Paraluman

ERROR 404 (PART 1)

He said nothing could change him.

It wasn't a shock for a homosexual man like Blake Hastings to be attracted to a woman.

In fact, it happened most often than not, he just accepted it as a part of himself. He adored beauty and flesh of a voluptuous woman more than a straight guy. Unlike the half population of heterosexual men, Blake could appreciate women without thinking of them as someone to take in his bed.

Until today.

He certainly wanted to take Samantha Laurie in his bed and screw her brains out.

Blake fought a rising tide of panic. For a fully committed gay, this was a life-changing catastrophic shift of s****l preference. And he wasn't ecstatic about it.

"I'm sorry to say this, Mr. Hastings, but it is rude to stare at someone. Especially when a full ten minutes had passed."

Only ten minutes and he already envisioned her on his bed, kitchen, dinner table, and bathroom. Flat on her back and n***d. Definitely n***d.

Disgusted with himself, he apologized. "Samantha-" Her brows raised as he used her given name without her permission. He cleared his throat. "Samantha, I can't take you as my tenant."

Emerald green orbs flashed in defiance as he finished talking about the bullshit of enjoying his solitude. He watched, fascinated, as she slowly leaned forward, her spine stiffening as steel. She shifted slightly and quickly as if preparing herself for a battle. A table must have been served as a barrier between them, but he knew with certainty that she just crossed her white leg he shamefully ogled earlier when she strode inside Tammy's diner wearing flimsy bright pink shorts. Blake stared as Samantha shook her head in disbelief, her wavy jaw-length black hair angrily brushed her chin and cheekbones. One strand of hair was stuck on a pursed, furious lips.

He shut his mouth and braced himself from the women's outburst he, as much as possible, avoid.

Crossing her arms beneath her breasts, Blake tried to slide his eyes away to her shirt with ANXIETY printed on it. The letters strained around her round breasts, letting him have a glimpse of her b*a lining.

Jesus!, He groaned out loud. He really had to think outside the gutter. One minute with Samantha Laurie and he turned into a teenager boy starving from s*x. Absently, he rigorously scratched his eyes with his palms, pleading it to behave.

"Mr. Hastings." She called in worry. "Is there something wrong? Sorry to say this but you looked uneasy since we started this meeting. Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm all right. And my decision is made, you have to rent another house but not mine."

"I don't understand. Julie-"

"Julie is my sister, who did not talk to me about this. I own the farmhouse, she should've."

He didn't mean to snarl but couldn't help it. Blake was helplessly losing control. Having a hard-on was evidence one.

She lifted her chin, "I'm sorry to inform you this but I've already deposited my down payment for the whole month of September."

"I'll reimburse you."

"No!" He watched, stunned in silence, as she jumped off the stool and cracked her palm against the table. He was vividly aware of the patrons looking at them curiously. "You, bastard. I don't know which planet you learned your manners from but you damn well tell me your problem." She leaned further forward, her eyes leveled with his. "Tell me."

"I want to f**k you." Gasps and laughter echoed in the distance. "I want you on my bed, on my wall, on my floor. n***d. So, Samantha, run away from me as farther as possible."

Samantha shot back, putting distance between them as she could manage but not to the point she would look as if she was retreating. "But you're gay!" She yelled accusingly.

"I know and it scares the hell out of me."

Samantha plops down on the chair with a silent thud. She can't believe it! This man, who Julie described as a big disappointment for the women's brigade for being gay, was having an identity crisis because of her. She scrutinized his hazel eyes and regret it. She wanted to scrape away the grave seriousness she saw in it. And desire. A bone-chilling, no-nonsense l**t. She shuddered.

He was giving her a way out. Samantha knew that Blake Hastings would definitely do what he said.

And she was crazy to realize she wanted him to.

Goodness, her brain must have been left in her apartment in New York. She couldn't think straight.

She licked her lips in nervousness and watched as his eyes followed the trail of her tongue. Who the hell was this man? He was driving her mad in a span of twenty minutes. She couldn't afford to think about spending time with him for the whole month.

Oh, but she could as she stared at his long sandy brown hair that framed his grim face with tiny strands l*****g the skin around his ears, forehead, and neck. His nose was slightly crooked she wondered if he had a big bad fist fight. He even bore a scar at the edge of his right jaw. He looked so menacing and rugged, she couldn't picture him as a farmer. A gunslinger, perhaps. But not a farmer.

Yet there's something about his jaw and chin that showed softness and femininity. A feature she forcefully focused on to stop herself thinking how deliciously manly he was.

Becoming more nervous than a second ago, she licked her lips again.

He groaned again. "Please, Samantha. Stop it." She bit her lips instead. "Damn. My libido was pleading ceasefire."

"Of all the arrogant--it's a habit I can't break! Don't you dare tell me what to do just because you can't control your--your--"

"l**t?"

"--Attraction!" Her face heated.

His body slumped and his face wrinkled in fierce concentration. "Let me tell you, Samantha, what is the right thing that you should do. You're going to pack your things, put on your car, get a passport, and stay away from our town. Stay away from my farm."

Panic gathered in her chest. She can't. For the love of God, she can't go back to New York. Just thinking about her ex-fiance gave her the creeps. She bluffed, "Fine. If you want to f**k me. f**k me. But I'm going to live at your house."

Blake's manhood enraged. "You're going to regret this."

"That's when you're wrong, Mr. Hastings. This is the best decision I ever did in my life. I love your town. I love your farm. And there's no one, not even you to stop me from fulfilling the life I dreamed."

She ended her speech without l*****g her lips as a sign of wrecking nerves. She would not budge. And he knew it. It's was either he let her inside his house willingly or she'd force him doing so.

Samantha and Blake ignored the comic sound of a busy diner as they stared each other down.

Blake knew he was defeated. Hell, he already was when he laid his eyes on her.

He grunted dangerously and stood, letting her see his arousal. Trying to scare her away one last time. She didn't. Instead, she stared at it curiously before her tongue wet her lips again.

His palm met the table with a sickening thud. "You win, lady. Get your keys and follow me to the farm." Triumph gleamed her eyes, turning it to an earthy moss. "Rule number one: Stay away from me."

Half an hour later, they stood face to face on the front yard of his farmhouse. Despite his unwelcoming mood and attitude, Sam absorbed every detail of her surroundings. Magical, she thought. It looked as if she stumbled inside a book where dragons and mermaids live. Woods, blooms, hays, and grass. Everything fascinated her. The farm animals made noises she couldn't wait to hear every morning to wake her up. The smell of life seeped through her making her feel more closer to nature than she was in the city. Central Park was only a tester taste of earth. And this, this was the real deal.

Forgetting their personality war, she smiled at him fully. "You're home is breathtaking."

He looked momentarily distracted and nodded his gratitude. He walked inside his house without offering her to help her with her luggage.

Bastard.

After three trips, she placed her possessions inside the living room. It was depressing how her life of six years in New York could be ensconced in just two boxes and a suitcase.

Her breath hitched. Oh, my beloved nature. His home was...beautiful. Exotic beauty. With a lot of personalities than it's owner. At her left, his living room was not too large but not too small either. A set of a sofa with mixed colors of throw pillows was in the middle with a huge fireplace in front and rug in between them. To her right, she gazed at the island with stools that separated the kitchen from the living room. Steel and wood dominated it.

Suddenly, Blake materialized at the bottom steps of the stairs. He was pointing at the door beside the kitchen, it was the laundry room. He motioned her forward and ascended the stairs.

Rude as always, she grudgingly followed him.

The moment she reached the top, she found herself rapidly pinned on the wall. She had no time to be surprised as a feverish body crushed hers. Her protest was swallowed by Blake's hungry mouth. Hard and close-mouthed. Wet and unyielding. She was achingly aware of his erection prodding against her belly and she whimpered. Letting his lips opened slightly to nibble on her bottom lip before pulling away.

"I've been thinking about your taste." He ran his thumb on her bottom where it swelled from his bite. "Vanilla."

Before she could say anything else, Blake flicked her chin teasingly and padded away, hands on his back pockets looking as if nothing earth-shattering happened between them. On the other hand, Samantha closed her eyes to gather some self-control and wait for her heart to stop beating like crazy. She was immensely aware of the throbbing pain in her throat, the tip of her breast, and in between her thighs.

Furious by his effect on her, she followed him to the room. Inside showed two single beds with only a yard away and a nightstand in between. Clean blue and white sheets covered it with two huge fluffy pillows with Mickey Mouse's face (bed on the right) and Goofy (left) on it. "Why do you have two beds in your room?"

He was grinning. "Because it's our room."

"What?!"

"This is the problem, you see. There are only one room and two bathrooms in my house. This room was originally has a wall dividing it but I find it odd having two room when I live alone. I added a second bed so my niece or nephew could come over for overnight. I bet Julie failed to mention our little problem, did she?"

He was enjoying it, she knew. For the last thirty years of her life, she never encountered a despising and infuriating man. Not to add, a gay man who wanted her.

"The ad didn't mention a room. I surely stated there that the only available is bed space. You're not reading it carefully, Samantha."

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid Samantha. She scolded herself while she stayed rooted in the doorway. But she refused to be defeated. "Well, I love it." To prove, she lied down on the bed to her left. "This is the best."

Blake watched her as she closed her eyes, looking contented as ever. She looked...right. She looked as if his home belonged to her than his.

The kiss was a test. He was still proving to himself that he only wanted a man and nothing else. For thirty-two years since he was born, he only had one female partner and his buddy down there couldn't even manage to get up after a full twenty minutes of groping and pumping. In the end, he apologized to Carrie, his high school sweetheart, and broke up with her. Next thing he knew, he was screwing every abled man who liked him. Straight, bi, or homo.

"What is Rule number two?" She asked.

Forcing his taut body to relax, he answered. "No other s*x partner allowed unless it was me."

She laughed. He listened, transfixed. "I give up. Gay or not, you're a sorry excuse for handsome and sexy men."

"You think?"

"Oh please. You're definitely aware of your looks. No wonder men like you."

"How about women? Do you think they like me?"

She turned to her side, looking at him. "Is your ego badly in need of stroking, Hastings?"

He laughed then. Rusty and throaty. He lied back down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. "Well, they like me as their gay friend. A man they could talk to without malice. A comfortable friend." He turned and copied her position. "But never as a lover."

"When did you realize you are gay?"

"Sixteen. When did you lose your virginity?"

She raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"What? You asked a personal question and I can't?"

She laughed. "Twenty-four."

"Whew. Ever heard of college wild nights?"

"Ha-ha. Ever heard of being responsible?"

He smiled. "How many boyfriends did you have?"

"One. What? Not all women are required to have a boyfriend more than one."

"How many s*x partner?"

"Hey! It's my turn now." She curled on the bed comfortably, thinking. "How do you find s*x with a woman?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Never had one."

"Are you serious?"

"Deadly. Now, how many s*x partner you had?"

Samantha jerked up from the bed, still doubtful. "You can't be serious. How could you think about--about bedding me when you--you never touched a woman! That's absurd!"

He grinned, all teeth showing. His hazel eyes turned to gold. "Well, if you're going to tell me how many s*x partner you had, I'm expecting that with your, uh, expertise on the activity, you could show me. Guide me."

"But I only had one!"

"That sucks. But it's all right. We can learn in the process."

The teasing quality that dance in her green orbs were replaced with dread. This can't be happening. She can't believe that she was having the same mistake twice.

Blake knew that something went wrong and shifted between them. The comfortable companionship had dissolved so as quickly as it happened. Before he could stop himself, he knelt in front of her and nudged her chin to make her look at him in the eyes. Dread was now clouded with determination.

"As a tenant, I only have one rule." She flicked his hand away. "Stay away from me."

* * *

For the past two weeks, they managed to stay away from each other without a single word or argument. She cooked her own meals. He drove to the town for his. With an unspoken agreement, they were not sitting or standing in the same place twice.

Nights, however, were a different matter. Sam and Blake wasted night time by tossing, turning, and ignoring the s****l frustration that seemed to be pulsing in every inch of their body.

Blake had tried twice to engage himself with a man who was willing to screw his brains out but neither his brain nor his body could make him feel excited. He was starting to panic and tried again. On the fourth try, he tried bedding a woman. Nothing. No rush of l**t. No desperate need. Just detachment. They couldn't even manage to reach second base.

Finally, he knew. He wasn't gay anymore or a newly heterosexual. He just wanted Samantha. No one but her.

Samantha, on the other hand, relied on her hand for relief. It was all Blake's fault for being so loud in the morning, calling her name while pumping his fist around his length for release. She was so aroused since then and found her panties damp the whole day and the next.

When her rental car finally arrived, Samantha escaped the house and tried to mingle in the town, only to compare every male she encountered to Blake. And no one seemed to surpass him. Damn him and all his straightforwardness about him wanting her body.

Now all she could think about was wanting him back.

Sam and Blake showed incredible self-control that no man in his right mind should have. l**t and desperation swirled around them so intense, anyone would wonder how they managed to live in one roof-one room-without ripping each other's clothes off.

Up until one midnight came when the farm animals were resting, trees sighing, and the moon shone through the window. Sam abruptly woke up. Intensely aware of the dampness in between her thighs and her rapid breathing. She burrowed her head on the pillow and silently screamed. She couldn't make it. With Blake beside her, a couple of meters away, she was seriously considering attacking him.

She summoned all her reasons for not attacking a sleeping man. Sam thought about her ex-fiance, Bob, and the stirring sensation in her lower belly ceased as if it never happened in the first place. Bob. Her lovable sweet, Bob, broke up with her with so much guilt glistening in his eyes that she wanted to comfort him. But she couldn't when she heard the reason of him backing out in their six years relationship.

Bob was gay.

And he was having a serious steady affair with her boss that started in the fifth year of their relationship. He even shared that he proposed to her because he tried to do the honorable thing.

For the first time in his life, Samantha was speechless. Being cheated because of a woman was one. But if it was a man, it was totally a different matter.

Her feminity couldn't accept the fact that she was outweighed by a man.

And she couldn't handle suffering the same misery with Blake. Especially now that she was starting to like him through the stolen glances she had when he was working, doing hays, talking to a cow, laughing with chickens and adopting a dog that strayed at their front yard. Her heart even swelled when he asked her to christened the dog a name. Then realized that they were not supposedly on good terms and walked away. She gave the name anyway and earned herself a knees-buckling grin from him.

She jolted abruptly at the sound of his moans. She turned and stunned at the sight before her. Blake was flat on his back, his blanket hanging at the edge of the bed, giving her the image his solid hard body.

Oh, my beloved nature. He was touching himself. His right hand disappearing under his boxers and visibly pumping his arousal. Lost in the sea of pleasure, he moaned and thrust his hip further into his hand.

Blake Hastings was having a wet dream. And Samantha knew she was the one in it by the way he whispered her name like a plea and satisfaction.

Nervous, she licked her lips wet.

She should walk away. Ignore it and sleep.

But her body was humming from the excess of arousal her wet dream had stirred. Her breaths matched his rhythm. Quick and short. She could see his chest heaved the same way hers moved. Both pulses visible at their throats. Samantha tried to ignore it and tried to calm her racing heart.

Yet her feet met the floor and found herself at the side of Blake's bed. Next thing she knew, Samantha was straddling his knees. Her nose nudging his unmoving hand through the thin cloth. She smelled his arousal and licked her lips in anticipation. He smelled like sea salt and something sweet. And smelled like a man.

When she pulled his boxers down, his manhood stood free and proudly, looking painfully erect.

Yep, definitely a man.

He moaned her name when her mouth found the globes at the base of his shaft and greedily suck it inside her mouth. Sliding her mouth upward, Samantha wrenched his fingers around his length with her mouth and teeth. Samantha hummed delightfully as she got his manhood for her own mouth only. So smooth. So rigid.

Samantha's mouth watered as she traced his engorged head with her thumb. She wondered in awe how he would taste. Bob had never reached this state of erection. And she was quite fascinated by the beauty and hardness of it. Thick wet arousal spurted in the slit of the head. She took it with her index finger. Felt the texture of it with her thumb before tasting it. Sweet and salt.

She dived into the hole of pleasure with him. Throwing any warning and cautions in the air. For the sake of her sanity, she wouldn't-couldn't-stop. She would have her taste. Samantha, a valedictorian, and an exceptional employee would not be responsible anymore.

She closed her mouth first around the head before twirling her tongue around it. Tracing every skin and vein. She lapped, licked, and teased. Building his arousal higher as well as her own. She could feel her dampness sliding down to his knee. After walking with damp panties for three days, she stopped wearing one. It was a damn best thing she did as she rolled her hips and humped her hip against his knees.

She didn't want to stop. Couldn't stop. As she bobbed her head up and down, desperately trying to take all of him into her mouth never wanting to leave any skin untouched. She worked and widened her mouth without stopping her hands from caressing the two globes of tightening flesh at the base of his shaft.

"What the f**k?" Blake shook his head to assure himself he wasn't dreaming. "Oh my god, Samantha. What are you doing?"

She sucked harder.

He cursed and pressed his head harder on his pillow. His eyes tightly closed with ecstasy etched on his face. My god, Blake thought. That tiny little mouth and wicked tongue. She was sucking him harder than his any male partners. She tackled his arousal rapid and rigorously that he had no choice but held on and enjoyed the ride. He could even feel her moist heat grinding against his knee, greedily looking for friction.

It was sexy as hell.

Blake couldn't hold it any longer than he wanted. But he didn't want to fly alone. He wanted him with her. Shifting slightly, he flexed his knee and met the thrust of her hips. His knee deliberately slid in between her folds. Trying if he could to put pressure on the hidden swelling bud of her desire.

She couldn't believe that he was getting more harder and bigger in her mouth. Now that he was awake, he was guiding her how to do it. And take her along with him. A moan escaped her lips as his knee firmly rubbed on her clit.

She was close.

He was close.

They moved rhythmically and with familiarity like they've been lovers for years. She took him to many places he never knew existed with the arms of a woman. He made her feel powerful and regained the part of herself her fiance had broken.

Soaring higher and higher, they exploded in lusty waves, leaving them in languid limbs and wild beating hearts.