Matt, actually, has the perfect set of genes for me. Italian. Thick, black hair. And the perfect bulge in the front of his jeans. I don't think about him that way, never have. He's been a friend for too long, not to mention now being Shane's boyfriend. You would have thought that I'd have been attracted to him from the moment I met him? But I didn't. I never have, actually. He's always been a friend's friend, or someone's boyfriend.
But, just lately, yesterday and the last time I was on drugs, something had happened in my brain. Yes, the last two times. Suddenly, out of the blue, for no apparent reason, I've tuned into the bulge in Matt's pants. Yes, like all good Italian boys, he packs a great pants bulge. Like an inverted triangle; the very tip is attached at his arse and the rest just flows out into the full bloom of something beautiful. Bumping out, creasing in the middle at the bend in his bulge; lying sideways, coiled perfectly to the left.
Packed, checked daily by their mothers until they are sixteen, kissed until they are ten. With all that love and all that nurturing, how can they not turn out to be the prettiest peckers ever.
We were in jangly, jitter, post party morning; we were operating in staccato, strobe was the mood - big eyes, broken movements, short sentences. I was sitting on the floor with my elbows on the coffee table. Shane and Matt were on the couch opposite, playing with the iMac. Matt was sitting level with my eye height. Shane and Matt were chatting together, lost in each other's company and lost in new technology. I was drifting, listening to music; quiet, subdued, really patchy. I think I had the twitches. I was facing Matt directly. I was just naturally looking at his lap, they were the levels we just happened to be at.
Naturally, Shane has told me about Matt's dick. Big, thick, uncut. A monster, from all accounts. "Well, a beautiful monster," said Shane.
Nice and full, like a fist, pushed out, packed, pulsing. Or was I pulsing? I was looking before I even knew that I was. Something beautiful, you couldn't help but look. I was drinking it in. There was something solid and tubular, thick, seemingly straining, a little, at the wrap of the denim. He's got nice, thick thighs to frame it.
Matt fills his jeans, mighty fine. I gazed at him, bulging out, freely.
Mark and Luke came back, I barely remember them. Oh, messy, I admit. Really out of it. I think my third was kicking in. I sat up and tried to talk, but it was difficult. I just felt like lying still and letting the moment wash over me. Luke and Matt were rolling joints, they seemed to be coming from all directions.
I glance at Matt. He was looking at the iMac screen, smoking. His eyes darted away from my glance, as I looked up. he glanced back, smiling. He looked away. Oh, yes. I see, I thought. You've noticed me looking.
Shane was in explanation mode, in Matt's ear.
Matt was smiling, coyly. Blushing. He spread his legs to push forward - I gazed down at his package, it moves up and then slides towards me, his cock is pointing upwards, to Matt's face. I can see the out line of the big vein that runs underneath, pushing up into the denim of his jeans. - to give the joint to Luke. But Luke doesn't respond.
"So who... " said Matt.
I look up to see him looking over at me. As our eyes meet, Matt laughs, kind of self-conscious. Tries to subdue the smile. I take the smoke, he goes back to Shane. Matt glances back and then looks away.
I decide to keep my gaze on his face, to see what he is looking at. He keeps sneaking looks at me. Smiling. Turned on, just the smallest bit, I could sense it. He was twitchy. And distracted.
He looked at me. He looked again. He glanced for a third time, to see me catch him looking again. He smiled. He looked back at the iMac.
He looked. He looked again. He waited a moment, then he looked again. The cheeky smile staid on his face.
"Matt?" I said. He looked instantly. I hold the joint out to him. He stopped smiling and took the joint.
"Thanks."
I sit back down on the floor and rest my head in my hands, with my elbows on the coffee table. I exhaled deeply. Matt glanced down at me. I smiled and raised my eyebrows. He looked back at the iMac screen.
I'm exhausted. I wonder what time it is? I want to go to bed, but I can't summon the energy to head up stairs. Besides, I'm in the middle of obsessing about Matt. I usually obsess about some one when I'm on pills, usually someone out, who I flirt with gently. It's never normally, well, hardly ever, about friends, certainly never about a friend who has a boyfriend, who is also a friend. No, that never normally happens. But, there I am, obsessing about Matt. Not sure why? There you go.
The TV is on. At some stage there was a Will & Grace DVD playing.
I close my eyes, it is peaceful, quiet. I wonder what I am doing? I should just go to bed.
I open my eyes up to Matt's legs. Up a fraction more. His legs are open to me, little matt is pushing up against the denim. Quite a mound. A hand suddenly goes over Matt's bulge. Now, it looks like he is feeling himself up. It's hot. He seems to have the same thought at the same moment, and the hand disappears again.
Nobody can see me, except Matt, my hands are around my face. I followed the stitching through the middle of the pants, from underneath. Slid my eyes over the contours of his balls. Slid my tongue up his shaft. Sniffed his pubic hair. And what a nice Italian boy, is he, I thought.
I slid my eyes up to Matt's face. His eyes darted back to the iMac. He was wide-eyed. His face was intense. He was smiling broadly. He was blushing... flushing red.
He glanced back. Smiled, as he looked away.
Glanced back. Smiled, as he looked away.
Glanced.
The smile didn't come off his face.
He looked at me and made big eyes, quickly. He held my gaze, looked away beaming, despite himself.
I've never seen him look so handsome.
Mark and Luke left. It must be time for me to go to bed, I thought. Time to stop.
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