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Story: Stress Relief Author: Isonyc
STRESS RELIEF
(MC, MM)
By Isonyc (iso_nyc@yahoo.com)
Synopsis: David finds someone at a party who's more than willing to help him
cope with the stresses of law school.
Disclaimer: This is a work of gay erotic fiction. That means: don't read it if
you don't want to read about explicit sexual encounters between men, and don't
treat it like it's non-fiction. The people and events in the story are works of
fiction. Enjoy. Comments can be sent to iso_nyc@yahoo.com.
Chapter 1 - The Study Break
"You need to relax."
David could hear Brian's voice through the telephone, but he was having trouble
making the words make sense. 'Relax,' he was vaguely familiar with the concept,
but the first semester of law school had made such a concept seem like a far-off
fantasy. Relaxing was something other people did; people who had no need to
memorize obscure Contract Law cases or spend hours Blue Booking for instructors
who fed the competitive impulses that turned the otherwise friendly population
of first-year law students into fiendish piranha.
"Brian, I would love to come to your party, but I have to ace my Con Law final.
I've had two interviews with Todd's father's firm, but I know they're 'iffy'
about my GPA. Any slip-up might be enough for them to go with somebody else this
summer. And I'm not about to let that happen."
Brian might not have had David's grades, but he had the instincts of a born
lawyer, and he knew that his friend needed a breather, anyhow. "Look, David.
It's Friday night and the final isn't 'till Tuesday. It's just gonna be a few
guys, a few drinks, some music, and then you can hibernate in the library all
weekend." He laughed. "Look -- you can consider it an investment: one night of
chilling out can save you months worth of therapy later, after the nervous
breakdown? Okay?"
"Fine, fine. Give me an hour and I'll be there, okay?" Brian, once he'd gotten
the concession, didn't bother to gloat. "Sure thing, catch you later - and
David, clean yourself up. There'll be bachelors here, tonight." David, still
laughing at his friend, hung up the phone and hopped into the shower.
A few minutes later, getting out, he studied himself in the mirror. Though law
school hadn't done much for his physique - he spent far more time in the library
than he used to spend in the gym - he was still pretty toned. At twenty-four, he
wasn't quite the Club Kid he'd been in college, but he hadn't yet (or at least
he told himself) crossed over into 'real' adulthood. He felt that his features
kept him pretty solidly in the "handsome-to-cute" range; short brown hair, hazel
eyes, not so pretty folks were constantly proposing on the street, here in
Manhattan, but he hadn't been thrown out of any beds, either.
Not that Columbia Law School left him too much time for boyfriends. Instead of
dreaming of steamy trysts on the beach, he seemed to have mostly nightmares
about waking up in the middle of Torts class unprepared. He knew that the stress
was getting to him: but there really wasn't enough time to go see the school's
counselors like they recommended. He'd have to either ditch class, or cut down
on his reading time. And the thought of doing either of those things sent his
heart into worse palpitations than the nightmares did.
He studied the mirror a bit more closely. Sure, his chest and abs weren't the
problem, but those nice almost-blue circles under the eyes certainly would be
sure to scare off any prospective lovers, he thought. If that didn't deter them,
then the muscle spasm his shoulders kept threatening him with, thanks to the
tension in his back, or the seemingly permanent crease that was starting to grow
in his forehead. Great. He'd graduate with a J.D. and a whole new set of
age-lines.
Shaking his head out of that particular train of thought, David pulled a pair of
black jeans and a gray sweater out of the closet and dressed. A casual party,
Brian had said. No need to dress up too much. He dug under the bed for his
Fluevogs and slipped 'em on; oxblood, for a splash of colors. He was tired of
these Manhattan parties where everybody seemed to be trying to win the contest
of who could cover themselves with the most square feet of pure black.
He hurried down the three flights of stairs and down the block to the subway.
Brian was subletting this apartment from a friend of his mother's - David envied
him for the sweet West Side two-bedroom almost as much as he envied how Brian
managed to get grades almost as good as David's when he spent barely half the
time studying that David did. David had managed to find a guy looking for a
roommate down in Hell's Kitchen, and admittedly, there wasn't anything wrong
with his place. It was just frustrating to finish work at the library at 2am and
then realize you still had to catch a train downtown to get home.
He was lucky and managed to catch an uptown local that was just arriving at the
station when he was. He grabbed a seat and leaned back as the train started
moving, still trying to get the thought of Constitutional Law out of the back of
his mind. He glanced across the aisle of the train, and almost did a double
take. By coincidence, this hunk that he'd spent hours mooning over in the
Columbia gym was sitting across from him, dressed up for a night on the town.
Seeing that the guy was reading his magazine, David felt safe to watch him for a
bit: he'd thought that nothing could top how this guy looked in the gym - his
body had that perfect balance of natural muscle that made you think he'd toned
it through lots of practice in the sack, rather than endless reps in the weight
room. Blonde crew cut, chiseled features - and a sort of unself-consciousness
that made it seem like he had not a friggin' clue just how beautiful he was.
David was nearly mesmerized by hint of nipple that you could see through the
sheer shirt that was stretched across the broad torso. It was true, he thought,
it's better when a little of the skin is covered up.
The train slowed to a halt and David leaned over to check which station they'd
arrived at. One more. Wondering if his dream man had left the train, he glanced
back across the aisle to find that sweet pair of blue eyes looking right back at
him. David felt his cheeks flush and he glanced down -- busted! He glanced back
up, half-sheepishly, after a second, only to discover his commuting companion
still watching him, with a sort of lazy, friendly grin on his lips that sent
David's stomach lurching a bit with nerves and sent a jolt right down to his
cock. I guess it was stupid to just assume he was straight, David thought.
Realizing he hadn't responded to the smile, David conjured up one in return,
hoping that his face wasn't as red as he felt. Why couldn't he have run into
this guy on campus or in a bar or something? What were you supposed to say to
somebody on the subway? His mind seemed to go blank even as he felt the train
start to slow again. David stood up, as the stud opposite him just sort of
watched him do so; his expression slightly expectant.
"Um, hey," David managed, tentatively. "This is my stop." The expression on the
guy's face was friendly, but a bit puzzled by this opener, and David beat a
hasty retreat out of there as soon as the doors opened. He fled up the stairs
without glancing back. He was pretty sure that the blonde would be sitting
there, laughing at the socially inept guy who hadn't really been able to string
two sentences together. Talk about a great first impression.
As he made his way to Brian's apartment, a thousand better things he could have
set slipped through his mind. In his fantasies, he was witty and self-possessed;
he managed to charm the stranger and invite him to the party, where everybody
was impressed and the evening eventually turned into a quiet tryst on the fire
escape where...well, the imagery collapsed as David's mind provided a more
accurate rendition of his performance on the subway. He would have done better
to just stay home and studied, and saved himself the embarrassment.
Two hours later, he crawled out of the window and onto the fire escape of
Brian's apartment. Brian's idea of a "few guys" had turned out to be a crowd of
immense proportions, and the longer David tried to socialize, the more he felt
out of touch with all of the folks drinking and dancing and having a good time.
He wanted nothing more than to forget about all the work waiting at home, or
about the missed chance down on the subway, but the more he wanted to put his
mind elsewhere, to more it returned there. He'd filled his glass half-full of
Stoli Citron and headed for the window to avoid the shrill attentions of one of
his first-year classmates from Westchester. Her voice seemed pitched to avoid
the normal human tones of hearing and aimed directly for animals gifted with a
larger range. She'd turned his stress headache into a near-migraine.
Barely a few sips into his impromptu headache cure, he heard the telltale
metallic "clangs" that indicated somebody was traveling down the fire escape
from the floor above. David was struggling to compose something that vaguely
resembled a smile when a surprisingly warm voice offered its own greeting. "Hey
there -- you better be careful. Sit out here all quiet like that and somebody
might step on you."
David glanced over and smiled a bit, though the expression seemed to stall on
his face. Brian had been telling him stories about the hot guy who moved in
upstairs, but David had basically chalked the situation up to Brian's usual
good-natured hyperbole. In this case, the end result was pure understatement.
David had never been into the 'Daddy' type, and the new arrival was easily about
fifteen years David's senior, but looking up into the deep brown eyes of the
unexpected arrival, David decided that he'd be willing to make the leap.
Without warning, the man slid his legs over the edge and sat down next to David.
"Hey there, I'm Eric," he introduced himself, glancing out across the alley over
the expanse of lit windows that cast a light over the city like a net of square
stars. He was a bit taller than David, and had slid in close enough so that
David was acutely conscious of how the man's body filled out the oxford shirt
and how solid the thigh was that slid up next to his own. "I hope you don't mind
if I hang out here for a while," he began. "I live upstairs. David invited me to
this party, but I'm not really big on crowds," he admitted.
David felt the now familiar closing of the throat that was becoming a habit, it
seemed, as soon as he ended up in close proximity to a handsome guy. "I'm
David," he said, smiling a bit, taking a gulp of his drink. Maybe the vodka
would help knock down the wall of incoherence that threatened to wreck his
chances for the second time this evening. "I'm from Brian's class over at
Columbia."
Eric seemed not to take too much notice of David's inability to speak, and David
was relieved to find that after a few minutes, his nerves seemed to vanish. All
the law students at the party had served only to remind him of all the work that
he'd left at his apartment, where Eric's mellow manner did the exact opposite.
Eric's offhand comment about how he knew law school must be a lot of work opened
up the floodgates, and David found it amazingly easy to share his frustrations
and his fears with Eric, who was a good listener.
David had finished off his drink, and Eric offered to get him another, as well
as something for himself, while he said 'hi' to Brian. "Wait right here," Eric
instructed him, and David felt all too willing to comply. The combination of the
vodka and a sympathetic ear had done a lot to un-knot the tension that had been
bothering him. He glanced at his watch and realized how much time had passed.
"I'll try not to bend your ear with all of my problems," he said,
apologetically, once Eric squeezed back out onto the fire escape, a few minutes
later. "I don't want to monopolize the conversation."
"I don't mind," was Eric's only response, and the tiny smile that slipped across
his strong jawline was enough to send David's heart beating a little faster.
"So," he asked, hoping to turn the topic to less of a personal place. "What do
you do for a living?"
"I'm a therapist," Eric answered, and David felt his face flush.
"So I guess you spend your whole workday listening to people's problems," David
muttered. "And here I went spending a half-hour of your time at a party going
through my own hassles with law school," he said, chagrined.
"Not really," Eric said, watching David's face with an element of obvious
attention that blunted the edge of David's embarrassment even as it encouraged
some stirring elsewhere. "Mostly," Eric went on, "I think your problem is that
you're just not sleeping enough."
"Not sleeping?" David echoed. "The point is I need more time to get my work
done, not sleep."
Eric shook his head, glancing back out over the nightscape. "Not at all, David,"
he said, seriously. "Unless somebody is fully rested, they can't work to their
full potential," he argued. "You sound like you know what you're doing - it's
not like the material is beyond you, but when you don't get enough rest, when
you can't let yourself relax enough to unwind and let all your reading sink in -
well, that's when you get a little behind, each night, and everything piles up,
one on the other, you get more and more tired, until you end up like you are now
- totally stressed."
David thought about this for a bit. "That makes sense," he agreed. "But I don't
know how to break the cycle," he said. "I try to go to sleep, and I just lie
awake thinking of all the work I have to do. Or I have some kind of school
nightmare and wake up more tired than I went to bed."
Eric just smiled. "Well, but see, you already know what you need to do - like
coming out tonight, coming to this party, taking a breather. You break the
routine, and the stress just falls away, doesn't it? I mean, you feel more
relaxed now than you did before you came out, right? You certainly look a lot
more relaxed."
David nodded. He certainly did feel better. He smiled a bit. "Well, I think I
should thank you for that," he said. "This conversation has done more to mellow
me out than anything else I've tried."
Eric smiled. "Well, whenever I get stressed out from work, I sit out on my own
fire escape," he began, pointing out towards where the lights stretched out on
the buildings, and past that, you could see the gentle curve of the trees in
Central Park, "and I just watch the lights, from the buildings, each one a tiny
window into somebody's life, imagining each person getting ready for bed, ready
to go to sleep, going through each step they have for ending the day, just
watching the lights and trying not to think about anything, just watching and
letting the lights relax me, the sounds of the city slowly just fading into one
quiet piece of music that also relaxes me a little bit more. Don't you hear
that, David?"
Eric's voice had shifted to a quieter, more intimate pitch, and David nodded in
agreement, though he was also just watching the interplay of lights, like Eric
said - they really were sort of beautiful - and it was the sort of thing that
you never paid enough attention to while you were living in the city.
"And as I watch the city getting ready for bed, David, I start to relax myself,"
Eric continued. "Each breath I take starts to relax me, each light I watch
shutting off sends my body a little bit closer to sleep, until I find myself
getting more and more relaxed, so relaxed I can hardly remember what it was that
got me stressed out in the first place, those things seem so unimportant, so far
away, all that matters is the sound of my breath, going in and out, and how
relaxed each breath makes me. More and more relaxed. More deeply relaxed in
every muscle as I just let go, breath, and slip a little deeper into pleasant
relaxation. The sounds of the city fade, into the background, just like all the
worries you have, and all that remains is a sense of deep, quiet peace, one that
grows more and more profound with each breath you take."
David drifted a bit, listening to Eric's words, until whatever Eric was saying
seemed to blur a bit and not really matter any more. Eric was so right: somehow
he'd lost that quiet place inside himself where he could totally let go and
relax completely, and it was so nice to find it again. Part of him became dimly
aware of the exquisite warmth of somebody's hands rubbing his neck, but it
hardly registered, because he was finding it more and more difficult to think of
anything besides how relaxed he felt, how calm, how quiet, how good.
His mind began to wander, and the lights of the city began to fade a bit, and he
found himself daydreaming about his trip on the subway, sitting across from the
guy from the gym, but in the dream he could see that the guy was surrounded by
some kind of halo; up close he could see how absolutely beautiful the young man
was: his features were so much more perfect than any other man he had ever seen,
like the beatified visions of saints from some pre-Raphaelite painting. This
time, his speechlessness wasn't an embarrassing moment; it was the appropriate
reverence for a devotee to present to his God.
The blonde with the crew cut stood, his expression quiet and subtly knowing, and
he began to move across the space between he and David. To David, the motion
seemed to slow, to stretch out, allowing his eyes to worship the man's form,
watching the shift of muscles beneath the smooth surface of his shirt and pants.
It all seemed so natural, so pre-ordained, that David should merely slip off the
bench of the subway car as his lover approached, arms reaching up around so that
his hands could slide up the back of sculpted thighs and cup the perfectly
shaped ass, leaning his face in to caress the bulge at the crotch of the man's
pants with either cheek.
David was filled with such a sense of delicious submission, realizing that he
wasn't meant to say anything, that he needed only to wait until now, until this
perfect moment when the man who was meant to own him would allow him to do
whatever he required, to allow David the privilege of pleasing him, to offer his
body up for the worship it so richly deserved. David's mouth licked the
stiffening cock through the pants, inhaling the scent there, hungry to take more
of the man into his body, wishing to melt through the layers of clothing so that
their flesh could meet without any barrier.
Hungry and reckless, David began to tear open the blonde's pants with a ferocity
he'd never had, even in his suck-and-fuck-anything-that-moved days in college.
He let out a low, deep moan of satisfaction as the slowly stiffening prick of
his lover was released into view, not wasting any time but lowering his mouth
around it with a desperate, hungry reverence, making love to it with all the
passion and ardor that his body could express. If he could just manage to show
his lover how much he wanted him, if he could please him sufficiently, if he
could only prove how much he deserved to be the one who had the privilege of
sucking this cock, of making love to this perfect body.
He soon fell into a delicious rhythm, bobbing his head up and down on the
glorious prick, both wanting to bring his lover to the best and strongest climax
ever, and yet also hoping that he'd never reach it, so that he could continue
blowing him forever, just allowing the feel and taste of this perfect man fill
every sense, as he sucked deeper and deeper, his whole body moving in a perfect,
beautiful rhythm that would never end, ever.
"David, hey - David. I think you spaced out on me."
David shook his head, lightly, trying to clear the cobwebs that seemed to have
taken up residence there. Still, there was a warm, heavy feeling that seemed to
permeate every limb that he didn't want to get rid of. It took him a while to
realize where he was; at Brian's party, talking with Brian's devastatingly
handsome older neighbor.
"Whoa, Sorry, Eric," he said feeling his face flush. He realized that his drink
was finished. How long had he dozed off for?
Eric just smiled. "I must have bored you right to sleep," he said, though there
was something in his tone that made David feel better: he obviously hadn't
minded that David had drifted off. "I'll try not to do the same Tuesday night."
"Tuesday?" echoed David, confused.
"Tuesday." Eric repeated, as he might to a slow child. He reached over to
David's shirt pocket and tapped a white card there. David didn't remember Eric
giving it to him. "You're my new pro bono case," Eric continued. "After you Con
Law final, you can come over here, and I can start working with you to see if we
can't do something about your insomnia. You deserve a good night's sleep," he
said. "And I intend to see you get one."
David smiled, in response. Talk about a lucky break. Not that he wouldn't have
jumped at the chance to spend more time with this guy, but just chatting with
him had already seemed to relax him so much - who knew how good he'd feel after
a real 'session' with the Doctor. "I look forward to it, then," he said.
"Tuesday." He slipped back and stood on the fire escape, preparing to climb back
in the window. "But I've never had any kind of therapy before," David admitted.
"I hope that I respond well to it," he half-grinned, sliding out through the
window.
Eric watched the young man leave with a very satisfied smile indeed. "Oh, I
think you'll respond quite well," he murmured, to the night air. "Quite well,
indeed."