Two Chances

He whimpered with pain as I dug deeper, but he clung to me and told me not to stop. He was writhing like a virgin under me. He had a tight hole but he was responding to me like I was the greatest lover he'd ever had. He no longer was shy and withdrawn. He was crying for me and making wild, passionate love to my cock as we fucked. This was no one-night stand. I had gotten lost in the coupling, feeling a connection I'd never felt before. Getting satisfaction from the fuck like I'd never had before.

I was spent and started to withdraw, but he held me inside him and made love to me with his hands until I was ready to ride him again. The second fuck was slower, more loving. He was quietly crying and I found myself on the verge of tears as well. I had never felt this way before when I was fucking. I had no idea why he was having this effect on me.

When we had both come again, he got shy and withdrawn again. He sat up and we kissed and I could tell he wanted me to leave.

I no longer wanted to leave. I wanted to stay all night and make repeated love to him. But I could tell that the moment, for him, had passed. He didn't even mention that cup of coffee he had offered me. There was nothing else to do. I left and just told the driver to take me back to the hotel. There would be no fuck I could pick up at the club that would affect me the way this one did. I don't know what had gotten into me. I was the prince of one-night stands. "Fuck 'em and leave 'em" had been my mantra. I always left them crying for more.

But not this time. This time I think I may have fallen in love. Back at the hotel, I showered and went directly to bed—and dreamed of Tim all the night through.

I sat by the phone in the hotel room all day Saturday. Waiting for him to call. They always called. They always wanted more of me. On Sunday I ditched my pride and called Tim. I told him I was horny and wanted to fuck him again. That obviously wasn't the right approach, because he said no, that he had a busy week, no time. He said he didn't know what had gotten into him Friday night. That he wasn't just a quick lay. He didn't want me to think he did that sort of thing really. Maybe another time . . . I recognized this was a brushoff. I'd used it a million times myself. I'd just never had gotten it used on me before.

I put the telephone down gently and just sat and stared at the closed curtains at the hotel suite window. I had gotten rejected. I had finally found something I might be able to stick with, and I wasn't wanted.

* * *

Early in the week Nick called and wanted me to catch up with him, so we met over coffee in Cremorne. Near one of the franchisees I was checking up on.

We had a half-hearted discussion about the opportunities Nick was looking at for starting Cute as Nails up in Hong Kong. I wondered why he had wanted to meet, that was more his area than mine and we could have discussed it on the phone.

"You know I miss you Tim," Nick said suddenly, and he pressed his leg against mine under the table. "You know we were always good together," he said smiling that 'I wanna sink my cock in you' smile he had, that made my knees go weak.

I did a double take, really caught by surprise and my cock definitely lurched.

"How about we head back to the house," he added' now running a hand up my thigh.

If we had been somewhere private I would have dropped my pants and lain across the table so he could sink his big cock into me, right there and then. But we weren't. We were in a small café a good hour's drive from what was now my house.

I was quivering and ready, Brads fucking may not have been long, but it had been spectacular—it had definitely turned my sex drive back on. And Nick with his Greek good looks, his easy manner and big smile had always been instant arousal for me.

"What about your flat?" I asked, my hand under the table pulling his to my engorging dick, to let him know just how he was making me feel, and knowing his flat was only 15 minutes away.

"Um, it was always special in the house," he replied, smiling, but I caught the familiar twitch of his lips that told me he was not happy with my suggestion.

And that twitch was enough to make my mind cautious. "It's an hour's drive and I am ready now," I said, in a low husky voice, "And I haven't finished the inspection here." I was still willing but wary now.

"You know the flat's out, Tim," he said dismissively, "But I really miss you."

"Oh, so is Sardi home?" I asked pulling back.

Nick shrugged. "I miss you," he said, pouting. "Look, Sardi is, well he's not got your brains or your sense of humour Tim. I miss you, I want to see if we can get things back on track again. You and me"

I was sitting there. suddenly melting and trembling, his hand on my engorging dick under the table, my mind thinking, "Yes take me" and I was about to say it, when I caught a movement outside and glanced up.

It was Sardi. And in a moment he swung through the café door carrying a couple of large designer shop bags, and stopped behind Nick. Sardi leant up against him and ran a hand possessively down his chest from behind.

"Hello, Tim," Sardi said, smiling and slitting his eyes, "I have done my shopping, Nick, much faster than I thought."

Nick didn't brush him off. Instead, his hand jumped off my dick as if it had been burnt and landed on Sardi's, squeezing it reassuringly. At least Nick had the decency to look embarrassed.

"Hello Sardi," I said politely, shaking now with anger, as well as unsatisfied lust. "I'll leave you two alone. I have to get back to the salon," I said. "Let me know how the Hong Kong business pans out." I added to Nick, smiling a fixed, forced smile at both of them.

Bastard, bastard, bastard. I thought, and I was in a rage as I left the café, and spent some time sitting in the car getting over it before I could go back into the salon and finish my inspection.

Nick, I decided, was a complete bastard, and I had no idea how I had been so fooled by him for eight years. Now I wished I had said yes to Brad on Sunday, as that might have stopped me from getting aroused so easily by Nick

* * *

I sat in that hotel room and thought about Tim for two solid days. I should be angry with him. I should think of all of the inadequacies in him that I had discovered in the short time we'd been in contact—or all of the ones I could imagine and manufacture. I had never, never gotten rejected before.

But I wanted him. And the longer I thought about it, the more I decided that it wasn't because he was an unfinished conquest that I wanted him. It was because I was attracted to him and he was so sweet and so vulnerable—and, yes, such a good fuck.

But I had never gotten in this position before. I'd never pursued; I'd always been pursued. And I'd rarely been the one who wanted a second coupling, who melted at the thought of doing over and over again with that same person. But I felt that way about Tim. I just couldn't help myself. I felt that way about Tim.

I called Andrew and found out all I could about Tim. I understood now why he had gotten so sad and withdrawn. I understood that he had been in a long-term relationship with this Nick guy and that Nick had moved on to the Sri Lankan and had just pushed Tim out of his life. And I heard that he was trying to push Tim out of their shared business too. So, it was understandable that Tim had gotten so distraught.

I couldn't fathom why Nick would do this. The Sri Lankan seemed like a feckless tart to me. And Tim seemed such a fine person—as beautiful in spirit as in body. I had little idea how to do it, but I musn't let his offhand rejection be the last of it. I knew in my heart that he was worth fighting for. All I needed was a second chance. I wanted Tim—and I wanted to help him fight to keep his business.

Andrew had told me where all of the Cute as Nails shops were. I'd have gone up and down the east coast if I had to in order to find him and beg for that second chance. So, off I went in the hotel car, having the driver stop only long enough for me to buy two dozen long-stem roses. Corny, I knew. But I was head over heels for him, had never been that way before, and had no idea what else to do.

I found him at the second shop I stopped in.

"Oh, you . . . ," Tim said in surprise as I walked up to the door, buried behind the red roses.

"Tim, I can't just . . . I . . . I've gotten . . . here, these are for you. Can we just start all over again from the beginning and give it another go?"

I had no idea what to say next, but I looked up and saw that radiant smile of his and his eyes begin to water, and I knew—or at least strongly hoped—that I wouldn't have to say anything for a while. Maybe, just maybe, I'd get that second chance.