Warren looked around the mostly empty condo, taking in the boxes yet to be unpacked, the new paint smell, the sound of the Pacific that reached his ears. He was finally settled, finally in L.A. And he was alone. No band to record with or tour with or even bicker with – he'd gotten the call from Dale just the week before telling him she just couldn't do this without Terry. What was the point? she'd asked. She was going to get on with her solo career and suggested that Warren do the same. Some of his fans would certainly be thrilled by the idea of him solo. They'd been more than vocal in their desire to see him play his own material. And he'd give them what they wanted, what they'd waited for. As soon as he got used to the idea of being on his own first. He thought about going online, dropping by his chatroom. Rock Rod was ready to roll out any day and anticipation for it was climbing. Warren had gotten the final version of it just that afternoon. It sat on his desk, next to his laptop. Fucking thing was exquisite, man. Warren picked it up and stroked it, marveling. Looked and felt just like his dick. He hoped everyone got as much pleasure out of it as he did out of the real thing. He put it down, smiling at his thoughts. Speaking of which, he needed a blowjob. He hadn't had anything in the past few days. He'd been busy with the move and the pressure was starting to get to him. Who to call? One of the SoCal regulars? They not only did him for free, but they also let him film it for the website. He could hire a pro for the night – just to mix things up. It wouldn't do for his fans to get sick of seeing the same people sucking his dick. Maybe a guy this time…that would blow everyone's mind. There were already jokes out there about him being a gay porn star. Why not make it a reality? He'd been asked more than once when he was going to do it. And it would certainly make more than just his gay fans happy to see guy on guy action. Only problem was, Warren only wanted one guy to suck his dick. And he didn't think Simon would want to be filmed doing it. Besides, Simon was in England anyway. Warren shrugged. One of the SoCal regulars it was. He picked up the phone to dial Lisa and heard the doorbell. Maybe she'd saved him the call. She'd dropped by once or twice over the last few days to help him unpack. He walked to the door, opened it and got a total jolt of déjà vu. "I thought you were in England, recording," he said, clutching the door handle. Simon smiled, brushed his hair out of his eyes and held up a bottle of Italian Merlot. "I had a few days off and thought I'd come by and see the new place." Warren opened the door wider to let him in, still a bit in shock. "I was just thinking about you," he said, as he closed the door. Simon was looking quite good these days – the reunion must be agreeing with him. He looked tanned, rested, healthy, like he'd been working out again. And he'd dyed his hair blonde again. "Were you now?" "Was I now what?" "Thinking of me." "Yes, yes, I was." Simon set the bottle of wine on the coffee table and smiled at Warren. "And what were you thinking?" Warren's dick tingled just from that wicked grin. "That I missed your blowjobs." The words spilled out of his mouth before he could stop them. "Well, we'll just have to see what we can do about that, then." Simon winked and looked around. "So, show me the place." This was beyond bizarre – not two minutes ago, Warren had been thinking about Simon and here the man was, in his house, talking blowjobs and wanting a tour. Kismet was a strange lady. But Warren did as he was told and showed Simon around. He was very proud of the place – putting in the hardwood floors alone had cost a fucking fortune, but it had been worth it. His studio, while smaller than Privacy, was exactly to his standards and his home gym boasted equipment that would make his friend Arnold Schwarzenegger green with envy. "Very nice," Simon commented, once they got to the back patio. The view of the Pacific was spectacular in the daylight, but almost as good at night. The stars looked close enough to touch. "So tell me why you're here again?" Warren couldn't help but be curious. It was beyond odd that Simon was even in L.A., let alone in his house. "I told you, I had a few days off and thought I'd visit." "And the real reason?" Simon laughed. "Caught me." "We did spend 15 years together. I'd like to think I picked up on a few things." "I heard talk you were depressed." Warren leaned back. He hadn't expected that answer. "Where'd you hear that?" "Word gets around, Warren. We know the same people, have mostly the same fans…" "Sarah," Warren guessed. Simon just grinned and leaned over to kiss the other man's roughened cheek. "I told you I don't kiss and tell. Let's go open that bottle of Merlot and you can tell me what's on your mind." Warren was torn between arousal at Simon's nearness and being touched at his concern. How many people would drop what they were doing and fly almost 6,000 miles to cheer up a friend? Simon strolled into the living room and Warren stopped in the kitchen to get two glasses and a corkscrew. "You hungry or anything?" he called out. "No, but thank you," Simon answered. "Oh wow, you didn't tell me it was out." "What was out?" Warren walked out and saw Simon holding up the Rock Rod. "Oh yeah, that. Pretty spectacular, isn't it?" "I'll say." Simon held it up to the light, scrutinizing. "This is amazing. It even feels real." To Warren's shock, Simon then placed it in his mouth and deep-throated it. The visceral jolt of lust that slammed in him almost brought him to his knees. "Doesn't quite taste real though," Simon stated, popping it out. "Doesn't quite have your scent." Warren cleared his throat, shifted his now painfully hard erection. "It's a dildo, Simon. It's only supposed to represent real life." Simon shot a quick, but knowing glance down at Warren's crotch. "Some things just have to be experienced, wouldn't you say?" Warren busied himself with opening the wine, not trusting himself to reply. He poured, handing Simon a glass. They both sat on the sofa. "So, what shall we drink to?" Simon asked. "I dunno, it's your wine." "Then how about to renewing friendships?" There was a wealth of innuendo in Simon's voice. Just hearing it got Warren hard again. "Sure," he said and they drank. "So, tell me why you're not feeling all there." "When did you get to be so direct?" "John's been hanging with you crazy Yanks. It's rubbed off on him." Warren laughed. "How is he?" "Fine, actually," Simon replied. "Boring, sane, together. Not at all like the Johnny I remembered. But sobriety suits him." "Good. Give him my best, would ya?" "You should be seeing more of him these days," Simon commented. "You both live in the same city now." "Some bridges should stay burned." "And some shouldn't. Look, you're both too old for this. Hell, we're all too old for this. Let it be. Have lunch with him, talk to him. You two used to get along." Warren took a sip of his wine. "Simon, I wish John nothing but the best. Really, I do. He's a great guy and we had some fun. But he still left, he bailed." "It had nothing to do with you." "Doesn't matter. He should've dealt with it and stayed. At least long enough to finish recording." "Alright, fine, it's history," Simon conceded, but gave Warren a hard stare. "I just think that if he and Nick can forgive each other, you could do the same." "I'll think about it." That seemed to satisfy Simon. "So, tell me why you're really here," Warren said. "I told you. I heard you were lonely." Simon paused. "And I missed you." Warren was intrigued. "Did you really?" "Yeah." "Did you miss me or my cock?" Simon's grin was sly, seductive. "And if I told you I missed both?" That was just the answer Warren wanted to hear. "Then I'd say you were sitting too far away." Simon stood in front of Warren and slowly began to strip. He'd definitely been working out again. He was way more cut and chiseled than he'd been the last time they'd been naked together. "You are looking remarkably fit these days," Warren said, as he shucked out of his own clothes. "Your legs look like granite, man." Simon shrugged, but his blush betrayed his pleasure at the compliment. "Recording's a grueling business. It felt good to have something mindless to do at the end of the day." "I approve of the results." "I was hoping you would," he replied and knelt between Warren's thighs. "Seems like only yesterday," Simon remarked and stroked the sensitive underside of Warren's dick. "Seems like forever to me." God, the waiting was going to kill him. "Simon, I'm not in the mood to be taunted." That hot sweet mouth on his cock felt even better than it did the last time. Before, Warren had been in a pleasant state of shock – what he and Simon were doing had seemed unreal, vaguely like a really intense dream. But now…now he could appreciate the way Simon enveloped him, cherished him. He could appreciate the slow slide of roughened tongue along his shaft, the appreciative murmurs while being taken deep down Simon's throat. He could really appreciate that the other man knew how to move, when to slow down. And could absolutely appreciate that Simon could gently massage Warren's balls and nibble on his dick at the same time. And this time, when Simon once again showed no signs of stopping, Warren was perfectly content to grab Simon's hair and pump until he came in that hot, willing mouth. "Goddamn, I missed you," he gasped, falling back on the cushions. Christ, he felt good. Drained, sated, horny – ready to fuck Simon senseless all night. And maybe even let himself be fucked. Simon seemed to read his mind. "Why don't you roll over and poke that sweet ass in the air so I can get off?" The question sent pure lust shooting through Warren's groin. And the idea sounded dangerously tempting. But he didn't know if he was ready. Lust and a willingness to please his partner could only take him so far and he wasn't sure if he wanted to cross that last barrier. "Perhaps later," he finally said. "If you're aching that badly, I could reciprocate." "You've sucked a guy off before?" Simon didn't bother to hide his surprise. "Not off, but yeah, I've tried it." And hadn't been too good at it or enjoyed it that much. But it had been 20 years ago and he'd been high. And this was a completely different person and a completely different time. "Come here." Warren sat up a bit and Simon straddled him. He had to straighten a bit until Simon's dick was at face level – it was rock hard and moist at the tip. "The idea of this is really turning you on, isn't it?" he asked. "Popping cherries has been a specialty of mine since the 80's," Simon reminded him. "If I can't pop your ass, this is the next best thing." Warren couldn't help but chuckle. "Let me know if I'm fucking up." "You'll be fine. And I'm also in no mood to be taunted." He smiled at having his own words thrown back at him, then busied himself with rediscovery. He'd forgotten the indescribably incredible sensation of warm, solid cock sliding down his throat. Or how much he liked the feel of all that hard flesh stretching his lips, his mouth. The taste alone was worth the experience. His mind was filled with texture and shape…he felt full, complete, in control. And he was ravenous for more. It was impossible to even articulate the sensations to himself and, after a minute, he didn't even bother. He just concentrated on giving that lovely cock the same pleasure he'd gotten. And Simon was more than patient with him. He guided Warren through the first few motions with a slight shift here, a hum of satisfaction there. It was surprisingly easy to fall into a rhythm – sucking and nibbling and slow slides deep down his throat. Warren even glided over Simon's scrotum, laving and teasing until Simon was shuddering and Warren was on the brink himself. "I could swallow you whole," he commented, licking up the underside. Honestly, he could do this all day, but the greed was too great. He wanted to devour, to impale his mouth and fill it until he was drunk with the taste, choking with the flavor. No more playing, no more teasing. Warren grabbed Simon's hips and rammed the other man's cock down his throat again and again, scraping it raw, almost delirious with want. He whimpered in protest when Simon finally bucked and spurted thick, hot come in his eager mouth. He hadn't been ready to stop. Simon slid bonelessly off Warren and collapsed on the sofa. "You sure you've never done that regularly?" he asked, as soon as he could trust himself to form coherent words. Warren spent one last long moment savoring the flavor of semen on his tongue, then swallowed. "Nope. Just natural instincts, I guess." "I wish more people had your innate talent." "The world would be a better place," Warren agreed. And, truth be told, he was rather pleased with himself. Although he was all kinds of thirsty. He picked up his forgotten wine glass and took a sip. "You know, this isn't a bad combination." Simon winked. "Why else do you think I picked that brand?" "I don't wanna know." "Probably not. In any case, I wouldn't tell you." "Fair enough. So, now what?" "Now we eat because I'm hungry. And we talk because I've missed conversing with you. And we fuck until we can't move because we've got a lot of lost time to make up for." Sounded like a perfect evening to Warren.
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