Authenticity 101

I was sitting on our bed in shorts and an Alouettes t-shirt and had just opened ICQ on the laptop, when the cordless rang. The caller ID read “LETHBRIDGE”. I smiled and hit the speakerphone.


“Hi Daddy!” Becky shouted, “Mommy and I love you!”

“And I love you too, honey. Are you having fun with Grandma and Grandpa?”

“Grampa took me fishing today and we caught a biiig fish!”

“Good for you! Is Mommy there?” Grace had an anesthesiology conference in Calgary. She had taken Becky, our 6-year-old, with her, dropped her off at her parents in Lethbridge, and, now that the conference was over, was spending a few days there before returning to Montreal on Tuesday. I had finished a huge project earlier that day and since I work from home, I was enjoying the privacy.

“Hard at work?” It was Grace.

I picked up the phone. “Hard for you.”

“Just be that way on Tuesday.”

“Conference put you to sleep?”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Your Dad’s gonna barbeque?”

“He’s out with the coals now. Getting any writing done?”

I write erotica on the side. “Oh, the Prime Minister and the President are giving new meaning to ‘Canadian-American unity’.”

“Hah, send that to the jackasses in Ottawa. Good luck. My Dad’s bellowing for us. Gotta go. Say ‘Hi’ to Louis for me. I love you. ‘Bye.”

“I love you, too. ‘Bye.”

Louis was the delivery boy for Katarina’s, our favorite pizza joint. Grace knew very well that I would be ordering a large pie with sausage and peppers for dinner.

I checked ICQ. Odd, KanadianKink was not online. He, I think, usually was at that hour. He had commented on-and-off about some of my stories over the past year but had taken a more sustained interest in an M/M story that I had written, very unusual for me, set in 1890s’ southern Alberta. We had had an odd exchange the day before.

“What? Ever since Brokeback, gay cowboys are suddenly the rage?”

“Beats me,” I typed, “I wrote what I wanted to. Did you like it?”

“Not bad but…”


“Lacked authenticity.”


“Nobody’s ever given it to you in the ass, or mouth, have they?”

That was getting personal. “No.”

“Took you took longer to reply; :-)”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Yes. Why do you ask? Tickticktick…”

“I want to be a better writer.”

“You sure that’s all?”


“Story reads like a fantasy: ‘He yearned to be possessed, dominated’ or ‘Feel that, dogie?’ he whispered, coming inside me, “I’m brandin’ you’. One of yours maybe?”


“Think it’ll ever come true?”



“I’m married.”

“Who says she has to know? Are you hard?”

“Let’s change the subject.”

“:-)” He logged off.

I called Katarina’s, ordered my pizza, put the laptop on the nightstand and switched on the Habs and the Leafs just in time to catch the opening face-off. Twenty-five minutes later the cordless rang. The caller
ID read “LOUIS.”

“Whassup Louis?”

“Fuckin’ traffic, man. I ain’t gonna be at your place in no 30 minutes.”

“Don’t sweat it. Buzz when you get here. I’m upstairs.”

“That’s my man.” He hung up.

Louis was a pal. Grace and I were regular customers.

Ten minutes later the door buzzed.

I grabbed the cordless and dialed the code. “C’mon up Louis.”

Two minutes later, a tall muscular kid, in his early 20’s maybe, in a t-shirt and cut-offs, walked into the bedroom carrying a Katarina’s box, which he put down on the dresser.

I tensed. “Who are you? Where’s Louis?”

“You didn’t answer my question. Were you hard?” He kicked off a pair of flip-flops and pulled off his t-shirt and cut-offs. His erect cock popped free.

I gaped, in abject shock.

He grabbed my ankles and flipped me over. “Still want to be dominated? Say ‘Leave right now’ and I’m gone.”


He yanked off my shorts, grabbed my hips and pulled me up to my knees. I felt some kind of lube squirt onto the small of my back. He tossed a tube of Astroglide onto the bed in front of me. He dipped a finger in the Astroglide and slowly smeared it in and around my asshole, gradually working in one, and then a second, finger. I could have fought him, I could have kicked him but I felt hypnotized, too enthralled to move.

He withdrew his fingers and grabbed my hips.

I tensed.

I felt the well-lubricated tip of his cock slowly press against me until I relaxed and he slid the head inside me. He pulled out and thrust into me, gently at first but then more strongly, penetrating me further. I hardened with every thrust, until my erect cock stuck out beneath me. He moaned, and I’m sure smiled, at my predicament, as he fucked my ass. Suddenly his grip tightened. He held me fast, grunting as he exploded, coming hard. I turned to jelly, wilting with each thrust and spurt, frantically pumping my cock into the air, desperate to come. Finally, he relaxed his grip on my hips. I hoped he was going to reach around and jerk me out of my agony but he shoved me forward into the bed and lay on top of me, his dick still inside me. He humped my ass, driving my cock into the soft, plush duvet. “No,” I moaned, as he pumped me into the duvet, which was expensive and would cost a fortune to dryclean, but I forgot about the duvet, the drycleaning and just about everything else in the universe, as I came furiously, shooting a delicious wet heat all over my belly. It was only after he was still that I realized I was still pumping myself into the duvet.

He chuckled, kissed my neck, pulled out and climbed off the bed.

“Mind if I use your shower?”

“No,” I heard myself say, “Go ahead.”

“Got a towel?”

“In the closet in the bathroom.”


“You’re welcome.” I heard the water come on in the en suite. I lay for a while in the sticky mess that I had made, in too deep a rush to care. When that faded a little I rolled off the bed, rolled the duvet up and tossed it in a corner. I took my shorts and went to the spare bathroom to clean my sore ass; thank God Grace had insisted on having a bidet installed.

He came out of the en suite, with a towel around his waist, just as I got back to the main bedroom. He helped himself to a slice of pizza and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I told Louis that I was an old buddy of yours and I wanted to surprise you. I flipped him C$50; don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks.” Surprise me? Was he kidding?

“Second period,” he said with a mouthful of pizza, gesturing towards the TV. The Habs and the Leafs were about to drop the puck. He patted the bed, motioning for me to sit.

I took a slice and sat down on the bed next to him, unsure of what to expect.

He took another slice of pizza and apart from an occasional curse as we watched the Habs embarrass themselves, didn’t say a word until the second intermission. “God, what a disgrace.” He stood up.

I did as well but he grabbed my shoulder and pressed me down to a kneeling position on the floor. He yanked his towel off and shoved his erect cock into my mouth, ramming the head against the back of my mouth. He withdrew until the tip barely touched my lips. To avoid gagging, I closed my lips as he slid back in. He stopped just as my lips closed around the head. I paused for a second, allowing the sheer fact that I had another man’s cock in my mouth to sink in. I ran my tongue over the glans, savoring the feel and taste of his nob, before going down the shaft. He took me quickly, sliding in and out as I tried to keep up with him, going as far down on him as I could without gagging before he withdrew. I felt his cock suddenly tense as he slid into me for the ninth or tenth time. He groaned and erupted, shooting the first jolt of come down my throat. I stayed with him, trying to suck his heaving dick, wilting again as he emptied himself in my mouth. I didn’t gag on the taste and tried to swallow as much as I could.

When he was done, he withdrew, wiped himself on his towel and dressed.

I wiped my mouth on my towel. “How did you find me?”

He pointed to my laptop. “I’m no hacker but it wasn’t that hard. Your writing is not exactly a secret. I was watching your house when Louis showed up.” He took another slice of pizza.

That was kind of creepy. “You won’t say anything to Grace?”

“No. Like I said, she doesn’t have to know. I won’t tell her; this is your fantasy.”

“Thank you.”

“Just write a better M/M story.”

“You mean more authentic?” I surprised myself; I actually grinned.

“Hopefully, that shouldn’t be a problem now.” He smiled and left.

Too exhausted to write, I locked the house and went to bed. The next morning, I took the duvet to a drycleaner across town, not our usual.

* * * * *

I tucked Becky in, waited till she fell asleep and went into our bedroom to undress. Grace was already in bed, reading my latest story on the laptop.

“Oh cool! You made the Prime Minister and the President both guys.”

I joined her under the duvet. “Like it?”

“It’s better than your gay cowboy story.”


“I dunno. The sex, it’s more realistic, more…”


“Yeah, authentic. It’s hot, and it’s making me hot.”

“Mmm, then I’ve done my job.” I slid a hand between Grace’s thighs as she closed the laptop.

* * * * *

Later, around 03:00, I disentangled from Grace and went to the facilities. On the way back, I opened the laptop and checked my story for feedback. Six people had posted comments, all of them favourable. The most recent of these was from KanadianKink, a simple 🙂 I smiled, closed the laptop and climbed back into bed.

© 2009 Oxartes. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

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