[Excerpt from my novel in progress, Guys Like Us]
I used to whittle a lot when I was a kid. Â I wasnâ€™t very artistic about it, so the result was usually a piece of wood with a sharp point and a pile of shavings. Â I carried a pocket knife with me when I was a kid and all through high school. Â It wasnâ€™t much for self-defense but I wasnâ€™t someone who would think to use it anyway. Â But I liked having it, it was a connection to my boyhood and it made me feel handy. Â Always ready to cut open a box or trim the frayed ends of my cut offs.
I lost that knife as a result of carelessness, which to this day causes me pain when I remember it. Â I would love to have that little knife now. Â Iâ€™d put it in a box I have for my oldest keepsakes. Â My dadâ€™s watch is in there, the broken one I rescued from the garbage. Â A few notes from Desiree that survived the years. Â Some other things that I donâ€™t remember the exact origins of anymore.
I have a new knife now, well, several actually. Â After losing my first pocket knife, I didnâ€™t replace it right away. Â For a while, when I was working at the bookstore, I carried a box knife in my pocket, useful for opening boxes of books and for starting conversations.
A girl Iâ€™d been flirting with at the store tracked me down at the bar. Â She walked right up to me and pressed me back against the wall I was leaning on.
â€œUmmpfhâ€ I said, gifted speaker that I was..
â€œI was hoping I would find you here, handsome.â€ Â Sheâ€™d wrapped her arms around my neck and our belly buttons were in position to start waltzing.
â€œHello, my arenâ€™t you friendly?â€ Â I leaned a little to the left to put my beer down and placed my hands on her waist. She was a pretty bookish femme and weâ€™d bonded over the sci fi section. Â â€œOn your planet, do you always strike up conversations in bars like this?â€
She grinned and peered at me over her glasses. Â â€œOnly when weâ€™ve decided to abduct someone and take them back to our base.â€
â€œYour base, eh? Â Didn’t you say something about roommates earlier?â€ Â The song selection on the dance floor in the back of the bar had started improving, after an initial period of undanceable crap. Â â€œWould you care to dance?â€
“Alright, your base then” She grinned and winked.
She pulled me onto the dance floor and though I was going willingly, it was nice to be dragged out there by a hot femme. Â She pulled me into a hot grind and I began to lose my resolve to slow things down. Â Her leg between my leg and mine between hers, I could feel myself getting more and more aroused. Â Judging by her facial expression and the way she was chewing on my ear, I guessed she was feeling the same. Â She slipped out of my arms and gripped my hips from behind, grinding herself into my ass. Â The lights were swirling, the music pounding and we were surrounded by other couples getting hot and heavy together. Â It was Pride week and the bar was a lot more crowded than usual. Â Her hands slipped into my front pockets and I stifled a groan. I loved being touched like that. Â I pushed my ass against her and she reciprocated. Â Her fingers pressed and prodded from within my pockets. Â Then she made an exclamation and pulled her right hand out.
Her voice purred into my ear from behind, â€œIs that a box knife in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?â€
Taking a breather in a dark corner, I leaned in her direction to say something and she lifted her lips to mine. Â I hadnâ€™t made out with someone at a bar in a while but after a few seconds of her mouth exploring mine, I thought maybe I should try it more often. Â I was too aware of being in public to do everything I was inspired to do but she didnâ€™t seem to have any such shyness.
She had one hand gripping the back of my neck while the other slid down my front, tweaking my nipples and sliding between my legs. Â She worked my packy and sucked on my tongue and I nearly lost it right there in a dark corner of the dance floor.
Pulling away to catch a breath, I asked her if sheâ€™d like to go somewhere more private, â€œI know we just met and this is ridiculously cliche but Iâ€™m really hot for you. Â I swear Iâ€™m not a murderer.â€
She rubbed my pocket, â€œEven with your box knife?â€ Â She leaned back as if appraising her risk and then leaned in for another kiss. Â â€œActually, blades turn me on. Â Letâ€™s go.â€
She pulled me by the hand back across the dance floor to coat check,â€So where do you live?â€
We almost fell through my front door because itâ€™s hard to walk when someoneâ€™s got one leg wrapped around your hips and your hands are down their pants. Â We didnâ€™t make it to my bed, she pushed me down on my worn couch and I landed so hard the springs threatened to come through the well-worn cushions. Â .
For a while, she straddled me and ground herself into my crotch. Â The base of my packy pressed against my clit, and I could feel myself getting wet, so wet it ran down my ass. Â I flipped her off my lap onto the couch and unbuttoned her jeans. They were tight and in the process of pulling them down, her panties came with them. Â Too bad, really, I like to play around the elastic. Now that I was topping her, I wanted to go slow. Â I started by stroking her shaved pussy with the back of my fingers, she growled with impatience.
â€œCome on, Iâ€™m so hot for you, I need it!â€ She grabbed my arm, squeezing it to emphasize her point. Â â€œCome on, sexy, fuck me. Â Show what you got.â€
I leaned over her, lifting her shirt and lowering my mouth to her nipple. Â I slid into her with two fingers while flicking her nipple with my tongue.
She moaned and started bucking her hips, pressing me deeper inside her. Â She opened right up and I gave her another finger. Â I was still mouthing her breasts, using my teeth to hold and pull on her nipples before sucking in a mouthful of her soft flesh. Â Â She was soft inside, soft and pulsing against my fingers. Â I followed her lead, thrusting harder and harder until she clamped my hand between her thighs and clenched my fingers so hard I almost cried out in pain. Â After the first orgasm, she relaxed enough to allow my fingers to move. Â I stroked her G-spot experimentally, to see if she wanted to continue. Her response was a long moaning, â€œYesssssss.â€
This time I went slower, my thumb circling her clit, gripping her pussy and stroking her inside and out. Â Her orgasm built up more slowly but by the time she peaked, she was scratching my arms and the couch cushions, coming with a series of long wailing cries.
This time I pulled out gently and rested on one elbow, the other hand gently petting her belly and thighs.
â€œOhmygod, that was good, so good, thank you.â€
I smiled and nodded, â€œYouâ€™re welcome.â€
She pulled me down for a kiss. Â â€œSo, handsome, do you like to be…?â€
â€œFucked? Â Yes, yes I do.â€ Â My hands were roaming all over her body, her curves were quite lovely. Â â€œYou know, I have a bed, itâ€™s much more comfortable — no springs in your ass. Â Also, more room.â€
â€œAre you trying to get me into your bed, butch?â€ She was much softer now that her initial hunger was sated.
â€œWhy, yes, yes I am.â€ Â I got up and reached out for her hand. Â â€œCare to join me in my bed, lovely lady?â€
She danced ahead of me, shaking her ass for me as I attempted to pinch her cheeks. Â She made herself at home in my bed as I pulled my clothing off. Â Sliding between the sheets and against her skin felt good, I realized it had been several months since I had anyone in my bed. Â Not since the break up. Â I reached for her but she intercepted my hand, pressing it down.
â€œMy turn, stud.â€
The feeling of her body on mine took me out of my head, mercifully shutting off the thoughts of my ex girlfriend. Â She pushed my hands above my head and told me to hang on to the iron headboard. Â â€œYou keep your hands there and Iâ€™ll take care of making you feel good, baby.â€
She pressed herself between my legs, and I moaned, â€œOh yeah, you feel good.â€
â€œMmmm, I like how furry you are, butch.. you feel good against my naked pussy.â€ She began rubbing and pressing against me, my little cock was so sensitive and hard, I started shuddering right away. Â â€œOh, no, not yet. Â Letâ€™s slow it down, baby.â€
I groaned but didnâ€™t make a move.
She reached between my legs and found my little cock. Â I lifted off the bed at the sudden direct sensation.
â€œOhholyfuck, ohmygod…â€ breathing hard, I blurted out â€œsensitive!â€
â€œMmmhmm… are you trans? Â A guy I was with a while back, he was on T and had a thick clit like yoursâ€ Â She stroked and pulled, gently now, but insistently.
â€œSssssss.s…. huh huh.. yes.. a few months… ohgod, thatâ€™s good, please donâ€™t stop.â€ My eyes had rolled back in my head and I was seeing brightly colored star bursts.
â€œOh, Iâ€™m not gonna stop, baby boy, hang on to the bed.â€ Â Iâ€™d let go with one hand, clutching the side of my mattress. Â â€œIâ€™m gonna make you come so hard.â€
And she did, more than once. Â I was lying limp, hands released and twining into her hair as she rested on my chest. Â Weâ€™d pulled the covers over our cooling bodies. Â I was really sleep and was starting to drift. Â I realized I only knew her first name.
â€œI need to get goingâ€ she interrupted, kissing me before sitting up. Â â€œIâ€™ve got work tomorrow and a dog whoâ€™s going to start shredding and pissing on everything if I donâ€™t get home soon.â€
â€œOk, yeah, wouldnâ€™t want that. Â But before you go, I have a question…â€
â€œWhat? You want my phone number? Want to know when youâ€™ll see me next?â€
â€œThose are all great questions yes, and I should have thought of them but something else first.â€
I sat up as well, â€œSo what was it you said about liking blades?â€ Â Iâ€™d been wanting to ask since we left the bar.
She narrowed her eyes, as if assessing me, â€œKnife play, cutting, sharp sexy blades turn me on in the right hands.â€
Her fingertip was tracing my jaw, I wondered if she could feel the baby stubble there, it had been a few days since I shaved my peach fuzz last.
â€œYour box knife probably isnâ€™t sterile or sharp enough for any of that. Â Do you have other knives?â€
I thought about my lost pocketknife wistfully. Â It probably wouldnâ€™t be sterile or sharp enough either, but all of a sudden I missed it.
â€œNo, I donâ€™t. Â I had one once, but itâ€™s gone.â€
She kissed me again, â€œWeâ€™ll see each other around, stud. Â Next time, maybe Iâ€™ll give you my phone number.â€
â€œAnd your last name?â€
Her laughter was relaxed but loaded, â€œOh, Iâ€™ll tell you that now. Â LaConner, Janey LaConner.â€
My jaw dropped and I thought my heart would thump out of my chest. Â I must have looked like an idiot.
She had pulled on her top while I sat there naked and stunned. Â I followed her into the living room as she searched for her panties and jeans.
â€œâ€˜LaConnerâ€™?â€ Â It wasnâ€™t a common name, Iâ€™d only met one family with that name. Â â€œDo you know…â€
â€œI know that youâ€™re Buddy Grayson, who used to be Barbara and I know you used to date my cousin Desiree.â€
My head was suddenly filled with a swarm of questions buzzing like wasps. Â My mouth was dry, I couldnâ€™t swallow. Â I couldnâ€™t come up with what to say, there was too much to say.
â€œIâ€™m sure you have a lot of questions. Â Iâ€™ll see you around Buddy and maybe Iâ€™ll answer some of them.â€
She blew me a kiss and let herself out. Â The blast of cold night air hit me but I was already shivering. Â I should have followed her, I could have followed her, but to what end? Â If she didnâ€™t want to talk to me about Desiree, she wouldnâ€™t. Â And then there was the question of how she knew me, had she looked for me? Â Had we met? Â I had a dim memory of a younger girl at Desireeâ€™s house one of the times Iâ€™d been visiting. Â She had dark hair, not honey gold like Desireeâ€™s.
I looked out the window, her car was gone. Â I locked the door and turned off the lights and went back to bed. Â Sleep was a long time coming.
The next day, I stopped at the leather store near work during my lunch break. Â I said hello to Frank, one of the owners and told him I was interested in getting a knife. Â His craggy face broke into a huge grin.
â€œExcellent!â€ He rubbed his hands together. Â â€œStep over here my friend, let me set you up with something.â€
For the next 20 minutes, he showed me around his knife case, which had a variety of sizes, shapes and styles that was a bit overwhelming. Â It reminded me of the first time I walked into a sex toy store and tried to pick out a dildo.
Frank looked up from the boot knife he was showing me and took stock of my facial expression, which I suppose was somewhere between confused and lustful.
â€œOk, Buddy, what do you want a knife for? Â Utility, show, self-defense?â€
â€œUh, well, there was a girl, last night, she was talking about knife playâ€ Â Frankâ€™s grin grew so wide I thought his face would split. Â â€œBut also, I used to have a pocketknife when I was a kid. Â I miss having one.â€
â€œAhhh… well, knife play, you should take some classes or hang out with some tops who do that before you choose a knife. Â But I can set you up with a nice utility knife for your day-to-day needsâ€ Â He reached into the cabinet and pulled out a slim knife, about 3 inches long.
â€œThis is a Kershaw Leek, nice little pocket knife, has a clip so you can keep it secureâ€ Â He showed me the safety, slipped it open and thumbed the knife open with a â€˜snickâ€™.
â€œMay I?â€ I said, holding out my hand. Â I held it, stroked it with my thumb. It was smooth and bright, sexy even. Â I practiced putting the safety on and off, flipping the blade up and securing it again. Â I was in love, apparently it was obvious.
â€œOh, clearly you need to take her home, Buddy. Â It wouldnâ€™t be right to put her back in the case, would it?â€
I smiled in agreement, â€œYeah, Frank, I think Iâ€™m gonna have to take her home alright.â€
I had no idea when or if Iâ€™d see Janey again. Â And if I did, there was no way of knowing if sheâ€™d answer my questions. And what would answering my questions do for me? Â That was a question I had yet to answer for myself. Â I pushed those thoughts away. Â This purchase might have been prompted by my encounter last night, but now that I had this knife in my pocket, it didnâ€™t matter. Â It felt like something I should have done a long time ago.
I got back to work, went into the back room where a stack of boxes waited to be opened. Â I slid the safety down and opened the knife. Â â€˜Snickâ€™ she said, â€˜Snick, ready for duty.â€™
â€œHmm.. yes, I will call you â€˜Snickâ€™. Â Letâ€™s get to workâ€ Â Luckily, none of my coworkers was around to hear me talking to my knife.
As I began stacking new books in preparation for stocking the shelves, I made a mental note to ask my friend, Freight, about knife play.
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