Free Sleepless in San Francisco by Ryan Field

stop, but he couldn’t control himself. And it often happened
     
more than once in the same day, without a set pattern. There were days when Jonathan
     
would arrive before the contractors and the crew. He’d say good morning to Ed, then fall
     
to his knees, pull down Ed’s zipper, and blow him on the back steps and finish him off
     
with his hand. Later that same day, everyone would break for lunch and Jonathan would
     
give him a look, then run his tongue across his bottom lip and Ed would be on top of him.
     
He’d push him up against a door frame, pull down his pants, and nail him to the wall.
     
They’d both climax fast, and Ed would put his dick away and Jonathan would pull up his
     
pants and make believe nothing had happened. At the end of every single work day, when
     
everyone went home, Ed would walk up behind Jonathan, pull down his pants again, and
     
bang him over the kitchen counter for five minutes. Jonathan never said no. It reached a
     
point where Ed always carried at least four or five lubricated condoms in his pocket just
     
to be sure he was prepared. On Thanksgiving, Ed got out of bed slowly. It was after eleven, and he’d been
     
lying there staring at the ceiling since five. His leg muscles were sore because he’d
     
fucked Jonathan in a weird position the night before. Jonathan had come back to the
     
house to see the finished landscaping after dinner. It was well past nine, already dark
     
outside. When he’d leaned over to get a closer look at the urns next to the front door, Ed
     
put his hand down the back of his pants and shoved him into a small alcove at the front
     
entrance. He pulled off all Jonathan’s clothes and threw them over his shoulder down the
     
front walk. When Jonathan was naked, he pulled down Ed’s zipper and opened his pants.
     
Then he put his arms around Ed’s shoulders and jumped up and wrapped his legs around
     
Ed’s waist. Ed’s short pants fell to the ground and he kicked them off his feet, then he
     
pushed Jonathan against the front door and fucked him there. Jonathan locked his ankles
     
together at the small of Ed’s back and hung from his shoulders; they kissed and sucked
     
tongues until they both climaxed. Then Jonathan kissed him goodbye, gathered his
     
clothes, and drove back to the hotel naked.
     
Ed had experienced a wild climax that night—it made his knees tremble and his
     
tongue fall from the side of his mouth. But it hadn’t been easy. He’d had to bend his
     
knees and rest his weight on his legs to keep his footing. Now the muscles in his shins
     
were killing him. He’d never fucked anyone in that position, and he hadn’t used those leg
     
muscles in years.
     
He was tired that morning, too. There were dark circles under his eyes and he
     
noticed a few lines at the corners. He’d only slept about two hours the previous night. He
     
couldn’t stop thinking about spending Thanksgiving with a gay couple who were
     
practically strangers. This was one of those times he wished he hadn’t rented his house in the Hamptons out for a whole year. They all could have flown back east for the weekend,
     
and Ed could have visited Jake’s grave.
     
After coffee, he filled the old tub with hot water and soaked for a long time. He
     
usually took showers, but he figured the hot water would help his leg muscles. An hour
     
later, he shaved and dressed. He pulled a white polo shirt and a pair of olive slacks from
     
his closet. When he passed the table next to his bedroom door, he stared down at a small
     
drawer containing a new box of condoms. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, then
     
reached into the drawer and pulled a couple out of the box. He shoved them into his back
     
pocket. He didn’t think he’d need them, but with Jonathan around he couldn’t be sure.
     
By the time he reached the guest house, it was almost three in the afternoon. They
     
were supposed to go next door to the