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Authors: Nicola Haken

The Making of Matt (8 page)

BOOK: The Making of Matt
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Storing their advice in the back of my mind but not yet ready to use it, I decided I could figure this shit out on my own. I devised the perfect plan which began with me taking a long shower and resisting the urge to jerk off while I was in there. Butt naked and still a little damp, I headed to my bedroom armed with my laptop. If I
was
gay, or even bisexual, one thing would surely prove it.

Gay porn.

Steadying the laptop beside me on the mattress, I did a quick Google search, almost giving up on my mission when one of the top hits was Ryder sucking off some skinny Asian dude. He’d been out of the game a while now but his alter ego, Kyle King, was clearly still a popular choice. Determined, I blinked away the weirdness of seeing someone I considered family gagging on a dick, and carried on scrolling.

Bingo
.

I stopped on a video featuring two fairly hot guys. That meant nothing so far. I’d always considered myself straight, sure, but not blind. I could appreciate a good-looking man. Usually while watching porn I’d skip the ridiculously lame acting that set up the scene, but this was an experiment and I refused to cut corners.

Finally
, once the realtor had finished giving the prospective buyer a tour of the apartment, naturally ending in the bedroom, I reached down and splayed my fingers over my limp dick. The guy looking to buy the place asked if he could ‘test’ out the bed. Lying back on the crisp, white sheets, he bounced up and down a couple of times, moaning and sighing as he did. Clearly it was the comfiest mattress in the world.
So
comfy, the realtor just
had
to join him and find out for himself. And then whaddya know…the sheer luxuriousness of it gave them both instantaneous erections.

Cheesy acting over, they dragged out the kissing for longer than I thought necessary, but I persevered until the clothes started to come off. That was when the party really started. By the time the realtor had finished giving his client a blowjob, my cock was hard and weeping in my hand. I couldn’t be sure if that was because of the two guys, who were now fucking on the floor, or because I’d been tugging at it for the last few minutes. In hindsight I should’ve left the big guy alone to see if the guys on screen could’ve gotten him excited without my help.

Ah, fuck it.

My experiment went flying out of the window and got run over by a big ass truck. My balls were throbbing, my cock twitching in desperation beneath my fingers. My only goal now was to come as hard and fast as I could. I knew it wouldn’t take long. Heat crawled across my neck as I bucked my hips into the bed. I reached down with my free hand, gently tugging on my ball sac as my other hand fisted my dick so fast the movement became a blur. Moaning into the air, I felt the familiar tingle in my spine as pressure started to build in my belly.

“Oh fuck yeah,” I cried out to nobody, my eyes locked on the laptop screen as the realtor’s load dive-bombed into the other guy’s mouth. My own release followed immediately, my tight balls drawing up into my body as my dick sprayed hot cum all over my stomach. It was times like this I missed my mirrored ceilings. I used to love watching myself jerk off. Who wouldn’t? I looked hot as fuck. I was forced to have them replaced, however, when my mom refused to clean them any longer after she almost fell from the stepladder, pulling a muscle in her back.

After regaining my breath, I snapped the laptop closed and climbed to my feet before cleaning myself up. I had to give credit to gay porn for the fact, once the shitty acting was out of the way and they got down to business, the interaction between the two men was way more realistic, with far less amateur dramatics, than any regular straight porn I’d seen. There usually came a point I’d find myself wishing the chick would just shut the fuck up. Seriously, in all my years of experience, I’d never
once
made a woman scream louder than a strangled hyena
just
by blowing on one of her nipples.

Hmm,
I thought, deciding the results of my experiment were inconclusive. I needed advice.
Again
. So I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and texted Sawyer.

 

Me: U busy?

 

It started ringing in my palm almost immediately, Sawyer’s miserable face illuminating the screen. I swear it wouldn’t have hurt him to smile for a photo once in a while.

“’Sup, dude?” he said when I picked up.

“So I just jerked off to gay porn and-”

“Jesus, Matt. Remember what we said about over sharing?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. This is important. What do you think it means?”

“Um…that you like watching porn? I could’ve told you that before this conversation.”

“But it was
gay
porn.”

“Sex is sex. Wanna know what I really think?”

“That’s why I texted you, dumbass.”

“I think…” Sawyer drew in a long, frustrated breath. “I think you need to… Talk. To. Alex.”

“Well you’ve been absolutely no help whatsoever.”

“You know who
will
be able to help?”

“Yeah, I get it.”
For fuck’s sake.

“What did you want me to say? I’m here to listen. You know that. But I can’t give you the answers you’re looking for. Only
you
can do that.”

“Hmm,” I grumbled, understanding his point but too childish to agree with him.

“On another note, did you get your invite to the GMA’s?”

I searched my brain for memories of previous Global Music Awards ceremonies but every one was a haze. I mainly remembered the mornings after, waking up with a pounding head, unexplained bruises and naked women wrapped around my body. “You know I don’t check my mail.”

“Well I got one and so did Kip and Gavin. I haven’t talked to Daz yet. I tossed mine in the trash but Kip thinks we should go. Could be nice to catch up with the guys, I suppose.”

There wasn’t even a millimeter of available space in my mind to dedicate to it right now. “It’s months away. I’ll decide later.”

“Free alcohol and designer gift bags and you need time to think about it? Wow. Your head really
is
fucked.”

“You know, it’s really quite a low move to make fun of an orphan.”

Sawyer laughed. “Look I gotta go but, Matt?”

“Yeah?”

“Call Alex.”

Rolling my eyes and huffing, I ended the call.
Maybe he’s right,
I thought. Sex was sex. I think even a priest might’ve gotten a little stiff the way those guys on the screen went at it. The more I thought about it the more I realized watching porn, gay or otherwise, probably wasn’t the best experiment. It was already one of my favorite pastimes after all. The second my dick spotted that open laptop it knew what was expected of it and performed accordingly. I had to consider the idea that I really was attracted to him.

To Alex.

To a fucking
guy
.

Maybe I needed something completely new to me, something I could concentrate on without being distracted by my own penis. That’s when I remembered Elle telling me about the kind of books she liked to read. It was the usual romance shit chicks like to read, only with two guys. It stuck in my mind because I remember thinking how weird it was that women got off on reading about gay men playing hide the corndog.

After spending some time with my new best friend, Google, I discovered there were a shit load of different apps and devices you could use to read books. Yet again, I needed some help. I’d never seen Sawyer read anything longer than a text message in all the years I’d known him, and Jake struck me as the type to only read leather-bound hardbacks about ancient history or some other boring and serious crap. Mason was a reader, but he’d tell Ryder who in return would ask too many questions. So, scrolling through the contacts in my cell as I contemplated, my finger eventually landed on Elle.

 

Me: Hey fuck bunny. How do I get books on my cell or my iPad?

Elle: What kind of books? X

Me: Books I can read, dumbfuck

 

A pang of sadness twitched inside my heart as I hit send. My mom would’ve swatted me across the back of the head for calling a girl a dumbfuck. My insults weren’t tailored to suit individual requirements, however. I didn’t sugarcoat them for women or old people. If you’re being a cunt flap, I feel it’s my duty to society to call you out on it. Unless you’re six years old, in which case I
might
exchange cunt flap for moron.

Sorry, Mom.

 

Elle: I have a Kindle. Search Kindle on your app store. You’ll need an amazon account. X

Me: Great. Thanks.

Elle: I think you’ll like it. They have a huge selection of children’s titles on there ;-) x

Me: Screw you. Maybe I want to read something classic and intellectual. Like Charles Dickenson.

Elle: Dickens?

 

Fuck.
Surely I deserved some credit for even knowing who the guy was. Kind of. I was only two letters out.

 

Me: Damn autocorrect

Elle: Sure! How r u? x

 

I’d discovered since my mom died that a simple ‘How are you?’ was actually code for ‘How are you coping?’

 

Me: 6’2. Brunette. Ripped. Gigantic cock. Admit it, you’re touching yourself right now.

Elle: Totally. I’m rubbing my arse. I have a pain in it that just won’t quit.

Me: If u need any help with that, u know where I am

Elle: Babe, I wouldn’t let u if I had both my arms amputated and u were the last person on earth. Gotta go. C u opening night. Love ya! X

 

Ugh.
I huffed as I tucked my cell into my pocket. I huffed a lot lately. The grand re-opening of Kaleidoscope was approaching and its manager hadn’t bothered to show up once.

Fuck you, Alex Clark.

Grabbing my iPad from the coffee table in the living room, I took it outside and sat at the pool-bar under the shade of the canopy. I rarely bought stuff online, always got other people to do it for me, so of course I’d forgotten my Amazon password. I reset it, then downloaded the app I needed.

It took me a while, and a couple more texts to Elle, to figure out I couldn’t buy books directly from the app, and then once I was eventually faced with the search bar on the website, I realized I didn’t actually know what I was looking for. That was something I didn’t want to share with Elle, so I took a chance and typed ‘gay’ into the Kindle section of the online store.

Fuck me sideways.
There were hundreds, possibly even thousands, of books. My finger tapped away like a machine gun, clicking the ‘buy’ button one after the other for about three pages. Through the magic of Wi-Fi, the books appeared on my app within seconds. Closing my eyes, I ran the pad of my finger up and down the screen and tapped randomly, opening a book titled
He’s Mine
.

Before I got started I plucked a bottle of cold beer from the cooler behind the pool-bar, popped the cap and took a generous swig. I hadn’t read a book since high-school, and even then I didn’t actually read it. I’d get friends to tell me what it was about instead.

The first book I opened completely screwed with my head. I wasted half an hour of my life becoming actually invested in the story when out of nowhere the guy turned into a fucking wolf.
Who the hell reads this shit?
I discarded this particular book as a fail. I needed to know if I was attracted to guys not wild fucking animals.

I took a chance on another one and as my gaze honed in on the first chapter heading, I hoped I didn’t get bored too quickly. After the last book, I was already growing frustrated. The first couple of chapters went pretty smoothly and it surprised me that I was genuinely curious whether Ted Marshall would get his guy. Apart from the whole thing being littered with pretentious words and long-winded descriptions, it was going okay until I reached the first sex scene.

As Ted slithered out of Daryl’s heavenly warmth, decorating his lover’s stomach with his silky seed, he knew there would never be another man for him…

Seriously. Heavenly warmth? Silky fucking seed? Who the hell actually talks like that? I’d have related to Ted a whole lot more if he’d said, “I yanked my dick out of Daryl’s tight ass and shot my load all over his face.” Therefore, once again, I disregarded this experiment. No, it didn’t turn me on, but I struggled to believe such drivel would get
anyone
excited.

“What are you reading?”

I almost choked to death on my own saliva, my body consumed by a rush of fear not dissimilar to the feeling you get when you dream that you’re falling.

“Sawyer, what the fuck?” I blasted after swallowing my heart back down into its rightful place. “Hey!” I protested, trying but failing to grab the iPad before Sawyer’s reaching hand got there first. “Come on, dude. Give it back.”

Sawyer retreated, holding the screen in front of his face while walking slowly backwards. “
His slick channel ached, begging for more of Ted’s length…
Man, what the hell is this shit?”

BOOK: The Making of Matt
3.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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