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52 Panhead - 11. Chapter 11

Evan's gaze had dropped to the pouch of the jock and his eyes followed my every move. I started to do a slow roll with my hips, grinding into the air in front of his face. He was wearing baggy shorts and his cock started to tent the front of them, until he shoved his hand in his pants and straightened his dick up his belly. I spread my feet a little further apart and bent my knees so that the big muscles in my thighs tensed and flexed as I swayed.

It wasn't long before Evan was entranced as I ran my hands all over my body, pinching my nipples, stroking the insides of my legs and my stomach, running them around to rub my ass. He rubbed his dick through his shorts, pushing the heel of his hand down into his nuts, then back up. I squeezed my cock several times, until the ooze of pre-cum began to darken the fabric of the jock.

Still doing my little dance, I stepped up onto the sofa, one foot on either side of Evan, my knees still bent. Thanks to all those squats at the gym, I didn't even feel it. That put my package three inches from Evan's face and he finally did something about it, leaning into me with a groan to lightly bite his way up my dick. He chewed on me until the jock was wet with his spit and my juice. He had his own cock out now, pumping it slowly as he groped between my legs with his other hand, pressing a finger against my hole, but not entering me.

When he finally pulled my boner out one side of the pouch, I slowly sank down onto his lap so that our cocks were side by side. I was purple by then, ready to blow, and judging by the frown of concentration on his face, Evan wasn't far behind. I wrapped my hands around both of us and leaned over to drool a gob of spit into my grip; he flung his head back against the cushion and gripped my thighs with iron fingers as I began to stroke. I came first, my cock pulsing in my fists, pressing rhythmically against Evan's rock hard dick until he arched back, straining into my hands and spewing cum all over us. His teeth were clenched tightly, making the cords in his neck stand out, and the noises he made didn’t sound quite human.

A minute or so later, he opened his eyes, gradually focusing on me. I was still sitting on his lap, our two deflating dicks in one hand with his cum and mine trickling down my chest, following the little valley between my abs. He looked me over slowly, his eyes sort of shell-shocked.

I looked at him with a smile. "I used to be a go-go dancer. Could ya tell?"

He smiled too, shaking his head at me. "Bullshit,” he said, his voice hoarse. “But, yeah - that was fuckin' hot."

He ran a fingertip through the mess on my belly, stirring up my thick globs with his thinner trails until you couldn't tell whose was whose. I kissed him then, softly, sweetly, trying to say with the kiss whatever I might have missed with the floor show. He responded in kind, holding the side of my face gently in his palm, his thumb caressing my temple. It healed the rift between us, that kiss, leaving us smiling into each other's eyes, in tune once more.

I finally climbed off him, and we showered before I had to leave. We couldn't keep our hands to ourselves; it was like we needed to make up for the few hours of the day when we'd been at odds. All the emotions of the weekend rolled around in my head as I stuffed my clothes in my bag. We didn't talk; Evan just sat on the bed and watched me, smiling when our eyes met. At the front door, we held each other for a long time, and just before I let go of him, I whispered, "I love you."

When he just nodded against my neck, I pulled back to look him in the face. We stared at each other for several seconds. He held my eyes, gazing steadily back at me, and after a long moment, I picked up my bag and left.

By the time I got home Sunday evening, I’d sunk into an odd mood. I'd never been much for contemplating my navel, but the process of falling in love, learning to cope with all the emotions, both his and mine, had been a soul-searching experience. When I first met Evan, I’d been so overwhelmed by my physical response to him that the emotional stuff had taken a back seat.

Now that we'd been together for a while, I wasn't quite as desperate to rip his clothes off the minute he got in the door. Our sex life was excellent - and frequent enough to keep me satisfied and get my mind off my dick a little.

I loved Evan. I'd gone from being afraid of those strong emotions to being thankful that I was able to feel them. It alleviated some of the fears I'd had about being able to really fall in love, fully and unreservedly.

But…

I'd told him I loved him for the first time in early July, two months ago. I'd said it several times since, and Maggie claimed he loved me.

But…

Maybe I never should have said it to him. Saying it like I did - knowing I wasn't going to get the same response - was a two-edged sword. I wanted him to know how I felt about him; I thought it might ease him into it - to know that I was already there, that he wouldn't have to be the one to take that first big step. But maybe it was putting too much pressure on him. Oh, God…..

I wandered restlessly around the house, unable to sit still. Chewy paced along behind me, whining softly now and then, but I barely heard him. I couldn't go on like this much longer. There was no way I'd ask Evan if he loved me, but if he didn't say it pretty soon…

I finally grabbed Chew's leash and headed out the door. We walked slowly - at least I did; Chewy dashed around like always, as if every single smell had changed since the last time we'd walked this route.

Fuck - maybe it had, for all I knew.

The mood stayed with me all week, evident enough that Evan asked me about it Wednesday night on the phone. "You all right? You been kinda quiet the past couple days."

For a second, I debated saying something to him, but then replied with, "No, I'm ok, just sorta… down. I don't know. Don't worry about it."

We said goodnight a few minutes later. I didn't tell him I loved him, I just said goodbye and set the phone carefully on the table instead of throwing across the room like I wanted to.

Evan came up the following Friday. After I let him in the door, I followed him into the bedroom, where he set down his bag and hung a shirt in my closet. When he turned to me, we looked at each other for a moment. Last weekend had ended well, but we hadn’t seen each other in five days, and I'd been weird on the phone. I guess we were both a little unsure.

He looked so good to me. He was wearing baggy cargo shorts that barely hung on his hips, and an old Foreigner t-shirt that had flashed his flat belly as he reached up to hang the shirt. His baseball cap was turned around backwards, and he looked a lot like the college boys I used to hustle not so long ago. We stood there and eyed one another until he smiled at me; then we both started walking at the same time, meeting at the foot of the bed in a hard embrace. His arms banded around me, and the curves and angles of his body met mine in all the right places.

God, I couldn't let this go, not yet. Not just yet.

Since he was a couple inches taller than me, my face always ended up in his neck. The familiar smell of him rolled through me, and I hung on tight for a minute, pushing the ache back down to where I could keep a grip on it. We kissed for a while, getting back into the groove of being together, but we were both starving, so we put sex on hold and headed for the grill. Two big steaks and baked potatoes later, we were too full.

Never happy.

I think we were both feeling the effects of my introduction to Patterson cause we spent the whole weekend together and never talked about anything more important than what we should eat next. We took a hike on Saturday, choosing a wilderness trail that wound along the river. The woods were quiet and heavy in late summer, thick and lush, and we never saw another soul the entire day. We skinny dipped in a calm pool created by some boulders, and then ate the lunch I’d packed.

That night we grilled chicken for supper and stayed out on the deck until late, both of us crammed into a lounge chair. Evan was half on top of me with Chewy wedged in around our legs, raising reproachful brown eyes to me whenever we moved and he had to rearrange himself. I don’t know why we didn’t just go inside to the couch, but the night was clear and warm, so we stayed out there. We kissed a little, but mostly we just held each other.

I stared up at the night sky, deep and infinite, and felt very small and a little lost. It would have been one of those too-many-beers nights, except for the reality of Evan’s body next to mine. The rise and fall of his ribs against my side, the weight of his leg across mine, his warm, moist breath on my neck, all reminded me that there was someone else to consider now. Every significant decision I made from here on out would be made with a thought as to how it might affect Evan.

Heavy stuff. I sighed.

Sunday we slept in until Chewy couldn’t wait any longer. I let him out while Evan pissed and brushed, then I did the same and climbed back into bed. I’m always totally horned up in the morning, and Evan was almost as bad, so unless we were pressed for time, we fooled around before we did much else.

This morning, Evan climbed onto me on all fours, kissing me briefly before sitting back on his knees, turning, and swinging a leg over my chest. I shoved a pillow behind my head just as his nuts draped across my forehead and the head of his cock brushed my lips. Eyes closed, mouth open, I nuzzled up into the soft, wrinkled skin of his sack, nudging his balls aside with my nose until my face was buried in the earthy warmth between his legs. One nut rested in each of my eye sockets, and I could barely breathe. He stopped what he was doing when he noticed I wasn’t moving.

“You fall asleep?”

Instead of replying, I took a deep breath and blew a big raspberry against the underside of his dick. He leaped off me with a howl, grabbing himself and swatting at me. I was laughing so hard I could barely protect myself and he clouted me a good one on the side of the head. By the time I quit laughing and recovered enough to straighten up and look around, Evan was sitting up against a pile of pillows, steadily stroking his cock with one hand and tweaking a nipple with the other. When I reached for him, he shoved me away with his knee.

“Forget it - I’ll do it myself. It’s safer.” He glanced at me then. “You goofy fucker.”

I watched him for a second, then settled into the pillows shoulder to shoulder with him and started doing the same thing. He ignored me for a couple minutes, but soon he was watching me work my cock, just like I was watching him. We kept our hands to ourselves, and it was kinda like being a kid again, watching the other guys to see how they did it. Two ball drainers later we were in the shower.

It was a lazy day. We ate a late breakfast out, lingering at a sidewalk table with the Sunday paper, people-watching, making silly comments to each other about the passers-by. By mid afternoon we were on the couch, half naked, half asleep, the TV down low.

"We never got to do this kind of stuff." Evan's voice rumbled in the ear I had pressed to his chest, so I sat up a little to hear him better. "Luke and me, I mean. Even though my parents were pretty cool with it, we never did anything in front of them except hug now and then. I love just bein' with you, just hangin' like this."

I mumbled agreement and lay back down, too comfortable and out of it to keep up my side of the conversation, but it didn't matter cause Evan was on a talking jag.

"This must be what it's like when you get real old. You can't do anything except hold each other and talk. Maybe jerk off together if you aren't too old. When does your dick quit working, I wonder?" I raised my head to look at him. "What?" he said. "Don't you wonder how long it'll be till you can't beat off anymore? God, I do. That'll be awful."

"No, it won't," I snorted. "You'll be too senile to remember you have a dick."

He stared at me, apalled. "Jesus."

I shook my head and burrowed back into the warmth of his body. "No more double cappuccinos for you."

I went down to Patterson the next Friday. I was feeling good about us after last weekend, so I was ready to brave another couple days of Rafael and Kenny. I got in late, so we just made out for a while and went to sleep. The next morning we started the day the way every day should be started - hot, sweaty sex followed by a hot, soapy shower. Over breakfast (French toast and sausage), he said the local Harley shop was having a poker run, so we decided to go out and look at all the bikes and bikers before everyone took off.

The day was clear and sunny, and the Harley boys turned out in record numbers - there must have been 300 bikes in the big lot. We wandered around admiring the fancy paint jobs and all the biker butts in jeans and leathers, catching up with Rafael and Kenny about halfway through. Kenny said 'hey,' and I got a nod from Rafael - about what I expected.

As they went along, Rafael frequently had a hand on Kenny’s shoulder or the back of his neck, leaning down to talk to him now and then. Kenny squeezed the back of Raf's thigh occasionally to get his attention. Their relationship intrigued me, and as I watched them, I found myself liking Rafael a little more, mostly because of the way he was with Kenny. Now and then some biker would take a second look at them, either from having caught a look at the bad side of Raf's face, or figuring maybe they were queer from all the touching they did. Raf just stared them down until they looked away, and then went back to talking to Kenny.

We stood around while the bikes roared off down the two-lane blacktop in front of the shop. The throb of all those Big Twins as they went past made me think of parades when I was a kid, and the way I could feel the thump of the drums in my chest. By then it was early afternoon and time to eat again, so the four of us went to a Mexican place out by the river that had thin chips and medium-hot table salsa, just the way I like it.

I kept my mouth shut most of the time, figuring Rafael would get used to me quicker if we weren't in each other's face all the time. Kenny and Evan were hotly debating the relative merits of the Packers and the Colts now that football season was just around the corner. I'm a Favre fan myself, but I kept out of it. When I went over to the salsa bar, Raf followed along, standing so that his good side was facing me, something I figured he did without even thinking after all these years.

"So, you guys get things figured out yet?"

I glanced at him with a snort of exasperation. "Jesus, what is it with you, Raf? You desperate to get him married off?"

His jaw tightened, and his neck darkened as he flushed. He sighed and began to fill up little salsa containers as he spoke, one after another. “No. I just… I need to know you’re not just fuckin’ with him.”

He glanced up at me, and for the first time I could see compassion in his face, instead of the defensive anger he'd shown me the previous times we'd been around each other. I risked giving his shoulder a quick squeeze.

"I told you before I’m serious about him,” I assured him. “We're both working on the trust thing right now. It's been a lot of years, for both of us, but we're working on it, ok?" I tried a smile; he just nodded. "What the hell you gonna do with all those?" I asked, pointing to the little row of salsa cups he'd filled up. He blinked at them, and swept them into the trash, shaking his head at himself as he walked back to the table. Kenny glanced up.

"I thought you were gettin' more salsa!"

Rafael cut me a look, turned on his heel and headed back to the salsa bar. I didn’t say a word.

Evan and I went home shortly after that, stopping on the way for ice cream. Watching Evan eat an ice cream cone, his pink tongue lapping at the creamy white vanilla, was so fuckin' close to watchin' him lick my dick, that I practically couldn't concentrate enough to eat my own black cherry cone.

After dinner we hit the couch, but I couldn't get my mind off the ice cream, so I worked my way around until I was lying on the sofa with my feet in Evan's lap. He was caught up in a movie, rubbing my leg absently as he watched. I read patiently until it was over, but the minute the credits started rolling, I hit the remote. Evan turned to me with raised eyebrows, which went higher when I started shucking my pants.

"Do me like ice cream," I said, as my stiff prick waved at him.

"Like ice cream?" he laughed, and then eyed me for a second. "You mean like this?"

He leaned over and ran a dripping wet tongue up my cock. The slurpy noises he made drew long moans from me, and melted me back into the cushions. He kept at it until I arched up into the strong pull of his mouth, filling it up with my own version of creamy white stuff. As I headed home that Sunday night, I felt pretty good - not totally satisfied, but happier.

It was the first weekend of September, nine o’clock Saturday night, and there was a nip in the air as we walked slowly through the dark neighborhood while Chew sniffed every tree and bush. We’d been talking about Evan’s pro bono work with a law clinic in Patterson, but for the last block or so, we’d fallen silent. After a noisy truck went by, Evan squeezed my hand, took a deep breath, and spoke quietly into the cool night air.

“I love you, Jeff.”

It was so completely unexpected that I stopped dead in my tracks with my mouth hanging open. He stopped a step ahead, and then turned to face me, our clasped hands linking us across a couple feet of sidewalk.

Finally… finally…

“Oh, Evan...” My heart began to pound as if I’d just sprinted a mile, and a chill crawled up my back. “I love you, too.” I stared at him, searching his face. “Why now?”

He shrugged one shoulder, and looked off down the street. “I didn’t want to say it for the first time while we were making love. I wanted you to know that it wasn’t just my dick talkin’. And I didn’t want to say ‘I love you, too’ after you’d just said it to me.” He turned back to me and stepped closer, looking straight into my eyes. “I’m sorry it took me fuckin’ forever. I just needed to work through a lot of stuff.”

“It's ok, it’s ok.” I laughed in relief. “Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“One more time.”

His face softened, and for the very first time, I saw the quiet truth of it in his eyes, in the curve of his smile. It was almost the same expression he’d had for Luke in several of the pictures in his old bedroom at Maggie’s. “I love you, Jeff. God, how I love you.”

As he leaned in to kiss me, I closed my eyes and thought that he couldn’t have done it a better way. It meant everything to me for him to say it all by himself, because I knew that it had been so hard for him to get to this point. I lost myself in the sweet wetness of his mouth for a few minutes, and then we walked on home.

Evan loved me!

Just like they say in all the romance stories, I could barely feel the pavement under my sneakers. He was a little bashful with me as we were getting ready for bed, glancing at me and away before I could catch his eyes. Finally, I grabbed him around the back of the neck as he sidled past me, pulling him close.

"What's the matter?"

He shook his head slowly, smiling into my eyes. "Nothing's the matter. I haven't said that in ten years, and it's just… kind of amazing to feel it again."

As we were falling asleep that night, he said, “Thanks for being so patient. Each time you said it to me I believed it a little more.”

“You didn’t believe I meant it?” I couldn’t keep the quick anger out of my voice.

“No, no, I believed you meant it. I needed to be sure that I could mean it.” He put a fist to his chest. “I needed to be sure that I could really love someone again.” He rolled toward me. “I feel differently about you than I did about Luke, and I wasn’t sure what that meant. I didn’t know if it was less than what I’d felt for him, or just different.”

He cupped a hand to my face. “It’s actually more. I’m older now, and what I feel for you is deeper, more solid. Luke and I were so young, and everything was so perfect. With you, it's real life.” He paused. "Not that it isn't perfect, but… Fuck." He rolled away with a sigh of frustration. “Is this making any sense? You’re not sayin’ much.”

I pulled him back to me, sliding my leg up to hook over his hip. “Yeah, it makes a lotta sense. I wondered how long it'd be until you could tell me. Actually, for a while there, I wondered if you ever would.” I stretched and yawned. “Tell me one more time.”

He chuckled softly.

"I love you," he whispered into my mouth as he rolled onto me.

“I love you,” he said to my left nipple between flicks of his tongue.

“I love you,” he murmured to my cock as he dragged his mouth slowly from the head to the base.

I closed my eyes and caressed his hair as he sucked my dick, thinking that there was nothing on this earth that I’d trade this moment for.

Absolutely nothing.

“We just gonna drive back and forth forever?” I asked.

We were at his place the following weekend, having dinner at the steakhouse. We’d spent the day wandering around Patterson, browsing the bookstore, lunching at a soup and sandwich place, window shopping the antique shops. He didn't reply right away, so I continued, looking up at him as I finished speaking.

“I got no problem moving to Patterson. I can write computer code anywhere. How about we both sell and buy something that'd be ours instead of yours or mine? I’d like a place with a big garage or a barn where I could work on bikes.”

He looked at me for a long moment before dropping his eyes back down to his plate.

Uh-oh.

"Evan?" He looked back up at me. "Don't you…" I stopped to re-group, and then tried again. "I want us to live together. You're not ready for that?"

"No, no, I'm ready. You just surprised me, that's all." He smiled at my doubtful expression. "Honest. I’ve been thinking about it, too. Your place is too far for me to commute. But the condo’s too small for both of us, and there’s no place for Chew, so…”

"So we should buy something."

He nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "You really don't mind moving?"

"Nope."

He looked at me a little longer before he finally said, "That’d be great. I… I’m not real sure I could leave Patterson. My folks are here, and… the guys.”

“I know, Evan. I know how important they are to you… to us,” I added when he raised an eyebrow at me. “Let’s keep doing the back and forth thing for a while. That’ll give me time to get some work done on my house to get it ready to sell.”

We talked about what kind of place we'd like, and decided that he'd get a local realtor to start keeping an eye open for something that might suit us. I was thinking at least an acre so that we could have a big garden; three bedrooms; a large kitchen. A barn or workshop already on the property would be great, but we could add that, if necessary. Between us we had enough furniture for a good-sized house, so that wasn't a problem.

Deciding to spend the rest of your life with someone is a big goddamn decision, and we were both pretty quiet when we got back to Evan's place. We made love slowly and silently on the floor in the living room near the couch where he’d sat all those years ago with Luke, the morning after they’d done the same thing for the first time.

While I occasionally felt Luke's presence - like now - I wasn't jealous of him. I envied him the young love he'd had with Evan, before tragedy had turned Evan into the somewhat somber man he was now, but mostly, I just felt sad that he'd died before he'd had a chance to live out what sounded like a life full of promise.

Evan was on his back as I leaned over him with my braced arms holding his legs back, pumping slowly into him. He was making a soft little 'mmm' each time I slid into him, and I felt my heart give a funny little twist when he smiled up at me.

“I love you, Evan,” I said softly to him.

He pulled me down for a kiss, holding the back of my neck in one warm hand as he stroked himself with the other. His voice was strong and sure as he replied, "I love you, too."

God, it sounded so good.

As he walked me to the Jeep later, we made plans for him to come up Friday. It was hard to say goodbye, but I felt good that we’d gotten things really settled between us. I needed the security of knowing that we were moving in the same direction.

He kissed me long and deep, and I drove away with a serious hard-on that I kept going the whole drive home with one hand and smutty thoughts of Evan. By the time I pulled in my drive, the front of my jeans was damp and my balls were throbbing. I limped into the house and jerked off in the kitchen, shooting into a paper towel that I barely managed to yank off the roll in time.

That taken care of, I went back out to the Jeep to get my bag, and almost got knocked over by Chewy, who was running gleeful circles around me. Callie waved from her front door and went back to bed. I called Evan to let him know I was home safe; we talked for a few minutes, and then I crashed.

The next day, I made a list of all the stuff I needed to do to the house. The thought of moving into a place with Evan, something that was new to both of us, a home that we'd share, was exciting, and I was eager for it to happen. We really didn’t know each other all that well, I guess, but at the same time, I felt sorta like I’d known him all my life and had run into him again after years apart.

Home again, like he'd said to me that time.

By the following Friday evening, the weather had cooled off dramatically. Evan roared in the drive just as it was getting dark, and I went to meet him, stopping in amazement as I stepped out onto the porch. He was in full leathers, black from head to toe, and my heart stopped for a second, then thudded to life. He was sideways to me while he took off his helmet, and when he heard the screen door close, he turned his head over his shoulder just like the painting on the tank of the Panhead in the garage, and I felt my knees go weak. For a moment, he just looked at me, then his mouth widened in a warm smile, and my stomach did a slow back flip.

God, he looked good. He'd cut his hair short, almost buzzed on the sides with a little more on top, and he hadn’t shaved in a couple days, so his face was dark in the gloom of twilight, just his smile showing white. My dick leaped to attention as I studied this new version of him. The short hair defined his facial structure more, making him appear older and a little more butch. Not that he'd looked particularly faggy before, but this new Evan was definitely more masculine looking.

I walked down the steps to the other side of the bike, put one hand on the seat and leaned across to grab his bottom lip in my teeth. As our mouths met, I flashed on the night we got together in the garage when he’d kissed me with only our lips touching. This one had the same immediate punch as that first kiss, and it got me hard quickly, making me gasp into his mouth as my body tightened.

I broke the kiss, and pulled back a little to stare at him, breathing hard. "You look so fuckin' hawt," I growled at him. "Get your ass in the house."

I picked up his pack, walked around the back of the bike to grab his arm, and marched us into the house, where I tossed the pack on the couch, then dragged him down the hall to the bedroom. By the time we got that far, he was helping me yank his clothes off, and I followed his jeans down till I was on my knees with his rigid cock in my mouth.

He groaned, and sat down on the bed with his legs wide and me glued to his dick. As he grabbed my head, he began to fuck my mouth with short hard strokes that got him off in under a minute. When he came, I thought I was gonna drown; he just kept shooting until I finally pulled off and finished him by hand. When he slowed to quivers, I pushed him over backwards and crawled up onto him, looking down into his blissful face.

“You been saving it for me?” I asked, wiping the back of my hand across my mouth.

He smiled and opened his eyes. “Yeah, actually. Haven’t touched my dick except to piss since you left Sunday night. I’ve been hard since yesterday morning. Thought my nuts were gonna explode on the way up here.”

“Why the hell’d you do that?”

“I don’t know. Just to see if I could, I guess, but it made me shoot too quick. You give great head and I’d rather be able to enjoy it longer.”

I waggled my eyebrows at him. “I could do it again.”

“Nah, I’m done, at least for a while.” He tugged my shirt over my head, pinched my nipple, and pushed me onto my back before standing up to yank off his chaps, kick his jeans off his feet and pull mine off. He waved me up the bed a little more, and then knelt between my legs to lick my balls from every possible direction. He slid both arms under my thighs with his hands on my body so that my feet moved up closer to my ass, tweaking a nipple now and then, stroking his fingertips down my sides.

No one had ever spent that much time on just my nuts, licking and sucking, and I lay there with my eyes closed, my hands behind my head, concentrating on him. He made his little ‘mmm’ sounds as he sucked my nuts into his mouth, and the humming vibrated them gently. Each time he did that, he’d roll one nipple firmly between his thumb and forefinger, and I thought I was gonna lose my mind. When I reached for my dick, he pushed my hand away and grasped it himself, tipping it down to his mouth to lick the drizzle of precum from the tip.

I was groaning with every breath by the time he moved up to straddle me, sinking slowly down onto my cock with a long sighing moan. When he got settled and I could breathe again, I opened my eyes to look at him. He was leaned back a little with his hands just above my knees. His head was hanging back and the light from the hall threw half of him into shadow, darkening the hollows of his chest and collarbone. As I watched him, he slid forward on me so that my dick pressed against his prostate. His head slowly came forward to rest on his chest as he kept the pressure up, finally easing back when he started to tremble from the intensity of the sensation. He opened his eyes to me, dark gray with arousal.

“Awww, man, your cock hits me just right.”

I tilted my hips a bit and took several short quick strokes into him, smiling as his face contorted in a grimace of pleasure. “Nnnh, God. Fuck, that feels good!” He opened his eyes, and panted down at me. “Fuck me, Jeff.”

Don’t have to ask me twice. I sat up and grabbed him around the back with one hand as I got my feet under me and pushed us over so that he was on the bottom. I grabbed his ankles and spread him wide as I began to thrust into him. Unlike Evan, I’d jerked off at least twice a day all week, including today, so I was able to pound on him until he was whimpering each time my thighs slapped up against his ass.

“Had enough?” I gritted out as he dug his fingers into my legs. When he nodded, I sunk down a little so that I was hitting his sweet spot with each stroke. He was right, we did fit together well. After about 30 seconds of that, he grabbed his dick and came after just a few tugs. He hardly shot anything, but damn near screamed as he bucked hard enough to dislodge me. I thrust my cock alongside his and joined him in a noisy orgasm that felt so much better than my own hand jobs that I couldn’t imagine ever enjoying masturbation again.

Well, at least not as much.

I woke up an hour later when Chewy came in wondering about supper. Evan was curled up next to me, crusty with dried cum, and I had a stiff neck from sleeping without a pillow. I staggered into the bathroom and started the shower, going back to drag Evan off the bed by one foot until he woke up just before his ass hit the floor.

The dog thought it was a game and pounced on him, getting tangled up in the sheet. When I tried to free them, Evan started to tickle me, and I ended up being the last one in the shower. Evan was twitchy around me, figuring I was gonna retaliate, but I decided to choose a time when he wasn't expecting it, and washed his back calmly, ignoring his paranoid glances.

"Why the new look?"

He shrugged. "Just got a wild hair." He turned to look at me. "Whaddaya think?"

I ran my hand over his skull, feeling the shape of it and the velvety ruffle of his short hair. "I like it."

We eventually made it to the kitchen where he fed the dog while I scrounged through the cupboards for dinner. We ended up having tomato soup, grilled cheese sandwiches and Fritos - my favorite meal as a kid. It still tasted pretty damn good as we washed it all down with Dr. Peppers. Then we got dressed and took Chewy for his evening constitutional.

The neighborhood was quiet, and we walked slowly, watching the dog sniff bushes and lift a leg now and then. In one of the dark areas between the pools of light from the streetlamps, Evan turned to me. His eyes were the gray of old, weathered wood, as he looked at me with an expression of contentment. “I feel so good when I’m with you. Like everything is about as perfect as it can get.”

I smiled at him, and ran a fingertip along the edge of his jaw, feeling the soft stubble of his beard. “I know what you mean. This is the way it’s supposed to be; the way it is when you get it right.”

He turned his head to kiss my hand, and then started walking again. It was foggy that night, and when I'm old and feeble-minded, I'll still remember quietly strolling along the empty streets with the mist curling around our legs, hand in hand, talking about nothing in particular; both of us enclosed in the cocoon of fog. It was one of the best nights of my life.

As much as we didn't want it to, Sunday evening arrived, and with it, saying goodbye for five whole days. It was getting tougher every time. I vowed to blow off work next week and get the damn house done. We needed to be together to allow this promising beginning to develop into a solid relationship.

"This sucks. I want your ass in my bed every night," I told him as I hugged him tight, my face buried in his neck, storing up the scent of him to get me through the next week. I felt him nod, his beard rasping softly against mine.

Then he was gone, and I went back in the house with a hollow feeling in my gut, climbed into my cold, empty bed, and dreamed of Evan naked in my shower, giggling a little as I soaped his armpits.

Copyright © 2011 Gabriel Morgan; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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