The following fictional narrative may involve sexually-explicit erotic events between men. If you shouldn't be reading this, don't.
In the world of this story, the characters don't always use condoms. In the real world, you should care enough about yourself and others to always practice safe sex.
The author retains all rights. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the author's consent.
Thanks to Tommy for doing the editorial chores here and to Evan, Patrick, Mickey, and Ash for advice and encouragement.
Timmead88@yahoo.com Chapter 31: Autumn Encounters
GEOFF:
One nice fall day during the week after Philip came to hear us play at Nighttown, I had lunch, as usual, at the Union. I was having the meatloaf special and thinking they didn't really do a bad job with it, when I looked up. Coming towards me, carrying a tray, was the man himself, pushing his package before him.
He was wearing the usual faded jeans, this time with a pink sweatshirt. I smiled as he approached, obviously intending to sit with me.
As he set his tray down opposite me, I saw that embroidered on his shirt were the words, "Don't Knock It Till You've Tried It!"
"Philip, good to see you."
"Good to see you, too, stud." he replied.
"Hey, man, it was a nice surprise at Nighttown last weekend to look out and see you there. I'm flattered that you came all the way into the city to hear our group."
"Well, maestro, you know I've been a fan of the trio since last spring when you guys played on campus."
"Yeah, you said that," I said, lifting a forkful of mashed potatoes. "I hope you weren't disappointed."
He looked me in the eye and grinned. It was an amazing grin, as if he and I had a secret that was hilarious but that only the two of us knew it. His eyes sparkled, and my cock twitched. "Disappointed? Get real! You guys are too good to be playing in a place like that. No offence to Nighttown, but you should be in a big city. You're not just good, you're goooood."
I could feel myself blushing. "Thanks, man," was all I could think of to say.
"I've got a question for you," he said, as he put down his burger with a big chunk bitten out of it and began to dip a fry into a puddle of catsup.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Both of the other guys got solos the other night, and they've both not only got nice voices, but nice singing styles. What about the boss man? Don't you sing?"
I was a little embarrassed because Tony's solo was a last-minute insertion into the program. I had done it when I saw Philip. Now I was afraid that asking Tony to sing "Love Walked In" was too obvious an indication of my feelings for the sexy stud sitting opposite me.
"I can carry a tune, of course. But my voice isn't as good as Tony's or Roy's. In fact, I'm a tenor. And the tenor voice just isn't something that you'd associate with a jazz trio. At the moment, the only guy I can think of with a voice anything like mine was Chet Baker."
"I hadn't thought of that, Geoff, but you're right, of course. Have you ever sung?"
"Well, yeah. I sang in the church choir and the high school show choir. And I did the vocals in a rock band that played mostly in my garage back then. I could do a mean falsetto."
He chuckled. "Why did you leave rock and turn to jazz?"
"Well, I really love jazz. And what chance is there for a new rock group to get anywhere?"
"I see what you mean, of course, but with your talent you should make it whatever you decide to do."
Was he buttering me up? It sure sounded that way. Ashkenazy I'm not, though if I could be anything in the world, I'd like best to be a classical pianist. I decided not to tell Philip that and just changed the subject.
"So, what's new with you?" As soon as I said it I was embarrassed that I'd uttered something so trite.
He smiled. "Well, there is SOME good news. The cops caught the three high school goons who beat up Steve Metz."
"Hey, that's great! What `s the story?"
"It seems one of them got cold feet and came to the cops and confessed. The cops picked up the other two, and their parents got to the bottom of everything. So the boys were arraigned, or whatever they do to juveniles, and they're waiting their time in Juvenile Court."
"I don't know Metz, but he's a friend of Trey Withers, who likes him. In fact, Metz stayed with Trey and his roomie, Chaz Greeley, for over a week after he got out of the hospital."
Philip's reporter's instinct must have kicked in because he said, "Why did he do that?"
"For one thing, they were afraid he might be attacked again. Besides, Metz had several cracked or severely-bruised ribs. He was pretty helpless for a while. Couldn't do much. Couldn't even bathe himself."
"Oh, baby, I saw a picture of Metz. Wouldn't mind giving that hot piece a bath! Imagine him having to get help in the shower from a couple of guys!"
I almost said something. Then I remembered that Trey wasn't out, and as far as I knew his tall roommate was straight, so I just grinned back at Philip and said, "Yeah, Metz is good looking." He took another bite of his burger. "Now," I said, "I've got a question for you. Maybe a stupid one."
"There are no stupid questions, babe. Ask."
"Why does your organization call itself the Straight/Gay Alliance' instead of the Gay/Straight Alliance'? Seems to me since it's mostly to help gays, it should be the other way around."
He flashed me another one of those killer grins. The man was so self-assured, and, I think, so aware of his sexiness, that I nearly passed out. I mean it. My breath got short for a minute.
"Two reasons, Geoffie. When the organization was founded, long before you or I were students here, they wanted to attract straights as well as us queers, so they decided to put the word `straight' first. The second reason, so they tell me, is that they didn't want the initials to be GSA."
I was puzzled for a minute. Then I saw what he meant. "Oh, the Girl Scouts!"
He laughed. "You got it!"
I had managed throughout all this not to drool into my meatloaf, but my cock was drooling. I decided to carpe the diem, so to speak.
"Philip, would you, uh, that is . . . "
"Yeah, Geoff?"
"Well, would you like to come over to my place some evening and listen to jazz cd's with me?"
He dunked the last fry in his catsup, ate it, crumpled up his napkin, threw it on his tray, stood up, winked at me, and said, "I'd rather hear you play. Do you have a piano?"
"All I've got is an electronic keyboard. Can't afford a piano and don't have space for one. I have an arrangement with the University music department to use one of their practice pianos when I need one. So I think you'd be smarter to listen to jazz cd's with me."
"Yeah, Geoff, that'd be great. I'd like that. Let's do it soon. See ya around."
I noticed that he didn't linger to set a date for getting together. Talk about mixed signals! Once more I looked wistfully at his fine ass wiggling under the denim as he walked away from our table.
TREY:
Things with Chaz continued to be tense. I was waiting for an apology that never came. He persisted in treating me like a kid who was having a temper tantrum and would eventually get over it.
At least I was enjoying my classes. I was taking nothing but English courses now that I had switched my major, and I loved them. So I tended to avoid Chaz and stay away from the apartment as much as possible.
Although I had always used the workout and training facilities the university kept exclusively for varsity athletes, lately I had been using the open facilities instead. Less chance of running into Chaz. Or other friends, for that matter. I just didn't feel much like chit-chatting.
One afternoon as I was showering, Kent Statten came in. I'd always thought Kent was a great-looking guy, but I'd never seen him naked before. What a sight he was! Four inches taller than me, probably, he was on the thin side. Nicely developed muscles, but not really very much bulk. He had square, flat pectorals and a discernible but not bulging six pack. His hair was light brown with blond highlighting. His eyes were dark brown.
As we walked into the shower, he put his towel on a hook and came to the shower head next to mine. I hastily looked up at his face, but not before I had noticed that he was lightly haired on his arms and legs with a light treasure trail leading to very bushy pubes. His dick was pretty long even though it was soft, and he had equally big nuts.
He flashed me a big smile and said, "Hey, Tiger. You slumming?"
I couldn't think what he meant for a minute, and then I realized he meant the facilities. I didn't know what to say to that, so I just smiled and said, "Hi, Kent. How've you been?"
He was washing his pits as he said, "I've been great, man. But how are you? I've felt so bad about what your buddy did to you that night at the restaurant."
"I'm OK, I guess. I'm sorry you had to see that display."
"Trey, what are you planning to do after you finish here? Got time for a beer or something?"
I had no reason to rush back to the apartment, so I said, "Sure, why not?"
We finished showering, neither of us saying much. I told him I'd get dressed and meet him in the lobby.
I didn't have to wait long. Kent soon came striding toward me. He was wearing a brown shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and khakis. His hair was still a little wet, and there was a small curl hanging down over his forehead. He smiled when he saw me, and my cock twitched.
"Trey, you got your car here?"
"Yeah."
"Can I bum a ride, then? A friend dropped me off."
"Sure." We walked out across the big parking lot to my car. "You have any preference where we go?"
"No, it's early yet, so we should be able to talk anyplace."
When we got into my car, I noticed how good he smelled -- of body wash, shampoo, deodorant -- I don't know what. But looked and smelled sexy. I drove to "Noplace," a bar that my friends didn't frequent. When we got inside, Kent said, "This is on me. Any preference?"
"Not really, thanks."
I found us a booth and slid in. Kent was there soon after with a couple of mugs of draft lite, which he put on the table. Then he sat opposite me.
After we tasted our beer, he asked me how my classes were going. I told him about switching majors and how much I was enjoying that. Next he asked about Stan Mason. Said he hadn't seen him lately and wondered if he was all right. I explained that Stan had taken a job in Florida. I asked how he had come to know Stan.
"Oh, I met him through Mark. We're both pre-law, you know, and we're both on the debate team. Mark's dad used to come for the debates whenever he could, and in the spring he'd be here for as many home baseball games as his job in Meadville allowed. Then I'd occasionally seem him and Mark at Stefan's. He's a great guy. He seems to have taken an interest in my career. And he leaves wonderful tips! Like I said, he's a really impressive man."
He took a swallow of his beer and looked appraisingly at me over his mug. "Sexy, too."
I had to chuckle. "Kent, that's a question about my sexuality, I think."
He grinned back. "And if it is?"
"Look, Chaz and I aren't generally out. Only a few friends know. But how could I deny we're gay after what you saw at Stefan's that night?" I took a swallow of my beer and looked levelly back at him.
"That's cool. You know I won't tell anyone."
"Kent, did you ask me to come here so you could ask if Chaz and I are gay?"
He looked calmly back at me and said, "I thought we had just established that I knew already. Have I pissed you off, Trey?"
"No, Kent. I'm sorry. I'm pretty touchy these days, I guess. But, though I'm grateful for the beer, and you're a nice guy, I can't help wondering why we are here."
He'd been holding his mug with both hands. He set it down and leaned against the back of the booth. "Trey, I saw the whole thing. I'm not sure whether any of the patrons did or not, but I saw Chaz put his foot in your crotch, and I saw just about everything else that happened after that. I guess I shouldn't have watched. At first, I couldn't believe what I was seeing, and then I got caught up in how you must have been feeling about what he was doing. The more I watched, man, the more I agonized for you. I wanted to haul Greeley out of his chair and start whaling on him."
"Thanks, Kent. I appreciate your feeling. Actually, I thought at first he was just teasing and would quit. By the time I knew he was going to keep on until I came, he had me pinned so I couldn't get out of the chair without attracting a lot of attention. And by then I had a boner that I couldn't have hidden, either."
"That sucks, man. I don't want to pry. Tell me to butt out anytime, OK?"
"I'll take you up on that. Go ahead."
"I know you and Greeley have been roomies ever since freshman year, right?"
I nodded.
"It seemed obvious when you guys came into the restaurant all duded up that you were more than roomies, that you were a couple, and that you were celebrating something."
I don't know why I didn't tell Kent to mind his own business, but I sensed he wasn't just being nosy. "Well, we were celebrating three years as friends, but we were also celebrating three months of being a couple."
Kent rolled his eyes, took a swallow of beer, and said, "That's a hell of a way to treat your partner. How could you do that to someone you care for?"
I held out both hands, palms up, in a gesture that said, "Beats me."
"I suppose he's apologized by now."
This was getting a little uncomfortable. I don't know whether it was because Kent was pushing too hard or because I hated to admit that there had been no apology. I took a swallow of beer.
"Trey," Kent said apologetically, "I've gone too far. It's none of my business. I'm sorry I asked."
"It's OK, Kent. I'm not offended or anything, but I don't think I want to answer that question." Hell, I had just answered it, hadn't I? If Chaz had apologized, I'd probably have told Kent.
He was looking at me with sympathy in his eyes. It was an indication of my confused state that I didn't know whether I resented his sympathy or was grateful for it.
"Look, Trey, I've got to get home and change for Stefan's. But I just want you to know I think what Chaz did sucks. You're a great guy. You deserve someone in your life who knows that."
I had one hand resting on the table. He reached over, put his hand on top of mine and squeezed it.
"Gotta run."
"Thanks, Kent, for the beer and for the understanding. Hey, you don't have your car. Can I drop you someplace?"
"No, that's OK, Tiger, thanks. I don't live far from here. I'll be fine. But, look -- "
He paused and looked me in the eye.
"If you need a sympathetic listener, I'm here, man."
I stood up and walked out with him. We shook hands. "Next time, the beer's on me," I said. He smiled and jogged off toward his apartment.
"Next time?" Was I expecting we'd do that again?
As I drove home, I was thinking that Tim had said to give Chaz more time. I wondered how much more time it would take. I couldn't get things with Chaz back the way they were until I saw some sign he realized what he had done to me. Should I wait? Or was it time to move on?
STEVE:
Sgt. Ibrahim set it up for Jared and me to meet. Since it was a nice October day with the temperature in the upper 60's, we met in a city park. When the sergeant introduced us, he said he was going to take a walk. I think he was going to get out of earshot but keep us in sight. He had probably guaranteed Jared's parents that he'd protect him in case I felt like attacking him or something. I'm just guessing that, but it seems reasonable. I mean, the sergeant knows I'm not like that, but Jared's parents might have been worried.
Anyway, Jared was a very nervous kid. About my height, built a lot like me, Jared was a towhead with turquoise eyes. He had a kind of All-American, boy-next-door look. His hair hung down over his forehead a little, though it wasn't really long, and he had a slightly blunt nose. He had on a CWRU sweatshirt that sort of matched his eyes, plus jeans and sneakers. I had on jeans and sneakers, too, with a blue and green plaid flannel shirt.
"Jared, here's a bench. Would you rather sit or walk?"
"Uh, is it OK if we just sit here?"
"Sure."
So we sat, but it was a small bench and it was hard to look at each other. I got up and walked a few paces and sat in the grass. He came over and sat, with a good five feet separating us, facing me.
"Now. Relax. I'm not violent. I won't attack you. Besides, our friend the sergeant is watching us from over there to make sure I don't." I pointed to where Ibrahim was. "I promise not even to yell at you, so suppose you tell me why we're here."
He was stretched out on the grass, propping himself up with his right arm. "Mr. Metz, first of all, I want you to know that I'm not here because I'm hoping Judge Flowers will be easy on me."
"Look, Jared, I'm a college student. I understand you're trying to be on your best behavior, but you might as well call me Steve."
He swallowed and tried to smile. "Uh, OK, Steve." He visibly steeled himself. "I'm here because I feel like such a shit for what the other guys and I did to you. I just haven't been able to live with myself since that night, man, and I realize I have to start by apologizing to you. I don't expect you to pat me on the head and say it's OK, but I want you to know that I am really sorry. What we did sucks."
I thought of how sore I was for weeks after those guys had jumped me. But this kid didn't seem like a goon to me.
"Dude, I hurt for weeks after that. I couldn't even wash myself. Had to stay with friends and have them help me. The doctors said I was lucky I didn't have kidney or liver damage from what you and your friends did. So I'm sorry you did it, too."
He looked like he was going to be sick.
"Now, Jared, I had to tell you that. Would you like to tell me how you happened to be in on all this?"
He was twiddling his fingers through the grass between his legs. "I've always been kind of skinny and awkward, not good at sports. Sort of geeky, you know?"
He didn't look particularly geeky to me, but I didn't say anything. What I DID do was wonder if I was looking at guys differently now that I'd wound up with a bunch of gay friends. I nodded my head for him to go on.
"Well, Richie and Jeremy were popular guys. They're both into sports at our school, and they sort of adopted me. You know, they kept other guys from hassling me, let me hang around with them, and all that. We spent a lot of time together this summer at the pool, looking at the chicks, working on our tans, and stuff."
I looked at him again. "Did you swim much?"
He smiled. "I swam a lot. I love to swim. I think the other guys were there more to look and to be seen in their Speedos, if you know what I mean."
"I sort of thought you might be a swimmer. Are you on your swim team?"
"No, I never thought I was good enough."
Making a mental note to come back to that, I told him to go on with his story.
"Well, look, Steve, I won't drag this all out. When those guys decided that you were a pedo this summer, I couldn't understand why, but I didn't have the balls to say so. I wanted them to like me, I wanted them to let me keep hangin' with `em. So I kept quiet. I went along with leaving the note on your car and even with the broken window thing, though I was beginning to get pretty nervous about all of it by that time."
I've been a loner most of my life, so I guess I have developed my own mechanisms for dealing with being out of the "in" crowd. I could understand his plight.
"Richie and Jeremy didn't tell me what they had planned until that evening. They just called me, told me what to wear, and said they'd pick me up. They handed me a mask when I got into Richie's car. When they told me what we were going to do, I tried to talk them out of it. But I'm the odd man out, you know? Jeremy always sticks with Richie. They said if I didn't get involved with this, I wouldn't be their friend any more. And they threatened to strip me naked and shove me out of the car downtown some Saturday at noon."
Those punks probably would have done that to him, too.
"So, like I said, I'm a chicken. I played along. When they actually jumped you, though, I just kind of stood back. I didn't want to be there and really didn't want to be doing that. After you were down on the ground and your nose was bleeding and you had drawn your knees up . . . oh, God, Steve, I'm SO sorry!"
He had tears in his eyes. "You don't have to go on, Jared, if you don't want to."
"No, man, I gotta do this. You had your knees pulled up and your hands over your head. Richie looked at me `cause he knew I hadn't done anything to you. He motioned with his head that I was supposed to do something. I figured your butt could take a kick easier than anything else, so I kicked you there a couple of times. I was wearing sneakers, and I tried not to kick you too hard, but the other guys were watching, so I had to make it look like I was really trying to hurt you."
"Yeah? Then what happened?"
"Then Jeremy sort of lost his nerve and said something like `Jeez, we'd better get outta here!' So we all ran back to Richie's car."
Either he was a very good actor, or he was being totally sincere. I found myself almost feeling sorry for him.
"Jared, is there anything else you want to tell me.?"
He was looking down at the grass again, pulling out little bunches of it. Then he looked up at me. "Yeah. And this is the, what's the word? Ironic? That's it. This is the ironic part. Those guys were doing all that shit to you because they thought you were a child molester. What they didn't know was that their geeky friend is gay!"
OK. I think I knew right then that the kid wasn't shitting me. He might have been making a play for my sympathy before, but he wouldn't have come out to me if that's what he was after.
"Who else knows?"
"Only my twin sister, Jess. And she's known just about as long as I have. I've been so confused. I wanted to be liked at school, and I thought people would like me if I palled around with Richie and Jeremy. I've been so stupid, and I guess I'll pay for that. I just had to tell you how sorry I am. Don't know why I outed myself to you. Are you going to tell everybody?"
"I won't tell a soul if you don't want me to."
He looked really relieved. My mind was going a mile a minute.
"Jared, does your family go to church?"
"Yeah, every Sunday. We're Methodists."
"I know this guy, he's the youth minister at the Episcopal Church here in town, St. Peter's. I think it would be good if you could talk with him. He knows a lot of gay college guys, and you'd probably be able to ask him things that he could help you with. You know, about being gay. Do you think your folks would mind?"
"No, I'm sure they wouldn't, but I'd have to tell them why I was going to see him. I guess it's about time they knew the truth. Nothing like dumping some more heartache on them."
"Well, guy, you might be surprised. Have they been supportive so far?"
"They have, really. I mean they were pretty upset when they found out what I've done, but they don't hate me or anything."
"So, I'd suggest you tell them. You're going to need their support as you go through the juvie court process, and you don't want to be keeping any secrets, especially something that important, from them."
He thought about that for a while. `Thanks, Steve. You're right."
"Now, I have another question for you."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. If you don't wind up in the juvenile home over this, you'll have some kind of community service, I suppose. But if there was time, what would you think about going out for the swim team at your school?"
He smiled broadly for the first time that afternoon. "You know, I've always kind of thought I'd like that. I just never had the nerve to try out."
"What year are you?"
"I'm a senior."
"Well, that's a little late to be getting into the program, but I think you should go out. I was a swimmer in high school, and that gave me more confidence than anything I had ever done. And, it's a great way to make friends" I winked at him. "You might even meet some guys who like your bod."
He blushed as only blonds can. "Thanks, Steve. I'll think about it. That is, IF I don't wind up in Juvenile Hall for the rest of my life."
I stood up, so he did too.
"You know, Jared, I hope you don't. I'll tell Sgt. Ibrahim that, too, for whatever it's worth. And, listen guy, I respect you for what you've done this morning."
I looked over his shoulder and saw the sergeant sauntering along a path towards us, appearing to enjoy the surroundings and the nice day.
Jared had tears in his eyes again when he offered me his hand to shake. "Now that I know what a great guy you are, Steve, I feel worse than ever. But thanks, man, for being so cool." He swallowed. `"I guess the next time I see you, it will be in court."
"Hang in there, Jared," I said, as we shook hands.
Sgt. Ibrahim arrived, shook hands with me, winked, and walked with Jared back to his unmarked car in the parking lot.
CEDRIC:
Tim and I were lying on our sides, facing each other, lazily rubbing each other's nips.
"Have you seen Trey or Chaz lately?" he asked.
"Haven't seen Tiger for days. He's been avoiding the gym, it seems, but I did bump into Chaz after Mark and I worked out yesterday."
"Did you get any idea of how things are going with them?"
I leaned over, encircled his nip with my lips, and began to suck. I was tonguing it at the same time. Tim moaned and put the hand that had been rubbing my pect on the back of my head. That interrupted our conversation for a while. When I came up for air, he pushed me over on my back and began to reciprocate. I couldn't help it. I just put my arms around him and pulled him on top of me. He continued to nuzzle and suck.
After a while, he rolled onto his back and said, "You never answered my question."
"What? What question?"
"About Chaz and Trey."
"Oh. Yeah. Chaz says they still aren't sleeping together, and Trey is staying away from the apartment a lot more than usual."
"So, obviously, Chaz hasn't apologized yet."
"I asked him about that, and he got pretty testy. He said he was just trying to have some fun with Trey and he thought Trey was being a total asshole about the whole thing. Said he never knew that Trey was such a sorehead, and he wasn't about to apologize."
"I was afraid of that. Poor Trey!"
He began to run his hand over my chest, across my nips, down around my navel, stopping before he got to my pubes. Then he began to trace my eyebrows with the pointer finger of that hand. He stroked my forehead, my cheeks, my nose, my lips. Then he leaned over and brushed his lips lightly against mine.
"You think the time has come for the Brotherhood to get involved?"
"What could we do?"
"You do agree that Chaz is being obtuse, don't you?"
I chuckled. "Yeah, but he has a way of being obtuse a lot."
"Less than he used to though, right?"
"Well, yeah, I suppose."
I pulled him over and began to tongue his ear. He shuddered. He loved for me to do that, but he always shook a little when I did.
After that, we didn't talk much, except for things like "Oh, yeah," and "Faster, deeper," for about half an hour.
As we lay in each other's arms later, Tim said, "About Chaz and Trey, I don't know exactly what you could do . . . ."
"Let me think about it," I mumbled.
Then we went to sleep in each other's arms.
When Chaz got back to the apartment, he set the large pizza he had brought home from Papa John's on the kitchen table and checked to see if his roommate was there.
"Tiger?" No answer. He saw that the door of Trey's bedroom, what had been THEIR bedroom, was open. No Trey.
"Fuck," he said. "I HATE eating alone. He turned on the oven to "warm" and put the pizza in. Then he went into his friend's room and brought the laundry hamper into the kitchen. He had done a load of his own laundry the day before, so he thought he'd do up Trey's. He set the dials on the washing machine which was usually conveniently hidden behind folding doors in the kitchen, added detergent, and began dropping Trey's laundry into the machine.
`Tiger's not a morning person, so I'm up and out of here before he gets up. He isn't coming home for lunch or supper these days. In fact, he comes home just in time to say good night and go to bed.'
`What am I going to do? He's obviously still pissed with me. Why is he making such a federal case out of this? It was all in good fun. Sure, I wanted to embarrass him a little. But if anyone saw anything besides Kent, I don't know about it. So what's the real harm? I know he wants me to apologize, but I can't help thinking he's blowing everything out of proportion.'
`I wonder if there's something else. Somebody told me they saw Trey and Kent Statten having a beer the other day. What's that all about? Maybe Trey was just trying to make sure Kent didn't say anything to anybody else. Could that be it?'
Chaz ate most of the pizza. He put what was left in zipper bags and put them in the freezer, thinking that Trey could always nuke them if he came home hungry.
Then he took Trey's clothes carefully out of the washer and put them in the dryer.
After that he went into his room and studied for a while. He was finding the courses in his new major more demanding than the ones he'd been taking previously, but he liked them. He could see how they would be helpful in preparing him for the career he had set his sights on.
When the dryer dinged, he went back to the kitchen, took out Trey's clothes, folding what needed to be folded and hanging up the rest. He put the things on hangers in Trey's closet and left the folded stuff on Trey's bed.
By the time he had finished with his assignments, it was nearly 11:00, far later than he was used to studying. He got a beer from the fridge, turned the tv to Comedy Central, and sat watching it.
About 11:15, Trey came in.
"Hey, Tiger, you had your dinner?"
"Yeah, I've eaten."
"How was your day?"
"OK, thanks."
"How about a glass of cabernet, or a beer?"
Trey stared at him for a moment.
"No, thanks, Chaz. I'm going to bed now. Good night."
"'Night, babe."
Trey went into the bathroom, where Chaz could hear him brushing his teeth.
`Damn! Wonder how long that boy is going to hold his grudge? I wonder if maybe I HAVE gone and done something stupid. Again.'
"Oh, God, Philip, you eat ass better than anybody! Maybe it's the `stache and goatee, but nobody does a rim job like you," Kent exclaimed.
Philip didn't say anything. He just moved his face in a circular motion, rubbing his face hair around the sensitive area.
His partner moaned. `Ooohhhh, yeahh! That's fantastic, man. Don't stop!"
Philip changed tactics and stuck a lubed finger into the saliva-covered, twitching hole.
"Oh, yeah, Phil baby, yeah! That's soooo nice! But I'm ready for that manpole of yours Don't need any more fingers. Fuck me, stud!"
Philip reached over to the bedside table, where he grabbed the lube and a condom. After he had carefully prepared himself, he swatted the rump that was still sticking up in front of him and said, "Turn over." Kent obediently turned over.
Soon the bedroom was filled with the sounds and smells of two men rutting. Philip looked down at the man under him and grinned. The grin was returned.
"Nothing like a good fuck, right babe?"
"You got that right!"
Philip sharply slapped Kent's left buttock.
"Ooh."
"Yeah, tighten up on me there, stud. I've fucked you so much you're getting a little loose." He slapped the other cheek. "Uh huh, that's better. Clamp down!"
"Well, we could take a week's break and give my ass some time to tighten up. Or I could be the top for a while."
"I don't want to wait a week. You sure you'd know what to do on top?" Philip asked, grinning again.
"You have lots of reasons to know that I can top. I'll fuck your arrogant brains out any time you ask me nicely."
"Sounds better than a week's abstinence. And there wouldn't be any point in taking off a week if you're going to let other guys at this nice ass."
"What do you think I am, a slut?"
"Well, you said it. I didn't"
By then, what with Philip's pumping and Kent's thrusting his butt up to meet Philip, they were getting too far into their coupling to talk. The room was filled with groans, muttering, the occasional curse.
Kent was vigorously jacking his cock as they each retreated into their own sexual haze.
"Oh, shit, I'm coming!" Kent pumped a load of spooge onto his chest and abdomen. Soon afterward he could feel the sheathed cock inside him swell and spasm as Philip unloaded into the condom.
Philip looked down at the man underneath him. "Thanks. That was super, as always." He withdrew, got off the bed, pulled the condom off his still partly engorged cock, and went into the bathroom across the hall. Kent heard the sound of the toilet flushing, then water running. When Philip came back into the room, he had a damp wash cloth, which he used to wipe the cum off his partner. Then he went back to the bathroom and cleaned himself up.
When he had finished, he got back into the bed. Both men lay on their backs, hands clasped behind their heads.
"Isn't this where we're supposed to have a cigarette?"
"Filthy habit."
"So, Philip, how are things going with Geoff?"
"According to the master plan. I think he really likes me. But I'm taking my time, keeping him off balance by being very friendly and then by staying away from him for a week at a time. He thinks it's just because I'm so busy with my classes, the column, and the Alliance. Poor guy. He seems so grateful when I give him a little attention.
"What's he got that I haven't got?"
Philip looked over at his fuck buddy and grinned. "Naiveté, innocence, a virgin asshole."
Kent said, "I don't know Benton. He's cute, but I've never talked with him. You aren't going to get him all hot and bothered and leave him that way, are you?"
"No, I want to get him into bed. May have an exclusive with him for a while. I just want him to be good and ready first."
"I hope you aren't going to fuck with his emotions and then dump him."
Philip shrugged. "Who knows?"
After a moment or so of silence, Kent asked, "Do you know Trey Withers?"
"Yeah, I don't know him well, but I've had a drink with him from time to time. Why?"
"I'm thinking of going after him. He's a really great guy. I mean, he is hot, wouldn't you agree?"
"Oh, yeah."
"He's a sexy fucker, for sure. But he also knows who he is, like he's comfortable in his own skin."
"Maybe the word you want is poised' or secure,' Philip replied, turning his head to smile at Kent."
"Whatever. But, as I said, he's really somebody I like being around. And this might be a good time to see if he's looking for a new friend."
"I've always assumed he was straight. You mean my gaydar needs a tune-up?"
"I can't tell you why I know, but I'm pretty sure he's one of us and just now may be ripe for the picking."
Philip chuckled. "I wouldn't mind tasting his banana."
"Back off, man. If he's available I have first dibs, OK?"
"Hey, just jerking your chain, Kent. Good luck with Withers."
To be continued.