Light Bulbs
©2017 MCVT November 27, 2017 Light bulbs and Chamorro heartbreak juice... A tale of two lovers.
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Adult Content: 87% fiction, rom, anal, self-realization, first, recovery. ===============================================================
The first hurricane of the season was barreling toward the coast. Alerts blared from all the media.
I hunkered down with the girlfriend Deanna in her trailer house on a small rise outside of town.
We'd stocked up and prepared for the worst, but we were ready with plenty of weed, beer and lotsa lube.
Three days - without stop, the winds whipped the water sideways through the air and it was dark as night for over seventy hours. My glans sported some red spots, and my testicles were drained after the first twenty-four hours. We stopped to eat and recharge for the duration.
Mighty storm and it passed during the night of the third day. When we woke, Deanna's house stood in a lake. By the next day the water had receded enough for us to leave.
Because we both worked with the city, we were called into duty. Small town folks were organized - ready with buckets, shovels, boats and boots.
Deanna worked in the water treatment lab; she needed to start performing the testing of the drinking water. Me, working for the planning department approving construction permits wouldn't be needed till later but I was called to help clean up - so I joined Deanna.
At the water treatment lab, we found it had seen about seven feet of water. The high water mark ringed the walls almost up to the ceiling.
All the lab equipment was ruined. Bottles of testing liquids floated off their shelves, and lay all over the floor without their paper labels. Books and reference materials were soaked - unusable.
Grabbing a trash bag and my gloves, I started pulling the soaked debris, piece by piece off the floor so we could shovel the rest, and carefully setting the bottles of liquid aside. The lids were still on, so I figured Deanna could identify some of them by sight or smell.
As the day wore on, more workers showed up and the place was buzzing with volunteers in the humid air and brilliant sunlight.
I found a dry cardboard box and started placing the little bottles of chemicals carefully inside, then took it to a clean counter. Before I could get there, the bottom of the box broke and the bottles smashed to the floor.
EEEOW!
I looked at my foot and saw that the top of my sneaker was burned away and my skin was turning red and hurt like hell underneath the eroded hole.
Acid! Some kind of acid was in one of the bottles!
I started jumping around and ran outside, flipping my sneaker off to push my foot into an ice chest full of canned drinks. Deanna called another volunteer to take me to the hospital.
The top of my foot burned and stung like all get out!
...
The gal who took me to the ER said she'd come back later, and I hobbled into the emergency room to see it packed with people.
Completing the paperwork, I was classified as a "level four." That meant I waited behind the heart attacks, snakebites, construction mishaps and anyone bleeding heavily. Wait is the key word in that statement.
Okay. I figured I'd get a little shut-eye.
I was sat in a plastic chair with my foot in a bucket of iced, medicated water in a corridor along a row of exam tables all surrounded by the thin privacy drapes.
Hundreds of people passed in front of me, I couldn't nap with my foot in a bucket of ice water. Impossible! So I satisfied myself with watching the stream of humanity.
Leaning my head against the wall, I saw a short, slender young man pass in front of me in an old plaid house robe - hair disheveled and dark circles around his eyes. He walked almost like a ballerina, very carefully with a nurse on each side of him, holding his arms. Every step was delicately placed as he made his way behind the cheesy fabric curtain next to my chair.
"Must be a level one or two..." I figured he'd hurt his back lifting debris or shoveling crud.
Several nurses followed quickly behind the robed patient and a hushed conversation ensued, I could hear them helping him undress and he moaned as he climbed on the table.
One nurse was getting additional information, and the conversation sounded confusing. They all chuckled a few times - that was odd if he had an injury.
The two youngest nurses left to attend other injuries, the older one stayed until the doctor came in.
Again, an odd conversation about making "more appropriate choices." Another term for "Gee that was really stupid."
I heard the crisp paper cover crinkle as nurse help the patient turn on the exam table.
The patient moaned several times and didn't say much more. Then the doctor and nurse left, but the nurse came back with a tray of supplies - about twenty little envelopes of petroleum jelly and a plier-like contraption and several other pieces of equipment.
I waited and listened as the nurse and the patient spoke softly - she asked if he needed an anesthetic. The patient refused several times.
Soon, I heard the young man start humming with every exhale. Didn't take long for the hums to become moans and the sounds became louder and more filled with pain.
There was a loud, "Aaagh!" Then silence.
The patient's breathing was hard for a few breaths, and the nurse was whispering some comfort.
Then, I heard the patient say, "God that's cold." She must have put some salve on whatever had just gotten treated.
The nurse announced "You may feel a pinch..."
He got an injection. She gathered her supplies on the tray and left. As she passed me, I couldn't help but notice that peeking out from under the cloth that covered her equipment, the end of what appeared to be a light bulb - the metal end with the threads to screw it into the socket.
Maybe it was part of some kind of new medical device.
...
Wailing of ambulances came from the distance and another flood of patients came into the ER.
Seems a reservoir burst across a highway tumbling the cars across the roadway and into the oncoming traffic. People in their vehicles were thrown around, but I didn't hear that anyone had died.
The man behind the curtain was placed on a gurney, covered with a blanket and rolled out to the hallway to recuperate - he just moved at least one level down.
I moved my chair to make room for him as the medics and injured pulsed through the hallways.
I'd probably been moved to a "number five" with only a shallow acid burn and figured that I'd still be in the hallway till tomorrow morning.
The guy on the gurney lay on his side, under the blanket, but shifted to face the wall.
"You okay, buddy?" I asked him.
"Yeah, they gave me an anti-inflammatory."
"Good." I nodded.
"Why are you just sitting there? Waiting for someone?" He asked.
"Acid burn on my foot, but I think I'm going to leave - I can dress it at home with some antibiotic cream." I told him my foot was in a bucket of ice water.
There was a lot of drama going on in the hallway; people crying and moaning.
I looked to the side, "Gotta get out of here." Phone in hand, I called the gal who dropped me off.
"Hey, can you give me a ride home? Just to the mall, I think I can walk the rest of the way." The young man asked.
"Are you sure? You feel okay?" He looked a little dopey to me.
"Yeah, I've been here long enough, I'm okay now. They just pulled a light bulb out of my ass." He paused to register my mildly surprised reaction, and then smiled.
"That was a long three days - electricity went off..." He added.
I smiled. That's why I'd chosen to stay with Deanna, but I was curious about this light bulb recreation.
"You mean you put a light bulb up your butt?"
"Yeah - the one from the refrigerator. I like a little anal every now and then..." He was trying to be blasé, but blushed.
"Oh? You gay?" I asked, not that it mattered, just being nosy.
"Bi." He answered. "Does it bother you?" He was probably checking out my attitude since he'd just asked me for a ride home.
"Nah. Just another way to live."
I grabbed his clothes and walked him to the restroom and let him dress while I watched for our ride.
He saw me grinning. I was wondering what about the wattage on a refrigerator light bulb.
"Yeah, I know. Dumb thing to do." He grinned. "Gonna be hard to sit for a few days."
After stopping at the bodega for some food and juice, then dropped him off at his apartment looking better. He wasn't tiptoeing anymore.
We exchanged phone numbers - he wanted to pay me back for getting him home.
...
About six weeks later, I got a text from the guy that put the light bulb up his ass:
"Mike, from the ER/hurricane. Dad got lucky hunting - got venison, bring cooler. Wanna watch game on Sun?"
"Sure." That sounded like fun, he seemed all right, except for the light bulb incident - still curious about that.
I'll admit I was a little curious about the Mike as well.
...
On Sunday I showed up with a six-pack and chips and Mike met me at the door of a small studio, sparely furnished apartment, but comfortable enough. No woman; no one else either, it seemed.
While we were watching the pre-game show, all the babbling and conjecture, I found out Mike had run into drug problems and went to rehab.
He'd only been out about a month when we met in the hospital.
I figured he was about twenty-four or twenty-five - usual age for young addicts to go in for help.
Then I apologized for bringing the beer.
"It's okay. Never liked the taste of beer. But I think that's all behind me now - going back to school. Computer Science major. Burned too many years with the drugs - have to catch up..." He said.
I nodded.
For some reason I felt a little anxious - the light bulb thing kept coming to mind; my stomach was a little tense - fluttering.
"Where'd your dad go hunting?" I asked, trying to distract myself.
Mike sipped his tea and explained about his father's friends had a lease in hill country.
Not hearing half of it, I occasionally glanced at his body. He had a smooth build. Not tall, but wide shoulders and narrow hips - no fat on this guy, in fact he was almost skinny, though I always considered wiriness quite masculine.
His muscles were well defined - lean and today he walked normally, relaxed posture and comfortable in his body.
Unlike me, he didn't have a dark cloud of poking out the neck of his tee shirt. Hmmm.
Looked like he didn't need to shave too often, either. Yet he had a thick head of wavy, dark brownish-black hair.
...
At half time we decided to put our pocket change on the coffee table, making bets on our teams. Mike sat back and occasionally commented - I jumped around at the close passes and the touchdowns.
He laughed at me getting so excited, and I had a buzz going after four beers. My tongue was loose, as well.
"You know, uh - well, when I met you in the ER..."
Mike blushed. "You want to know about the light bulb, right?" He didn't even look at me.
"Yeah - what was that about?" I was blushing now.
"C'mon, I'll show you." He stood and went to his bedroom, but he must have sensed my reticence. "Online."
His bedroom was as neat and spare as the rest of his apartment.
He sat in front of his computer and turned it on. Then, he looked at me and patted the bed.
"It's about your prostate." His face didn't have any expression.
With a few clicks he showed me a couple of videos about prostate massage and some hot anal stimulation with an incredibly large vibrator. There was a close-up of the slit on the masagee's erection pouring a small stream of pre.
"Didn't you ever play with your ass when you were a kid? Makes for a hard cum." He said.
I watched the videos and my jeans were tight - constrained, throbbing erection under the tail of my shirt.
"Nah. Can't remember doing that."
"Your girlfriend, she never fingers your ass when she blows you?"
"Well, first I'd have to get her to blow me..." I chuckled.
Deanna wasn't very sexually curious - though quite enthusiastic but had a non-stop sexual appetite for her favorite proclivities.
Mike explained that during the hurricane, he'd gotten bored and frustrated, and that was a kind of risky thing for him - made him want the drugs again.
He was restless and used what he had.
"Maybe it was extreme, but it was great - until I couldn't get it out." He chuckled, "Should have known better, but I'm still clean and sober."
All this information piqued my interest, but I feigned neutral acceptance and only nodded my head.
"Yeah, keep that sobriety."
We went back to the game and Mike won all my change - about a buck fifty. But he gave me a couple of big venison roasts before I left; must have left with twenty pounds of meat.
...
To Deanna's dismay, I started hanging out with Mike on Sundays, watching the games.
He came to my house one Sunday and I cooked one of the roasts with plenty of potatoes, carrots and onions in my slow cooker. Seemed he loosened up a bit more around me.
Over dinner, I found out he dealt to feed his habit - had it all at nineteen and lost it quickly, accruing some jail time in the process.
Fortunately, he got sprung early on good behavior and went straight to rehab at his father's insistence.
"You wouldn't have wanted to know me when I used - I was a bastard, really fucked up. Since I started using early, I never got my adult feet under me. Gotta work on my honesty and gratitude - acceptance, and all that."
He didn't say much more, but I had friends that got their "spin dry" and used the same terms.
Being around Mike, I started looking at how much I drank and spent on it. I cut back - way back on the beer and martinis.
It made my work easier and my day smoother - I didn't have to deal with the hangovers and the guilt about the empty calories.
Being almost ten years older than Mike, I just now figured out what he already lived - but he'd learned the hard way.
...
Sunday mornings Mike and I went to the rec center and shot baskets and worked out until we were tired, showered and got lunch, ready to watch the game.
After the playoffs - we watched basketball.
Yeah, things were more physical between us, and I thought about him saying he was "bi." Our physicality was limited to workouts and locker room bull - knuckle bumps and high-fives...
"If you want to date again..." I said. He immediately raised his eyebrows and looked at me. "I work with a lot of women - maybe find a nice gal for you."
He only nodded and smile. "Thanks, but I'd rather wait a while - maybe next year."
Then, I remembered the rehab rule - no relationships for a year after you get clean. All the emotional ups and downs can trip a person's addictions again.
"Let me know."
He nodded and smiled.
...
In March, Mike asked me if I'd like to go with him and his dad to the Gulf. Mike's dad chartered a boat to go out in the Gulf of Mexico for deep-sea fishing.
"But we have to get up at three on Saturday and we won't be back till Sunday afternoon." Mike warned me.
"Sure." I'd never been out on a charter boat before and didn't eat fish, but this sounded like fun.
All the details worked out, I showed up at two-thirty at Mikes to find him making coffee and was filling a thermos - calm and collected, as usual.
We swung by and picked up his dad and headed to the seaside town in the dark. They both fell asleep, snoring like buzz saws while I drank coffee and drove toward the coast.
When we were close to the piers, I turned the radio on for the weather forecast.
Then the crunch of the tires on the oyster shell parking lot brought them out of their dreams as we stopped. We all jumped out of the cab of the truck and pissed in dark, sounding like fire hoses.
Then, bags in hand, we strode down the pier feeling ready for the day.
The boats were abuzz with other fishermen and their crews. The captain and crew on our boat were busy and ready to go.
Bare light bulbs swung overhead like holiday lights on the pier and the smell of diesel fumes and salt air were invigorating - I was fully awake.
As the sun rose, we were so far from land there was no shore on the horizon.
We called dibs on our places and the crew helped us with the life jackets and gave us a shark lecture. I stared at the guy teaching us, thinking about losing some fingers or a hand and noticed Mike and his dad chuckling at my unease.
The smell of the water, and the bait was heady as we ate a breakfast of shrimp omelets and toasted French bread. I ate lightly, feeling a light shade of green washing through my body.
Everyone else asked for seconds but my stomach wasn't ready - wondered if I'd get seasick. I passed on the seconds more out of vanity about not wanting to spend the day leaning over the rail.
We caught grouper and snapper and the boat swayed and rocked.
I passed on lunch, feeling very much out of my element - I was feeling greener by the moment.
It was a loud day, radio playing, guys yelling and the roar of the wind in my ears.
Without much sleep, and all the noise and movement, I was feeling a deep olive green.
By dinner I was exhausted, and went below to the bunkroom or whatever they call it on a boat - by that time, I didn't care about being nautically correct.
Falling on the thin mattress of the bunk, I fell asleep immediately.
Maybe a few hours later, I felt a hand on my shoulder.
"Move over." It was Mike.
Still drowsy, I simply turned to the wall.
In the damp, cool air his skin was warm. He wrapped his arm around me and stayed close, but not moving.
We were both fully dressed; sans shoes, but dressed in what we'd worn since we'd left early that morning.
It felt like we slept like brothers, though I'd never had a brother. The boat rocked in the quiet darkness around us. We were warm together in the cool air. That felt good - comfortable.
Okay, I'll say it - it felt sweet and I welcomed human touch.
Mike was gone before I woke.
The next morning we fished from dawn till around ten and headed back to land. The crew cleaned our catch, and I had plenty for a fish fry.
I figured I'd look like the good guy by opening my house to some friends and their dates - get the gals to cook for us.
...
Mike didn't say anything about sleeping with me - I didn't either, but I wanted to.
"Thanks" sounded a little weird and I couldn't think of anything else that didn't sound romantic. So I kept my mouth shut until I could play innocent.
After we dropped his dad off, I asked. "Did you come to my bunk last night? I was so tired, I don't remember much."
"Yeah. Hope you don't mind, Dad's on a high-fiber diet."
After he explained that he left the bunk next to his dad because the poor man went off like an air cannon often, I had to laugh.
"Glad to help." That sounded manly enough.
...
Deanna, as I look back, lost interest in me. Seems I wasn't good enough on Tuesday and Saturday nights; I lost interest in her though the sex was still great. It felt like it was time to move on.
She'd be fine, I'm sure. Professional woman with good looks and damn, she was smart! The only kind of woman to date!
Though she never asked, I felt like she wanted more than I was ready to commit to, somehow feeling it wasn't right, though my parents encouraged me.
Couldn't see myself there - maybe I was cavalier thinking I'd find another woman to marry and settle down with - have a few kids... Maybe I was just lazy, and kept telling myself I wasn't ready for all the responsibility.
Got wedding invitations from the women I'd dated. I tossed them unopened.
My calls to Deanna became more sporadic, and she always had an excuse.
...
Going into the baseball season, Mike, his dad and I went to the local training camp to check out the talent.
To me baseball was like chess - too slow. Needed a lot of beer for me to get through a game. Mike's dad told us that the minor league teams were different - a lot more fun and a lot cheaper, too.
"These guys are hungry enough to hustle on the diamond!" Mike Sr. advised me.
As they stood together in the bleachers of a glorified Little League field, Mike and his Dad looked like Mike's mom had been a copier - Mike was a younger version of his dad.
It was almost too cute to see them together, as if they should have been wearing matching shirts and shorts.
Both dark haired, thick with waves - always unsuccessfully pushed back out of their faces. Both short; wiry with a deep tan to their skin. They had deep brown eyes with eyelashes so thick they looked like they used eyeliner.
The best parts of them were their big smiles and open faces.
Chamorro - Mike Sr. was born on Guam, and married a Latina. Mike's mother had returned to Oaxaca when Mike was young, so these guys were tight.
I must have looked like big, white potato sitting next to them, but a man can't help his bulk, and most of mine was muscle.
Well, most of it.
Oddly, when Mike went to bring more sodas, Mike Sr. told me that he was glad that Mike had a good friend.
Then he added that he was sure I'd be "respectful and responsible" in my relationship with his son.
Of course, I agreed. I could drink anytime, and had given up most of it already.
I took them back to my house for venison I'd slow-cooked all day and we feasted.
When Mike Sr. readied to leave, I noticed he hugged his son closely and whispered in his ear, then kissed him on his cheek.
"Love you guys!" He said as he backed out the driveway.
...
Back in the house, I began cleaning the kitchen in my usual half-assed way when Mike came in and straightened me out about the workflow of meal clean up.
I had to smile as he stood by the sink with his soft instructions.
"Let's try another order for this mess, get it done a lot quicker."
This was the first time anyone had really shown me any housekeeping tricks. If I couldn't clean something quickly, I usually threw it away and bought another one.
He leaned over for the bottle of soap and his arm touched mine, close enough for me to smell his sweat and he leaned into me - just slightly.
For some reason, an erection stirred. I looked at his face. He glanced at me, but continued filling the sink and adding the soap.
The next thing I did was my usual, dip shit way of approaching anything involving emotional content:
"Why... What... What's that about - you going to kiss me or something?" I asked, feeling my stomach wobble - it sounded like a threat of some sort and I was immediately ashamed of myself.
The heat rose on my skin when I realized I was speaking from my own want.
He just looked at me, and lowered a stack of plates into the hot, sudsy water.
"Do you want to kiss me?" He asked.
Well, I deserved that. I couldn't answer; I was "straight as an arrow."
So I made a slick move and went into the dining room and gathered up more of what needed cleaning.
Ditch and dodge - this "feelings" thing overwhelmed me and for some reason, I wanted to talk to Mike about personal things.
When I came back to the kitchen, "What do I do with these?"
I noticed his Mike's eyes were filled with tears, almost ready to streak down his face. He lifted his shoulder to wipe his face on his sleeve - I grabbed a towel and wiped his face.
"I was out of line." I'd said that a lot in my life around these issues.
"Let's finish this up, we'll talk." He said.
Shit! I hated the women-talks about emotions and feelings - I just let things rush through me and moved on with what I wanted to do. Before I met Mike, I usually drank things away and went on to my next diversion.
Yeah, being a big white guy with semi-good looks I got away with a lot of shit, and doped away any of the sharp edges of guilt that lingered.
...
Maybe I was sweating a little, but when Mike sat down, he noticed.
I felt like I was about to get set back in my place, like when I was young and my parent's had caught me at something forbidden.
But when Mike sat beside me, he handed me the remote control.
"Turn it off."
I did.
Surprisingly, he put his hand over mine, lightly.
"You know I've been in rehab..." He started. "Well, there were some other things - when I was young." He paused.
"When I was around ten, I met a guy - he was older and..."
Mike went on to describe how he'd met a pedophile who had used him. Mike was sexualized early, and the perv ditched him when puberty started - when his body started changing.
His predator preferred pre-pubescent boys only.
"He used me for a while - I thought it would last. I thought he loved me - but that's how children think. What did I know? Then, he was gone - never saw him again."
I moved my hand and put it around his shoulder.
"I'd never have guessed. You seem like you've got your head on straight now."
"Relationships are difficult for me. I have to take it slow and examine each feeling as it happens. To me, sex and love get confused. Can't let that confusion replay in my life again - gets me nothing but heartache. Makes me want to use again." He paused.
"So, do I want to kiss you? Yeah, I have for a long time... I have things as strong as lust very carefully - examine the surrounding feelings first. If it's just a physical need, well, I'll take care of that myself. Do you understand?"
I nodded, that made sense. But he continued.
"I want a quality relationship - more stability. Sex I can get anywhere, love is a rare treasure two people build between them. That's what I want."
I thought about what he said and finally, I slowed down and considered the hints this man was giving me about his past, and remembered incidents in my own life when I was young.
"I think I understand. Promised your dad I'd be respectful and responsible - is that what he's talking about?"
"Dad still doesn't know about the perv. He's talking about the drugs and alcohol."
"Oh." I paused. "That's what I thought."
Mike leaned against my shoulder. "You've been a good friend, helped me out of my isolation - I think I can take a full load and an extra class next semester. Thanks."
"You've brought a lot of good to my life, too." He smiled when I said that.
Then, my uncouth self blurted out - "Do you really want to kiss me?"
Mike put his hand on my chest and my heart beat like a bass drum in my ears. I blushed.
"Are you saying you want to kiss me?" He asked again.
I let myself go.
I lifted his chin and kissed him lightly on the lips and watched his face redden.
It felt funny to kiss lips that had a little stubble around them, but Mike's lips were soft and warm. I think I felt them quiver as I touched them with mine.
He paused, his face close to mine and finally turned away, "I'd better wait."
Glancing downward, I could see his arousal; I was erect and dampening my boxers with what felt like several pints of pre.
Instead of putting a direct manual hit on him, pinching his nipples and forcing his head against me like I did with women, I only smiled.
This one I'd wait for. Mike would set our personal agenda, I hoped. None of this was as foreign as I thought it might be - all came easily - naturally.
In a brilliant moment of humility, "Do I need to apologize?"
He didn't answer me, but put the remote back in my hand and gathered his things to go home with a smile.
...
In the next weeks, Mike enrolled in his next semester, and I often went to pick him up after classes.
He was doing well, and seemed to enjoy getting his prerequisites out of the way before he jumped into Computer Science.
I asked for a copy of his schedule so I could drop him off and pick him up from classes for a little more time with him.
I didn't get his schedule.
"Stop with the control, please." He told me. "If I need a ride, I'll call."
No woman had ever been that clear with me. But he was right. I was "herding" him into my life - must have felt as if I was cornering my prey.
Yep, I apologized. Should have recorded that - I seldom said I was sorry about anything - but I kept thinking about what he'd said - "building a treasure." That was a conversation that I was curious about - how is that treasure built, and what would it look like?
Unfortunately, our weekends were spent with me watching sports and Mike on his computer with his homework.
Sometimes Mike Sr. would join me on the couch. We chowed down on snacks, yelling with every score while Mike watched from his desk to the side typing away.
Mike Sr. was a mellow guy with a good sense of humor, not quiet like Mike. He made awful jokes and yelled along with me when our teams won.
After one game, we were in the kitchen and he slipped me some information.
"You know Mike is very fond of you."
"Yeah, he's my best bud." I said.
"No, I mean he feels very deeply for you." Mike Sr. was as organized in the kitchen as Mike, and handed me dishes to dry and put away.
"Be careful with my son, he's still fragile."
I nodded and smiled. "I noticed. I'm careful."
...
Toward the spring break, I decided to take some time off and asked Mike to visit my family's lake house, "Bring Dad if you want - good fishing up there."
Mike gave me an odd look.
"If you want, just thought you'd need a break from the books."
Mike just stood in front of the computer, deep in thought.
I could tell he was thinking about the sleeping arrangements, and possibly getting more than he wanted from me.
It occurred to me in that moment that maybe he didn't feel fully safe around me.
Without thinking, I went over to him, wrapping him in my arms, and I kissed him again, feeling a jolt of electricity through my body.
"Nothing funny - maybe a little cuddle if you want. That's all."
No comment from Mike.
The jackass in me took the microphone, "Mike, I'd like some more personal time with you. I'd like to be closer, and I've never done this... With a man..."
"I know. Could end up in a disaster - risky proposition for me." He said.
"Couldn't I say the same thing?" I whispered back and felt his erection rubbing against mine.
Damn, that felt good.
Huffing his aftershave and shampoo, "I think we're both adult enough to try - we can stop anytime if things don't work out."
Then my secrets tumbled out, "You arouse me in a lot of ways. Never felt like this. Never did anything like this before - and damn... Can't stop thinking about you."
He didn't answer, letting me realize that I'd just described a man in love with another man.
"Shit, I've gotten myself into a fix now." I thought. I put myself back into that uncomfortable arena of feelings.
Then I felt the yoke of the label "gay" and considered the repercussions in my family and at work, but set that aside for the moment.
"Look at me Mike, give me some answer." I'd just taken a big chance - "Get straight with me. I just took one of the biggest risks of my life."
Mike looked at me, and lifted his hands to my face and kissed me gently; I felt a damp spot on my briefs when his tongue found mine.
In that moment, it wasn't about anything below my waist, but about feeling warm, accepted and wanted by a human I admired and respected.
Things became a little clearer after that awkward exchange.
We spent the rest of the evening cuddling and kissing on the couch in warm embrace.
He told me he wasn't ready for sex, though we were both hot and full.
For some reason, that was okay with me to leave things where they were.
I couldn't get enough of his tongue and touches and I knew I had to keep him feeling safe with me or blow myself out of the water entirely with him.
...
At the end of his semester I offered Mike a room in my house to help him save money - he got a small allotment from the government and assistance with his tuition.
We decided that he would move in over his semester break, and I'd take time off to help.
When we began moving, Mike Sr. came to help and brought some extras for Mike, like a new bed, a bigger desk and a new computer!
Mike was thrilled with all the goodies and lower rent - he insisted we have a contract and clear boundaries regarding the bathroom, kitchen and chores.
Boundaries! Another woman-thing, but it did help me understand his need for privacy and cleanliness.
Of course I agreed to everything and by Thursday night, our house was in order - Mike's things were organized neatly, quickly put in their place.
I guess something I did made him feel more relaxed and trusting.
Mike and Mike Sr. cooked some of the fish that we'd caught and we ate hearty - I found out fish wasn't so bad with some kind of sauce they made.
I ate green vegetables that night - something I'd sworn off long ago. The guys laughed at me, but it was a good dinner filled with laughter.
As Mike Sr. left, he hugged his son and whispered to him, then kissed him on the cheek and left.
There was something significant about that exchange. I wondered what Mike Sr. told him before Mike and I were sleeping under the same roof, though in separate rooms for the first time since we'd met.
Yeah, I was excited, and in the dark parts of my mind, I hoped Mike would come to my bed in the night, or maybe I should go to his - but that might cause distrust.
That dilemma was solved when I heard him get up at around eleven. He was in the kitchen doing something.
"Can't sleep?" I asked.
"New bed, new place and all." Mike didn't look at me. There was a long silence.
Then, I took another chance. "I'd like to cuddle with you for a while, if you'd like, and hold you... That's all."
He didn't say anything.
"My door is open." I left it at that and went back to my bed feeling I'd pushed him too hard, too fast.
...
In bed, I tried every trick I knew to fall asleep but kept thinking of Mike's wiry, almost hairless body against mine and kissing him again, holding him against me as hard as I could.
So I stroked one off, got my headphones and put on some new age music and pulled the blanket over my face.
Don't know what time it was, but I felt the bed move, and the blanket pulled aside in the cool darkness of the room.
I didn't move.
Then I felt the smooth warmth of his skin, and I wrapped my arms around Mike's body.
This had to last a long time, I thought as I pulled the headphones off.
All my other relationships were hard and fast affairs - get off fast and go at it again, but this was different.
The courage Mike showed to come to my bed naked and vulnerable had to be treated delicately.
Tenderly - that would be the best way to go.
I tried being tender, but lust got in my way so I settled for slow. It took every ounce of strength I had to keep my hips still.
...
After several weeks of sleeping together, Mike was more relaxed. I was too, but I wanted to continue proving I wasn't another person who wanted to take advantage of him - exploit his size or his age or the rebuilding process he focused on.
It surprised me to see him in bed waiting for me one night, reading by the soft golden glow of the bedside lamp. It made my heart feel full.
Cuddling and kissing Mike felt comfortable - if this was gay, it was all right by me, I could live like this easily.
In that moment, I admitted to myself that I'd wanted this for a long time. All the attempts with women, again and again were physically satisfying, sure. Being alongside Mike was more than that.
It felt strong, and balanced - incredibly arousing and carried the promise of more comfortable times.
...
Maybe it was because he was a smaller guy, his erection seemed incredibly big. I touched his groin lightly one night.
"Make a little love with me?" I put myself into a potentially disastrous position again - We'd only been cuddling up to that point but it had been over a year since he went got out rehab. Yeah, I kept track of that.
He turned fully to my chest and our erections rubbed. Seemed to be a lot of moisture between us all of a sudden, and the smell of his musk almost overwhelmed me - so immediately addictive.
He moved himself slowly to my nipples and began sucking and licking. My hips jerked and I was more erect than I had been in years and began to sweat.
He rubbed his erection on my thigh, smearing his pre-cum on my skin; new and exciting.
I was about to shoot, so I had to stop him.
"I'm gonna cum if you don't stop." I began kissing him again.
With just a few movements, he straddled my face, leaned over me and took my erection in his lips.
This position I knew, and began licking the tip of his erection, gently slipping my tongue under his foreskin, pushing it back all the way and exploring his slit with my tongue.
My hands went to his tiny ball sac, and I felt his testicles. Small and tight - as I touched him, I gave him the touches I'd always enjoyed and for a split second, I thought I knew what he was feeling...
Did he know what I was feeling at the same time?
But he was sucking and licking and I was ready, so I pushed him away again.
"Too much, slow down." I told him and brought his face back to mine.
"I want our first time to be special. Anyone can screw, and this needs to be - well, different - more than special." I whispered, feeling like I sounded like some kind of goofy greeting card.
That brought a lot of kisses from Mike, and he spoke so calmly.
"Thank you, thank you."
"For what?" I asked.
"Not using me."
"I don't want to use or force you - that's not what I want. You're more than a cock squeeze and an ego stroke." I paused and asked for what I wanted.
"Do you know what I fantasize about?" I asked him.
"No, not really."
"C'mere." I sat up leaning against the headboard and asked him to straddle my lap and put his arms around my neck.
"I want to feel you against me and watch you cum."
His face snuggled into my neck, and then he looked in my eyes as I wrapped my hands around his hips, finding his cleft and feeling the smooth skin behind his scrotum.
"You're a beautiful man." I whispered. "God, you're so hot."
That got me a big kiss, and I was almost ready to pass out feeling him on me and filling my hands.
"I feel awkward, I only looked at some porn, so tell me when I do something you like, or you don't like. Okay?"
Mike's musk filled my head, but I wanted to see him cum, feel his excitement and hold him while during his bliss-state.
He nodded.
I took one hand and wrapped it gently around his erection, looking down to see his slit oozing pre-cum, and gently began to stroke. My other hand only lightly stroked along his cleft, teasing his hot rosebud.
"Is it good?" I asked.
Mike purred and I felt his hand on my erection.
"Oh, god. Yes." Was all that I could manage to express through my lust.
The pressure in my balls climbed near explosion levels again. I wrapped him in my arms and pulled him against me, our hard dripping cocks rubbing.
I knew it wouldn't be too long - this was too rich and so quiet. Only the clicks of the liquid on our hands rubbing the other's erection and soft moans and heavy breathing.
I had to split my brain - one part bringing him to orgasm and the other holding my own climax until he was ready. Damn hard task, but I tried my best.
In a moment, "Can't wait." I whispered and I felt his lips on mine and his hips hunching against me.
When he did that, I pressed the pads of two of my fingers into his anus and felt his erection twitching and his sphincter tighten.
He tightened his grip around my erection and I went on autopilot as I felt hot rushes upward and his lips on mine as our semen hit our chests and we struggled to breathe through our sweaty pleasure.
We both continued stroking for a moment, then Mike looked down at my chest and brought our cum to his mouth, I smiled and scraped some from his chest and licked it from my fingers.
His eyes were so soft, I think he may have had tears, but I pulled him against my sticky chest and thanked him.
"Thanked him?" I thought - I'd never said thanks for sex! Never! Women were lucky to get my dick!
The taste of our cum in our kisses was heady, and an incredible sense of satisfaction and calm settled around us.
Mike didn't want to shower, but brought a warm washcloth to wipe our offerings to each other.
When he came back to bed, we both became erect again.
"Do you want my ass?" He asked, though it didn't sound so sincere - I imagined him saying that to the perv that had taught him and taken his child-sized hole.
"Not now." I kissed him sweetly and didn't let on I hadn't read all the preparatory instructions. Seemed like there was a lot of washing and rinsing that needed to be accomplished ahead of time.
"Do you want my ass?" I felt that was egalitarian, and I was unsure. I even wondered if I'd asked correctly - I had no gay vocabulary.
"Let's wait. I want our time to be special with you." Mike whispered.
With that he turned me on my side and kissed me while his finger went between my cheeks, finding my anus and he began rubbing, applying a little spit occasionally.
Wasn't long before I gasped when his slender finger invaded my very private and certainly virginal rectum.
I lay still, allowing him to give me a new experience. My trepidations waned as I slowly I became partially erect; trying to stay calm like I knew what was going to happen.
Mike was gentle, "I want to put myself inside you and cum. But it has to be just right - like a celebration."
That's when an incredibly exciting feeling came through my body and I jerked. Mike hummed, "that's your sweet spot."
Pre-cum was dripping out of my half-erect penis and I continued laying still, but my breath was fast and my heart was pounding.
Keeping his finger inside me making that incredible sensation, he moved his lips to my glans and gave me one small kiss while his finger rubbed deeply and quickly inside me.
That sent me over the edge, and I felt like I was exploding a gallon of pre-cum, then my penis rose in complete tumescence and almost screamed with another ejaculation.
It all happened so fast, and felt so strong, like a dam had burst inside me.
Just as quickly, a feeling of emptiness settled in testicles for a moment, then a slightly singed satisfaction.
I closed my eyes and brought him to my lips. "Anytime you want to do that cut the chatter and get do it."
From his need for order and cleanliness, he brought a warm washcloth and performed partial ablutions on my rear like the gentleman he is.
When he came back to bed, we snuggled all night, satisfied and wrapped in a stronger closeness.
Through some kind of magic, or maybe a lot of patience, we became deeply trusting with each other in bed.
...
The next morning we had a great breakfast and Mike was back in his books until I suggested we go swimming at the rec center, and then out for dinner.
He turned his nose up at going out for dinner, but had his gym bag in his hand almost immediately.
We had a good workout and joined a group of water volleyball players for a while. For the first time I was able to fully enjoy his shape.
Trim and flat - not many curves on him, but fast reactions. He scored a number of points in the volleyball game.
On the way home, I suggested he go out for the volleyball or swimming team at college. That would be hot to watch him on the courts winning.
"Not yet. Still catching up."
As we prepared dinner, I asked why he didn't want to go out to eat. He said that he preferred being home.
"It feels closer - more comfortable here."
"Are you isolating?" I asked, just out of curiosity - maybe he didn't want to be seen with me in public.
He didn't answer me for a long time. "It feels secure and calm eating at home."
"Is this about the addictions?"
"Partly - yeah. I'd probably wait till you were distracted and order a bottle of wine for starters. It'd only get worse from there. Let's wait to go out - but going to Dad's is okay."
During dinner, Mike explained that the alcohol and drugs were part of his relationship with his predator, and it triggered a lot of dependent behaviors.
"Not the man I want to be." He said and dropped the topic.
I couldn't understand why a grown man would give a young child drugs, but I knew they were out there.
"Let me know how I can help." I offered.
"Go online and learn to cook." He winked and ate his soggy egg sandwich.
"Call Dad and tell him we'll bring dinner on Sunday. I know how to cook - you know that."
"You cook like a cave man. You throw everything into a pot, turn the heat on high and leave it there until its mush - not complaining, but..."
"Yeah! I can cook lots of good things." I lied.
Mike whipped out his phone to call his Dad, and we made our plans.
With that bit of sarcasm, it felt like the real Mike, the full man was coming forward.
After his foray into my bed I was appreciating him more for how he thought his careful planning and knowing he was still vulnerable and pushing forward. Maybe I was part of his strength.
He had amazing self-control - something I lacked, but was learning the longer I was around him.
...
I went shopping for groceries while Mike was studying.
Mike made lists - a new experience for me. Imagine not having to make six trips to remember the bathroom tissue!
But I followed the list, bought some extras and read the back of a cake mix box and bought the ingredients for some kind of gooey cake with fruit and chocolate.
Perusing the meat aisle, I found ham then went and got vegetables for New England boiled dinner. Easy enough.
This would require the slow cooker, but I thought I could read the instructions so dinner wouldn't be pulpy.
Baby wipes, condoms, tissues, and lube went in the basket as well, and I felt quite satisfied and studied the "personal hygiene" section.
Opening my phone I found the information I needed and bought that item as well.
...
Mike was finishing his papers on his computer but came outside as I came unloaded the truck.
In that moment, I relished having help in my life. He was smiling and carrying along with me - excited to see what I'd found.
In the kitchen I began putting the groceries away as he inspected them.
"Ham and vegetables - would your dad like that?"
"Sure, he eats anything."
Mike found the condoms and the bulb syringe and blushed.
"You're going to have to show me how to use that." I blushed as well.
He grinned, "Sure."
When he found the cake mix I pointed to the picture on the back.
"Gonna make this for Sunday."
"It may require measuring, and folding the batter - buttering and dusting the pan. You know - some culinary expertise." He looked up at me.
"That's why you're here." I moved along stocking the shelves and he went back to his work giving him a wink.
Yeah, that was a great dinner with fruit inside a cake after a big, hearty meal.
As we left, Mike Sr. hugged his son, whispering to him and kissing his cheek. Then, surprisingly, he opened his arms to me and gave me a hug.
...
That night, Mike gave me a personal demonstration on using the bulb syringe.
I decided we needed a shower hose. The next day I ordered one.
We kept grinning and laughing as we installed it.
Much faster and I never thought a piece of plumbing could cause such a thrill. But it built our anticipation for our first time.
We decided to enjoy anal sex together for our first time, on New Years Eve. Hey, the guy wanted a sex to celebrate our lives!
That had a special feeling to it and our intimacies were more than sufficient while we waited.
I'll admit I had apprehension about anal sex, and it felt good to feel that kind of excitement for Mike.
...
Life with Mike was good, I learned a lot. Very different perspective on things than me, and we never argued or fussed.
But I was facing my own devils.
Loving Mike felt natural and easy. I loved a man and he loved me.
Homosexual, or at least bisexual were the labels, but those words didn't encompass any richness of our lives together. Labels never capture the funny, satisfying or complicated parts of human relations.
I wanted to take him to meet my parents.
"How did you know you were bisexual or gay? Does your Dad know?" I asked Mike.
He burst out laughing. "Dad told me I was gay - I think I was about seven or eight. He's my dad, he knows everything about me - well except about the exploitation, but he probably knows that and won't say anything. He doesn't want me to relapse."
"Are you bisexual?" I asked, trying to sort things out by category.
"I've been with women, and men - when I was using. My life was a crazy mess then..."
Didn't want to know any more about that.
"I want you to meet my parents and for them to know we're a couple. Not sure quite how to do it." I said.
"Go online, but there's some people downtown at the LGBTQ center that might help."
When we were finished with dinner, I called the "gay line" and spoke with a man who was very helpful, and he gave me the phone number of one of their counselors who worked during business hours.
The next day at work, I sneaked out to my truck and called. They gave me a lot of ideas, and told me that it didn't need to create a confrontation, but simply offer my parents a new side of me for them to appreciate.
"They'll get over the grandparent thing, or you could adopt..." I was informed.
Jeez, things had changed a lot since I learned about homosexuality in the encyclopedia at the back of the library.
I decided on a more subtle approach. Downloading all my photos from the baseball games, the fishing trip, our dinners and different events, I started emailing my parents - deluging them with photos of Mike, Mike Sr. and me.
Dad finally called me.
...
"What's going on with all the photos? Who are these guys? You going back to running? Is that your new trainer or something?"
"That's my friend Mike and his Dad. Great pair - I'd like you to meet them sometime."
He was quiet for a while, "So that's what happened to Deanna."
"Dad - don't get upset..."
"It's okay. Your mom and I have been waiting for you to tell us." He started. "You know how your mom is. She figured you'd dated over thirty women she knows about - we've been waiting for you to figure it out."
"You're not going to get upset about me having a boyfriend?"
"Son, you're not the type to put on any airs like some gays do, but still - we didn't want you to have to face a lot of problems - you know. We've only want you to be happy and healthy. If that's with another man - well, what can we say?z"
I was taken aback by this, but my parents had a somewhat liberal bend. Still, this felt strange.
Dad moved the conversation forward, "So - when are we going to meet these guys? That's got to be a father and son, they look so much alike. You dating both of them or what?"
Chuckling, "No, just the son. But his dad's a great guy."
"Friday night? I'll tell Mom you're bringing friends." He waited.
"Well - I'll see."
"Don't worry, Mom's cool with it. We haven't had dinner together in almost a year."
Kinda funny hearing my dad use the word "cool," and I felt relieved with a spark of excitement.
"Let me check, I'll get back with you."
After that call, a flicker of pride grew inside me. Don't know if that was gay pride, but pride in having very good people close to me in my life; people who wanted to keep me close.
...
Mike and I took Mike Sr. and dinner went better than I expected.
Mom served an incredible southern gourmet dinner - if such a thing exists. Then, we had to wait for one of an ice cream bombe to be brought onto the patio under the dull glow of a flambé.
Lots of photos, lots of laughs, lots of hugs and kisses.
Like Dad said, Mom was cool with me and my boyfriend, though I suspected it was Mike's quiet charm that eased things so well with her.
Mike Sr. and Dad sat on the patio, with my dad downing bourbon and water, the rest of us drinking glasses of iced tea when they started swapping lies like old friends.
Yeah, Mom noticed that and didn't say anything.
...
Several weeks later, Mike, his dad and I flew to LA to meet Mike's sister who had five children - beautiful family. They'd planned a cookout and celebration at the beach with a big bonfire and music.
Mike's sister bought me a skirt to wear to the cookout.
It was a traditional costume for Chamorro men, and I put it on, but my boxers kept peeking out around the top and bottom.
I was told not to wear a shirt, so I slathered on the sunscreen and we all went to the beach for the bonfire along with a large group of kids and Mike.
Mike wore his own brightly colored "loin wrap" looked much better on him. He told me he was naked underneath his costume. That got my attention; I suspected his father and all the other men in their wraps were the same...
Yeah, I tried to discretely check that out, but Mike caught me and wagged his finger in my face and grinned.
Not being able to summon the courage to go "Chamorro-commando," I accepted the fact that peeks of my underwear were going around the world in all the pictures they took and sent.
Though there weren't any comments about homosexuality or our age difference - there were plenty of giggles about my boxers, though - especially from the kids.
...
At school, Mike kept a 4.0GPA, so he lined up his scholarships and sailed through his programming courses, with a minor in math.
He didn't go out for any of the sports, but he was student body president, and seemed to enjoy it.
Mike Sr. and I took Mike to buy a new suit and have tailored - he looked great! Then, he had to have several shirts, new shoes - all the right touches.
He'd have to start interviewing for a job after he graduated in a few months.
Sure, I dropped a lot on that outfit, but it was worth it to see him absolutely shine with confidence as a new professional.
In the dressing room, I had to make sure the zipper on that new suit worked well enough for my standards, but Mike started laughing and his father came in and shook his head and rolled his eyes.
Oh, well!
The next week, Mike Sr. brought a leather attaché and a trench coat for Mike's outfit.
Now Mike would be plunged into the public - exposed to a lot of guys a lot better looking than me.
...
Mike was an amazing guy - he actually roped me into a "Men's Health" seminar at the LGBTQ center on a Saturday. I think he may have been researching some of the local non-profits for a good employer.
Yeah, I blushed when we walked in, and then I saw faces I knew from work.
Trying not to be recognized, I perused the brochures on the tables and kept a low profile near the door.
Not allowed!
The guys from work came up to me and shook my hand and welcomed me. Instead of them feeling as embarrassed as I did, they were laughing and smiling, obviously comfortable in a gay center and enjoying their camaraderie.
I introduced Mike, and a couple of them lifted an eyebrow and gave a suggestive move.
Yeah, that brought up some protective feelings about Mike and a little jealousy, and I let Mike handle his relationships - hard as that was.
That was an interesting seminar, and I learned a lot about my body - they distributed a list of doctors who were familiar with gay men and their health issues as well as how to treat their patients with dignity and respect.
Never thought I had much of a choice about doctors, or that they wouldn't be accepting about my preferences. That was a rude awakening!
Mike made a few notes during the seminar. I didn't peek.
The presenters talked about the spa. That sounded great, a spa just for men, then I found out what happened there. Anonymous sex.
I didn't say anything, but looked over to Mike; he was listening intently, but glanced at me and smiled.
On the way home, I asked if he wanted to go to a spa. He already had, and didn't like them.
"I have what I want at home." He winked at me and asked if we could get a hot tub for the backyard.
"Sure." That was a much better idea.
...
We looked toward the holidays together, planning visits and cooking some easy cookies and treats. Yeah, Mike still had to help me out, especially when the marshmallow fluff became obstinate.
He added a little food coloring and flavors here and there, and I was proud to show off our treats at the different gatherings. Absolutely delicious and topped with glittery sugar and silver candies - something I'd always ignored.
Mike took odd jobs repairing computers and I could take time to visit our families and do the holiday dinner circuit together.
When champagne glasses were raised, Mike and I lifted our water glasses and toasted the holidays - I'd squeeze his hand and whisper "New Year's Eve."
He always blushed, and I grinned.
In my mind, I was planning to ask him to marry me on New Years Eve as we became fully, physically joined the first time.
I ordered rings online - I could see getting gray hair with this guy and keeping a warm home with him beside me.
In my wildest teen dreams I never figured this might happen, but it felt right.
More importantly, I wanted it - to be this close with a man and to need sex as the ultimate expression of our feelings - in a strong union. Maybe I didn't want it as much as I needed it - being with Mike completed my life.
This wasn't a foreign feeling or any kind of sample, but something that had grown inside me since I burned my foot with the acid. Mike's gentle nature had only watered a seed that was waiting to sprout.
I was looking forward to intimacy with Mike - only a little unsure as the end of the year drew near.
I had no idea what to expect other than extreme pleasure from entering him, so I'd studied the positions and prepared myself in several ways to make this a night to remember.
Mike had continued helping me relax and take more fingers up my butt, and it was wonderful. He didn't want the favor returned - he wanted to wait.
We went online and found a vibrator that became my favorite toy for a while, but I ached for the closeness of him bearing into me deeply.
Don't think there was any "daddy" going on - Mike would never let that happen, but I wanted to protect him the way one lover protects another.
...
Mike and I took Mike Sr. to my parent's house on New Year's Eve for dinner, and the entire family was warmer and more accepting.
We had an easy evening talking and reminiscing.
Funny how people remember things so differently, so there was plenty of embarrassment to go around that night, especially after Dad brought the home movies out. But it went well. We'd brought Mom a big, flashy fruit basket and Mike picked out one of the newer perfumes on the market. Dad got a bright loin cloth from Guam, I told him he had to wear it at our wedding.
We left early, anticipating our closeness.
When we got in the house, we began undressing immediately.
The shower hose turned out to be an incredibly hot toy; I loved cleaning Mike's butt, while he groaned with pleasure - his pleasure aroused me incredibly.
He liked using a lot of water pressure making me laugh, but tonight we became silent as we neared the bedroom.
My stomach had knots thinking about him penetrating me.
In the bedroom, I lit candles and told him how much I loved him - he made my life complete - finally I'd found happiness.
"I'm trying not to be possessive, but I want you with me for a long time - you're not trolling on campus are you?"
He laughed, "I love our home, and you know I love you, but I'm always thinking you'll be looking for a younger guy."
We chuckled at our own silliness - would we have invested this much in each other without love?
All the patience and waiting, and caring... all the changes... It had been over two years since the hurricane that brought us together in the ER. Tonight we'd start our new year closer than we'd been before.
"It's time." I whispered. In each other's arms we kissed and fondled each other.
My breathing became fast, and a surge of sweat coated my skin as I turned him on his back and lifted his legs.
He only smiled, caressing my face and placed his feet on my shoulders.
But I shoved his knees harder toward his shoulders and became dizzy with the smell of his musk.
Sucking and nipping around his anus, he moaned, and I went for more.
Reaching under the pillow, he handed me the lube, "Don't make me wait. I need you." I pushed some lube inside him, and slathered more on my erection.
"Look at me." I demanded.
I watched his face as I place my glans at his anus and felt him push against me in the most intimate kiss he could have given me in that moment.
"More." He whispered.
I watched his face as I pressed past his sphincters. I was expecting a difficult entry, but it was easy, and incredibly tight around my glans, then inside!
Mike's eyes rolled back, and almost closed as his lips made a little "o."
Plowing through his velvety hot tunnel, parting the folds ahead of my glans while the tight band around my shaft was almost too much to pleasure to bear.
Damn! This was addictive it was so good.
Mike moaned, bringing me out of my own thoughts, and I pulled back and felt an incredible suction around my rod.
Pushing back into him, I felt that incredible, heady feeling again.
"Deep, lover - deeper and harder." Mike groaned lifting his ass higher for me - his shaft was dripping his pre-cum into his navel and it made a puddle that overflowed, running down the side of his torso.
Not hard to accommodate that request but it shoved me toward climax immediately, and I wanted this to go on for several hours.
For a few moments, I couldn't stop pushing, not pulling back, only thrusting deeper, as my scrotum pressed into his rear. Shifting my hips, I explored new areas, warmer and slipperier. Why did it feel like his ass was sucking me toward release?
This was starting to feel out of my control.
His hands came to my nipples and he tweaked, and pulled. That sent me higher into the pleasure, and I lost control as I felt the hot rushes racing upward into my lover.
I closed my eyes to focus on the sensations and pressed as hard as I could into Mikes bent body. Pushed, I pushed with every rush of semen - pushing my rod and my cum as deeply into him as I could - as if my glans wanted to be deep enough to touch his heart.
As my rushes slowed, I felt Mike's contractions around my weakening shaft, and saw his chest splattered with his pale cum.
That was one of the most beautiful moments of my life!
I relaxed my grip on his thighs and lifted my weight off of him, but waited until my penis was soft to take it out, that's when he told me he felt empty without me.
I felt my cum dripping out of his sweet ass, and went to lick him but stopped.
"Lover, sweet lover..." I stood up, and put my penis near his face. "Look."
I pulled my foreskin back, "Even if the power goes out again, you'll never need another light bulb again."
"It's a hundred-watt floodlight bulb." I showed him my new tattoo.
"What?" He grabbed my penis and looked closely, "A light bulb! August 18th!" He read and laughed.
"Yeah, I commemorated the way we met."
He wanted to take a picture, but I refused so he kissed it several times.
I explained that I'd kept the lights off in the bedroom and had to dodge him several times to keep it a secret for the past few days.
"Make me a happier man." I said wanting to give him the incredible sensations I'd just enjoyed.
So, Mike brought eggnog and cookies - not what I meant at all.
"You know, I'm glad we waited - I had trepidations." I admitted.
He laughed, but continued eating his cookie, took the tube of gel and pressed the tip of it against my anus and squeezed it hard injecting my rectum with the goo.
My eyes opened widely - "That's cold!"
"I'll heat it up." He nonchalantly finished his eggnog and held the rest of his cookie in his mouth and put it to my lips. I took it and ate it watching him lube his shaft.
"You're a beautiful man." I whispered.
"You're my beautiful virgin tonight." He replied, "On your side, like how we cuddle."
That made me hard thinking of all the erections and desire I felt for all the months. He'd felt the same.
With his arms around my chest, he slid his glans along my cleft, slowly and easily. He stopped at my anus.
"Push against me, lover." He whispered.
I did, and it was new for me, sent new shivers through me, and excited me. He waited for me to breathe and pushed further.
"Unngh." My breathing became hard, and my erection filled and began leaking. He pushed harder and when his corona popped inside me, he stopped.
In the distance, there was a sudden series of explosions - I thought it was happening in my head, but it wasn't.
Fireworks! People were shooting off firecrackers at the end of the block.
It was midnight!
Mike held still. "Happy New Year."
Then Mike's phone rang.
He answered it and stroked his shaft, his glans still firmly planted inside me.
"It's Dad, he says happy New Year!"
Shit! They started talking about all the parties and food and the weather.
"Let me talk to him." I grabbed the phone.
"Dad, I'm going to ask your son to marry me tonight, and I hope you'll be supportive and - well, I love you, too.
"If he says he'll marry me, you'll be the best father-in-law in the world."
Mike had tears in his eyes and grabbed the phone back. "Dad, I gotta negotiate this - "
There was a brief conversation.
"Yeah he told you first! I gotta go Dad. Yeah. Yeah. Okay."
Mike pulled his limp penis out and lay beside me.
"Marry you?" He said. "You want to marry me?"
I reached under my pillow and found the envelope with rings. "Don't know if it would fit you, but I took a guess."
"No, this can't be happening." Mike cuddled against me, kissing my neck.
I didn't know what to do - he was still crying as his limp penis fell into my cleft.
"Have I done something wrong?" I stroked his hair. "Sweet lover, talk to me."
He got up and picked up his jacket and fumbled around in the pockets for a while, came back to bed and held his closed fist above my chest. I opened my hand for whatever he had inside.
Two rings fell into my hand, simple gold bands. Looked a lot like the rings I'd bought. I laughed out loud.
"Call Dad back." I told him.
I told Mike's dad what happened and surprisingly he asked us over for breakfast and a night by the fireplace.
We dressed again and left. Bliss interruptus.
Mike told me to stop for fresh fruit and pastries and soon it was hot chocolate and a celebration.
That night the three of us slept in front of the fire on the big couches, cozy and feeling like a family. All of us in our underwear under thick blankets, three men, snoring and sounding like chain saws.
Before we left the next morning, I called my parents and got a lukewarm response from my dad, but Mom was excited about a wedding.
I kissed his dad's cheek when we left - no, we hadn't picked a day yet, but that his back yard was under consideration for the nups.
I winked at Mike - he was still tearfully smiling.
With the major announcements out of the way, and obvious agreement on our commitment to each other, I felt newer and stronger. This felt solid - secure and strong.
On the way home, he asked me if he could give me some celebratory sex, chuckling all the while.
"Damn well better." I said.
I stood at the side of the bed when he undressed, and grabbed his phone and took it to the kitchen, wrapping it in a towel and stuffing it in a cabinet to make sure there were no disruptions.
Back in bed, Mike held me and kissed me, telling he loved me again and again - such tender caresses, and gentle touches.
"Sorry about Dad - but he's been my closest friend - all my life."
"I know, I love him too. Now would you just fuck me?"
Mike was chuckling, and turned me over on my stomach, "Get up on your knees - it's easier like that."
Oh, yeah! My body jerked and convulsed as he rimmed me, I clearly remember trembling when he stroked my balls and erection. I was on the edge feeling him hum as he licked and sucked.
With plenty of lube, he used his thumbs, opening me - readying me.
"Are you tired? I didn't get much sleep last night..."
"Sweetheart, do you remember when I bought that bulb syringe and cooked dinner for your dad?"
"I've wanted you inside me since then. You know I'm not as patient as you are so, please - Get To It! Now!"
"What an eager half-virgin!" He was chuckling and I felt his glans on my anus and a hot slap on my butt.
I pushed, like he'd done - needing him to fill me.
When he was planted inside me, I pushed back and forced the rest of his rigid pole as deeply as I could, groaning with the closeness. My heart beat wildly, my breaths were jagged. I tried closing my eyes so I could focus on this incredibly erotic invasion by the man I loved.
Finally, I felt his full length pressing everything away from his cock and the sensation of a slight displacement of everything inside my torso happened - it took my breath away. I may have fallen in love with him all over again when he started rocking in and out, in and out... So slowly - was he teasing me?
Almost in a whisper, "I'm gonna cum..." Then, he started pounding into me, rapid-fire pistoning.
I lifted my rear, wanting more shifting my weight slightly. I wanted everything he could give me, and more.
I vaguely recall moaning loudly, not with pain, but with the intimacy of the moment - nothing like this had ever touched me so deeply. That shift, though brought his rod directly to my prostate. That's when I may have screamed, and I was out of control with his frenetic jabs pushing me toward an unbelievable climax.
Then, I could feel his semen spurting inside me, hot and making me slippery and full. I tightened my hole around him, hoping he'd never leave.
Leaning over, he stroked my back until his penis slipped out, and I turned over to find a slippery mess underneath me and had to chuckle.
But the feeling of emptiness surprised me, "Does it always feel like that? I miss you being inside me - it's like you belong there now."
"Chamorro heartbreak juice." He said. "Something special in our sperm that makes our lovers keep coming back for more." He grinned.
That didn't sound quite right, but I let it slide and told him I loved him and we fell asleep to wake again in the afternoon - needing more of that heartbreak juice.
Fin.