuck!" Then he collapsed on top of me, his chest flush with my back.

We lay there for some time, desperately trying to reconnect with reality. He could lie on top of me forever. I didn't care. I loved having his weight on me, feeling him crush me into the mattress. I keened softly when he raised up and slowly withdrew from my channel.

"Are you okay?" His breathy whisper huffed across my ear.

"No," I replied, just as quietly. "Pretty sure that I died because this has got to be Heaven."

His chuckle was broken from the lack of being able to draw a complete breath. "I don't think they have to use condoms in Heaven."

He kissed me gently on the back of my shoulder. I turned my head to watch him climb off me and sit on the edge of the bed to remove the offending article in question. "You prefer to bareback?"

He tied off the rubber and glanced up at me. "I don't know. I never have. Have you?"

"Yes." I explained, "My first boyfriend. We were together for a year before he stole a bunch of my shit and split."

He grimaced and tossed the spent latex in the wastebasket. "We both know how to pick them, don't we?"

"Will you stay the night?" I asked.

He looked surprised. "Do you want me to?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "I'd really like that."

I had to smile at his quirky grin. He glanced up at the dawn's light peeking around the edges of the dark curtained window. "The night is about over."

I shook my head again and shifted my exhausted body enough to both get under the covers and to give him room. "It's not morning until we wake up."

He slipped under the blankets, rolled onto his side facing away from me, and scooted backwards until his back rested against my chest, taking the place of the little spoon.

I reached behind me for the remote on the nightstand, turned off the overhead light, and turned on the ceiling fan. Setting down the remote, I snuggled Nick's body into mine and kissed the shell of his ear. "Goodnight, Nicky."

**

I woke up slowly and opened my eyes to see that Nick had rolled away from me in his sleep. He was face down on the bed beside me with his head facing the other direction and his arms and legs splayed out like a starfish, taking up far more than his fair share of the bed. I couldn't help but smile.

I glanced at the clock. It was barely past ten. I'm an early riser. I always have been. Early being a relative term based on the fact that I work until nearly three. However, I'm not, by nature, a gracious morning person. But waking up with Nick in my bed definitely made me happy, even if I couldn't see his gorgeous face. I was always the first one awake in the morning when I still lived with my estranged family. Which had meant that it was my responsibility to make the coffee. I leaned over to softly kiss the back of Nick's exposed shoulder and carefully climbed out of bed so as not to wake him.

After padding into the kitchen to start the coffee brewing, I went to take a shower and wash the evidence of the night's activities off my body. I was running my fingertips over my scalp, followed by the razor when I found any errant stubble, when there was a quiet tap on the bathroom door.

"It's open," I called out.

The chilled air filling the room as the door was pushed open gave me goosebumps. "I'm sorry. Can I come in? I need to go."

"Of course," I replied through the curtain. "Just please don't flush."

His warm chuckle echoed slightly just before I heard the splash of his urine stream hitting the bowl. I froze, hardly breathing, just listening to the sound of him pissing. I don't know why it turned me on but it did. I'd never been aroused by the act of another man answering the call of nature before but this man did things to me that I didn't understand and couldn't even begin to evaluate. I took a shuddering breath at the sound of the final trickle and splash. I was back to checking the back of my scalp when he nudged the curtain.

His voice seemed a little hesitant as he asked, "Can I join you?"

He sounded like the timid man I had met at the beginning of the night and I hoped that I wasn't going to have to cajole him back into the confident man that had shared my bed. "Sure. Be my guest."

I stepped back against the back wall of the shower to let him get under the spray. He moaned in delight as the hot water rained down over his perfect body. He tilted his head back and combed his fingers through his hair, wetting it under the spray. I just watched as the water careened down his sculpted chest and abs in rivulets. I had the urge to chase it with my tongue.

My voice cracked as I husked, "You're really incredibly beautiful."

He tilted his chin back down to look at me. "Thank you." His eyes scanned down my body slowly, lingering on my growing arousal, which just had the effect of making it swell further. He smirked wryly and raised his heated gaze back to mine. "I thought you were one of Alli's clients."

It took me a second, due to lack of blood to the brain, to figure out that he was talking about me shaving. I nodded. "Neck down. I can't imagine letting Alli at my face. She's not the gentlest of touches. And I don't know anyone who has their scalp waxed. I can't even imagine how painful that would be."

He laughed, "But you let her wax your balls?"

I grinned. "She numbs that area first."

He sniffed the body wash before he poured some into his hand. "I guess the chance of you having shampoo is nil, huh?"

I laughed. "Yeah. Sorry. Shampoo and conditioner are an expense that I don't have to worry about. But I more than make up for it with the cost of razors."

Watching him rub his hands all over his body, lathering himself up, was making my dick throb. If I hadn't been so sore I would have turned around and begged for him to take me again. I still couldn't resist the temptation that he presented. I set my razor down and slipped my hands around his waist, plastering my body to his. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around my shoulders while I indulged in rubbing my body against his slick and soapy one. He didn't think it was funny anymore when I encircled both our shafts with my hand and stroked us together.

"Fuck," he groaned. "That feels amazing."

"Yeah it does," I agreed, burying my face in his neck. I lightly sucked on the skin at the juncture of his shoulder as I pressed our hard cocks together and tugged on them with strong, sure strokes.

He began thrusting into my hand in moments. "Not going to last," he husked. "Feels too good."

I was fine with that. I wasn't going to last very long anyway. "Come for me, Nicky," I purred.

I continued to stare into his stunning face as I brought us both over the edge with my hand. Fuck. His sex noises were so fucking sexy. He moaned and gasped and growled akin to that of a wild beast. Balancing on the edge, his head fell back with his eyes closed and his mouth slightly parted. He roared as his body jerked and shuddered when he shot his essence into my hand. I was getting close, and the expression on his face as I pleasured him, a combination of intensely carnal and seductively ethereal, tripped me unexpectedly. My orgasm wasn't any stronger than the quick release that I normally gave myself in the shower every morning, but making him fall apart in my arms more than made up for that fact.

He watched while I brought my hand up and licked our combined ejaculate off it. His cum tasted so divine that I felt my loins begin to stir again. I rewashed my body while he leaned against the shower wall, recovering and staring at me intently. He studied me as if I was a puzzle that he just couldn't quite make sense of. Even his scrutiny caused the blood to heat in my veins.

"I should get out of here," I told him. "Otherwise, we'll spend all day in here doing that."

His laugh sounded like a wheeze as he struggled for air. "I'll die."

I wiggled my eyebrows at him. "What a way to go."

"Yeah," he nodded and grinned.

**

I was dressed, leaning against the kitchen counter, drinking my second cup of coffee, when he made his way into the kitchen. He was back in his ill-fitting clothes with his hair wet and slicked back. He'd only taken his first sip of coffee when I had an idea.

"I'd like to thank you for last night."

He arched an eyebrow at me with a smirk.

"Not that," I snickered. "For your help with that guy whose name that I can't recall."

He leered at me. "I think you thanked me sufficiently last night... and a few minutes ago."

"Yeah well, I've got something else in mind." I snatched the cup out of his hands and set it in the sink.

"Hey!" he grumbled. "I was drinking that."

"I'll buy you a latte on the way," I promised, grabbing his hand. "Come on."

I practically had to drag him out of the apartment. He groused and complained until we drove through a drive-thru and he had a new cup of coffee in his hands. Then he settled down and resigned himself to whatever I had planned for him.

Parking was at a premium in the shopping district so I was forced to park in front of the gym. "Is this your gym?" he asked.

I nodded as I got out of the car. "Yes."

He got out of the passenger side and joined me on the sidewalk. "Are we going to work out?"

I chuckled. "No. Come on."

I started walking down the block toward the salon. He caught up quickly. "I'd rather not get waxed," he joked, correctly guessing where we were headed but not the reason why. "I'm not that much of a masochist."

I just laughed and kept walking.

"Are you busy?" I asked Sarah as soon as we found her in the crowded salon.

She glanced around at the standing-room only crowd. "Not a bit," she drawled sarcastically, proving undeniably that she and Alli were perfect for each other. "Why?"

I reached behind me and pulled Nick forward by the hand. "I want you to do something with this," I joked. "His hair needs serious help."

Her face lit up as if she'd just won the Publisher's Clearing House. "I'll make time for that!" she exclaimed with glee.

"Oh no!" Nick replied with a panicked voice. "She'll dye my hair green!"

"Come on, Nick!" she pleaded. "It'll match your eyes!"

I laughed. "No dye," I told her sternly. "I love the color of his hair. Just a wash and cut. Something modern and not drastic. The seventies bowl cut has got to go."

She clapped her hands together like an excited kid. "Awesome! I've been dying to get my shears in his hair for months! Come on, brother mine. You've got a date with my chair." She grabbed him by the hand and dragged him toward the sinks. He glanced back at me with a desperate and pleading expression.

"You'll be fine," I promised. "I won't let her give you a Mohawk or anything."

All-in-all, Nick was a pretty good sport about it. Sarah did an excellent job. She gave him a variation of a typical business professional haircut, but left it a little longer on top so that locks fell artfully over his brow. It was a fantastic style for him. It brought attention to the beauty of his face, highlighted his strong jawline and high cheekbones, and made his emerald green eyes pop. Now we just needed to do something about those awful glasses and the dreadful clothes.

We got back to the car and I couldn't stop staring at him.

"Thank you," he said. "I guess I needed that."

I grinned, "Yeah. A little. But don't thank me yet. We're not done. Would you rather head to the optometrist first or the clothing stores?"

"Optometrist?" he asked.

"Probably better. They close earlier." I studied his face. "I'm thinking wired rimmed. What do you think?"

His brow furrowed and he chewed on his lip for a minute. "What are you doing, Nash?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What do you mean?"

He sighed. "I thought you liked me."

"I do like you," I responded, confused.

"No, you don't," he argued, quietly. He was perfectly calm but his voice was poignant and laced with distress. "You're trying to change me into one of the pretty boys that you like to date. I'll give you the haircut. My hair was a disaster. But the glasses? The clothes? This is me, Nash. I'm happy with who I am. If you're embarrassed to be seen with me, then don't be. Nobody is forcing you to spend time with me. But don't try to make me into something that I'm not in order to satisfy your ego."

He opened the car door to get out. "Nicky, wait..."

He turned back to me. "Don't worry about me. I'll borrow Sarah's car to get home. Thank you for last night. I enjoyed our time together. I hope you find what you're looking for."

He climbed out and closed the door. He walked back down the block and I was too stunned and confused to get out and chase him.

**

I sat on my couch, staring at the floor. Could it be true? Was I really that shallow? It wasn't even noon and I was seriously considering getting blind drunk. I had literally known the man for twelve hours and my apartment felt empty without him. I had never felt that way about anyone that I had ever dated before. I could look back on all my previous lovers and know that for a fact. I wanted them in my bed, and on my arm when we went out, but I had never wanted to just talk for hours or just be in the same room with them, doing nothing. When I did look back, I realized that Nick was right. I did have a type. It wasn't about hair color or eye color or even skin color. The thing all my exes had in common was perfection. But their beauty was all surface. Window dressing. There wasn't a single one of them that was fat or skinny. None of them had bad teeth or horrid style. Of the bunch, not one had a crooked nose or a crooked smile.

I loved that lopsided grin of his. Nick had depth and honor. He was intelligent and thoughtful. He was caring and sweet and he wasn't afraid to show it. We connected on a visceral level and that was far more valuable than anything I had ever experienced before. It was everything. And I wasn't about to sit around and let him slip through my fingers because I was too blind to see true perfection when it was staring me in the face.

**

He opened the door and my heart constricted in my chest. The intensity of the feelings that I had for him in such a short amount of time was overwhelming. I guess it's true what they say, when you meet the right person, you just know it. Sometime within the past few hours since I had seen him last, he had changed clothes. He looked fucking adorable in pajama bottoms with Mario and Princess Peach on them and a t-shirt that read, "Gamers know how to use a Joy Stick." He also wasn't smiling. He didn't look happy to see me at all.

"Don't be mad," I beseeched. "I had to threaten life and limb to get Sarah to give up your address." I handed him the long-stemmed, red rose in my hand. "Here."

He took it. "What's this?"

"It's an American Beauty."

He smirked at the flower. "I meant, what's it for?"

"It's an apology," I explained. "I'm sorry. You were right. I was trying to change you. But it's not about you at all. Look, can I come in to explain?"

He nodded and stepped back to allow me entry. I got three steps inside the door before I froze. Holy shit. He lived in a condo, and I knew that it was a nice complex when I pulled up, but wow. His downstairs had to be twice the size of my entire apartment. I was stunned.