Suber: The Uber of Sex (Queer Erotica Short Stories)

Part 21: Max

Pulling his tie loose around his neck, Max trudged towards the armchair just inside the entrance to his apartment. He dipped down just before his computer bag dropped from his shoulder, keeping it from dropping to the wood floor. With a gusting sigh, he collapsed with relief into the chair.

Tipping his head back and closing his eyes, he tried to pull the tie over his head. Hissing, a pain in the side of his chest made him stop. With one hand holding the half-healed incision scars nearly under his arms, he tried to remove the tie more gingerly. It had been weeks and moving his arms too quickly still made the surgery scars hurt. The pain had improved, but the long hours at the office seemed to be making it worse again.

The investment firm was exhausting. Since he started, he seemed to work, come home, watch Netflix, go to bed, and start all over again. On the weekends, he barely had time to catch his breath; he slept in, watched more Netflix, and usually still worked a few hours to catch up. The pay was good—his posh apartment was a testament to that—but what was it really worth when he didn't have time to enjoy it?

More and more, a sullen thought pulled at the edge of his exhausted mind: He had always dreamed of moving to a new city, becoming the man he always knew he was—powerful, confident, successful, certain—and he had nearly done it... so why wasn't he happy?

Peeling his office clothes carefully off, Max dropped them on the back of the sofa. The bedroom was only a few steps away, but he was so tired. It was only Wednesday, but he already felt tired in his bones. Clicking on The Great British Baking Show, the episodes played but he barely saw them. He felt numb, thankful just to have no thoughts, no stress, no boss, no emails, if even for a few hours.

His phone vibrated. Max growled a sigh. It was eight o' clock, but somehow his boss still felt it necessary to email him. He pulled out his phone.

It wasn't an email, but a single Instagram message from Ashley, one of Max's few friends from his hometown.

Sooo... this? Whaaat the whaaaaaat?!

Clicking the notification, Instagram opened. At first, Max suspected his friend from back home had been hacked. But, she sent him a post from another account. He clicked it.

A thin, almost naked man with ribbons of muscle and bone took a complicate pose against a pale magenta wall between to fig trees. He balanced on his shoulders, his toes reaching up towards the ceiling. He wore only bikini briefs, a bizarre pair with an intricate gold S on black fabric.

Despite his exhaustion, Max smiled. "What is this, super dick?" Then, he saw the account handle; TheRealBigKeith. Max hadn't seen Keith Vessy in over 10 years, and didn't at first realize it was him. He looked different. And Max knew him intimately. Condescending and painfully arrogant, yet somehow terribly fragile, Keith was a great example of everything Max didn't want to be in a man.

Why would Ashley send him Keith's post?

Max's better judgment told him to click away from the post. But he didn't. His gaze drifted to the first line of the post;

I'm super flexible. Guess what else I can do.

Rolling his eyes, Max clicked the post and opened it.

You want to find out? Too fucking bad. I don't give it away for free. But if you want some of this sweet ass, download Suber. You think your husband fucks you good? You haven't seen nothing yet. Click the link in my bio and search for Keith.

Keith looked different, but hadn't changed. Clicking on his profile, Max sighed again. With over 30,000 followers, he was also some kind of influencer now. Judging by his parade of risque photos, most of them adorned with some piece of small, branded underwear, Max guessed he was in some kind of paid advertising relationship with them. But what the hell was Suber?

He could've clicked the link in Keith's bio, but refused to give him any credit or payment, no matter how small. Instead, he looked in the app store. It only took moments to find the same iconic S that emblazoned Keith's underwear.

What would you ask for if you never had to feel guilty?

Max took in a breath and held it. Looking at it, reading through the description, Max realized he did recognize it. It wasn't the only app for sex, but it was the most popular. But Keith was on it. It was probably full of assholes.

Then again. Though he offered very little else, Keith was a spectacular lay. And the only guy from Max's hometown who wasn't terrified by anything other than vanilla sex.

The next episode of the The Great British Baking Show started. It was familiar. He'd seen this episode already.

Biting his lip, Max sifted past a million reasons not to download Suber.

Then he clicked it.

....

Author's Note

You don't need a relationship, or even sex, to be happy! Hopefully that's been clear by now. But, doing nothing but work and Netflix isn't very fulfilling either. Max isn't quite sure what it is at this point, but he realizes that something is missing in his life. (He's not the first one to turn to sex first lol)

This is the first of two new requests I've received! I'm so glad that you all are enjoying the stories! It makes me so happy. Stay tuned for the continuation of Max's tryst :)

Also I want to apologize sincerely to anyone named TheRealBigKeith on Instagram! Tbh I didn't look and just sort of pulled it out. This isn't a reference to any person, living or dead! Any reference is purely coincidental.   

See you next week!