Evil Is a Man

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

If you like what you're reading, let me know: SellarDhor@gmail.com. And let me know where you want the story to go and who you want Jake to end up with. And if you have any ideas for the future, let me know, I might include them.

DECEMBER 11th

As I drove my Corolla east towards the Sierra Nevada mountains, I started to feel a gnawing emptiness inside me. I realized how piercingly sad I was to be leaving Ahmad. I had gotten so accustomed to the guy; addicted, even. I realized that in spite of all the horrible things I had gone through recently in the bay area, I still just wanted to turn that car around, and that was solely due to Ahmad.

It was late morning when I got to Lake Tahoe. I wasn't prepared for how gorgeous it would look in person. Even though it was raining when I arrived, it was still breathtakingly majestic, a huge tranquil pool of blue surrounded by rugged mountains. In fact, I had to pull over and take a few shots with my cell phone as soon as I saw it. Syd's house wasn't lakefront property; it was more back in the woods, isolated from the other houses. When I pulled up to it, I noticed how small it looked, just a tiny cabin.

When my father had offered me no shred of affection, Syd was there. When Dad died, Syd moved in with the family for half a year or so to help out. All my memories of him were extremely positive; he gave me a male role model besides my drunken old man.

The short time he spent living with us when I was eleven and he was twenty-six was the happiest period of my childhood. He actually cared about us, played videogames and football with us, and really listened to us. I was heartbroken when he moved out and left the city six months later. I blamed my mom, who developed feelings for him. She took his platonic affection for flirting, and when she started to put the moves on him, he left.

I hadn't seen him since then, although I talked to him often, either on the phone or by email. He would always send us postcards if he went somewhere exciting, and he always sent Jerry and I presents on our birthdays, something that I was grateful for considering he wasn't exactly wealthy. I'd always held him in the highest regard.

What luck that he had recently found a job (bartending, his usual gig) and bought a house in Lake Tahoe. He told me he'd be delighted to have me visit, as he was planning to spend the holiday by himself. Although he warned me that he'd be working during the days so I'd probably have a lot of alone time.

I was excited to see him, although also a little nervous. Would he recognize me? Would I recognize him? Would he be disappointed with me? Would we have nothing in common anymore? After all, he had only a high school education, and here I was in a university. Oh well, all of those questions would be answered soon enough.

As soon as I turned my car off, there he was. He was out the front door of the cabin, his right hand up in the air, saluting me and beckoning me forward. He looked exactly the same as I remembered him. He was wearing bootcut, dusty jeans, a sleeveless, dark-grey shirt, big cowboy boots, a frayed cowboy hat, and the largest cowboy belt buckle I'd ever seen, complete with a silver "L" on it; Logan was his last name. I guess he hadn't grown out of his cowboy look. He had a Marlboro hanging from his lips, a habit I had hoped he had broken by then, but no such luck. He was tall--6'2" I thought. His dark blonde hair was cut short, but not buzzed, and stuck out from under his cowboy hat; his skin was still tan. His wide smile was amazingly charming.

But now, eight years later, I saw him in a whole new light. I had never noticed how incredibly sexy Syd was. His face was gorgeous: big green eyes surely capable of melting even the most frozen heart (which he mostly kept at a slight squint), masculine nose and chin, a cut jaw line, and mischievous lips. He had a layer of thick tan stubble that covered his chin and cheeks.

His body, though mostly clothed, seemed to be thick with muscles. I was thankful he was wearing a sleeveless shirt, because it showed off his beautiful arms. His shoulders were big and round, with muscle lines appearing as he walked. His bis were huge, clearly this guy hadn't let his gym membership go to waste. His forearms were thick and covered with golden hair. If the rest of his body looked as good as his arms, Syd would truly prove to be one major stud. Syd had a very sexy walk, almost a little bit of cocky swagger to it.

Now, believe me, the one thing I had seen way too much of in the South were cowboys. Sure, the outfit and attitude sounded hot in theory, but in person, the cowboys were almost never attractive. It was my theory that only unattractive men dressed that way in a desperate attempt to have women appreciate them. But Syd proved my stereotypes wrong. He was the one truly sexy cowboy. Heck, the guy would have been sexy if he chose to run around in a pink tutu, the whole western getup just made him that much hotter. And it certainly helped that Syd's cowboy quirks weren't affectation, they were completely natural and genuine.

When Syd wasn't smiling, his handsome face could look quite piercing and intimidating. Lucky for me, the guy was smiling most of the time, including as he approached my car. Ah yes, I remembered that smile. Syd had two very different smiles, but that was the warm, sweet smile he absolutely could not fake. It made my heart jump as this man of incredible, natural beauty opened my car door for me.

"Hurry up and get out of the car, Jakey," he said. He didn't wait for me to do it on my own volition, instead choosing to pull me out of the car himself. "Lord, it's good to see you!" he said, his buff arms pulling me into a bearhug. Growing up, Syd had never been afraid of showing me love and affection, and that's part of the reason why I loved him so much, because he was the antithesis of my father. Of course, I had assumed that Syd would no longer be affectionate since I was grown. But Syd was quickly putting that assumption to bed, as he held me in his tight grasp. People assumed I didn't like affection because I never initiated it, but that was just me being afraid to express my feelings. When people I respected initiated that affection, it was profoundly moving to me. Syd playfully lifted me off my feet, proving that he was still strong as heck. As my face landed against his thick neck, I noticed the smell of cologne mixed with a manly sweat smell. He smelled just as amazing as he looked.

The swelling in my heart subsided, and I realized again that I was being held in a tight embrace by one of the sexiest men I had ever seen, held off my feet by the guy's strong, sculpted arms. I started to get a little hard, and I suddenly became worried that I would embarrass myself if he kept up this hug that went on forever. Suddenly I felt like I was going straight from the frying pan into the fire. Living with Ahmad had done enough to my hormones as it was. Now I was tasked with having to survive a few weeks with this stud, who was equally unavailable, and not to mention the fact that any lusting after this guy was totally inappropriate. Why was it always the straight guys that were the sexiest? God must have been testing my resolve.

Finally, he set me down on my feet. His cowboy hat had fallen off in the hug, revealing his sandy, messily-short hair. "Lemme get a look at you," he said, his hands clutching my shoulders as he looked me up and down. "Kripes, kid, when did you get so goddamn tall? What your mother been feeding you, hmm?"

"You're still taller than me," I said.

"Not by much," Syd said. "And look how handsome ya gotten, a real looker. And ya got one helluva lady-killer smile on ya. I reckon you been killin' plenty over there in that college of yours."

I laughed, embarrassed. I didn't want to come out to Syd, but I wasn't going to lie either. So, I said nothing. Instead, I picked up his cowboy hat and handed it to him. "Still dressing like a cowboy, I see," I said. "I guess you're not trying to blend in with the Californians."

"You know what they say," he said. "You can take the man out of Texas, but you can't take the Texas out of the man. But what about you, Jakey? Your accent is gone, far as I can tell. Still got some of the South in there somewhere?" he playfully squeezed my left pec with his hand, and smiled at me. This time it was his other, more common smile, the half smile that oozed charisma. Syd was always such a charmer.

"Gosh, I hope not," I said, only half joking.

He scooped my suitcase and backpack out of the backseat. I persisted: "I can take those, Syd."

"No, no, I got `em. Come inside, Jakey, I want you to see the place."

He led me into the house. It was tiny, really more of a log cabin than anything else, the floors, walls and ceiling all dark, unfinished wood. The main room we stood in had a couch, a small TV, and a fireplace. Behind the couch the living room turned into the small, cluttered kitchen, where a table and three chairs appeared to be the only sitting area besides the couch.

"It's small, I know. But it's all I need."

"It's bigger than the dorms, that's for sure."

Now, two things that I knew all too well about Syd I was reminded of again as I looked at his place. First, he really didn't give one iota about décor. He had no eye for decorating, in fact he belittled the hobby, and he tended not to be impressed with grandly decorated places (one reason why he didn't seem to want to visit any major cities).

But the second thing I knew about Syd explained why he had decorated the place at all. He was a fierce Casanova, and a lot of what he did was in consideration of how women would react. He knew too well that women don't like sparse, empty spaces. They like some sort of décor. So, to appease them, he allowed some dressings in his place, clearly of his choosing. They all fit into his cowboy, southwest theme. Even with antler decorations, furs, Native American art, it managed to be tasteful.

He pointed towards the couch. "I warned you that you'd have to sleep on the couch. It's not the most comfortable, but it's sturdy."

"I'll be fine, I can sleep anywhere." While it was true that I was not a fussy sleeper, I gave a second look at the ratty-looking couch and wondered how clean it was.

"Sometimes I have the morning shift at the bar, and I leave for work at about seven in the morning, but I'll try to sneak out. Are you a light sleeper?"

"No, I sleep soundly," I answered. "Well, I guess as long as I don't have any nightmares."

"Ain't you a little old for bad dreams, Jakey? You been having a lot of those lately?" His voice turned to concern.

"Not really," I answered. "Just one I can remember in recent memory."

"Was it about having to spend Christmas with your old Uncle Syd?"

"No, I wish I had dreamt about that. Instead I dreamt about being murdered by a bunch of monsters."

He laughed. "Well, if you have nightmares here I can always sing you a lullaby."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."

"Let's put your things in the bedroom."

He led me through a door and into his small bedroom. It held a double mattress, a dresser, a small desk with a computer, and a large amount of clutter. My OCD traits kicked in, making me desperately want to clean up Syd's room for him, but I forced myself to just smile politely.

"Sorry about the mess." He pushed some of his clothes on the floor aside, as if that really took care of the messiness problem, making a small space for my things.

"What mess? I hardly notice," I said, but as soon as he wasn't looking I had my hand sanitizer out of my pocket and I was cleaning my hands.

"And the bathroom is through that door."

The bathroom door was open and white light shone out of it. Like the rest of his place, his bathroom could have used a good dose of soap and bleach. I was already feeling a bit grossed out.

"You'll have to come through here to use it. Don't worry about waking me up, I'm a heavy sleeper. Oh, I do have one luxury." He led me back into the main room and out the back door. His backyard just seemed to fade into the forest. He had no fences, and no neighbors to speak of. On the back porch was a small Jacuzzi. "It wasn't working when I bought the place but I fixed it up."

"Cool."

"I hope ya come to consider this your home, Jakey. You'll be spending a lot of time here, and you'll never be unwelcome, I promise ya that. Ya know I ain't got any family left. You and your brother are all I've got. And I'm damned lucky about that."

His sentiment made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I wanted to say something touching in response, but I was at a loss for words. After a moment, he led me back into the house where he was starting to cook a major lunch.

"Let me help you with that," I said.

"Nope, not today, today you're my guest. I actually have a date later tonight so I won't be around for dinner. Sorry, you came a day earlier than I expected, and I'm not one to let down a lady friend."

"Hey, it's perfectly cool, Syd, I'll keep myself occupied."

"So I thought we could eat a big lunch, then we could tour around the lake if the rain stops."

And so as he cooked and I watched him cook we took the opportunity of catching up. He told me about his job here and his latest string of ex-girlfriends (Syd had always been a bit of a womanizer), and I told him about my first semester in college, leaving out some of the more depressing aspects. Able to watch him without him watching me, I looked down and noticed the very large, round bulge under his belt buckle in the crotch of his blue jeans. It was so large, I wondered if it was real or not. Believe it or not, I had known cowboys in high school who stuffed their crotches with balled-up socks in order to excite the girls. It was absolutely silly, in my opinion, and I wondered if Syd had learned the same habit.

It made me laugh that he still wore his cowboy hat indoors while he cooked, though he finally removed it as we sat down at his small table to eat.

I was expecting Syd's lunch to be as messy and disorganized as his house, but I was surprised how tasty his down home cooking turned out to be. I mean, it was anything but gourmet, Syd's cooking abilities didn't extend beyond the simplest of ingredients: he didn't know a scallion from a scallop. But he used his simple ingredients effectively, serving up grilled meats, veggies, and potatoes. "Wow Syd, this is pretty good. Not at all what I expected from you."

He smiled. "And what would that be? A cold can of beans and microwaved hotdogs? That may be how I eat when I'm by myself, but I've always known how to cook nice-like when the occasion called for it. How `bout you, Jakey? You know yer way around a kitchen?"

"I'm no Iron Chef, but I'm a pretty good cook," I said.

"I find the ladies love that skill," he said, his smile twisting mischievously. "I'm sure you've realized the same." He took a long swill from the bottle of beer he was drinking. I had never thought of beer bottles as anything sexy, but the way his manly lips caressed the rim of the bottle, took a long swig, then pulled away, while his tongue licked the liquid off his lips, well it was amazingly hot.

After lunch, the downpour had only gotten worse outside, so he gave me a rain check for touring the town. We were both tired after that big meal, so I agreed when he suggested we just watch a movie on his TV.

"I don't get good reception and I ain't got cable, but I got a player and some old movies. Why don't you pick one out that you want to see?"

I agreed, and he got another beer while I perused the movies. The vast majority of Syd's film collection consisted of old westerns, most of which I had not seen. I picked one, The Searchers, and put it on. We both sat down on opposite sides of the couch as the movie started. "Oh, this is a good one," he said, taking a swig of beer.

With his eyes focused on the TV, it was easy enough for me to look at him without him noticing. He had put his boots on the coffee table, his legs crossed at his ankles. And he had thrown his hat off, leaving his short, sandy hair an adorable mess.

I realized again how horny I was. I stared in awe at his muscular arms and shoulders, so tan. I noticed the hair of his armpit sticking out of the crevice between his bicep and pectoral. Noticed the light brown, curly chest hair peeking out from the top of his white tank. No, this was ridiculous. I turned my head firmly towards the TV.

After a while, he kicked his boots off and grabbed the pillow that was intended for me.

"Do ya mind if I use your pillow, Jakey? I'm kinda falling asleep."

"No, go ahead."

He curled up with the pillow on the armrest of the couch, planting his bare feet against my thigh, as he was too big to curl himself up anymore than that. Even though they were just his feet, the feeling of him touching me, even through my pants, was so soothing. I looked at his big, sexy, tan feet, and his muscular, slightly hairy calves, which disappeared into the legs of his jeans.

Syd went from groggy to dozy to outright conked out, and even though the film was engrossing, I felt it was only fair to turn it off an continue it another time.

"Syd, I'm stopping it here."

Nothing. I nudged his foot.

"Syd!"

He woke up, yawning. "See, wasn't it good? I think it's nap time for me."

He lazily got up and headed towards his bedroom. "Is there anything at all you need? Just come into the bathroom whenever you need to, like I said I'm a heavy sleeper. You might want to check out the casinos yourself tonight. And if you're really daring you might even want to take a trip into Reno."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."

"Oh, and Jakey? I'm glad you're here."

"So am I, Syd."

He went to bed with a smile on his face, the loving, warm smile.

After reading for a bit, I decided I would go to Reno after all, but first I needed to shower and change. I opened the door to his bedroom cautiously and peered inside. He was sleeping under a mound of covers in his bed. I crept to my bag, removed what I needed, and went into the bathroom. I noticed that the bathroom door didn't have a lock on it. I cleaned out the shower as well as I could before jumping in.

Thoughts of Syd's body flashed through my mind. I felt guilty about them--Syd was the sweetest guy and totally straight. I wanted to jack off, that always curbed my libido, but it felt disrespectful to do that here. I left Syd's place for Reno. I had already looked up a gay bar there online, and I knew I'd be completely incognito in a city where no one knew me. It would be a thrilling night.

I swirled the ice around my glass, looking for the last drop of soda. Amazingly, I had gotten into the club without getting carded, but I didn't want to push my luck by ordering alcoholic drinks. And anyway, I still had to drive home that night. I sat alone at a table in the bar, drinking my fourth soda. There weren't too many guys there--of course it was a weeknight. I had yet to speak with any patrons. I needed to get up, to make the first move. Nobody was just going to come up to me while I was just sitting there.

Just as I pushed away from the table I noticed a man standing close to me. "Hey," he said as I nodded hello. He was young looking, probably around my age, and he was handsome, the best looking gay guy I could remember. I don't know why I didn't notice him before. His face had soft, very beautiful edges; he was a major pretty boy, with pale porcelain skin, high cheekbones, and full lips. Unlike anyone else I had seen so far in Reno, he was totally goth... or was it emo? I never could tell the difference. His hair was either dyed black or the color was natural, and it was a glam mixture of spikes and strands that looked kind of anime in appearance. As impressive as it was, all I could think about was how long it must take him to do his hair each day. His eyes had a whole lot of black makeup: black eyeliner and black mascara. His clothes were black as well, very goth/glam in style, breathtaking, in fact. He had black fingernails and numerous chains on. He was slim, but seemed sturdy, and a little shorter than I was.

"Oh, hi," I said, taken a little off guard.

"I'm Victor," he purred the name, all silk. "With a k."

"Nice to meet you, Viktor with a k," I said, thinking the spelling of his name was just a bit pretentious. "I'm Jake. With a k as well."

He sat down at my table and pointed at my drink. "Can I get you another?"

"It's just Sprite," I said. "And I'm good, thanks."

He seemed almost offended. "Good heavens, that won't do. Let me buy you a real drink."

"No thanks, I have a long drive ahead of me tonight." I wondered if he thought I was being rude. "Not that I am trying to imply that I am not interested in you. I know turning down someone's drink usually means that, but in my case, I'm just not interested in the drink, though I'm perfectly interested in you."

"Ha, you're a dear," he said. He sat down at the stool next to me. "Where do you live, that's so far away you're forced into abstinence tonight?" he asked.

"I'm here for the holidays at Tahoe," I said. "But I'm a student at UC Berkeley."

"Oh, a scholar. Where you pay to get brainwashed, is that it?"

"I don't think--"

"I'm just fucking around. I like you, you're a fresh face. Do you have much experience in these kinds of places?"

"No, not really."

"You're innocent. I like that."

By this time I was sure he was coming on strong. He might not have been my exact type, but I wasn't in any position to be picky. Besides, he was so good-looking, half the guys in the room were staring at him, waiting for him to leave me so that they could try their luck with him. "What about you? Is this your haunt?"

"This is a shithole. This whole town is a shithole. Decaying rot."

That's sort of how the conversation went on from there, with me being courteous and him being cryptic and heavy. Eventually I told him I needed to use the john and went to piss out my all of the sodas I had consumed.

The bathroom was spacious but filthy, enough to make me nauseous. I found a moderately clean stall and started to let loose. As I looked down at my right hand holding my dick, another hand reached around from behind me and grabbed it as well. Crap, I hadn't heard anyone else come into the bathroom. I jumped, startled, and piss landed outside of the bowl before I recovered.

"You looked like you needed a hand," Viktor whispered smoothly into my ear from behind. I processed the fact that his was the first male hand to touch my penis sexually.

"This may come as some surprise, but I've actually done this before." I pulled away from him and finished up. When I had zipped up, he was still standing behind me, smirking. "Look, I need to take things more slowly. Can you handle that?"

"I can handle anything you throw my way."

"Good," I said. "I'm leaving for tonight. Here, let me give you my cell number."

I scribbled it down for him after we left the bathroom.

"Goodbye, innocent one," he said in his creepy tone of voice.

When I got back to the house, I noticed a woman driving away in a sedan. Probably the end of Syd's date. I wondered if he had gotten lucky. Probably so. One of the things I remembered most about him when I was little is that women threw themselves at him incessantly. No wonder, he was every woman's fantasy, the smoking hot cowboy.

The living room light was on when I came into the house but Syd was in his bedroom. I could hear the shower running. I needed to shower as well, to get the smell of smoke off of me, so I watched TV until I heard the shower turn off and Syd get into bed. I entered the dark room quietly, and Syd quickly turned on a bedside lamp.

"Don't worry, I'm not asleep yet," he said. He was sitting up in bed with his bedcovers pulled up around his waist. Instantly my eyes roamed over his bare torso, which was still slightly damp from his shower. Holy crap, it was the first time I had seen him shirtless, and boy, did it live up to my expectations. The counters of his well-developed pecs and abs, his nipples, the light amount of hair traveling from his chest down beneath the covers. His body put underwear models to shame, I realized. Seeing no sign of underwear or PJs, I wondered if he was naked under those covers. "Did you have a good time in Reno, Jakey?"

"Yeah, I enjoyed myself."

"You met a girl there, ain't ya? I can see it in your face," he smirked at me, and I just smiled, embarrassed. If he only knew. "I knew it! Well don't ya think you can go back there tomorrow night. I ain't got any plans and I want us to spend it together. I have to go into work for only a couple hours in the morn,' so you can meet me in town. I'll show ya around real proper, how `bout it?"

I agreed, said goodnight, and went into the bathroom for my shower. It was still steamed up from Syd's shower, and as soon as I entered it I noticed an odd smell. I looked around for its source, and then noticed the garbage. In it was a large used condom. That confirmed it, Syd had gotten laid that night. I noticed a very large amount of liquid inside, surrounded by the clear latex. Normally such a sight would gross me out, as I was a total neat freak, but this time I got the strange urge to touch it. It was such a large condom, it must have been an XXL size. Either Syd must really be hung, or he liked his ego stoked, something I would not put past him. What I did know for sure was that Syd was a major cummer, as evidenced by the very large amount of liquid in that thing. Syd, you stud, way to fill up an XXL condom with semen. Feeling weirded out, I resisted the urge to play with the condom. I set the shower a little colder than usual, and got ready for bed.

After I had made my bed on Syd's couch, I kneeled on the floor with my hands clasped together around the cross I wore around my neck. I prayed like I did every night before bed, mentally thanking God for my blessings, only this time, when I got to the part where I asked God to look over my loved ones, a name that hadn't been in my prayers for a long time reappeared: Syd Logan.

DECEMBER 12th

The next morning, after spending the first couple of hours alone at Syd's, occupying myself with taking a run outside by the sparkling shoreline, followed by using Syd's computer to peruse ESPN, adjust my fantasy football lineup, and respond to e-mails from Ahmad, Martine, and my mother, come late morning I shut down Syd's laptop in his room, noticing for the first time a guitar case in the corner, hidden among the horrible mess of his piles of clothes. What was that about? I'd have to ask Syd about that later.

I drove my car to South Lake Tahoe, where I knew Syd worked, and met him at a park by the beautiful lakeshore. He came driving up in his pickup truck. I laughed, knowing that even if Syd's commute was only minutes long and he never, ever needed to haul anything, he would never buy a sensible car with good gas mileage. He was a red-blooded Texan through and through, who always applied the "bigger is better" theory even to things like car choices. Even though I was an environmentalist, no amount of scolding him had ever changed his mind. I tried not to let this upset me.

I waved as he got out of his truck and walked towards me, his cowboy boots clanking against the pavement. He was wearing what he always wore: cowboy shirt and jeans. His shirt was rolled up at the sleeves, showing off his nice biceps, and the top few buttons were left open, showing off his blonde-fur covered upper pecs nicely. The few women in the park were already staring down this sexy man.

As he got closer, I could not help but look down at the crotch of jeans, which was amply filled out by his package. I thought I could make out a large, soft stalk tucked down and forward in his crotch, over two bulging testicles on either side. Was Syd even wearing underwear under those jeans?

"Hey, Jakey," he said as he surprised me again by pulling me into a hug. Was that going to be a normal form of greeting with him, then? If so, I wouldn't mind one bit. My heart once again swelled as he held me close to him. Then, my dick followed suit as I felt so many powerful muscles, each one as hard as rock, pushing against my comparatively softer body.

I inhaled, smelled a mixture of sweat, cigarette smoke, and cologne. Some bad emotion flashed through my mind. It's odd how scents can trigger emotions, sometimes more vividly than anything your head does. It took me a moment to process why I had such a strong negative reaction to this smell, then I realized. Sweat, the smell of cigarettes... all that was missing was the strong smell of alcohol, and that was the smell of my dad. It was not a pleasant memory.

No, I would not let myself go there. There was also the strong smell of cologne here. My dad never wore cologne. I concentrated on that smell, Syd's distinct smell, and I was blissful again.

But this time, the hug didn't linger like it had upon the first day of my arrival. It was more of a friendly, manly greeting, and Syd pulled away much too soon, and I had to collect myself quickly.

"Did you change after work, or do they let you wear your John Wayne getup there?" I asked him.

"Oh, I get paid extra for it. You know I only bartend at western bars," he said.

"The divier, the better, right Syd?"

"Hell yes," he said, flashing his charming smile. "Lord knows I ain't ever gonna bartend in no posh club. Could you imagine? Me in a tie? Uh-uh. I wouldn't even know how to make those trendy people their fancy city drinks. Hope you didn't get too bored there at my house. Place must be awfully lonely without me there."

I laughed, thinking of how egotistical that sounded. "You might find it hard to believe, but the world does go on, even when you're not there," I joked.

He smiled his half, charming smile. "Oh, it may limp on, but the world ain't half as fun without me in it," he said.

I laughed, knowing he was at least partially right. Syd had always had a good-natured cockiness to him, but that was part of his charm.

As we walked along the lake, I looked out, admiring the deep blue waters, surrounded my green hills, which turned white as they went up in elevation. It really was magically beautiful, and very easy to understand why Syd had moved here. He had always been a fan of natural beauty.

My reverie was interrupted be the sound of a lighter. I whipped around to see Syd, totally oblivious to the beautiful scenery, lighting a Marlboro in his mouth with a huge Zippo. I got angry. "Oh great, just what paradise needs, a cloud of toxic smoke. I had hoped you quit those by now."

"One thing Pa taught me was to never be a quitter," he said, as he took a long drag.

"Ha ha," I said. "You won't be cracking jokes when you are dying of cancer. Actually, I take that back. You probably will be, knowing you."

He laughed. "Ah yes, Mr. Worst-Case-Scenario shows his ugly face again," Syd said.

"Mr. who?"

"Mr. Worst-Case-Scenario. That's what I always called you as a kid, `cause you would always be convinced that the worst possibly outcome would come true. You were obsessed with safety. Hell, you were lecturing adults to look both ways before we crossed the street, or end up smashed to pieces by a fast car, up until you were ten. You would make poor Jerry hold your hand even if you were just crossing the driveway."

I laughed, "I'm not a pessimist, Syd. I'm just a realist. Studies show that you smoking that cigarette will cut your life short by at least a decade."

He shrugged. "I don't want to die an old, skinny man with shriveled balls sick in bed," he said. "Lord no. I want to die while my body is still muscled and my dick can still get hard. Preferably while fucking."

"Well, that's another reason to rethink those cigarettes," I said. "Your risk of impotence skyrockets."

"Believe me, I don't need any help in that department. Never left any lady unsatisfied."

There was no point arguing with him, it was just making me angry. I had tried to convince him to quit as a boy to absolutely no avail.

Syd wanted to take me on a scenic lake drive, so we decided to leave my car there and take his truck together. As he led me to his truck, I couldn't help but check out his taut, muscular butt in those form-fitted jeans.

As we started to drive off in his large truck, I buckled my seatbelt, but noticed he didn't bother to buckle his.

"You're going to buckle your seatbelt, right?" I asked him.

"No I aint," he said. "Never have buckled up, and never will. Don't care how many tickets they try to give me."

I was shocked. "It's not about avoiding tickets, Syd," I said. "It's about avoiding dying."

"Thanks for the advice, Mr. Worst-Case-Scenario," he said. "Don't worry, I'm an excellent driver. Almost as good with a truck as I am with a horse."

"That's not the point," I said. "What happens when some other bad driver hits you? You can't prevent that. You're just determined to be reckless with your life, aren't you?

"That's right, Jakey," he said. "I like living on the edge of death and disaster. `Cause not buckling your seat belt is just like jumpin' outta some plane with no parachute, ain't it?"

"Well, did you know that studies show that the person who doesn't buckle their belt isn't just endangering their own life?"

"How do ya mean?"

"A person without a seatbelt is much more likely to hit any passengers who are buckled, making the buckled passengers much more likely to die in an accident as well. What do you think about that?"

He looked highly annoyed. Then, huffing angrily, he reached over and buckled his seatbelt. He didn't even seem to know were the buckle was at first; I doubted he had ever used it before. "I'm only doing this for your safety," he said to me. "Don't think this change of heart will last the second you leave the truck."

"I wouldn't expect that, you're much too stubborn," I said.

"Almost as stubborn as you," he countered.

As we drove around the lake, I noticed that Syd was a fast driver, even though this was supposed to be a scenic drive, and there was absolutely no hurry. I wondered if he was capable of going slowly. His truck was a manual, and as we went through a lot of stops, he had to quickly go through all the gears as he accelerated. I would never want a manual transmission around there with all the mountains, and besides, I didn't know how to drive a manual, but Syd, I knew, hated automatics.

After the wonderful drive, we ended up right back where we started; in the parking lot of the park on the south side.

"How `bout you and I mosey on over to my favorite steakhouse in town and get us some lunch?" Syd asked me.

I agreed, and soon we were "moseying" down the streets of the little town. It was just passed noon, and there was actually a good amount of people walking down the streets, going about their business. There seemed to be a good amount of tourists in town, but there were plenty of locals too. In fact, a lot of them seemed to know Syd. Guys greeted Syd as if he was the coolest of their bar buddies, joking and patting the guy on the back. Syd introduced me as his nephew, which always drew strange looks, as the two of us couldn't look more dissimilar.

The women who came up to Syd treated him entirely differently. As soon as they spotted him, they would all adopt a slinky strut, trying to show off all of their assets.

"Hi Syd, baby," said one blonde that passed us, oozing on the forced sultriness, which did nothing but make her seem silly.

"Hi Jennifer," he said, staying totally cool as we kept walking past.

"Call me!" she said.

"I'm guessing you've had sex with her?" I said as soon as she would out of range of my voice.

"Haven't bed her yet, but it won't be long," he said.

"Hey sexy!" said a hot Asian woman.

"Hi darling," he said in return as we walked by her.

"You've slept with her?" I asked.

"No. I would, but she's married, and I don't cross that line."

Another woman passed us, a busty red-head who couldn't have been more than a couple years older than I was.

"Hi Syd," she said. "I've been thinking about you."

"Not as much as much as I've been thinking about you, darling," Syd said.

The woman's face turned as red as her hair, and we kept walking on.

"That one I've bed," he said to me.

"Yeah, I kind of guessed that."

On our way to the restaurant, several more women who passed us blushed completely as they passed Syd, their minds going back to what seemed like some very fond memories, and I knew exactly how to tell which women Syd has slept with. Even the women who had never laid eyes on Syd before totally were swept up in his spell as we passed them, no matter what age they were or what company they kept.

"How many women have you slept with, Syd?" I asked.

"I don't know," he said. "I've lost count long ago. Hundreds, probably."

"Doesn't that ever make you feel, I don't know. Cheap or anything?" I wasn't trying to be rude, I just was curious.

"No, what's the harm in a little fun between adults?" Syd asked. "The women enjoy it just as much as I do. And it's not like I just use em up and toss em like a dirty hanky. I love each and every one of them in their own way. I see them more than once, I just don't ever let things get serious. I end things before they ever get their hopes up."

"And you never once wanted to settle down?" I asked.

"Nope," he said.

The steakhouse we went to was nice in a casual, downscale kind of way. The food was good but the ambience was simple. It felt a lot more Texas than San Francisco, which suited Syd perfectly.

Syd ordered his steak rare, flirting like crazy with our waitress. I ordered mine well done, without the flirting. When the food came out, Syd didn't just shovel his food into his mouth like some slobs I knew in college. He ate like he was trying to impress a girl on a dinner date, cutting pieces off with his silverware and chewing slowly, with his mouth closed.

One striking difference between us became obvious as we both cut into our steaks. "Ugh," I said, making a face as I became grossed out by his steak. "Look at how rare that thing is. It might as well be raw. It's disgusting."

Syd laughed. "The only thing that's disgusting on this table is your charred piece of meat over there. You know that chef's recommend rare steak in order to capture the flavor."

"You might be capturing the flavor by eating it uncooked, but you'll be capturing the E coli as well. Tonight you'll probably be capturing extreme intestinal distress."

When the check came, both Syd and I grabbed for it, but Syd was faster.

"I got this, Jakey."

"No, I wanted to pick it up, to thank you for hosting me."

"That's nice, kid, but it ain't cheap and you are a broke college kid."

I laughed. "So, you're not exactly loaded yourself, Syd. We can split it."

"Too late, I've already paid," he said, handing his money to the waitress.

"Thanks Syd," I said.

"No problem."

"You know, it's been a while since I've been around working class folks, like I grew up with. No one that I knew in college came from a poor family like mine. And most of my friends were totally loaded. I would always think about my finances, while they never even had to worry. And there was always the fear that they would want to do things that I couldn't afford to do with them. The bay area is not cheap. It feels good not to have to worry about that with you, Syd. We both come from the same background."

"Yeah, the broke as shit background," he said. "But I ain't complaining. Nothin' better than to live check to check, in my view. The more you got, the more you worry. Fuck, Biggie was onto something."

I had no idea who he was talking about, but his message was clear. "I wish I could adopt your outlook," I said. "But being poor growing up, it weighed on me. No kid should have to worry about if his family could really afford to spend the milk money his parents gave him."

"Your daddy may not have been a rich man, but at least he provided a steady, stable income for your family. That's about all he provided, but still."

"Yeah," I agreed. "When Dad died, things were much better in a lot of ways for my family. Aside from bickering between Mom and Jerry, our home was much, much happier and more loving with Dad's absence. Mom provided us with a sound emotional rearing. She was always really good at that."

"Yes, she was," Syd said.

"But she struggled in other areas. She was not a strong financial supporter of our family. When my dad was alive and working, he provided most of the income. She would often be waitressing at some restaurant or another, but the jobs never lasted long. In some ways, she wasn't mature enough to ever develop any sort of real career."

"We all have our faults, Jakey."

"When Dad was killed, our main source of income went with him. I'll give my mom credit; instead of giving into her depression, she got another waitressing gig, and this time, she took it seriously. She still works on that café today. But it's hard to raise a family on one waitressing job. During my free time as a teenager, I always helped out, first mowing lawns, and then working minimum wage type jobs. But she never wanted me to work, told me that I should be out living my life."

"Best damn advice I ever heard," Syd said.

After lunch, Syd showed me around the casinos real fast. Though he loved to gamble, casinos aren't that fun for anyone under 21. And even if I had been legal, I wouldn't have been stupid enough to waste what little money I had in any game of chance's where statistics are rigged against your favor. Even if I had money to spend, I knew I wouldn't ever be a gambler.

Syd apparently loved to play... you guessed it: Texas Hold `em. But he didn't have time for poker, instead opting to play a couple hands of blackjack while I stood to the side, watching him throw away his hard earned money.

When we got back to Syd's place, Syd went in his room to change out of his clothes. He came out in his version of PJs: white tank and textured, white-cotton long johns. I hadn't seen anyone wear long johns before, I supposed they were a cowboy thing. I had never thought of long underwear as sexy, but on Syd, anything was sexy. Instead of loose fitting pajama bottoms, these were skin-tight, showing off every curve of his muscular legs beautifully.

As he faced away from me, I enjoyed the long johns from behind, the white fabric showing off his large calves, then widening out over his thick, hard hamstrings, which turned into the perfect two semi- circle mounds of his perfectly shaped butt. The white fabric hugged his backside, but he didn't have a wedgie. His butt was muscular enough so that the top of the long johns waist didn't completely cover him, leaving a bit of crack exposed.

When he turned to face me, I got treated to his dense quads, the tight fabric showing off every muscle fold. And I was treated most of all to the sight of a huge package, completely filling up all the space offered by the dick-slit of the long john's crotch. Darn, I wanted to see it unobstructed so badly.

Of course looking at him was getting me totally hard, so I went into his room to distract myself from these lust-filled thoughts, and I caught sight of his guitar. Once my dick had gone down, I fetched the instrument out to him.

"What is this?" I asked, holding the guitar out in front of me.

"Now Jakey, I know you've seen one of those before. It's called a guitar."

"Is this just a prop that goes along with the cowboy décor of your place, or do you really play?"

Syd smiled. "I really play, cross my heart. And sing too. I mean, I never put on a concert or anything. Just pull it out whenever I really want to impress one of the ladies."

"I didn't know you played!" I said, excitedly. "What kind of music do you sing?"

"I'll give you one guess."

"Country?"

"Yessir."

I was not a fan of country, having to hear all sort of terrible country all the time growing up in Chattanooga, starting with the honky-tonk my dad would blare on his radio. "Ah, cool," I said in any case, not wanting to disappoint him. "What songs?"

"I make up my own songs."

"Really? You can do that?" I found creativity in others such an alien phenomenon because it was so absent in me.

"Sure! It's not hard. Country is a genre with not a whole lot of chords."

"What are your songs about?" I asked.

"Well, Jakey, I'll give you a hint. Almost all of my songs are named after women."

"Can I hear one?" I asked.

"I usually only play for the ladies," he said, hesitating.

"I don't care," I said. "Just play me the last song you wrote."

"Well, alright then," he said. He removed the guitar from its case, played a little until he seemed certain it was in tune, and then started to strum the first notes of his song. His fingers were fast and talented. Then he started to sing.

I burst into laughter, and he stopped.

"You're laughing at me," he said, annoyed.

"No, just because it was so weird to hear you sing so well. You sound like a professional. I would have never guessed. Please, continue."

"Okay, but you laugh again and show's over."

"I won't laugh."

He started over again, and this time when he sang, I was keeping myself composed. He sounded as good as any country singer I had heard. His western, deep voice was the perfect instrument for his song. Though I never liked country, this song was in no way grating, and I found myself kind of falling in love with it. He locked eyes and smiled at me when he sang, and it almost felt as though he was singing about me. Or, at least that's what I would have wished, and the fantasy lasted until he addressed me as "Lila" and said I was "one fine woman." It was a slow song, about this girl Lila, and it had a lot of passionate sexual metaphors without being overtly lewd. If there ever was a woman who could resist all of Syd's great many charms, surely she would fall as soon as she was serenaded to, and I found myself madly jealous of whoever Lila was.

Sadly, the song ended, and Syd put down the guitar. "Please, play me more!" I begged.

"I never agreed to a whole set, just one song."

"Syd, that song was amazing. If any of your other songs are as good, how come you don't try to get out there and make this a profession? People would eat this stuff up."

"Ah, I don't know," he said. "Not everyone wants to be famous, Jakey."

"I would never want to be famous," I said. "I hate being in the limelight, and I don't care how many people know my name. But you, Syd. You seem like you would love the fame." Syd was a bit of a narcissist, and I couldn't imagine him not appreciating the devoting fans. "Think about how many beautiful women you'd meet."

"True, that doesn't sound so bad," he said. "But I don't know. I guess I just think of this as some private, personal side to myself. Something I only share with those I care about. I don't want it to become so public." He put his guitar down. "How `bout we finish the movie that I bailed on yesterday?" he asked me, and didn't wait for a response. He looked me up and down. "You're lookin' way too proper-like in that button-up. Why don't ya put on yer PJs like me? Get more comfy?"

I agreed, and went into his room to change. I really didn't have any proper PJs with me. I had just been sleeping in a small pair of shorts, but I wasn't too thrilled about going out there shirtless, he might get the wrong idea. But he had surely seen me sleeping in the morning with my shirt off, so he would be expecting that. I changed into my shorts, leaving the shirt off, and headed for the living room.

He had resumed the movie where we had left off and I sat down. He didn't seem to notice that I was half-naked, which was fine by me. A short ways into the movie he curled up in the same position he had been in the day before, with his head on my pillow and his feet against my thigh. Just this simple touch was electrifying, and this time his feet were against my bare skin. As they moved and shifted during the movie, I loved the feeling of my leg hair rubbing under his skin and in between his toes.

Towards the end of the film I was fighting to keep my eyes open. He must have noticed me drifting off, because he said, "there's enough room on the couch for both of us. Go ahead and stretch out, Jakey."

Obliging, I put my own feet onto the couch as he sat up. I lay my head on my armrest, my body on my side facing the TV.

"Here, put your legs like this so we can both be comfortable," he said as he pulled my feet towards him so that they were between his back and the back of the sofa. He then lay down on his side with his head on the opposite armrest and he stretched his legs out so his feet were right at my throat. "Can you see?"

"I'm fine," I responded. I was thrilled at the extra skin to skin contact this was creating.

He leaned back into my legs, putting some weight on them, and rested his right arm over my left calf as he patted it reassuringly. This sort of affection was completely normal for him. His bare feet were planted against my chest. They felt warm, and it was unbearable to have his toes so close to my mouth. This position also created a lot of contact between my crotch and his butt. I started to get hard--afraid he'd feel me poking him, I squeezed my butt against the back of the couch as much as I could, putting a few inches between my dick and him.

The movie finished too quickly. He was conked out again, but awoke as soon as I turned off the TV. "Nap time for me," he said, going into his bedroom.

"You're like an old man, Syd," I teased. "Always needing his afternoon nap."

"Hey, you weren't the one pouring shots at six in the morning for our all nighters," he said.

I wasn't sleepy enough for a nap, so I went outside for a hike instead since the day was unseasonably warm and sunny. I spent more than an hour of the afternoon exploring trails in the mountains behind Syd's house on my own, which was a major pleasure. When I got back in the late afternoon, Syd wasn't in the house, but I found him working out in the backyard, so I went to greet him.

He was facing away from me at the edge of his yard, using a machete to hack at some overgrown tree branches, cutting them back. He was wearing just a pair of jeans and a cowboy hat. I watched him work for a moment, admiring the large, knotted muscles of his sweaty, tan back flex as he hacked with his largely muscled right arm. I could see lines of sweat drip down his back.

"There must be better ways to release your anger, Syd," I joked.

He stopped the hacking and turned around to face me, his handsome face smiling wide. "I can think of some that I like better, but I'm too busy hanging with my nephew to go out on any dates."

As he faced me, my eyes took in the sight of his bare upper body. His skin was tan, but the sweat that covered his skin was causing a layer of light dust to stick to most of his body. This dust enveloped his muscles beautifully, showing them off. His two perfect, large pecs and his very tasty looking nipples were all covered with dust. The dust matted into his sandy-blonde chest hair, the treasure trail of fur that went down the middle of his robust abs, swirling around his belly button, then widening out some as it went towards his pubes.

Syd wasn't wearing his typical belt and belt buckle this time, and the result was that Syd's jeans had sagged down as he worked, something he must not have realized. Looking down, I was embarrassed and excited to see the front of his jeans pulled down so that the swirling, dense patch of his pubes were visible. His bush, also sweaty from the work, had a layer of dust stuck to it as well. Syd either was not wearing underwear under those jeans, or they too were sagging so much that I couldn't see them.

As I pondered that question, I saw something that made my heart jump: the base of Syd's dick was just visible beneath his bare pubes. It was very thick as it pushed down into his jeans, and I could see the wrinkled skin of the top of his ballsack poking out from both sides of the base shaft.

My dick instantly pulsed hard seeing this. In order not to embarrass myself, I had to force my eyes away from that awful tease of what looked to be a glorious dick, and back to his face. He had a cigarette hanging from his lips again, something that I found to be equal parts annoying and hilarious.

"You're the only person I've ever seen smoke while they did physically intense yard work," I teased. "I bet you won't even workout without a Marlboro between your lips."

"I s'pose so," he said. "That's why I got kicked off my football team in high school. Coach didn't like the smoke coming out of my helmet come game day." He tossed the machete aside, stamped down his cigarette, and started walking towards the house. "Anyway, I'm done here, and kripes, it's late. You must be starvin.' I'll just throw on some clothes real quick and then we can drive into town." He must have really wanted to make up for yesterday, because he was taking me out to two meals in one day.

As he walked into the house, I couldn't help but once again gawk at his muscular back. This time I noticed that, just as the front of his jeans had sagged down, so too did the back. I could see the crack of his muscular, tan butt as his jeans left exposed the top of his round cheeks.

I looked across the table of the rustic pizza parlor in town at Syd as he bit off a corner of his slice. He was wearing his going out clothes, his cowboy hat on his head and a thin-fabric cowboy shirt, the kind with snaps instead of buttons, a wide collar, and snapped pockets over the breasts. The shirt was tight enough to show off his muscles without being so tight as to seem like it was the wrong size. While I thought most guys would have worn a tank or a T under the western shirt, Syd was nude underneath. The shirt was buttoned up to the top of his wide pecs, leaving the top of his center chest exposed, the area where the crevasse of his pec muscles began. On me, that part of my chest was just flat, not having enough muscles to create such a valley, but on Syd that area looked very sexy, especially covered by his soft- looking, sandy chest hair. Even though the shirt was covering his nipples, the fabric was thin enough so that I could make them out, clearly poking out above the large chest muscles. He had his sleeves rolled up to his mid-upper arms, where the center of his bis stretched them out as wide was they would go. Beneath the sleeves, the exposed parts of his bis were covered with thick veins, and his large forearms, covered in fur, led to meaty, callused tan hands.

Man, I was so darn horny. Was every guy my age this horny, or was I made with an extra dose of sexuality, for some reason?

My cell rang, surprising me. "Hello?"

"Hey sweetheart." Nobody called me that except my mom, and unless she had the worst cold of her life, there was no way her voice got that deep. It took me a moment to realize that it was Viktor.

"Hey, hold on for a sec." I looked at Syd, hoping he did not hear Viktor's very male voice or what he had said. My face felt hot. "Hey Syd, I'm gonna take this call outside, okay?"

A knowing grin spread across his face. "You go right ahead. I'd never get in between a bud of mine and any fine lady who is interested in him. May not be any pizza left when you get back, though."

When I was safely outside by myself, I said, "I'm back. How've you been?"

"Lonely. Then again I'm always lonely. I thought I loved my loneliness until I met you, what do you think of that?"

I laughed. "Well, it's a lot more original than any pick-up line I've heard in quite some time."

"I'm so sick of all the tired, old sacks of meat here in Reno. I need fresh blood. When are you coming back?"

"I'm not sure," I said honestly.

"You said you wanted to take it slow, remember?"

"Yes, I remember."

"I thought we could get together. You could instruct me on taking it slow. In person." The tone of his voice was very suggestive, and it seemed clear he had something very different in mind when he talked about "taking it slow."

I wasn't sure what I wanted. I wasn't entirely thrilled about getting anymore serious with Viktor; he was definitely a little off. But Syd's constant presence was nothing short of torturous. I wanted so bad to get off, to have a quickie with Viktor and never look back. But I wasn't wired that way, I would regret it later. It was either a relationship with this guy or nothing at all, but did I want to be in a relationship with someone so intense?

Syd came out of the parlor, smiling at me. "Hey Jakey, I'm gonna have them box up the rest, you're done, ain't you?"

I got a full view of Syd's lower half. Syd was in a clean pair of cowboy jeans, his "L" belt buckle, and cowboy boots. As cowboy jeans tended to be, these were tight, showing off his thick thighs. Best of all, they showed off Syd's very large, rounded basket. My mind suddenly filled up with fantasies of how big of a dick it would take to make such a bulge.

"Yeah, thanks," I said to him.

He nodded and turned around to go back inside. Surrounded by his tight blue jeans was his muscular, perfect butt that I couldn't help stare at as he walked inside.

Like I said, I was too darn horny.

"Viktor? Yeah, I'd like to see you. I'll call you the next time I can get away."

"Excellent," he hissed. "Just make sure it's after dark. I'm not much of a day person."

"That's fine. Well, as long as you won't try to suck my blood," I joked.

"Hmph. No promises, sunshine."

Later that night, when we were both back home and he was getting ready for bed, I got another call on my cell.

"Hello?"

"Hey man." It was my little brother, Jerry. I was happy to hear his voice.

"Hey bro, isn't a little late out there?"

"I'm not calling from home." He was slurring his words; I could tell he'd been drinking.

"You out partying, bro?"

"Yeah man. Look, I wanted to call you to let you know I think it's totally fucked up that you're not coming home for Christmas." My heart sank.

"I wanted to but I couldn't afford it."

"You shoulda found a way. It's okay. I still love you anyway. But now I'll be forced to have Christmas dinner with Mom's new guy, Minister Douchebag, or whatever his name is."

"Is he really a minister?"

"No joke."

"Then I'm sure he's fine."

"I don't know, bro. He acts all nice and sweet when she's around, but just like Dad, as soon as she's gone, he gets this mean look in his eyes, ya know?"

"Just try to give him a chance, Jer. Try to remember that he's not really Dad."

"Yeah, whatever."

"I'm here with Syd. He's been talking about you a lot. Want me to put him on?"

"I don't know, I've been drinking."

"Syd doesn't care. Let me get him."

Without thinking I just opened his door and barged in. In front of me, lit up by the soft bedside lamp, was Syd. He was facing away from me, and had just pulled on a tight fitting T, which showed off the crevasse of his back muscles along his spine, as well as his wide lats.

My stomach lurched as I realized that sexy shirt was the only piece of clothing he had on. He was nude from the waist down, standing right in front of me. His smooth, perfectly muscular butt was a sight to behold, taking my breath away. Beneath the bottom of his shirt were two meaty, muscled buttcheeks, just a slightly lighter shade of tan than the rest of his legs. Beneath them, muscled, mostly hairless upper thighs spread apart, such beautiful legs. His leg hair thickened and lengthened around his knees and over his muscley calves, golden-blonde in color. His legs were just open wide enough for me to get a glimpse of the back of his hanging ballsack. Syd bent down in front of me and grabbed a pair of gym shorts off the floor. His wide, bare right foot lifted, and he stuck it through the shorts' leg opening. Holy crap, with his legs open I could just kind of see the massive unit--

"Yes, Jake?" he asked shortly, hearing me barge in behind him.

"Oh, sorry Syd, I'm such an idiot!" I said as I backed out of the room and he pulled up his shorts, never turning to face me. The whole event lasted for just a moment. I hadn't even gotten a good look at his dick, it had all been over too quick. I was absolutely obsessed now with seeing that thing.

Hmm, would he be pissed off that I hadn't even knocked?

He reappeared out of his room, this time with his shorts on. "Yeah, kiddo. What did you need?"

I almost forgot why I came into his room in the first place, and then noticed the phone in my hand. "Uh, I, I mean, Jerry's on the phone."

"Oh, alright." He came striding towards me, and lifted his hand upwards. It seemed like he was going to hit me, but just pressed his hand on my shoulder. "Jake, relax. Really, I'm not that modest." He grabbed the phone from me. "Hey Jerry, how ya doin?'" he asked, his loving, caring smile coming out again.

DECEMBER 13th

When I woke up in the morning Syd was gone. I decided to go for a morning jog to release some of my tension. As I was lacing up my sneakers Syd came home, a bag of groceries in his arms.

"You're not leaving, are you?" He sounded disappointed.

"No, just going for a jog. Do you want to come along?"

"No, I thought I'd cook us up some breakfast. Got eggs and bacon and all that good stuff."

Jogging in the woods isn't like jogging on cement. I felt animalistic, isolated. But it was colder than before, and my short-sleeve shirt wasn't cutting it. I went back to the house sooner than I had anticipated.

Outside I could smell the bacon and hear it sizzling from outside. I was too much of a health nut to eat bacon, but it sure did smell good when it was cooking. When I stepped inside, I wasn't surprised to see Syd, facing away from me, cooking in the kitchen. What surprised me was seeing Syd cooking in his underwear. A pair of white briefs.

"Oh, I didn't expect you to come back this quickly. I stripped down to my tighty whities so my clothes wouldn't get splashed with grease. Sorry."

"That's fine," I said. I was enjoying seeing his bare muscular back and thinly covered butt so much, I prayed that he wouldn't feel the need to put his clothes back on. His underwear clung so tightly to his behind. "It's impossible to get grease stains out of clothes," I said, trying to be encouraging.

"Yeah, I always cook like this. Just don't make the mistake of frying bacon in the nude. I've learned my lesson there, believe me. Here, sit down."

I sat at the table as Syd served me a plate of eggs and toast. As he did so, I sneaked a glance at his front. He had a huge package hanging in the pouch of his briefs. I could clearly see his meaty dick pushed neatly down in the middle of the pouch. My dick sprang to life right then. Luckily it was under the table.

"It was good to talk to Jerry last night," he said as he sat down to eat himself. "Too bad he's been stirring up so much dust. I don't want him to go down the same road as your father."

"I don't think that's possible. Jerry's not like Dad. He's a good kid, he just doesn't set limits for himself. Ever since I left... well you know my mom's not much of a disciplinarian."

"Yeah. You know, it's been a long time since I've talked to Jerry. He's never been there when I called, never tried calling me back. God knows I love him like family, but I've always been so much closer to you."

"We just have more in common. Jerry's always resented adults a little."

Syd stayed in his underwear like that all through breakfast, even as we did the dishes. It was very sexy to be so close to him when he was practically naked.

After he finally did put his clothes back on, the two of us headed into town to go to his gym, which had been my request. I needed balance in my life, and part of that balance meant getting regular exercise. And there was only so much jogging and hiking I could do before getting that gym urge. Besides, with a body like his, I knew Syd had to lift regularly. Turns out he had a membership at a nice health club. He said it was a great place for him to "scope out the hot ladies."

When we arrived, Syd led us straight into the men's locker room, which wasn't crowded, but had a few guys changing in it. I chose a clean locker, Syd chose a locker on the other side of the aisle of lockers that looked like it hadn't been cleaned in weeks, which he was maddeningly impervious to, and we started to undress.

I was just switching my pants and shirt without getting totally nude, and I kept an eye on Syd as he took off his cowboy clothes. He was facing away from me and towards his locker, so it was easy enough to watch him, just as long as none of the other guys around us noticed what I was watching.

Syd took off his boots, hat, and shirt, leaving his broad, tan back bare for me to see. I was close enough this time that I could see every freckle he had on him. Then he undid his belt and pulled off his jeans, leaving him in just his pretty white briefs. I could see every sandy hair on his buff legs.

He pulled down his briefs, and tossed them aside carelessly, not bothering to fold them up like I always did to my clothes. . There, so close to me then, was his perfect butt in all its tan, buff glory, the sides of the perfect globes concave with hard muscles. Glancing down, I could see his ballsack sticking out a bit from between his legs.

He pulled a white jock from his bag and slipped it on. His round butt cheeks were perfectly framed by two white straps.

He pulled a red pair of basketball shorts on and a white tank, then he was ready to hit the weights. I threw on my gym clothes and followed him onto the weight floor.

When I was in the gym, I trained intensely. I wasn't there to socialize. Syd was very much the opposite. He would lift some, then get distracted, usually by a woman he either knew or wanted to know, then lift some more. Luckily, he was doing a different set of body parts than me, so we mostly did our own thing. I did notice that when he was lifting, he wasn't aggressive like a lot of guys were. Instead of tackling the weights, he mostly just seemed to stay chilled out. In spite of that, he was lifting a whole lot of weight; which I knew he would be able to, given his big size.

When I finished my workout, it didn't seem like Syd had finished his, as he'd wasted a lot of time. Surprisingly, he said he was done as well, so we went to the locker room together, with me doubtful that he really managed to get an effective pump.

We both undressed at the same time, and as soon as Syd was back down to his jockstrap, I was admiring him from behind again.

"That's him right there," came a man's voice from nearby in the locker-room, to my right. "That's him, the sexual deviant."

I suddenly felt sick, thinking I had been caught by this guy checking out Syd's butt. My face went hot from embarrassment.

The guy came up to us, pointing at us, dragging along another guy. Both of them were in their gym clothes.

"That's him," the guy said, who I now realized was pointing at Syd.

Syd must have realized too, because he turned around to face the guy. "Huh, you talking bout me?"

"Yeah, I was," the man said firmly. "I was telling Stan that you were the guy who'd been banging all the girls who go here."

"Now gentlemen," Syd explained. "I'd hardly say ALL the girls."

"Well, all the hot ones anyway," the man said. "You're our hero, man."

"You get more pussy than a fuckin' rock star," said the other guy, Stan.

"Could you give us some pointers some time?" asked the first guy.

Syd looked somewhere between embarrassed and flattered.

"Well, sure, I don't see why not," Syd answered diplomatically.

As the two losers continued to gush over Syd, I couldn't help but check out the nice view I had of Syd's front in his jock. After the workout, his whole, muscular body was covered in a layer of slick sweat, which glistened in the brightly light locker room.

His balls and dick together really filled out the pouch of his jock, so mush so that his entire package didn't totally fit, causing bits of each nut to be forced out of both back edges of the front pouch. From what was visible, his balls looked huge to me. The pouch of his jock itself was a thin enough fabric so that I could make out clearly the large stalk of his soft penis, pointed downward, which mushroomed out into a wide head at the bottom.

Before I could look any further, the guys left Syd alone and he turned back to his locker, away from me, and he started to pull off his jockstrap. I turned and concentrated on my own undressing.

"Hey Jakey," Syd said, and I turned around to face him. He was wearing a white bath towel. "Want me to show you where the showers are?"

"Yeah, that sounds good," I said, grabbing my own bath towel.

"Just let me step on the ol' scale, real quick."

I watched Syd walk over to the scale, and instead of wearing his bath towel, he tossed it casually over a nearby bench, and then stepped on the scale totally nude. Goodness, he looked so beautiful from behind, all smooth skin and knotted muscle. Oh, how much I wanted to touch him.

I had to use all my efforts to keep myself from getting fully hard under my towel, and I pulled the towel extra tight against me just to make sure it stayed in line.

Syd stepped off the scale and grabbed his towel, but didn't actually pull it around his waist. He turned to face me, and I excitedly thought I might finally get a chance to see his penis unobstructed. But, it was not to be; he was holding his darn towel in front of him, which dangled down several feet between his legs, totally blocking my view of his dick. "Shower room's this way," he said.

"Cool," I said.

He turned around and led the way. When we got to the shower room door, he said, "After you, Jakey."

I started to open the door, but he put his strong hand on my shoulder (which I loved) and stopped me.

"Uh, Jakey," he said. "Ain't ya ever been in one of those before? People either go naked or wear a swim suit. See the towel hangers here?"

He lifted his own towel and placed it on the hanger by the door, where a couple other towels hung.

I perked up immediately. Was this finally going to be my chance to see his dick, after all this time? Here he was, standing right in front of me, naked. So close to me that I could small his sweat, feel his heat. His dick was down there in the open, just a few inches from my body, practically touching me. Too bad I couldn't see his dick at all; he was standing so close to me that it was impossible to see anything below his wide pecs. Sure, if I took a step back and looked down, there it would be. But I obviously couldn't do that while he was looking right at me.

And worse still, he was expecting that I would be able to leave my towel here and go into the shower room buck naked. Wow, was I even capable of staying soft now that he was nude?

I tried to keep my mind on non-sexual thoughts as I pulled my towel off and hung it on the rack next to Syd's.

"There we go," Syd said.

I was hoping that the showers might have been the old fashioned kind where everyone shares one room, but it turned out to be the modern type where everyone had their own stall. Having no good excuse to look at him as he walked behind me, I had to walk into one of the shower stalls. I supposed there could have been some chance I would have seen him showering if I had been across from him, but he ended up taking a stall next to mine. He finished his shower sooner than I did, and by the time I was out, he was all dressed in his cowboy duds, and I got dressed as well, disappointed.

He told me had to go into work for a couple of hours, but that he would be around for an early dinner. He dropped me off at his place before turning around for work.

Sitting around the house waiting for him to return almost seemed painful. I felt like I was being broken down by desire for Syd. I was the horniest that I had ever been in my life. Even when Syd was at work I was constantly thinking about him. When I was in his room I looked at his rumpled sheets and I wanted to strip naked and wrap myself inside, which was so out of my normal tolerance of unsanitary behaviors. I felt like I was losing my self-control with every passing day, and I had always prided myself on my self-control.

In the late afternoon, Syd called me to let me know that he would have to work late, that more customers were there than expected, and I shouldn't wait for him for dinner. I was oddly devastated that it would be several more hours before the object of my desire would be around again, and then I immediately realized how unhealthy thoughts like that were. I'm not one to sit around waiting for stuff to happen, so I took the opportunity to do something fun by myself. There was a hike listed online that went into the forest that was supposed to be pretty, so I decided to go check it out.

The trailhead turned out to be farther away from Syd's house than I thought, but when I got there, it was well worth the drive. The path formed a loop, going up through thick forest at first, and then ascending the hills where the trees eventually thinned out and provided great lake views at the top. At first, I was taking my time and enjoying all the scenery. A good amount of hikers either passed me going the opposite way as me, or passed me from behind as they were going faster than I was. When I reached the halfway point, I realized that it was later than I had anticipated, and I really tried to pick up the pace. I started to notice that I hadn't seen any other hikers for some time, and that made me worried that I was the only one who had not been smart enough to either start the hike earlier or take the hike at a more brisk pace.

When the sun went down and I was still in the thick forest, I was dismayed, but I knew I was fine. I had my hiking pack with me that had the ten essentials. I reached in and pulled out my flashlight, turning it on. The trail ahead was mostly flat and would be easily navigated with my light.

When I did go through clearings in the woods, looking up yielded quite a sight. The moon was full or close to it, and although there were scattered clouds in the sky, they kept free of the white orb. It was enough light to see the landscape without the help of my flashlight. But those clearings were few and far between, and it was amazing to see just how much darker the light was under those trees.

I was totally doing fine, but I did notice how creepy the woods were now that they were only lit by my paltry flashlight. It was such a striking contrast to the breathtaking beauty the woods held during the day. At night, all that wonderful color got seeped away into some dreary landscape straight out of The Blair Witch Project. Good thing I wasn't a wuss.

Maybe what they say about your hearing being more acute when your vision is limited is true; I heard some strange sound besides the usual forest noises and I listened harder as I walked.

Footsteps. The noises seemed to be footsteps.

I figured, wow, there must have been some poor hiker as stupid as I was. I spun around to look behind me, sure I would see a scared hiker or two.

There was no one behind me, no one at all. Yet, I could still hear the footsteps, only now I was certain I wasn't facing towards the sound.

I turned around again, back the way I was heading. Yes, the footsteps were getting louder in this direction. Wait, there couldn't be anyone just setting out on the hike now, could there be?

I could still hear the footsteps, but could see no hikers. Surely if there were hikers at this time, they would have flashlights with them, yet I couldn't see any flashlights.

But I wasn't sure if I would be able to see their flashlights with my own on, so I switched my flashlight off for a few moments.

At first, the darkness was blinding, and I could see nothing. Then, my eyes started to adjust.

There. I could make out the trail in front of me now, still in the dark. No sign of hikers, and definitely no flashlights.

And then I realized that the footsteps noises were gone. I hadn't even noticed when they stopped.

Appeased, I flipped my flashlight back on and resumed the walking. Now that I was slightly creeped out, I walked fast, my breath becoming hard and rapid in no time.

Suddenly, I got the chills, like an icy spirit walking through my soul.

I felt like something was eerily off. Something I was hearing was wrong.

I stopped my walking and listened.

Nothing. All I could hear were my own rapid breaths.

No, that wouldn't do. I forced myself to hold my breath, and listened again.

My stomach lurched as I realized I could still hear my breathing, even though I was holding my breath.

I could hear breathing. Someone else's, thick, heavy breathing. I felt panic.

I jumped as I heard a stick crack behind me. I spun around, pointed my flashlight at the trail behind me. A few yards away, there was a very large stick that was now broken. Only something either very strong or very heavy could break a stick that big, I realized.

But I didn't see anything on the trail.

I heard another stick break, this time to my right, off the trail and into the woods.

I whipped around in the direction of that sound, searching the dark crevasses between the trees with my flashlight.

With the trees so close to me, the flashlight was almost useless, just lighting up a tiny perimeter at a time. I had to move this perimeter around quickly, scanning every surface to see if anything was out of the ordinary.

Tree branch.

Moss covered trunk.

Branch.

Pine needles.

More branches.

A dark face.

I jumped back, terrified at what I had seen, and then wondering if it had been my imagination. I probably had just seen some shape on some tree and my imagination went wild.

I didn't want to turn the flashlight back in that direction, but I knew I had to.

Holding my breath, my hands shaking, I brought the flashlight back up to place where I had seen what had looked like a face of some sort.

Looking back at me were dark, evil eyes, black fur, and sinister white, shiny teeth. I was in absolute shock, completely terrified.

The creature emitted a loud snort, and I yelled and jumped, dropping the flashlight.

Now in darkness, I dropped down to grab the flashlight from the ground, but I froze at the sound of a low, guttural growl.

I turned and I ran down that trail, as fast as I could manage. That's what instinct told me I had to do to save my life.

As I ran, my normal logical self tried to take over this scared crapless side of me. My logical self told me that there was only one thing that creature could have been. It wasn't a monster, it was a bear.

Weren't you supposed to NEVER run when you see a bear? Shouldn't they be able to outrun you? Weren't you supposed to play dead and hope they'll get bored of mauling you on the ground before they actually kill you? And besides, it was never safe to run through woods, especially when there was no light, and you couldn't see anything. And in fact, I was stumbling as I ran, tripping over roots and cutting myself on branches.

But before all the reasonable actions could be performed, I saw what seemed like Heaven itself in front my me: the tree-line, the final ending of the woods.

Finally, I broke through the trees, and looked around anxiously to find the path that led to my car. Astoundingly, the landscape seemed almost as dark to my eyes as the woods had been. I couldn't see the path in the least, and I wondered why my eyes hadn't adjusted by now.

I looked up to the sky and found the answer for my problems. The night sky had been mostly clear before. Now, there were clouds covering the white moon, dampening out its bright light just when I needed it the most.

"Darn!" I said, searching everywhere in my field of vision for that trail but coming up empty handed. "Please go away clouds, please go away clouds, please go away clouds, please go way clouds, please..."

Suddenly, to my delight, the clouds started to part, the light already coming down much brighter. Huh, I supposed the cloud cover was just a temporary phenomenon.

I heard another crack of a breaking branch behind me, and I immediately resumed my run.

The field in front of me had become bathed in silvery moonlight, and that was all my eyes needed. I found the path I was looking for and ran off towards the direction of my car.

As soon as I started running again, I realized that I felt suddenly exhausted. It was odd, because I should have been more in shape. I guessed it must have been due to the anxiety, or maybe the altitude there.

I actually had to fight my body to keep it from falling over fainting, and I forced myself to reach my car. I fumbled for my car key, almost dropping it as my hands were shaking. I inserted the key into the car, opened the door, and got in.

I started that car up and drove out of the lot onto the street.

After I obviously knew that the bear wasn't a risk to me anymore, I pulled over, knowing it wasn't safe to drive while upset. I took deep breaths to calm myself down, then started the car again and drove back to Syd's.

Syd still wasn't home yet, so I looked myself over and tended all scrapes and cuts. No major damage.

It wasn't long before Syd came home. "Man, did my night suck," he said. "Some L.A. ladies came in and wanted all these obscure drinks with the weirdest names. I had to look all of them up." He looked me over. "How come you have a band-aid on yer face? Did you hurt yourself, or is that some form of hip-hop decoration?"

"The former," I said. "I took a hike out in the boonies, in the middle of the woods, and came across something after dark. It looked like a bear."

"A black bear? I've seen those guys around. Cute little things, ain't they?"

I shook my head. "This thing was not cute, and I don't think it was a black bear. This was way, way too big. A real beast. I would say it was a grizzly bear, but those aren't in California."

"Actually, I heard there are grizzlies around here. Not around the houses or anything, but out in the mountain forests."

"Wow, a grizzly bear," I said. "That must have been it. Those things kill solitary hikers all the time. I could have died."

"So, you're all scratched. Did it maul ya up? How did you escape its attacks?"

"Well, it didn't outright attack me so much as scare me into running through sharp branches." It sounded totally trivial and ridiculous when I said it out loud.

"Sounds like you don't exactly have the heart of a lion, Jakey," Syd said. "Funny, `cause your father was fearless. But, I guess we're each our own person, ain't we?"

I wanted to defend myself, but the truth was, he was right. I didn't have a timid gene in my body, yet here I was, letting myself get spooked by a stupid wild animal.

"Next time, if you want to go hiking around those parts, you let me know. Either take me along, or take a gun."

I sighed. "I've never touched a gun. I despise them. But I think I'm through with hiking around there, thanks."

Syd had brought home take-out, and during dinner he asked if I'd ever gone skiing.

"Nope, never."

"Are you kidding me? Well, the best skiing in California is right here. We must take advantage of it."

"Do you know how to ski, Syd?" I asked him. "I don't want to slow you down."

"No, I just know the basics," he said. "I'll teach you what I know in about five minutes, and then we'll be at the same level pretty much. It's really easy to learn."

"Sounds like fun," I agreed.

"Damn right," he said. "How much gear ya got?"

"Gear? Like, skis? I don't have any."

He laughed. "I ain't asking `bout skis, boy," he said. "Of course you don't have any of those. Neither do I. We can rent those at the slopes. I mean, what kind of snow gear do you have."

"Syd, I've lived either in Chattanooga or San Francisco my whole life. I don't have any snow gear."

"Well, that's okay. I ain't got nothing fancy either. I just wear my thermals, a pair of sweats, and jeans on the outside, with a jacket on top."

I laughed. "Don't the jeans get wet?"

"By the end of the day, sure, but the thermals keep me warm. You got any pants that are water resistant?"

"I have my workout pants," I said. "I could wear those over my sweats. And I have a thick jacket."

"You'll be fine," he said. "I have extra gloves and a cap for you. It's settled then, we'll go tomorrow."

After dinner Syd wanted me to put on another movie. I chose The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. I did wish Syd would have some documentaries, or at least some true historical films, but no such luck.

I had already changed and was waiting for him in just my shorts on the couch. I was excruciatingly nervous. I reminded myself that there was no need to be nervous--this was not some guy that I was on a date with, this was my closest family friend, someone who would never even think about engaging in anything sexual with me. I took a deep breath and calmed down.

He came out after changing, wearing just his long johns again. At least before he had a tank-top on, but this time he was nude from the waist up. I was starting to feel like his bare upper body was a dangerous weapon, making my heart race as I looked at his blond treasure trail over his huge abs disappear down into the huge package of the long johns.

"I'm ready, fire it up," he said, sitting down on the opposite side of the couch as me. "Let's lie down like before, okay?"

"Sure," I said, although I was anything but sure.

This time Syd got in position first; he put his head on the pillow at his armrest, and stretched out on his side with his back against the back of the couch. Then I stretched out, my head on the opposite armrest, my back against his calves and feet, and feet ending up somewhere by his neck. At least this way I didn't have to worry about him feeling my hard-on, since I was in front this time. I leaned back into the crook of his strong, hairy legs. He put his hand on my ankle and started rubbing me absentmindedly, something I found both absolutely sweet and totally maddening.

This position wasn't actually very comfortable for me because the armrest my head was on was wooden and cold. As we watched the film, I kept trying to hold my head up with my hand.

He must have seen me straining because he said, "I'm such a jerk. Here I've stolen your pillow and you lie there completely miserable."

"I'm not miserable--"

"No, I won't hear it. There's enough room on this pillow for both of us, here, lean forward."

I leaned forward, and he got up behind me on the couch and turned himself completely around.

"Lift up your head."

I did, and he slipped the pillow under it. Then he lay back down with his head behind me on the pillow, and his body stretched out right behind me. My heart raced, knowing we were just a few inches away from spooning, though he wasn't actually touching me at all.

"Can you see the TV like this?" I asked.

"Um, move your shoulder a bit." He put his hand on my shoulder and pushed it down, but kept his hand on it. "There."

His warm, callused hand resting on my shoulder was fantastic. Unfortunately, I was at the edge of the couch, so I really wasn't touching him that much. As the minutes wore on, I slowly started to lean back, until eventually I was lying completely against him. I could feel the hairs on his chest against my back, and his lower arm was over my tricep, causing his armpit hair to tickle my shoulder. His covered legs rubbed against my bare legs as he moved occasionally, and his crotch was sort of spooning my butt.

That was the best part, the spooning. As I concentrated on it, I could feel the weight of his huge package, even through the fabric of his long johns and my shorts. I got hard again, but the room was so dark I knew he couldn't see anything. I wished then that I would feel some response from him, as hopeless as I knew it was. I wished for him to become hard, to start poking my butt, but he didn't. Because, unlike me, he didn't consider this activity anything sexual.

By the time the movie ended, he had fallen asleep. His arm was completely draped over me then, and his face was pressed against my neck. I could feel his warm breath leave his nose and hit my skin. It was both incredibly sexy and very, very soothing. I wanted to stay like that forever, knowing that he wouldn't wake up until I did the honor.

But my sensibility got the best of me. I nudged his arm gently and said, "Syd, it's over."

He woke up and started to stretch.

"Goodnight Jakey."

He left me alone and the couch felt so empty without him. I sighed at my own stupidity, and went to sleep.

DECEMBER 14th

And so, the next morning we were on the slopes. Syd looked somewhere between cool and ridiculous wearing jeans and a cowboy hat over his ski cap. Why he couldn't just leave the hat home for a day I would never know.

Going up on the ski-lift for the first time, I was alarmed at how steep the hills rose up in front of us. Good thing I wasn't scared of heights, I told myself.

When we got to the top of the bunny hill, Syd went over the basics very quickly, thinking I would learn it faster than I did. When I kept falling, Syd was there, helping me up, obviously feeling responsible. I couldn't find my balance on the skis whenever I had to turn, and Syd's instructions to "just feel it" instead of giving me specific techniques was useless. I figured that he must have learned how to ski so long ago that he didn't remember what it was like to learn. Probably he had been skiing since he was a small boy.

It was particularly frustrating because I was normally a gifted athlete in most other regards. After I fell for the 5 billionth time, I got frustrated when Syd helped me up again. "There's no need for you to waste your ski day here picking me up when I fall. Why don't you go do the runs you would normally do."

He laughed. "This park is known for being an easy one, Jakey. They don't have the black diamond runs that I'm used to."

"What happened to you just knowing the basics?"

He smiled deviously. "I lied. I didn't want you not to go."

The morning had started out clear and sunny, but by late morning the clouds had rolled in. I hadn't been prepared for how cold the weather would be up there. It felt substantially warmer down where Syd's house was than it did up here, much higher in elevation, on the cold mountainside where there was nothing to protect you from the biting wind.

Maybe it was because I had never really been around the cold, or maybe it was because I had fallen so many times, with a whole lot of snow getting in my clothes, but by lunch time I was frozen cold.

Although I am not a complainer, Syd noticed me shivering. "You look a might chilled, Jakey," he said. "Are ya cold?"

"I'm fine," I said. "Perfectly warm."

Syd laughed. "Somehow I find that hard to believe when you can't even say those words without your teeth chattering."

"Stupid teeth betrayed me," I said. "Okay, so I'm a little cold."

He looked at me, concern in his face. "This is my fault. I'm pretty used to the cold, but I should have made sure you bundled up better than you did. Sometimes I ain't got a lick o' sense. Here, come into the bathroom with me."

We set down our skis and boots and walked into the lodge's men's room. Syd had me go into one of the stalls and he went into the stall next to me.

"Alright, strip," he said to me.

"Down to what?" I asked.

"Take off everything but your socks. I'll do the same."

The thought of Syd taking off everything but his socks with just a stall wall between us was heating me up even more than the furnace in the bathroom. I stripped down to my socks and I heard him taking off his own clothes in the next stall.

"Underwear off too?" I asked, not at all sure what the purpose of that would be.

"I said everything but the socks, Jakey!"

So, I took off the boxers I was wearing until I was swinging free in that stall.

Syd threw his long john shirt over to me. "Here, put this on."

"Syd, I don't want to take your long johns. You'll freeze!"

"I ain't even cold. Not the least bit. Hell, I'm actually hot."

You can say that again.

His long john shirt was all warm and very inviting. I put my hands in the sleeves and pulled my head inside, letting my face linger there for a moment. The shirt smelled great, a mixture of manly sweat and cologne. It was Syd's smell, and it made me hard as I inhaled it. Finally, I pulled my head through.

"Put these on too."

He threw his long john bottoms over the divider as well. These were just as warm and inviting.

I wondered if Syd wore underwear under the long johns or if he was nude under them. I opened up the top of them and looked down at the crotch. Then I got my answer. Several blonde pubic hairs were stuck in the cotton fabric, and a definitely male aroma came from that area. I did not remove the pubes before sliding the bottoms on.

Normally, the idea of wearing someone else's used underwear would have disturbed me. But Syd was so darn hot, it was definitely pushing me out of my normal comfort zone.

As I pulled the long johns up into place, they started to cup my dick and balls. I could feel the scratch of pubic hairs against mine. The sensation added to the knowledge that Syd's big, mysterious dick had just been touching this wonderful fabric; that really drove me wild. I was beyond hard. Honestly, I thought I could have come right there if I had let myself.

"Kripes Jakey, I'm still waiting here buck naked, with my johnson hanging in the wind."

That image only excited me more. "What do you want me to do?" I asked.

"Ain't it obvious? Throw over your underwear to me!"

Ah, okay. I threw him over the white T I was wearing under my clothes, and then I grabbed my boxers. Since Syd wasn't gay and certainly wasn't infatuated with me, he would not appreciate the boxers not being mostly clean, I knew. So, to spare any embarrassment, I opened them up to make sure there were no loose pubic hairs. There weren't any. I also gave them a sniff check just to make sure they weren't too smelly. The still smelled mostly clean; I guessed that it had been too cold for me to sweat much.

I tossed over the boxers as well. I could hear Syd start to put on his main clothes again, so I did the same.

Syd's thermals made all the difference. I finally had a real prevention from keeping the snow away from my skin when I fell. And if he was suffering without them, he didn't say anything, and there was no noticeable deterioration in his mood.

All through the morning, the slopes had been mostly empty, which was nice for me, because I could fall down without having any other skiers taken down as casualties. But as the day progressed, more and more skiers joined us on the slopes, until the afternoon, when the crowds totally peaked.

Syd's disposition sometimes changed as well. While he had spent the morning humbly trying to train me and being totally supportive, when other skilled skiers started showing up in the afternoon and whizzing past us, I could tell that it was difficult for him not to show off his own skills. Luckily, he never left my side.

Well, not until THEY came along. Sometime around three, when we were starting on an double green circle slope, a step up from the bunny slope, we started to see a flock of three attractive blondes dressed in stylish, form-fitting ski clothes, and when they would pass us, his head would turn away from me and follow their much more graceful movements. Much to my dismay, they repeatedly passed us on that run, and I soon realized they were taking special pleasure cutting through the two of us, twisting and turning skillfully, taunting us as they went. Every time they passed, they gave Syd a "Hello Cowboy, goodbye cowboy."

Syd's patience faded during these assaults, as he so obviously wanted to show them that he wasn't as pathetic as they were assuming.

Then, when I finally worked up the courage and the skill to go on a medium, blue-square run, I was cursing Syd as soon as I started the top of the slope, looking down at a hill that looked impossibly steep below me. Luckily the run was straight and wide, so I could snowplow back and forth very slowly down.

Syd stayed with me until those three lovely snow bunnies showed up again. This time, they actually stopped by us.

"Hey Cowboy, you're cute!" one of the blondes said to Syd.

"Don't I know it! You're not so shabby yerself, darlin!'" he said back.

"How about a race through the trees, Cowboy?" said one of the others.

"If you can beat any of us, then you'll be the only guy invited to our little hot-tub party later on tonight!" said the other one.

"Alright, you're on ladies," he said. "Jakey, you're doing just fine on yer own."

"Ready, go!" said one of the blondes, and they raced through the trees, skiing totally off course, zipping under branches and around trunks.

"There's no way you'll beat me!" Syd called out, and all at once, he shot off like a firecracker, all of the pent up frustration of going at my level exploding. He deftly moved into the trees, clearly going at a pace that would eventually catch the girls.

I saw the three blondes move under a large tree in the woods whose branches were covered with snow. One of the girls rattled the branches a bit, some of the snow falling down onto her, but not enough to deter her.

I started to get a mean wish as Syd made his way under the same tree with its snow covered branches.

"Please let the snow fall on him, please let the snow fall on him, please let the snow fall on him, please let the snow fall on him..."

Then, lo and behold, just as I was expecting, the snow in the branches shook to and fro exactly when he passed underneath them. He looked up, tried to avoid it but was too late. The snow fell on top of him, not enough to hurt him, but enough to knock him to a cold stop.

As he got back to his feet and started to shake off the snow, I started to laugh. Then I felt a bit guilty about the whole thing. But, I realized it was illogical for me to feel guilty. I may have wished that the snow would fall on him, but I hadn't had anything to do with it. I doubted God really cared enough to create a miracle for the sole purpose if embarrassing a hothead. It was just dumb luck that it fell when it did.

He came back out of the woods and rejoined me on the slopes. Those girls were beyond gone. I yawned, feeling suddenly very exhausted. I guessed all the skiing was affecting me more than I thought it would.

"Sorry that one didn't work out for you, Syd," I said to him as he dusted snow off his shoulders.

"Well, it can't be helped. But let it be known that was the first time ever an attractive lady got away from ol' Syd. And it took an act of God to do it."

When we got to the bottom of the medium run finally, we decided to call it a day.

As we drove home, I could honestly say that I had fun.

When we got home, I was exhausted. I took a shower and plopped myself right on the couch in my bed shorts, feeling like bed even though it was only dinnertime.

Syd came out a bit later from his own shower wearing just his briefs, torturing me again. His hair was still wet, and droplets of water covered his skin. Like always, his muscular upper body was a site to behold, putting all antiquity and renaissance sculptures to shame. His dark pink nipples capping his gorgeous pecs; crap how I wanted to taste those nipples. His briefs showed off his buff lower body as well. Of course, the one thing I wished weren't there were his briefs, but even those looked darn sexy on him. This time, they were pulled down far enough that the top of his pubes were visible. His package was as full as always. I could see the outline of his dick, pointed down, move around as he walked.

He looked at me and smiled. "Tired?" he asked.

"I can barely move."

He laughed heartily. "Post ski pains. First timers always get them bad. Soon you'll be sore and stiff more than ever before."

"It's already begun."

He walked towards me and said, "Here, let me help. Roll on your front."

I wasn't sure what lay in store for me, but I did as I was told, rolling onto my front side and stretching out on the couch. I almost jumped when he put his hands on my calves; that's how unused I was to being touched. He started to massage them deeply, it felt great, both because they were sore and because I loved any touch Syd gave me.

After some time, he surprised me by moving his strong hands upwards and starting in on my lower thighs. I hadn't expected that he would massage such an intimate part of my body, but I guess to him there was nothing sexual about this. I shivered as he slowly kneaded his hands into my legs, my dick getting hard. He took his time, rubbing my thighs up and down, never going past my shorts. I inhaled, realizing that I could smell the cheap cologne he wore; he must have put it on after his shower.

"Let me get your shoulders," he said. He walked over to my head, and leaned over so he could grasp my shoulders. His firm touch felt great, but what I was really enjoying was my view; my face was turned outwards towards him right at the level of his crotch. His briefs were so close they grazed my chin a couple of times. Holy crap, his fly was open slightly, and I could see his pubes and the base of his dick inside. I inhaled his scent deeply as he leaned in further to get my neck. It took all my self control not to lean forward and lick him.

He seemed to be having trouble, and moved away. "Here, I'm gonna sit on you so I can get your back."

He straddled me, sitting on my butt with his knees against my sides. He started massaging my neck and back, all of which felt incredible. I started getting hard thinking about his dick separated by just a couple layers of cloth from my butt. I could feel the weight of his dick and balls resting on the small of my back; they seemed so heavy. Needless to say, my dick was so hard.

Eventually he patted me on the butt like a QB to his receiver and told me to flip over as he lifted his weight off of me into a kneeling position. Given that my hardon was digging into the couch, the last thing I wanted to do was turn over.

"That's okay, Syd," I said, a little bit anxiously. "You don't have to do my front."

"It's part of the package. Come on, turn over."

Luckily, I had worn a tight pair of underwear underneath my shorts, and those were keeping my hard dick pointed down. I flipped over onto my back, hoping that the loose fabric of my shorts would be enough to keep my hardon from being noticed.

Kneeling over me, but not actually sitting on me like before, he started to rub my midsection, and worked up to my chest, rubbing over my nipples briefly. As he worked his fingers into my upper body, he slowly, unconsciously lowered his body, until the package of his briefs grazed slightly against my shorts

"You're supposed to keep your eyes shut, Jakey," he said.

I clamped my eyes shut and just tried to relax.

His package grazed the shorts fabric again, a touch that felt better than anything he was doing with his hands, and I started to leak a little precum.

Then he patted my cheek and got off of me. "Feel better?" he asked

"Loads," I said.

I opened my eyes to look at his briefs package one last time. If there had been a homosexual bone in his body, if there had been any small part of him that found me desirable, he would not have been able to give me a massage like that without getting hard. My eyes searched out his crotch, hoping with all my might that he had a hardon, that he returned some of the desire that consumed me.

Nothing. His dick looked exactly the same as it had been when he came out of his room.

I closed my eyes, sighing in dismay, my body still in a soothed calm state, but my mind storming.

"Well, ol' Syd's got another date this fine evening to get to," he said. "I'll get dressed then be on my way. You gonna be okay here?"

"Are you kidding?" I asked him. "I'm bushed. I'll just eat some leftovers, then go to bed."

He was changed and out the door in a short time, and even though I knew it was wrong, I felt both sad that he was leaving and jealous of his date.

No, this would not do. I would not let myself be this mopey. I was behaving like a silly little high school kid who just had his first crush.

I got up, got dressed, and left, determined to go on my own date.

I checked the address sent to me on my phone again. According to Viktor's message, I was in the right spot. I was standing in a run-down part of town within sight of the major Reno casinos. The street was dark as the streetlights around here were old and in disrepair. Nothing about the non-descript building in front of me seemed at all residential, as was the case for the whole, abandoned neighborhood. I went into the building, and into a dark and grimy hallway, trying not to touch anything to avoid getting myself dirty. I found his apartment door on the first floor, and knocked. I suddenly had the fear that he was screwing with me, and this would be some mass murderer's apartment I was skipping right into.

I felt reassured when Viktor answered the door, smiling. Hard rock music and purple light came through the door, making me feel like this was the entrance to some underground rock club. Viktor was again dressed all in black, though his outfit might have been more towards the punk side this time and a little less glam. His hair was just as wild, his face just as white. He still looked incredibly pretty; it was hard to look at his face without being taken in by his beauty.

"Come in," he said, double dead-bolting the door behind me.

As soon as I waltzed inside, I was surprised how big the space I had just stepped into was. It was a huge studio, several times the size of Syd's tiny place. A lot of the interior was black, and was accentuated with red, with a lot of dim, neon lights everywhere. Black velvet curtains covered the windows. It really did have the atmosphere of a rock club, only everywhere you looked in here, there was opulence: the furniture all looked old and very expensive. Viktor obviously had money. I wondered if he had earned it at such a young age or inherited it, Ahmad-style.

The apartment was divided into functional areas: a bedroom in the corner, a kitchen, dining room, living room, and small study.

"Can I get you a drink?" he purred.

I wasn't planning on drinking, as I hadn't told Syd I would be staying the night here. And I'm sure I wouldn't have if his place had been a complete dump, like I had expected from the outside. But I was intrigued now that I saw how much care went into this place, and I decided to live a little. One drink would not keep me from driving back, and Syd would be up late with his date anyway.

"Sure," I said.

"Excellent," he said, kind of in a megalomaniac tone of voice, and started to walk towards his kitchen. I followed him in there.

His kitchen looked very clean; it was up to my standards and beyond. After being around Syd's messy kitchen, this one was a breath of fresh air for my OCD side. As he opened his refrigerator, I noticed that it was actually just one large freezer. Inside, there was ice, a lot of alcohol, and empty space. It was hard to see inside the freezer, and I realized that the light bulb had been removed.

"What libation can I conjure for you?" he asked, his voice all velvet.

"Looks like quite a selection," I said. "But I'll just take whatever light beer you have."

"Beer," he said. "How manly of you. There's a beer mug in one of the cabinets, could you get it?"

I went through his kitchen cabinets in search of the mugs. His cabinets were filled with new- looking dishes and fancy silverware, but there was an odd absence of food. All I could find was some canned food, stuff that would last a long time. The lack of food and a normal refrigerator, coupled with the pristine kitchen, led me to believe that Viktor wasn't much of a cook.

I found the beer mug and he poured the beer for me.

"Let's sit down," he said, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards his living area. We passed a large hatch in the floor that seemed to indicate a door to a basement.

"What's down there?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing but boxes, really."

He sat us on a black leather loveseat.

I took a swig and noticed he didn't have anything to drink. "You're not going to join me?"

"I abstain from drinking," he said. "I get out of hand when I do."

I toasted my beer. "Well, that's responsible of you. Here's to abstinence, then." I took a large swig.

He laughed. "Why do I think your toast was a double entendre? You're such a fucking tease." He closed the distance between us on the loveseat, and pulled my beer out of my hands. "There's nothing wrong with some indulgence, Jake," he purred.

He leaned in to kiss me, and I accepted his kiss. In a second he was on top of me, his tongue down my throat and his hand on my crotch through my pants. This was all new and exciting territory for me, but he didn't give me time to relish any of it, and I didn't like moving this fast. I started to get hard anyway, and he rubbed harder, encouraged. Goodness, I was so horny, and this hot guy actually wanted me as much as I wanted him.

I almost gave in, let myself be swept away into his whims, but I caught myself. I pushed him away. "But too much indulgence and you'll always regret it later."

He sighed. "Speak for yourself."

"Why don't we just talk? Don't you have anything you want to say?"

"What do you want to hear?"

"Anything. Everything. I just want to get to know you."

"Ha, that's cute. No guy I ever brought here has ever just wanted to get to know me." He shrugged, rubbing his hand around my jawbone and neck. "I could tell you my family is from Europe. I could tell you I've been in Reno for less than a year. I could tell you my favorite color is black. That I'm an Aires. But those things are trivial," he moved his lips just inches from my own. "When I can tell you so, so much more about me without a single syllable."

He kissed me again, and once again swept me up with desire, this time I kissed him back. There was something odd about those kisses, but it had been so long since I kissed someone that I waved it off.

I pushed him away, steeling my resolve. I was not a pushover when it came to my own principles.

"If you don't want to talk about yourself, then I'll tell you about myself," I said.

"Alright," he said, not sounding too interested.

So, I gave him the short account of my life thus far, and he listened patiently. It was nice to be able to talk freely about the gay parts of my life, instead of having to cover that side up like I did around Syd.

Finally, I looked at my watch. "Wow, it's late. I've got to take off. I don't want to fall asleep at the wheel on my way back."

He reeled back in horror. "You're leaving? After all that, that, talking, you're just leaving?"

"That's right, I have to be back tonight."

"So, I guess this is it, huh? You don't want to see me again?" He seemed frustrated.

I thought about it. "Viktor, I had a good time, and I would like to see you again, if you'd like to do the same."

He seemed confused. "If you had a good time, then how come you're not spending the night?" he asked me. "Isn't that why you came over to begin with?"

"What? No, that's ridiculous. I came over because you invited me here."

"I invited you because I want every inch of your body," he said.

"Well, I'm sorry I didn't live up to your expectations," I said to him. "I'm not looking for a one night stand, Viktor."

"Oh, neither am I," he said. "And trust me, once you have me, you wouldn't be able to limit it to just one night anyway."

"What I mean is, I'm not looking just for sex," I said. "I want something more real. A connection."

He smiled. "How quaint. Alright, I can do boring. I can play that game."

"Great," I said. "So, until next time, Viktor."

I kissed him goodbye just to let him know I was not mad at him. He kissed me back hard, and I sensed that he was trying one last time to seduce me into staying.

I pushed him away and headed for the door.

"One question for you," I asked him.

"Yes?"

"If you don't drink, how come you have so much alcohol?" I asked him.

He laughed, his eyes mysterious. "Let's just say I like to entertain."

I left, having mixed feelings about my evening as I drove home. Viktor was so odd, so different than I was. Was there any prayer that we would be compatible? It seemed like trying to force a basketball into a golf hole.

But, he had some things going for him: he was ridiculously pretty, he seemed at least financially grounded, he knew how to tidy up, and most of all, he was attracted to me. I was sick of liking guys who didn't fall into the last category.

DECEMBER 15th

Syd had let me sleep in, because when I awoke, it was late morning. I went through Syd's empty bedroom, opened the glass door in that room that led to the wild backyard, and found Syd once again working outside, taking advantage of the relatively warm, sunny day we were having.

Really taking advantage, I realized as I went outside. He was wearing his beige cowboy hat, tight jeans, cowboy boots, and leather work gloves, leaving his chest bare, his tan skin shining beautifully in the sunshine. This time, however, he was wearing his belt with his large belt buckle, which kept his pants up much better than the last time I had seen him working, much to my disappointment. Luckily, I still had that huge bulge in his jeans to admire, and admire I did.

"Can I help?" I asked, approaching him.

He lit up when he saw me, smiling that loving smile of his. "Morning Jakey. No, no need to help. It's my yard and my responsibility. The last thing you want to do after such a long night of, ah, fun, is to work in the yard."

"Syd, I want to help," I said.

"Well, alrighty. The folks who lived here before me left this old, rotting fence around the yard," he said. "There just seems no point in the fence, that's all. If I was hanging out buck naked in this yard, it wouldn't make a lick of difference. There ain't no one else anywhere around these parts to see me, and even if there were, these trees keep the yard totally closed off. Since I moved it, I've been pulling the damn fence out, throwing it away. See? I just got this little section left here."

He pointed at the last several dozen planks left in the fence.

"This fence is so rotted I can just pull it out of the ground with my bare hands. If you want to help, we can work together."

"Sure, I'd love to." It felt sexy to work with Syd, even if it was manual labor.

He demonstrated his technique: he grabbed the top of one of the fence boards using both gloved hands, his arms stretched out in front of him, leaving his wet armpit hair visible. He spread his legs and planted his cowboy boots firmly in the ground. I watched as he seemed to flex every muscle in his body, his abs and pecs turning to rock, his neck muscles bulging, and his arms and shoulder swelling hugely as he put all his effort into pulling the board up, out of the ground.

He was successful, grunting as he got it out and tossed it on a large pile.

"Now, you try," he said. "Here, use my gloves."

He gave me his leather gloves, which were hot and sweaty as I put them on. I mimicked him exactly, putting both hands on the top of my board and pulling with all my might.

Nothing happened. I rocked the board back and forth, realizing that I could work it loose enough eventually to pull it out, but it would take much longer my way and look a lot less cool.

"Aww, Jakey, I don't want you to have an aneurism. You know what would really help? Is if you collected these boards as I pulled them out and gather them up more neatly than I've been doing."

"Organizing," I said. "Now that I know I can do." Honestly, I was decently strong as well, and usually could handle chores that took a little muscle. But you could see the difference between Syd and myself just by contrasting the size of our muscles, so of course Syd was going to be better at anything that took raw power.

I gave Syd back his gloves, and in no time he had pulled out the board that had eluded me. "Be careful of the nails in these boards," he said. "I'm sure they're all rusted. Don't want you to hurt yourself."

I took note, handing the boards delicately as I walked over and made a neat pile.

After Syd had pulled a few more boards out, he apparently forgot to take his own advice. There was a nail jutting out of a board he was pulling out of the ground, pointing right towards his midsection. At first I thought he knew it was there, but when he pulled the board out of the ground, he slammed the nail against himself, and I realized that it must have been too low for him to see.

"Syd, don't move!" I yelled.

"What?" he said, noting the concern in my voice and looking at his feet. "Did I stir up a rattler or somethin?'"

"No, there is a huge nail on that board!"

Surprised, he looked down at the plank in his hands. Both of our eyes went wide as we saw what had happened. The nail was completely embedded in Syd's jeans, just to the right of the bottom of Syd's fly.

"Lord, no, anywhere but there!" Syd said, his characteristic coolness eluding him for once. "If anything happens to little Syd, I just couldn't take it."

"Syd, please tell me you're wearing briefs or some other protective clothing under there," I said, truly worried.

"Nah, I only wear `em cause the ladies appreciate it if I do," I said. "Well, some of the ladies, anyway. Most of the time, I just go natural."

"Okay, well, don't budge," I said.

"I have to get it out, Jakey," he said. With that, he pushed the board quickly away from him, making me audibly gasp.

If the nail had been straight, it would have just come straight out. But it was actually twisted upwards and gnarled, so instead of a clean break, the nail ripped painfully upwards when he forced it out.

I heard the sound of tearing and I clenched my jaw shut, terrified.

He tore a huge hole in his jeans, and then held the board safely away from him. As far as I could see, there wasn't any blood.

"Ya know?" he said. "I think I'm okay."

"You should check it to make sure," I told him. "The last thing you want it to get Tetanus."

"No, really Jakey, I can feel that I'm perfectly okay. Thank you Lord!"

He handed me the dangerous board carefully, and I put it on the stack.

"Guess I can work a little more here," he said. He grabbed the next board and started to pull it up. I couldn't believe he could just go on as if nothing had happened. "Ruined a perfectly good pair of jeans. Ah well, I guess I'll just use these for working."

I was pretty sure Syd didn't understand the extant of the damage to his pants, and I decided to keep my mouth shut. I could see that the shredded hole in his jeans was huge, a couple inches in diameter. It was placed just to the right of the bottom of his fly.

My worry for his safety melted into lust as I noticed that, blessedly, his dick was tucked down to the right of his fly, directly where the hole was.

Holy lord, I could finally, finally see his bare dick. Well, at least part of it. And I was beyond impressed.

The hole in Syd's jeans was far enough down that for an average-lengthed soft penis, the head would be popping out of the hole.

Syd's penis must have been anything but average-lengthed, because—and I had to blink hard just to make sure this wasn't some optical illusion—because I could see no sign of his dickhead at all; it must have started well beyond the lower edge of the rip. Even though the hole was massive, all that I could see was the stalk of his dick, not the pubes on top or the head down below, because his dick was really that long. It was mind blowing, really.

Not to mention the girth of his dick. The stalk's width was big—porn star big.

Holy crap, I wanted it so, so bad all the more then.

My eyes locked on this hole as he continued to work, hoping that I might get a better view, or at least catch a glimpse of his head. But we were only halfway through when Syd called it a day, taking his cowboy hat off and fanning his hot, sweaty upper body.

He turned to go into the house, and that was it, I was fated only to see a small section of his dick instead of its full glory.

That afternoon was spent doing our laundry at the Laundromat and doing grocery shopping. That night, after dinner, Syd asked me if I wanted to go in the jacuzzi with him.

"I'd love to, but I didn't think to bring my swimsuit."

He considered. "No prob, you can wear mine. I have something else I could wear."

I had changed into Syd's swim trunks and sat alone in the jacuzzi. The air was cold, so I made sure to keep most of my body in the water at all times.

Syd came springing out of the house in a pair of his white briefs. "Briefs, Syd?"

"What? These are just the same as swim trunks functionally. Hey, it's these, or nothing at all."

I pictured that image while Syd entered the tub. Let me tell you that Syd didn't carefully climb into the jacuzzi like I had done. Oh no, he recklessly jumped in from the outside, landing perfectly into the seat, but splashing water onto my face in the process. "Whoops," he said.

Laughing, I splashed him back.

"Okay, I deserved that," he said.

We settled in for a moment, him shutting his eyes, and me looking at how the water droplets clung to his nipples and chest hairs, wishing so bad that I could touch them. He opened his eyes again.

"Oh, I forgot, if we turn out the lights we can really see the stars," he said. I figured I'd rather see him than the stars, but when he got up out of the water, I wasn't displeased. His wet briefs were clinging skin tight to his body, and they had turned somewhat translucent. On his backside, the fabric was clinging to his muscular buttcheeks. On the front, through the milky white fabric, I just make out his wet patch of pubic hair, his huge, soft cock pointed down, and even bigger balls, it still wasn't a clear view of his dick like I so desired, heck, I didn't even know if he was circumcised. But it was still very, very exciting. I sprang a hard-on again, luckily right when he turned the porch light off.

He was right; the night was more black and resolute than any that I had experienced before. The stars were magnificently bright. I couldn't see Syd; I could only hear his wet footsteps on the patio and then the splash as he jumped back in the water. He crashed into me accidentally, his bare chest hitting my own, his wet chest hair scratching my nipples electrically, before getting his bearings.

"Oops, sorry. I can't see anything."

"It's okay," I said, really not minding the contact at all, and in fact quite enjoying it.

He sat beside me and looked upwards. We were sitting side by side with our thighs, knees, and shoulders touching. Every point of contact between us felt like warm magic. He moved a little; feeling his wet skin rub against mine started to get me excited again and I was thankful after all that it was so dark.

After sitting in the silence for a while my excitement dissipated. I was too relaxed to be turned on. My mind floated a million different directions, and I realized that sitting there with Syd, I felt happy and completely at home.

Syd's voice cut through the darkness. "Jerry told me on the phone that your mother has a new jerk-off boyfriend."

"Yeah, I think his name is Mitchell or Matt or something. I don't know where she finds these losers."

"She's always been attracted to jerks," said Syd.

"I don't know how she can say she loves us even when she forces all of them into our lives. When Dad would yell at us, she wouldn't say anything. She wouldn't even look."

Syd sighed sadly. "I know what it's like to have a good for nothin' daddy. It plain sucks. But hell, at least I turned out at least half-way decent, right?"

"More than halfway, Syd," I said.

"Awe, shucks," he said happily. Syd wrapped his arm around me and pulled me against him, a touching gesture of affection. "Whatever hell you went through when you were a kid, it should never have happened, but you turned out all right too. You made it through." He stroked my wet hair and I leaned into the crook of his arm.

"Thanks Syd."