We had a messy broke up, two years ago.

It started off with something so simple and ordinary, just the tiniest fault, I couldn't even remember what the mistake is. But then the argument grew, until we realised it, it was an established fight and we weren't talking anymore.

The silence was broke two weeks later, where there was no communication for the entire time, not even a single text.
All he said was, "I can't do this anymore."  And Blaine was gone.

I cried for weeks, and for months I couldn't sleep. The night haunted me, like it did after my mother died when I was eight, even staring at the ceiling at complete silence, taunted me.

That was when I started my late night sessions of fondling myself.

Orgasm made me tired, I fell almost immediately asleep afterwards every time.

It would always be him, in my imagination. His touch, his breath, his desire; even he was gone, I could still feel it, my body remembered it as clearly as it was yesterday.
But it all started to fade.

I don't know why, it was horrifying, for me not to be able to recall his voice, his laughter, his temperature. My memory of him was the only thing I could cling on.
He didn't call, for the past two years, I never dared to change our home number, and will always have the cellphone charged, in case he decided to call.

But Blaine never did.

The distant memories was insufficient for me to reach my well-needed climax.
After two sleepless nights, with huge shadows under my eyes, spacing out during work, I decided to turn to the aid of pornography. Fuck those mothers of the boys, I needed my sleep.

I clicked on of the sites Google had showed up, it was full of videos and pictures and genres. Why, I never knew this world is full of such variety.

Not knowing where to start, clicking on the best rated would be my safest bet. Watching porn doesn't mean I'm okay with weirdos jacking themselves off or raping another person, that's just pathetic.

Streaming took a while, killing my patience. But it was worth the wait, so, so worthy.

There weren't weird music playing in the background, but only the faintest pant of the man, soft and arousing. He was tanned, with the most satisfying abs I had seen, right after Blaine's. Not to mention the fact that his cock was beautiful, in my opinion. Everything of this man had a resemblance to Blaine, the fact that he could be compared to Blaine, was good enough for me.

So I pawed my own hardened cock, stroking the silky surface of my pajamas. My fingers traced the outline of the bulge, let out a moan of pleasure as I watch the video playing, the finger of the tanned hands teasing the man's own erection.

Then the man was stroking the base of his arousal, I slipped my hands into my pants, cupping my balls, touching my sensitive spot.

There was something different about this man, this absolutely gorgeous and lean man, that attracts me. They didn't even show his face, but his body, made me hunger for more.

I mimicked the man's movement as he stroke his length, with whimpers and moans. I could feel the heat building up, my toes curled, and I knew I would come, so hard, so, so hard, that I would cry.
It haven't had this type of extremity since the fight. I wondered, whether we would have a more heated intimacy than this, if Blaine and I made up that day. 

And the thought of it, gave me an image of us, having the hottest sex on the surface of the earth on our king sized bed, tipped me over.

I fell apart, completely, for the first time in two years, calling his name.

When I finally came down from the climax, with half-lidded eyes, I returned my gaze to the frozen video. It stopped at the scene with the face of the man, smiling like an angel.

It's Blaine.
The horror of it was overwhelming, I mean, what was he doing there? But at the same time, it was undeniably hot and arousing.

My eyes fluttered for a second, and was shut. I drifted to unconsciousness, after the thought of finding out where Blaine is, and meeting up with him. Hook up or make up, it doesn't really matter.