This story is fiction. The characters are adults in adult situations. Warnings: The only person you can ever hope to truly know is yourself. Trust no one; use condoms. If you are not of legal age or in a jurisdiction in which this document is illegal, go way. This is my story. Please respect the copyright.
John's father had to be in New York, over Thanksgiving. He asked that John and Wylie join him in the city. John explained that Wylie couldn't afford the fare. Without hesitation, Mr. Grant said he would pay any expenses. John told him Wylie would most likely resent the offer. He would view it as a reminder of what he didn't have. Mr. Grant understood.
John and his father had talked at least once a week, if not more often. Every conversation had included some discussion of, or news about Wylie. John had confided in his father concerning Wylie's limited funds as well as his sensitivity, concerning the same. John didn't share "everything" with his father.
They knew he was on a tight budget. He was desperate to keep his scholarship. Mr. Grant suggested John call Conchatta and they spend the four days at the ranch. John opted to remain at school over the holiday weekend.
His father was only too well aware of Wylie Keyes. His financial state, his familial situation, his educational performance (past and present) as well as swimming abilities. He knew more about Wylie's background than, perhaps, even Wylie.
He knew enough to form an opinion regarding Wylie's potential for future success. Mr. Grant had, through various sources, learned enough to encourage John in his new friendship. That was a step that John's father did not take lightly. Mr. Grant didn't accept anyone, in his life or his son's life, at face value.
Without ever having met him; he liked Wylie Keyes.
John searched until he found one of the few really good restaurants open on Thanksgiving. At that, he was lucky there had been a cancellation. Since he would have gladly flown Wylie to New York and shown him around, John wanted to do something nice for Wylie.
Anyone else might have looked upon a candle lit dinner for two, in an expensive restaurant, as a date.
As it was, even a simple dinner was a hard sell. John finally convinced him that his father had specifically told John to take Wylie out to dinner. "Dad feels bad that he can't be home for thanksgiving. This will be the first holiday we spend apart. He knows I was planning to invite you to the ranch. He'll be pissed if you refuse. This is his way of apologizing for messing up our plans. If you refuse, it's like refusing his apology." Wylie relented. John made a mental note to tell his father about this "little white lie".
Tuesday after classes, John reminded Wylie that the restaurant required a coat and tie. Wylie freaked a little, letting John know; that was not made clear before he had agreed to go. Wylie tried to back out.
John held his ground. Finally he blurted out: "Dad wanted to fly us to New York, I knew you wouldn't go. But you damn well are going out to dinner! So, get used to it."
John's fist were clinched and his chest heaving.
Wylie was dazed. He tried to assimilate what he had just heard. John had turned down a trip to New York, rather than leave him behind. Wylie felt small.
His eyes fixed on the floor, Wylie confessed to having only an ill-fitting suit. It had come from some thrift store. He had worn it to his grandmother's funeral."
He had no clothes suitable for anything more sophisticated, than Burger King.
John would have gladly taken Wylie shopping except he would probably have to knock him out. Something he had been prepared to do, a moment before he saw Wylie's embarrassment.
Then again, Wylie was as heavy as John. So, dragging his unconscious friend through a shopping spree was not something he looked forward to. And besides; the alterations would probably be less than satisfactory and probably not be finished in time.
The only reason John toyed with the idea was the things he could do, with a non-resistant Wylie, unimpeded by alcohol. Such is the stuff that makes us dream.
An alternative was to have Wylie try on one of John's suits. After considerable cajoling and several tense moments, Wylie again relented. John spent an inordinate amount of time shifting, tugging, touching and caressing the suit until if rested on Wylie's frame; just right.
As John's ministrations went on Wylie felt the crotch of the, well fitting, suit become increasingly tighter.
Tying the tie had John pressed against Wylie's backside, both looking into the mirror. John let his hardening cock move against Wylie's ass. Just often enough: Any less was not a consideration; any more and he would cum or assault Wylie; here and now. More than once he lost his concentration and had to start over. Neither complained.
The end result, of all the fussing, left John wishing he had assaulted Wylie. The man could have a career in modeling. He was a little jealous that his suit looked better on Wylie.
Wylie's face held a smile that John had not seen before. It told of how good Wylie thought he looked. That smile also showed gratitude. The air of confidence that settled on Wylie was priceless. Looking at His expression, John felt warm, really warm inside. That smile made it hard for John not to kiss him tenderly and hold him close. God! It felt Good.
Once Wylie was again in casual clothes, they went for beer and pizza. Too many beers, of course: Both were horny!
Once in the room they drank another beer. John was on his bed. Wylie, legs folded in an almost yoga position, was on the floor. The only light was from an old lava lamp that Wylie had. It's, wavering, soft, blue light gave the room an ethereal quality.
John, clumsily, got up off the bed and staggered, mumbled, " I got go drain the lizard."
Upon returning, still staggering, he grabbed two more beers and sat on the floor, his back against his bed, facing Wylie.
Their drunken conversation, already inane, continued. John said something that Wylie had not understood. He leaned toward Wylie to clarify his point. His forehead came to rest lightly against Wylie's. In a spitting slur he mumbled, "You're drunk".
Bona fides established!
He then reached into Wylie's boxers and extracted his already hard and leaking cock. He knew that sometimes he got hard just watching Wylie. Did Wylie do the same?
He looked at the slick liquid that coated his fingers. He leaned his head away from Wylie and making eye contact, proceeded to lick his fingers clean.
Wylie pulled John's head back to his for a deep kiss. His tongue searched John's mouth for a taste of himself. When the kiss broke, John squeezed Wylie's cock and collected more precum. This he offered to his, drunken, best friend.
Wylie, holding John's gaze began to lick John's finger clean. John then twisted his ass around. He tugged on Wylie's legs until Wylie understood. Now they were face to face, Wylie's legs draped over John's and around his backside. John's own legs mimicked Wylie's. Their cocks poked each other bellies. Their lips met in another deep kiss. They stroked each other's chest. Wylie, teased the curly hair on John's chest. While John felt the stubbled remains of Wylie's tease his fingertips. They rubbed and lightly pinched each other's nipples.
John reached down and took both cocks in his hand. His thumb and fingers could not meet. He reached for Wylie's right hand and together they stroked. Slow strokes; fast strokes each could build toward ecstasy and calm down. Both understood the changing pressure of the other's hand. This went on and on. Finally John pinched Wylie's nipple; Wylie moaned into John's mouth and signaled an increase in their tempo. John understood and together they jerked themselves into orgasmic delight. Cum shot from both cocks, onto chins and necks and chests. Through it all there lips kept contact.
Even after cumming, the kiss held. With considerable effort they were able to lie down, alongside the bed, still holding the kiss. Neither had completely lost their hardons. Finally, Tongues withdrew. John's head was rested on Wylie's chest. Neither wanted to move and, thereby, let this intimacy slip away.
It was hours later that John awoke, again, needing relief. Clad in boxers and cum he sought the bathroom down the hall. When he returned, Wylie was in bed. It flashed through John's mind that this would have been a perfect day had Wylie been lying in John's bed, awaiting his return. A heavy sigh was all that got in bed with John.
Wednesday already held the holiday spirit. People hurrying, calling our goodbyes, and frantically trying to vacate campus. There were enough acquaintances left on campus that a pick-up b-ball carried them late into the afternoon.
John went, for the first time, with Wylie for a swim. After watching Wylie in the water, John found his respect growing. Wylie, on the dive board, was clockwork precision. The water seemed to absorb his form. The water and Wylie melded, like two molten metals flowing into one-another. In swimming; the water seemed to propel him, while Wylie effortlessly rode along. It was to John; a thing of beauty.
John's diving was flagrantly lacking; compared to Wylie's. John viewed water as an element to be dominated; like a novice climber views his first real mountain. Wylie, on the other hand, greeted the water with unabashed joy.
John perceived the difference.
Once John expressed admiration and envy, Wylie spent time working on improving John's technique. John was further impressed with Wylie's patience and willingness to teach. Wylie worked to improve John's technique, while John worked to improve his attitude. Progress was made on both fronts.
By the time both were water logged it was almost seven. They showered and dressed and headed for, you guessed it, pizza and beer. They engaged two other students in a darts match. It was close but John and Wylie wound up buying beer for most of the evening. Wylie complained that they had been hustled. John just had a good time.
Together they staggered back to the dorm. It would have been clear to anyone, once they left the bar, they were "in their cups". Wylie entered the room first. John closed and locked the door. Grabbing Wylie, he spun him around and took his head in his hands and kissed him, with a hunger that surprised, even him. Wylie did not object. He began undressing John, even as the kiss continued.
Breaking the kiss, each watched as the other hurriedly undressed. Strange that moments ago both were staggering and yet now each could balance on one foot while removing boots, socks and jeans.
Once naked, Wylie pushed John against the door. It was his turn to show hunger; he devoured his lovers mouth.
John wrapped his arms around Wylie. Wylie found his hands pressed between their chest. He rubbed his fingertips across John's nipples and was encouraged as he felt John's body shudder and he swallowed John's moan. With this he pushed away and with an evil grin, proceeded to lick, suck and nibble John's nipples. John couldn't believe the sensations. His nipples were wired to his cock. He moaned and for the first time ever, during sex with Wylie, he spoke. "Ohhh Goddamn!"
At the sound; Wylie froze! John had broken a cardinal rule. The unwritten contract (Consummation without Conversation) had been violated.
John waited.
Wylie raised his head, and roughly covered John's mouth. The message; John was forgiven, but he had to shut up.
Had he asked for clarification he would learned that Wylie's kiss had meant: "I don't care if you yell to the high heavens, John Grant! I love you!"
John pushed Wylie away, just enough to get to his nipples. Wylie now experienced the sensations, that had made John cry out. His reaction was not vocal. Instead he started jacking his cock and moaning.
John wanted to hear words.
He had no time to register disappointment.
Wylie, with his free hand began stroking John's cock with fervor. John's mouth connected to Wylie's nipple. Both approached orgasm by the grace of Wylie's hands. John released Wylie's nipple. Wylie whined in frustration. Releasing his own cock he took John's head and guided it roughly back to the just vacated nipple.
John bit the nipple. Wylie uttered a choked moan and began to shoot. John, without letting go of the nipple, pushed Wylie's hand away. Stroking like a madman, John brought himself to climax before Wylie's final spurt. Wylie, now spent, lifted John's head from his chest and kissed him as at the start; deeply, passionately.
This was the first time they had sex while standing. Once the kiss was broken, Wylie simple flicked the lights. Stumbling over the clothes underfoot made his way to his bed and crashed, naked, face down and slept. John picked up his clothes and Wylie's and draped them over appropriate chairs. Then he too, fell face-down, onto his bed. Before happy exhaustion sent him to Morpheus,
Before fading into oblivion; John silently swore to Wylie, he would never talk during sex again.
Thursday and Thanksgiving: Both chatted about celebrated feastings from their childhood. At John's insistence, the day began with a swim. Wylie was more than a little pleased. He praised John's modest skills. John was in turn pleased, but not fooled. He knew his shortcomings.
After a light lunch, they joined fellow students watching football, at the student union. Afterward they took to their room to read followed by a nap. Just after six, they showered. No, it wasn't needed but it gave both the opportunity to view, in relative solitude, the others naked body. In the light of day.
When the topic of dinner was raised John learned that Wylie had never tasted lobster nor calamari. John hoped these would be available. Valet parking was a new experience for Wylie. Inside the restaurant, Wylie managed to view the interior without gawking. The restraurant was lush and comfortable. The staff were dressed, so Wylie thought, better than he and John.
Their candlelit table was in an alcove. At first Wylie thought that strange, then he noticed several other tables were situated for privacy. These were all, tables for two. He relaxed.
Looking over the menu Wylie was about to order steak and fries. John made some suggestions and Wylie accepted John's guidance as John had graciously accepted his, in the pool.
Their waiter, Paulo, was solicitous and when he realized John and Wylie were not interested in roast turkey. He was thrilled. Apparently his expertise had gone unappreciated this evening. He then made suggestions from soup to nuts with appropriate wine pairings. Paulo confessed it gave him great pleasure to serve as sommelier, due to the reduced staffing.
He had focused his attention on John during the discussion and got really close when pointing out entrees'.
Once he walked away Wylie asked, "Don't you think he was a little too friendly? I don't like it when someone hovers over you..I, uh mean, hovers over me. Are all waiters in this kind of place, that friendly?" This last was asked with a look of distaste.
John reassured Wylie, "I think he is just bored, from serving turkey to turkeys." John gave Wylie, what his father called a "shit eating grin". (Note: a 'shit eating grin' is worn when one catches someone doing something not quite right. It generally serves to heighten the embarrassment of the one just caught.)
Wylie reddened and suddenly found his water glass to be very interesting. John wondered; could Wylie's blue eyes turn green? John was a happy man. When the waiter returned with food and wine, Wylie's smile returned also. The evening was a resounding success. They went through every unusual item on the menu, that sounded promising. Some lived up to the promise, some didn't.
Before the meal was well under way, Wylie had himself been charmed by the Paulo.
Wylie learned; he loved raw oysters, wasn't particularly fond of calamari, he could live on lobster. Escargot, took more than a little convincing. He told John it was ok. John noted Wylie ate only the one.
He promised himself and told John; he would learn more about 'good" wine. Paulo had suggested five wines. John concurred, but when the fifth was about to appear along with a plethora of dessert samples he balked. There was still wine left from the previous course.
Paulo was disappointed but not deterred. When the sample size desserts appeared, so did two glasses of wine. "Complements of the Chef", Paulo explained that the Chef had been bored to tears, until John and Wylie offered a "bit of a challenge".
Waiting for the jeep, John nudged Wylie, "I thought you didn't like guys like Paulo, I think just before the dessert came he was hitting on you. I thought you showed more than passing interest. Is there something you need to tell me about you and Italian waiters."
The jeep arrived before Wylie could properly defend himself. He settled with muttering, so only John could here, "Fuck you John."
If Wylie could read minds he would have heard John reply, "If only".
Visions flooded John's mind as blood flooded a lower hanging appendage. He forced his brain to concentrate on other matters.
He smiled as he wondered what Wylie would say, had he seen the check. It would not have paid for a flight to New York, but it would have taken them both well beyond Texas borders. John enjoyed conjuring images of the reactions, Wylie might have had.
Wylie finally broached the comfortable silence, "John, I would like to let your father know, how much I enjoyed this evening. I know this makes me sound like a hick; but, it really was one of the best nights of my life. Not even sex, uh, with Miss Texas could make it better. It was perfect." Those sentiments were shared by John. He absently wondered if Miss Texas had Wylie's blonde hair and blue eyes?
"Wylie, it might make me sound like a hick too; but, I had a great time. I don't remember a better time, that didn't involve sex. I'll remember tonight for a long time, to come. It couldn't have been any better; with or without Miss Texas."
Even though each left the restaurant with a pleasant glow, neither pretended to be drunk. Once in the room the atmosphere was subdued and convivial. Long, comfortable silences were broken with almost reverence. Each wanted to hold onto the level of intimacy; the food, wine and companionship had created. Both went to bed without a beer, but with a smile.
They both knew there would be other nights filled with sex, uh, beer, filled with beer. The evening would be a cherished memory for both. Each would recall years later; their first date. Each would proudly state, "I didn't put out, on our first date."
Friday, Saturday and Sunday came and went. Each evening found both, more than a little "drunk". Already the dorm buzzed with the idea that those two were party animals. The buzz also marveled at the fact that those two were outstanding students and that Wylie was a champion swimmer. How long could they maintain their status and drink like fishes? Some jealously awaited their, sure to be imminent; downfall.
Days flowed into weeks. John's swimming instruction continued. He would train with Wylie, after classes. The pool area was never crowded and occasionally they were alone. Showering after a lesson, was followed by; food, study and partying. From the beginning, John rarely allowed Wylie to fund the drinking. Wylie forced himself to acquiesce. After all; it was let John pay or no sex. College is a horny time for any man. Wylie's libido won out over his pride.
It was a week before holidays and studies had taken a priority over most other activities. Well, of course not all. Seems the tolerance for alcohol was lessoning instead of increasing.
John had mentioned several times that Wylie should join him and his Dad, at the ranch. Wylie dismissed any serious discussion by muttering something about visiting fiends in his neighborhood and getting a "temp" job. It was only after John convinced him that life at the ranch was not "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous".
There would only be his Dad and Conchatta. She lived with her own family, in her own house, on the ranch. She prepared meals and cleaned and occasionally kicked John's ass, when he got out of line. Besides, she was a great cook and made sure her "men in la hacienda" always had plenty to eat. John's convincing argument was that there would be work on the ranch for both of them and Wylie would be paid; in cash and more than he could earn in a temp job.
"Ok, John. I'll go, just promise me you will quit your nagging. If this is what it's like to have a nagging wife, no wonder, husbands die before their wives."
John had not realized until then that underlying all his other stresses, was the fear that what they had, might be lost. He was afraid of how Wylie would react, when they came back from the long separation. John was even more afraid of how he himself might react; given time away from his physical attraction to this man.
He relaxed. The slight ache throughout his body let him know that he had been carrying tension, of which he had been; unaware? That came as a small shock to him. After all; he knew himself so well. Didn't he?
Wylie's surrender made him a contented man. That didn't stop him from slamming Wylie with a pillow.
The scuffle that ensued found no real victor. Just two smiling, contented, best friends.