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Steve Calloway sat in his car and stared at the modern L.A. office building as he struggled with his urges. Alex Mather was in there. Since Steve's mother had informed him that his old high school pal was back in town and what he did for a living, Steve had been obsessed.
Just what he really didn't need, the one man he'd always wanted and could never have. It'd been hell since his recent treatment and now this temptation. Sex addition was so cliché. Unfortunately, it wasn't a joke and had ruled his life for too long. The truth left him embarrassed, but he'd done the treatment. Worst of all, it never revealed to him the why of his condition. All that therapy couldn't unearth what made him addicted to sex. He'd even extended his stay and tried everything the treatment center offered.
Alex would help. Steve knew that deep down. His friend now performed past life regression therapy to help people with fears and addictions. Steve had been under control since he'd left treatment six months ago, but the urge to know why bothered him. Like any addiction, the temptation nagged incessantly. He had a grip on his needs, at least when he was awake.
The dreams killed him.
Once Alex's name returned to the forefront of his mind, Steve's old fantasies crept into his dreams again. Every night he dreamt of high school. They played on the baseball team together.
With dark brown eyes and hair that blurred the line between black and brown, Alex was one of the few Latinos in their high school at that time. His white father and Mexican mother put him firmly between cultures, yet Alex never seemed bothered by it.
The girls at school loved him, flirting with Alex andbefriending him. No one knew about Alex. He exercised caution. Steve went after what he wanted, but he only went for guys he knew wanted it and wouldn't talk.
He'd have gone after Alex in an instant except Alex had shut him down, only wanting friendship. Alex had been right not going further back then. All the ass Steve had gotten over the years meant nothing to him. Alex meant everything. They'd remained friends and shared a deeper connection.
The best pitcher on the team, Alex had a lot of muscle. Steve proved a solid first baseman, working hard to keep his first-string spot for the view of Alex on the pitcher's mound. The locker room and shower were where Steve learned to control himself. Alex's hard body was burned into Steve's memory, and he'd jerked off to it time and again. Why had it taken him until twenty-six to realize his addiction?
Steve rested his eyes and dared to relive one of his most intense scenarios. As he dozed, Steve's imagination ran wild with his high school fantasies. The night of his biggest regret rolled into his mind.
In their junior year, all of sixteen, and Steve pushed Alex to get a guy, any guy. After two years of being best friends, Steve hoped he'd be the guy but also worried it'd mess up their friendship. Even back then, his lust led him. If Alex hadn't been strong, Steve knew he couldn't have resisted screwing his best friend no matter what it did to their friendship.
Alex feared a backlash from the team if they found out and never got a rush off the danger like Steve did. Taking risks excited Steve. He'd gotten blowjobs at school, during dances, and behind the stands at baseball games. He took what he could get while Alex went without.
But the night Alex sat at home injured was different. A hitter returned a ball into Alex's right arm. Steve had hung around through all the X-rays and tests. With nothing broken, Alex had suffered only deep bruises and lots of swelling. He had bed rest for one weekend according to his mother. The southpaw could still pitch, but for a few days, even the coach benched him.
Steve had stopped by after dinner the next night to visit. Alex's parents always welcomed him like he lived there. They liked him. In Alex's room, the two teenagers watched the Dodgers play, and Steve went through all the "Get well" cards from the girls at school.
"If only you liked pussy, man. You'd have all you could handle up here right now." Steve sat next to his friend and kept looking at him. The energy between them was always intense.
"Yeah." Alex muted the television for a commercial.
"Got any food stashed away?" Steve opened the bottom drawer of his friend's nightstand and found a stash of another kind under a catalog for baseball equipment. "Where did you get these?"
"Put those away." Alex turned the volume back on.
"Holding out on me." Steve flipped through the pages of buff men kissing, sucking, and fucking each other. Good, all-American man-on-man porn.
"You've had a lot more guys than I have. Now put it back." Alex reached for them.
Their hands connected, and in Steve's fantasy, that's where he'd have done things very differently than in reality. He still put the magazines back into the drawer, but instead of moving to a chair and watching the game while sharing a bag of oatmeal cookies, Steve moved closer to Alex and ignored his friend's protest. Taking the risk he'd been too afraid to take in real life.
With a glance to check the door was locked, Steve rolled to his side and inhaled. His obsession was uncontrollable. He could probably pick Alex's sweaty jersey out of a lineup; the scent got him hard. But Alex wasn't sweaty now. The thin cotton T-shirt fit him tightly, and Steve slid a bold hand under the hem.
"What are you doing?" Alex stiffened.
"What you won't. You can't fight me with one arm in a sling." Steve kissed Alex, following his friend as Alex briefly tried to back away. Their tongues connected, and Alex inhaled sharply as his good hand grabbed the back of Steve's head.
If Alex weren't injured, Steve fully expected he'd have ended up with a black eye. But when he trailed his palm down Alex's hard chest to the front of his shorts, he found no objections, only the same throbbing need Steve felt every time he was near Alex.
Yanking the cotton shorts and white briefs down, Steve palmed Alex's shaft. He slowly explored Alex's cock and rolled his balls until Alex groaned and pulled him tighter into the kiss. Alex sucked Steve's lower lip, caressing it with his tongue so slowly Steve thought he'd come in his jeans. To relieve the pressure, he opened his own fly.
Steve didn't have Alex's patience and moved lower, kissing his throat and over the bunched shirt to his well-defined chest. He tongued down the muscles and rubbed his face against Alex's flat stomach before turning all his attention to Alex's hard cock. Sucking the head, Steve heard Alex moan as his hand gripped Steve's hair.
There was no rush now. For once, Steve wanted to take his time. He sucked and teased the thick member until Alex thrust up. His best friend whispered the dark and dirty things he wanted Steve to do as the ball game on TV drowned out their conversation and other noises.
Alex wanted him. The thrill alone drove Steve's need harder. Kissing Alex's balls, Steve glanced up at his friend's face contorted in pleasure, his eyes fixed on Steve's. How could such chemistry and lust be so one-sided?
When Steve sucked the erection deep into his throat, he felt Alex shift. Steve squeezed Alex's sac and increased pressure on the head harder and harder. Alex jerked and came in a rush that had Steve swallowing fast and stroking for more. Muttering Steve's name, Alex panted and pulled Steve by the hair up to kiss his mouth.
Careful of the arm, Steve still couldn't resist pressing chest to chest with Alex. Rubbing their cocks together, Steve took his time getting to his own release. Losing himself in the feel and scent of Alex, Steve had never been so satisfied without getting off. Steve let his hard cock drag over Alex as he took his time.
Suddenly, Alex's left hand reached between them and pulled Steve's cock free of his boxers. "Kneel." Alex tugged gently to get Steve where he wanted.
Steve knelt and moved as close as he could, his hands bracing on the headboard. Reaching into the nightstand drawer, Alex produced lube and squirted it along Steve's cock. The guy was full of secrets, and Steve wanted to know them all.
The southpaw jerked Steve's cock, and it was the most amazing feeling Steve ever had. Looking down at his best friend, he felt accepted, safe, and wanted. When Alex teased and tugged at his balls, Steve thrust like a first timer. Gripping the headboard, he relaxed and let Alex have his way.
"Monday after practice, I'm sucking you off," Alex said.
Steve smiled. "That'll make it hard to keep it down in the shower."
"Before the shower." Alex worked the tip of Steve's cock, and he was gone. Steve came with no control or finesse on his best friend's chest.
The release in his dream and his body startled Steve out of the erotic haze and back to reality. He was in his car.
Alex had never kissed him, jerked him off, or sucked him once in high school. But just like high school, Steve had come in his pants because of his best friend. Lately, every night, he woke with a wet dream about Alex. He needed Alex's professional help to get past this sex addiction, but first Steve needed to clean himself up.