The Movie

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(This was my first time writing and guy-guy stuff I think. I feel like the mood I was going for was largely inspired by Michael Turner’s Pornographer’s Poem, which is a great book and if you have my copy I want it back)

Keith had been chasing Amy for months – she was a barista at his local coffee shop and he’d been smitten from the moment he saw her. They got along well and he was pretty sure she was interested in him. She’d learned his order quickly, and learned to anticipate when he’d change it up. They’d only get to talk for maybe a minute at a time, hellos turning into quick banter. Keith stopped getting his coffee to go and started hanging out in the shop for a while, getting a few extra minutes between customers to chat. They both had a penchant for books, for bad sci-fi, for cats. Their chatting turned, in Keith’s mind anyhow, into gentle flirting. No boyfriends were ever mentioned, but they weren’t not mentioned. Keith had been single for a while. He’d decided to get his shit together after his last breakup. He started going to the gym, walked or biked instead of drove, and, generally, sort of tried harder. He’d been on a few Tinder dates, but his heart just wasn’t in them anymore; a lot of build up to a lot of disappointment. With Amy he felt a certain kinship.

Unexpectedly, Amy stopped him one day on his way out. It was near the end of the summer, it was hot and the weather forecast said rain all weekend. The bell on the door had just jingled when Amy said, “Wait hey, Keith, hold on.” She came out from behind the counter and stood between him and the open door. “Are you doing anything this weekend? I just downloaded the full Battlestar Galactica series and I had a couple days off and was going to just binge it, you know? But you’d said you’d never seen it either so I thought maybe you’d like to come over and watch some of it with me?”

Keith turned red. “Well, yeah for sure that sounds great.”

Amy touched his shoulder, “Great! I’ll text you my address. Give me a shout before you come over and give me a chance to clean up.”

“Perfect, yeah I’ll see you then,” he said, still a little in shock. The door nearly hit him in the face after he let it go. He was watching Amy walk back to the counter.


Friday dragged on and on. Keith had a hard time sleeping that night. He was imagining all the ways seeing Amy could go wrong tomorrow. He was filled with a nervous excitement he hadn’t felt in a long time. He wanted to jerk off, but he was picturing Amy’s lips around his cock and he didn’t want to waste anything in case his fantasy came true. He knew it was crazy. How many times had he talked himself up when meeting a girl only to be disappointed?

He threw off his blanket and breathed deeply and slowly. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get the image of Amy’s lips wrapped around his cock out of his mind.


On Saturday morning Keith wondered how early was too early to text Amy to come over. At what point would he seem like a crazy person?

He went to her coffeeshop, where she wasn’t working. He grabbed his usual, a large with a splash of cream, and a large with milk, which he knew was how she took it. Throwing caution to the wind, he sent her a text. If he was waking her up, he’d have coffee, at least, as an apology.

Screwing up his courage, he sent the text.

He waited.

And sipped his coffee.

Finally his phone buzzed. Amy told him to come on over – she’d been up since 6, a bad habit from working early mornings. Keith looked at the sky. The clouds were starting to roll in and the 11 am light had taken an odd, gloomy cast. He picked up his pace, and went to Amy’s apartment.

He didn’t make it in time – the clouds opened up just as he was reaching her block. He could hear the rain coming from down the street, chasing him. He ran the last few houses and scampered up to her front porch.

Amy lived on the top floor of a house – he rang the doorbell, ‘3’, and waited. He could feel someone coming down the stairs of the old house, heard the sound of a lock clicking. The door swung open and Amy opened the door.

“Oh my god you’re soaked! When did this even start? I’m so sorry!”

“Hi,” Keith said sheepishly. His Keçiören Escort hair hung limp over his face, “I’m so sorry, I’m going to make a mess of your place.”

“You’ll be fine – it’s nothing fancy up there, believe me.” Then, noticing the two coffees, “Keith, you sweetheart, you shouldn’t have.” She took it from him and lead him upstairs, “You can take your shoes off when we get up there – I don’t have anything that would fit you, but I can lend you a towel to dry off?”

“That’d be perfect, thank,” Keith said. The old stairs creaked. When they reached the top landing, Keith breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t see any guy’s shoes laying around. Why would she invite him over if she had a live-in boyfriend anyhow? Keith knew he was being an idiot, he just couldn’t help it. Amy appeared with a towel and helped pat him dry.

“TV’s just over in the next room through the kitchen. And sorry it’s so hot in here, our AC is connected to the other units and I don’t think they feel the heat.”

Keith took a moment to look Amy over – she was wearing cut off blue jean shorts and a white tank top. Her bra, black, was peeking through.

Keith knew Amy caught him staring – he couldn’t help it. She smiled, “Come on, I’ve got it’s all queued up on my computer.” Coffee in one hand she beckoned Keith with the other.

Amy’s living room was compact – Keith saw a bathroom through one door, and a bedroom through another. The couch dominated the space – a rough L-shape, Amy sat in the corner and Keith sat next to her. She hit play, and Battlestar Galactica started up.


They had watched a couple of episodes, Keith realized he wasn’t really paying attention to the shows; his full attention was focussed on Amy. He could feel her next to him – the heat of her leg gentle resting against his. Their coffees were done, and the third episode was wrapping up.

“I’m going to pop into the bathroom quick, ok?” Amy said hopping up and hitting pause. “Could you get me some water? I’ll be right back.”

The bathroom door closed behind her. Keith got up and went to the kitchen. He looked around for a couple of glasses and filled them with water from the sink and wandered back to the living room. He sipped his water and looked around a little – there were some bookshelves he hadn’t noticed before and began scanning titles. Some of them he recognized – sci-fi classics, some university textbooks. Keith brow furrowed at some of the computer programming titles, though. He didn’t think Amy had studied that. He heard the bathroom door open and Amy emerged smiling.

“Sorry! Ready to get back into it?”

Keith nodded and sat down. Amy sat facing him and stretched her legs over his lap.

“Do you mind? I’m sorry, I usually just flop on the couch when I’m here alone.”

“No it’s cool,” Keith said. He didn’t know what to do with his hands so he put them on her legs. They were smooth and lightly tanned from the sun. She had to wear pants at work as part of her uniform, so he guessed they didn’t see much sunshine.

The show started again, and Keith was still thinking about Amy’s legs on him when he heard the door open, then close, and heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

Keith’s heart raced – did she have a boyfriend after-all?

“Hey,” Amy called out without getting up. “How was work?”

“Good,” a male voice responded.

“Did you get rained on?”


A man came through the door then. He was tall, a little taller than Keith, and was holding a black t-shirt balled up in his fist. He was shirtless, and muscled to the point where Keith felt self-conscious. Not like ripped, but Keith knew this guy knew his way around a gym better than he did.

“Oh shit, I didn’t know you had someone over,” the strange man said.

“We’re just watching Battlestar,” Amy said, not getting up. “Oh Keith this is my roomate, Mark.”

“Hey,” said Mark, extending a hand. Keith took it. Mark’s hand was firm, like it was made of muscle. Keith suddenly felt very weak. “I love Battlestar, let me grab a shirt. You guys want anything? A beer?”

“Sure,” Amy said, “Get one for Keith, too.”

Mark disappeared into the kitchen Etimesgut Escort again and Keith heard the clanking of bottles and the sound of them being popped open.

Mark reappeared and distributed beers and sat next to Keith on the couch. Keith couldn’t move because of Amy’s legs on top of him. She stretched out when Mark sat down, resting her feet on his thighs.

“Oh this is season one, nice.” Mark said, taking a swig of beer, “I loved the whole story arc. So good.”

Keith felt Mark’s thigh touching his. He drank some beer. Mark, Keith though, might be manspreading a bit. He was definitely taking up more room on the couch than he was. Even in the humidity, he seemed comfortable touching legs. Keith found himself staring at Mark’s leg. It was well-muscled in a way that his wasn’t. Fuck.

They drank their beers and watched more Battlestar; Keith couldn’t help but be very aware of Mark’s presence. They chatted a bit between episodes. Mark got up and grabbed some more beers for them and sat down again. He put his arm around the back of the couch, behind Keith’s head. It wasn’t touching, but Keith felt the heat off his arm. He imagined for a minute what it would feel like to be held by that arm. Amy’s legs shifted on his lap and he felt his cock getting hard.

The episode ended, and Amy held her arms out to Keith, “Help me up?” He grabbed her by her arms and pulled her up. She landed on his lap and put her arm around his neck, “I hate to do this, but I am dying in here. It’s so fucking humid. Do you mind if I grab a quick shower?”

Keith could feel her ass on his cock. How couldn’t she feel it?

“Yeah definitely go for it,” Keith said, flustered. She slid off his lap and went into the bathroom.

“I’ll just be a couple minutes, I just need to cool off.” The door closed part-way behind her. Keith heard her shimmy her pants off, and then the water turn on. His boner pushed against his jeans as he pictured her naked.

“Want another beer?” Mark offered, getting up.

“Sure, why not?” Keith said lamely. He watched Mark go to the kitchen.

Mark reappeared a few moments later, beers in hand. “You’re from the coffee shop, right?” Mark said, handing Keith the fresh beer. “Amy’s mentioned you a lot, haha. I think she might have a little crush on you.”

Keith didn’t know what to say, his face just turned red.

“Don’t worry, man, I know you like her, too.”

Mark sat down again next to Keith, his arm back around the back of the couch.

“So, do you work out?” Mark asked, sensing the awkward silence.

Keith snapped out of it, “Yeah I’ve been going for a couple years. I love it, I think I’ve like, his a plateau though. I haven’t been able to add any mass in a few months.”

Mark started talking about weight-lifting and whether it was the beer or something else, Keith found himself tuning out completely. He was just staring and nodding dumbly. He was looking at Keith’s shoulders as he was explaining… something. He could see muscles under his skin, under his shirt. He kind of wanted Mark to take his shirt off again. He wanted to see what he looked like again. He kind of wanted Mark to snuggle up to him again so he could feel him touching him again.

Keith caught himself. What the hell was he thinking about? He looked at Mark again, who was explaining nutrition to him or something, and thought about his arms again and how much he’d like to feel them holding him, how much he’d like to run his hands down his body and feel his tight muscles.

Lost in his reverie, Keith hadn’t noticed the shower turning off and the door opening. Amy was framed by the doorway, her petite body looked so small in comparison. She was back in her shorts and tank top, though now her short hair was wet and dripping down her neck.

“Hey sorry guys, I hope you two were getting along well.”

“Yup,” Keith managed to squawk. He snapped back into reality to hear Mark saying, “Maybe we should hit the gym together sometime.” Keith nodded dumbly.

“Shall we get back to it?” Amy said, flopping back down on the couch.

Keith sat down and Amy put her legs back on him. Mark sat next to Keith, and once Demetevler Escort again, Mark could feel the warmth from Mark’s leg, could feel Mark’s leg moving a little closer.

The episode wore on, and Keith absently traced his hand down the length of Amy’s leg with one hand. She didn’t object, and she didn’t move away, so he kept doing it. He took the last sip of his beer and moved to set the bottle down on the coffee table when Mark said, “I’ll get that.” Their hands touched and their eyes locked for a second. Keith pulled his hand back, as though he’d been shocked.

“Thanks,” Keith said. He felt his hard on coming back, pushing against his pants, pushing against Amy’s thigh.

“That feels good,” Amy said. Keith didn’t know if she meant his hand or his cock. Mark came back, sat down. Close.

Keith’s erection was painful now. He put his arm up like Mark had been, put it behind his neck, touching him. His other hand continued stroking Amy’s leg, a little more firmly now, venturing a little further up her leg.

Keith looked over at Mark, who was just cracking open another beer. He put it down on the coffee table, and put his hand on Keith’s knee.

Keith leaned in and pressed his lips against Mark’s. Mark’s hand came off his knee and cradled his face gently… strange for such strong hands to be capable of such tenderness. Keith ran his hand through Mark’s hair, down his back, rubbed his shoulders through his shirt. He wasn’t sure what he was doing – he didn’t love Mark, he thought he was hot but it was something else – he wished he knew what it felt like to be Mark, to be that strong and handsome, easy-going and kind. He wanted that for himself, and this was the only way he felt he could get that feeling.

Mark pulled away, “Wait,” he said, and pulled his shirt off. Amy was sitting on the couch, watching this. Keith struggled for words, “I’m sorry, I-“

“Don’t worry about it,” Mark said, “It’s ok.”

“Hey,” Amy said now, putting her arms around Keith and hugging him, “It’s ok.” She kissed his cheek.

Keith kissed Amy. She tasted different than Mark – the taste of beer was still strong on his lips, less so on hers. Her smell – soap and shampoo – mixed with Mark’s sweat and deodorant. He ran his hand down Amy’s body, felt her slight frame – he felt how fragile she was. His hand, though, strayed back to Mark’s leg. He loved how strong and full it felt, the contrast between what he was feeling was startling.

“Fuck,” Keith stammered between kisses. He felt Mark’s arms around him, felt Mark’s chest against his back. His hand strayed up Mark’s leg to his crotch. He could feel Mark’s cock, hard, through his jeans. He wanted to touch it, he wanted it to be a part of him. He fumbled with Mark’s belt, and Mark obliged, guiding his hands, undoing his fly. Amy, meanwhile, was doing the same to Keith – her hands ran down his body to his hips, to his fly. She worked her fingers and moments later Keith’s cock was free and erect.

Mark’s jeans slid down his legs and he kicked them aside. He sat down next to Keith and took his face again and kissed him deeply. Keith’s hands ran down Mark’s chest to his shaved cock. He took the length in his hand, and gripped it – not too tightly, but how he would like his cock to be held. He stroked up and down, neither fast or slow. He was imagining what it must feel like to have Mark’s cock stroked, what Mark must be feeling. He imagined it must be good. He would think it was good. Amy knelt in front of Keith and ran her hands up and down his cock, mirroring what Keith was doing. She took his cock in her mouth and felt how hard he was, how turned on he was, with her, with Mark. Keith moaned, stroking Mark’s cock faster. Mark started bucking as he began to cum. Keith felt hot splashes of Mark’s cum land on his hand, his arm, his leg. He imagined how good it must have felt, he felt Amy’s mouth, hot and wet on his cock, and he felt his own orgasm building. He kissed Mark again, deep and hard and he ejaculated in Amy’s mouth. She swallowed, and swallowed, as Keith pumped cum down her throat.

Mark got up first and put his boxers back on and ducked into the bathroom. It wasn’t until after Keith heard the water start that he dared move.

Amy wiped her lips off on her tank top.

“We’re good?” She asked.

“I should probably go,” Keith said, grabbing his clothes.

He made it to the bottom of the stairs and opened the door. It was still storming out. Almost predictably, thunder crashed and the downpour intensified. Amy put her hand on his shoulder, and led him back upstairs.

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