Desert Within

The moment Isaac left, I was back on my GuyPwr app. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be on this early, but my body was just aching with “the urge.”

By some kind of divine timing, I immediately found what I was looking for. Fifteen minutes later, an ex-marine in his mid-twenties showed up at my doorstep.

He was equally eager because his shirt was on the ground seconds after I closed the front door. I immediately dragged him upstairs for a shower, never one to trust someone else’s hygiene standards.

Wow! What a body!

Too bad all that muscle was overcompensating for… Holy Fuck! There really wasn’t much to work with! Luckily, we'd prearranged that I'd be topping. I couldn’t wait to give that ass a good slapping!

I maneuvered him toward the bed and was about to press my lips against his when he held me back and said, “No kissing!”

Why was I disappointed? This was just sex, after all. I pushed him onto his back before grabbing a condom and lube from the bedside table. The guy was now looking at me as if I was about to stab him with a hot poker.

“Please don’t tell me that you've never done this before?” I asked, throwing the lube bottle back into the drawer.

He looked at me guiltily and said, “I don’t really feel much when I try to fuck girls, so I figured I’d give this a shot.”

His hopeless look actually made me feel sorry for him. It was obvious that I wasn’t going to be getting much out of this experience, so I decided to make a patriotic sacrifice.

“Holy sweet mother of…” he cried out, clutching my hair in his fists.

When was the last time this fucker had shot his gun? I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand and stood up. He lay there trembling for a moment longer before scrambling to his feet. He grabbed me by the back of my head and kissed me hard.

“What about your no-kissing policy?” I asked blandly.

“Oh, I was just curious what I tasted like,” he said, wearing a goofy grin.

What the actual fuck!?

“OK, I think we are done here!” I said, still tempted to slap his ass.

Just as Captain Tiny bent over to grab his clothes, I saw a flash of movement behind the window in the house next door.

***

Isaac was particularly quiet as I drove him to the fresh market. Of course, I only remembered my promise after finishing two bagels. I really sucked at this whole guardian thing.

“So, what are you planning to study?” I finally asked a decent question.

“Linguistics,” he said to the window.

“Wow! That sounds…”

“Dull?” he said, cutting me off.

“That’s not what I was going to say!” I mumbled defensively.

“It’s fine. Mom and Dad think the same,” he said, shrugging. “After learning how to speak, read, and write Arabic, I became fascinated with the origin of language.”

“You speak Arabic?” I asked, momentarily forgetting where he'd been for a quarter of his life.

Isaac finally turned to face me. He probably thought that I was fucking with him.

“How exactly are you preparing for a Linguistics degree?” I asked quickly.

I wanted to know more about his Arabic skills later. My new main character was becoming more and more interesting.

“My dad just wants me to learn how to do things by myself.” Isaac sighed. “He thought that being around my mother all the time was limiting my natural drive for independence.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I asked impulsively. “Shit, sorry. No offense to your dad.”

Isaac was smiling at me again and said, “Thanks for driving me to the grocery store, Mr. Steven.”

***

As Isaac laboriously studied the labels on everything he was going to buy, I considered what he'd told me in the car.

I didn’t know what kind of life he'd lived in the Middle East but if being on his own at night bothered him so much, then why should he suffer unnecessarily?

Should I let him keep his guestroom? A white lie to his parents would be balanced by a temporary vow of celibacy on my part.

“So, if you don’t actually have any work to do, how will you keep busy?” I asked as he walked us toward the fruit section.

He grabbed an orange and studied it before answering, “I guess I’ll just watch porn.”

Fuck! I did NOT expect him to say that! Mental image alert!

“I'm kidding!” he said with a devilish grin. I had the feeling that he was slowly letting his guard down with me.

“My mother gave me reading assignments, even though she technically isn’t my teacher anymore.”

“What?”

“I was homeschooled,” Isaac said, as he added three more oranges to his shopping cart.

“For five years?” I demanded in incredulity.

He nodded and said, “Mom developed something bordering on agoraphobia. She almost never left the house and most of the time I was with her.”

“Damn! That’s… I don’t know what to say. Was it because of where you were?” I asked carefully.

“No,” he said simply. “It was because she wasn’t in America.”

“So, what about friends?” I asked, desperately wanting to know more.

“Dad would take me to tennis classes on the weekend, but I was never really able to relate to anyone at the club,” Isaac told his rather sad story in a very matter-of-fact way.

“Chess was my real escape but…” He cut himself off and looked at me in shock.

“What?” I asked, looking around to find the source of his sudden panic.

“Can we go home now?” It was as if he had seen a ghost.

“Listen, why don’t you stay with me until your parents get back,” I said, in an attempt to distract him.

He looked at me pensively, so I added, “Nobody needs to know.”

Isaac nodded briefly before dashing to the cash register.

***

I took a swig of my diet soda, while I watched Isaac unpack his shopping.

“You really shouldn’t drink that poison,” he said over his shoulder.

I was starting to get the feeling that he was the one babysitting me.

“And you should learn how to take it easy, sometimes!” I bit back.

He stopped what he was doing and stared at me in surprise.

“You seem so tightly wound for a kid,” I said, finally speaking my mind.

“I'm not a kid,” he retorted, scowling.

“Well, you should be. What do you even do for fun?” I demanded, feeling the need to challenge him for some reason.

“I read, I play chess, I…,” he stuttered.

“What are you, fifty? I mean actual fun! Like…” I tried to come up with an epic example.

“Screwing random guys that you meet on the internet?” he said with a raised eyebrow.

“Hey! You can’t talk to me like that!” I yelled. Damn, did I just turn into my father?

Isaac put down the shopping bag and walked toward me with an air of determination. What the hell? Was he going to smack me?

An arm wrapped around my neck and pulled my head forward. His soft lips touched mine and stayed there waiting for me to respond. Half my brain was screaming foul, and the other half wanted to lift him off his feet and bring him upstairs.

I finally capitulated to a deep inner hunger and pushed my tongue into his mouth. My whole body hummed with something I'd never felt before.

The kiss lasted much longer than it should have. When I finally let go of him, he sucked in a deep breath and whispered, “I'm not a kid!”