Stephen Ch. 02

Thanks again to Krista and Melanie.

***

I woke up with the feeling of being watched, and when I opened my eyes I saw why. There had been some moving around during the night, people getting up to use the bathroom or just changing positions or whatever, and as I awoke both of the girls were on my right side, Liz half on top of me. Ruth was looking over Liz's shoulder. When they realized I was awake, Ruth made a shushing motion and pointed to my left.

I was groggy enough that it took me a second to realize why. Stephen was on my left shoulder, curled up against me with an arm thrown over my chest and neck. One of his legs was drawn up and over mine, and his cock, clearly visible, was rock hard. I grinned at the girls. Never yet met a girl who doesn't love to see the homoerotic stuff between guys.

We bought the girls breakfast and drove 'em home to the apartment they shared. There was a lot of reluctance in their goodbyes, and a lot of kissing and gentle touching. I saw some of it in Stephen, too, and talked to him a bit as we packed up our room.

"It's cool that you got their numbers, partner, but I'd leave it be unless we come back through town."

"Why? They were awesome."

"Yeah, they were. Awesome to the tenth degree. They were also engaged, one of 'em, and the other one committed to a boyfriend. 'Committed' being a relative term, obviously. And they were trying to size us up financially at breakfast this morning, did you catch that? Looking for a ticket out of town."

"Yeah, but they were really into us. I know they'd leave their guys for us."

"Maybe they would. You gonna move one of them into your place? Trust her to stay faithful when you're on the road like this? Or to still be as into you when she sees that you put your pants on one leg at a time, and hate to take out the garbage, and fart, and get grumpy when she wants to have her mom visit? Or when you have a night where you don't blow her pussy up for four hours?"

He was quiet for a few minutes, long enough to throw the last of our gear in the truck and head for the highway. Finally he laughed.

"I guess I just want to do that again. That was the best night of my life. Theirs, too, they both said so."

"Yeah, I heard. Here's hoping it's not the best night of their lives going forward, too. You want to do it again, do it again. Just not with them, or not with them with an idea that you're keeping one of 'em. Do it with your girlfriend if you guys get back together. I guarantee she'll think long and hard before she goes to her mom again. And if you don't get back with her, do it with whoever you date next."

"What," he laughed, "have a foursome?"

"Think that was the only thing that made last night fun? No, I mean tear her shit up yourself, and do it with last night's laughter and joy and... what, ferocity? Eat her pussy like you learned last night, then fuck the hell out of her, make out with her, lather, rinse, repeat. You were telling me your girl won't suck your cock.... you eat her like you did those girls and she will. Beat her pussy up like you did last night and she'll do anything you want, and with a smile on her face."

He nodded thoughtfully and was quiet for a few minutes.

"I guess it just seems weird to have a night like that and then just leave," he finally said.

"Yeah, well, we'll just have to have more nights like that, won't we?" I grinned at him. "Besides, look at it this way. We're always gonna be studs to those two girls. We're the guys their men will be compared to for the rest of their lives. And we'll never lose it, never become just some guys they knew. We're cowboys, man. We blew into town, rode 'em hard and put 'em away wet, tipped our hats, and rode into the sunset. Thirty years from now we'll still be cowboys, still be the guys they tell their friends about and the guys they think of when they have their hands in their panties after hubby falls asleep before they finish."

"That's pretty cool," he said after a minute. He laughed. "I've never been that before. Mostly the girls I date hate me when I'm gone."

I wasn't sure what to say to that, so I didn't say anything. Another few minutes passed.

"I thought Liz was gonna die when you fucked her ass," he finally said. "She was going nuts. That was the hardest she came all night."

"Yeah, it's an intense experience. It's not always like that, but I've never known someone not to love it. Quite frequently it's the most intense sex they've ever had. Male or female. Obviously I have no basis of comparison, but they say it's more intense for us because of course we've got our prostate back there. I know I cum hard when there's ass play involved."

"Wait- you've..."

"Yeah," I laughed. "Plenty of times. You're not the first guy I've played with, and my female ex liked to get out the toys and swap roles sometimes. Like I said, it's intense. Some guys can cum just from the butt-sex. Unfortunately I'm only rarely one of them, but it's still a great feeling."

I could feel the shocked vibe of his silence.

"Dude, sex is fun," I said. "If I didn't look at it with an open mind and wasn't willing to be wild and try new stuff, last night would never have happened. Or would have been a twenty-minute porn scene if it did. Right?"

"Yeah, I guess so," he said, and fell silent for a few minutes.

"Look, Stephen," I finally said, "I told you you'd never have to worry about any judgment from me about anything we get up to. I hope that's a two-way street. My open mind and the things it leads me to try are what opened the door to last night. You follow?"

"Yeah." He paused, then continued with a grin. "Yeah. Sorry, seme. I'm not used to talking about stuff like that. Guys don't admit to having things up their asses. You're kind of different."

"Fair to say," I said and smiled at him. "You'd be surprised, though. Ask Shawn about butt sex sometime. He's had plenty of stuff up his ass. And he's never been with a girl he didn't turn into an anal queen. His fiancee cums easier from the back than the front."

"Damn." He laughed. "What about you, do you turn girls into anal queens?"

"Nah, man. I turn girls and ukes into size queens."

"Shut up! Fag," he laughed. "That thing is fucking huge, though. It's no wonder the girls went nuts on it."

I grinned to myself as we rolled on.

That evening the routine returned to the play between us. I realized as we had dinner that it was Sunday and I hadn't seen the paper, so I grabbed one and brought it back to the room.

This room had a nice chair and an ottoman. After my shower I plunked down there in my boxers, tossed the paper on the bed beside me, and started working my way through it.

I could see that Stephen wanted some attention. He changed into the shorts and t-shirt he wore as pajamas then kept looking over at me as he flipped channels, seemingly unable to hold still on his bed. Finally he got up and came over by me.

"Let me get the funnies," he said, reaching for my paper.

"When I'm done with 'em. Keep your meat hooks off my paper. I'm done with that stack, take something from there."

"I want the funnies!" He made a grab and I fought him off, the bit of physical play clearly what he was after. I got a hold of him and dragged him down into my lap, both his arms pinned to his sides. We were both laughing.

"Give up?" I said.

"No!"

His laugh almost turned into a shriek as I tickled his ribs.

"Share, share!" he laughed. "We'll share them!"

"Ask me nice. Say 'I'm sorry I tried to steal your funnies. Please, seme, can we share them? I'll give you a back rub.'"

"Shut up! Aagh!" The tickling and wrestling went on for another minute.

"Okay, okay," he finally laughed, breathless.

"Say it."

"Please, seme, can we share your funnies? I'll give you a back rub."

"Okay, baby. We can share them." He rolled his eyes at the baby, but laughed. We sat giggling at the funnies for a while, then shared the sports pages. He'd been in my lap more than half an hour by the time we finished and I could see him looking for a reason to stay. I leaned over and grabbed the remote from where he'd dropped it on the bed.

"Did you want this? I'm gonna read for a while." I kept my left arm around him as I grabbed my book, making it clear by body language that I wasn't pushing him to move. So he didn't.

We passed what was left of the evening right there in the chair. I read, he watched the tube, we chatted, I occasionally pinched his thigh or snuck in a tickle. All in all, rather pleasant.

Gradually he started to slide lower in my lap until finally his head was resting half on my shoulder and half on the chair. After a while I realized he'd fallen asleep. Safe to say he felt comfortable with me. I sat there until my legs were going to sleep, then gently picked him up and crawled into bed.

It was early, but I was tired from the last night's activities and so, it seemed, was he, so I just clicked off the light and pulled the covers over us, laying face to face with his head on my right arm.

There was no way he'd slept through me picking him up, putting him in bed, turning off the light and the TV, and settling in with my arm under his head, but he pretended to have. So he wanted to be in my bed. I smiled, brushed a lock of hair out of his face, and shut my eyes.

Didn't sleep through the night, though. I woke up sometime in the small hours to his lips very delicately brushing mine. I lay still for a moment, unsure if I was actually awake, and he did it again. Very, very soft. This time I returned it, gently, not pressing like I had last time, just softly kissing as though I wasn't really awake. As my awareness grew I felt his hand on my chest, once again directly over my heart, and his body much closer to mine than it had been when we laid down.

The kissing went on for maybe ten minutes, a little stronger than it had started but still very soft. Almost no tongue, just a flickering touch here and there, mostly just lips sliding tenderly against lips. Finally I moved, letting my left arm slide around his waist. His body was pressed right up against me now, so close that my arm draped over him as opposed to just my hand reaching him.

He stopped the kissing when I moved, freezing for a long moment before slowly letting his head settle more firmly back onto my arm. The freezing and the fact that he'd been holding his head up a bit confirmed, if I'd needed it, that he was wide awake through the whole thing.

It was the first time he'd initiated sexual or romantic contact, and I didn't miss the significance.

We were in the same position when the alarm went off. Bodies pressed against each other, his face so close to mine that I could bend my elbow without hitting his head. I gave him a squeeze with the arm still draped over him and ran my hand over his back a little.

"Morning, sunshine," I said with a smile. He smiled back, which I felt more than saw. His face was so close I couldn't see his mouth.

"Too early," he murmured.

"It's Monday. Get your ass in the shower, we've gotta work. You're already on my bad side, you fell asleep without giving me my back rub last night."

"Hit the snooze." He wasn't even pretending he was uncomfortable in our embrace. The hand that had been on my chest had slipped down, now he slid it around my ribs and drew himself closer.

"Get up now and we can have breakfast," I said. "Keep snoozing and we're on coffee and donuts until lunch."

"Yeah, right." His eyes smiled. "You'd stop for breakfast in a forest fire. You live for your stomach."

"No, I live for my cock. Which, you may have noticed, has woken up angry this morning. Tell you what, we can stay in bed all day, but you're gonna find out all you ever wanted to know about anal sex."

That did it. A threat he wasn't quite sure I wouldn't keep. He rolled over and sat up, groaning, and on that note our day started.

"Tell me staying in bed all day doesn't sound good, though," he said.

"Sure. One thing we didn't get much of this weekend was rest."

"For real."

"Tell you what, we can have a nice, mellow Sunday this week. Lay in some food before hand, spend all day in bed reading the paper and screwing around," I said.

"Sounds nice." I don't know if he got the single entendre or not, but he didn't remark on it.

"Then it's a date. All day Sunday, right here. Don't let me forget we need, like, some baby oil or something. You owe me a massage."

"Oh, now it's a massage? What's it gonna be by this weekend, a handjob?"

"Interest, babe. The vig is a bitch."

He laughed and headed for the shower. The day passed as Mondays do, seeming far longer than the ten-ish hours we worked. On the way back into town I saw something that had escaped both our notice in the early morning grey.

"Hey, check it out," I said. "They've got a drive-in. Don't see those much anymore."

"I've never been. We should go, this thing would be chill to see a flick in."

"We had one a town over from us until about eighty-seven. We should definitely go. Friday night? We can flash back to my high school days, sit in the backseat and neck."

"Shut up! Fag. What's playing, can you see?" He was peering at the theater, trying to find the marquee.

"Doesn't matter, you're not gonna see five minutes of it. Somebody's gonna have to tap on the window to let us know it's over."

"Shut up!"

"Windows all fogged up, you tryin' to yank your clothes back on while I get rid of the usher..."

"Shut up!" He was laughing as hard as I was.

We shared a bed each night that week, moving from the 'happenstance' of Sunday night toward more open expectation. Monday night he fell asleep on my bed reading a magazine, Tuesday night I fell asleep watching TV on his, Wednesday he assaulted me for some physical play and never left. And each night I woke up being kissed, each night's kisses bolder than the night before. None of them reached the level of the first one we'd shared, but by Wednesday there was some tongue involved and it went on for a good quarter of an hour.

Thursday was a late day at work, by the time we ate and got to the room we were both beat. When I came out of the shower he was on my bed in shorts and t-shirt, idly flipping through that week's Sports Illustrated.

"Why don't you strip down, there, uke, skin's nicer to feel than worn-out cotton," I said. He looked at me for a second. It was the first time either of us had openly acknowledged that we expected to share a bed. I was tired, and aware that things had been moving slowly because our work weeks were brutal and I didn't have the energy for serious seduction.

Finally he pulled the t-shirt over his head and stopped, looking at me again.

"All the way?" He sounded a bit nervous.

"Yeah, all the way. It's up to you, but I'm sleeping naked tonight. I keep waking up with these boxers all twisted around me."

He stood up and for a second I thought he was moving over to his bed, but he pulled off the shorts and started back onto mine.

"Hang on," I said. I crawled under the covers and lifted them for him. This was another part of the charade, normally whoever was the 'visitor' fell asleep on top of the blankets and ended up one degree or another of covered by the 'home' side. Climbing in and holding up the covers was invitation and acknowledgment. He hesitated, but only a second, then slid in beside me close enough for me to put an arm around him as I read.

It wasn't long before I was yawning mightily.

"Okay," I said with a laugh as the last in a series of yawns passed. "Stick a fork in me, I'm done. You want the light on, or are you just watching the tube?"

"You can turn it off." He aced the TV and slid down as I did, settling into the crook of my arm with his back to me so we were spooning.

My cock reacted to the naked body in my arms, swelling to erection before either of us had a chance to fall asleep. I grinned as it slid up his leg until it was stopped by the curve of his ass. He tensed up a little but didn't move.

"See? I told you skin against skin feels better," I said. My left arm was over him, I slid it comfortingly over his chest. He laughed quietly.

"Fag."

"That's my uke hook. Keeps you secured to the bed. Got one arm over you, one arm under your neck, now the hook swings up and you're secured, no escape."

"Uh-oh," he laughed. "What happens now?"

"Well, you saw what happened to Liz when I had her like this."

"Shut up!" Still laughing.

"You're just lucky I'm too tired to do you justice tonight."

"Shut up, fag!" He was quiet for a second. "Man, I'm too tired to have justice done to me. I'm sore as fuck."

"You think you're sore now, little uke..." I squeezed him and stroked his chest again.

"Seriously," I said before he could give with the inevitable shut up, fag, "I think we should amend the plan for Sunday to allow for time in the fuck-tub. Work out these kinks."

The bathroom had a two-person jacuzzi tub that neither of us had found time to use. He'd gotten a kick out of my dubbing it the 'fuck-tub,' but what else do you call it? It's not like a lot of people are going to cheap motels in the middle of nowhere for physical therapy.

"Sounds nice," he said, already half asleep.

Once again, I woke up to kisses. My patience for the slow, teasing quality of our explorations was a bit frayed by my fatigue, so this time I responded with a bit more fervor. I kissed him back, hard, my tongue probing, and we quickly moved past just kissing and into making out. I kissed along his jaw line and neck before returning to his hot mouth, drew his hips up to mine, and let my hand wander over his body.

His hips started moving, his cock rubbing against my hip at first. Gradually the angle of his movements changed until it found mine, sliding across it tentatively. I slid my hand to his hip and encouraged him by guiding his movements a bit, and he was soon rubbing his cock across mine with a purpose.

It didn't take him long. Maybe ten minutes of increasingly passionate kissing and touching passed from when he started moving his hips to when he came, covering both our bellies with hot, sticky fluid.

He tensed up briefly as I kept kissing him, but after a moment he relaxed and returned the kisses with a sigh. We fell asleep still sticky.

We lay face to face for a moment when the alarm went off. His eyes looked nervous.

You're not hoping I slept through that last night, are you, uke? You've gotta be kidding.

I kissed him good morning, and he confirmed that he was, in fact, hoping I'd slept through the night's make out session. He pulled back and jumped up, started to say something, then practically ran to get in the shower. I rolled on my back and lay looking at the ceiling for a second.

"Nah," I said aloud.

He was lathering his head when I stepped into the shower stall.

"Dude, what're you doing?" His tension was obvious, he was almost scared. I grinned at him.

"My belly's all sticky, I need to clean off," I said.

"Well, just give me a minute and I'll be done."

"Oh, what, now we're tense?" I laughed a little and stepped up very close to him to get at the water. He relaxed a little and brought his hands up to finish shampooing, but there was still some tension there. Grinning, I grabbed his wrists and gently pushed them against the wall on either side of his head. I bent my face very close to his, almost close enough to kiss, but he ducked his head a little so I couldn't catch his lips.

"Okay, little uke," I said. "But the time is coming when we won't be pretending we don't like the midnight kisses."

Our semi-erect cocks touched and he gasped, his body jerking like he'd been shocked. His head came up, mouth open, and I took it as invitation. The kiss I gave him was hot and open-mouthed and he returned it with heat of his own within seconds. We made out hard, moving against each other, and when I let go of his wrists his arms went around my neck. Our tongues danced fiercely. He groaned against my mouth, high-pitched and almost desperate. By the time we broke the kiss he seemed to be trying to climb me, one of his legs up around my thigh and the arms around my neck pulling hard.