A Year in The Life
The Pack Part 3
By Bix Meister
This is a story featuring gay men, and gay sex, intended for Adults, not Minors. It is fiction, and as such is not based on any actual people or events. It is a fantasy intended purely as a catalyst for pleasure. No attempts have been made to portray safe sex, but the author encourages you to practice it.
If this is your first trip to my series, I suggest you start at the beginning, Snowplow. You will get to know the characters more.
If you enjoy it, consider donating to Nifty. If you have suggestions or feedback, contact me at bixmeister57@gmail.com
Special note: This chapter marks the one-year anniversary of the introduction of my story with Snowplow. I want to thank all of my readers for their feedback and support. My characters have become a very real part of my life. Because of this I will try to make them worthy of your time. I still plan to continue this story through one year in their lives, and I hope you will join me for that ride.
Again, I can't stress enough that feedback is appreciated, and so is patience. I have jumped through some hoops in my personal life recently, so the chapters aren't coming as quick as in the past. I hope you enjoy the upcoming chapters as they arrive.
The Pack Part 3
Jason was dripping with sweat as he left Wheeler Field. If his garage was his sanctuary, Wheeler Field was his cathedral. He'd struggle through the winter months just knowing that spring was around the corner, and so was softball. The West Duluth Hills that were the backdrop to Wheeler Field added an air of majesty to the ball fields. Unlike his mother-in-law, Jason wasn't a religious man. Softball was as close as he got to religion.
He was throwing his bat-bag into the back of his pickup when Mike drove up. The parking lot was nearly empty, but he parked right by Jason. "Giving up already? You should stay and see how real men practice."
As much as Jason secretly wanted to stay and watch the big man play, he didn't let on. "It would be too painful listening to your joints creak old man. Besides I have to get home and shower. Taking Ashley out on a date. She's having weird cravings lately so we're going to the Vietnamese place down in Canal Park."
"So has Ashley cut you off yet? Maybe you need some of this." Mike squeezed the mound in his pants.
"Ha! That little thing?" Jason's voice got quieter, not wanting to signal his true desire. "Great jersey by the way. Too bad the team won't match it."
"We're playing next week, we'll see about that."
Pete and I parked just as Jason left. Mike was still riled. "That little pip squeak sure likes to talk trash. I'm glad we'll set the record straight next week."
"You're getting ahead of yourself. We haven't even had our first full practice or game, but you have us winning next week's game already?" Pete was right to be cautious. We were simply a bunch of guys in matching jerseys. Spiffy looking jerseys if I had to admit it, but that wasn't enough. Mario, our ace in the hole, wouldn't be joining us until May.
"I've just got a feeling about these guys. They have the heart needed to overcome their deficiencies on the field. And to be honest with these men I wouldn't care if I lose" Mike said. "Wait, did I just say I wouldn't care if we lost? You know I would care, but being with them makes up for it."
I got where he was going, especially when the rest of "The Pack" arrived. The jerseys did make them appear to be more like a team. I was glad I brought along my digital camera. We set up a group pic with the hills in the background then started practice.
Gino started by hitting some balls for infield practice. Rolf was an unlikely third baseman, but he commanded his position with an agility I would not expect from someone his size. Much as I predicted, Jeff and Fred communicated well between shortstop and first. Justin was all over the place at second, using his speed to cover almost too much ground.
The fielders were all large men, built more like football linemen, not baseball players. As promised Micah did look in his element in right centerfield. Mike prowled left center, ready to help out Micah or Rodney when needed. Derek had right field nailed tightly.
I was frankly seeing more promise than I expected. These were softball players, not "Spikes." "Spikes" was the name my older brother John gave to his Little League players who proved unruly. He could tell every year when a new kid showed up with sparkling new "Spikes" that he or his parents would be a problem. Every "Spike" was a problem and my brother would have to help rub the sparkle off that "Spike" or his parent, before he could be a true member of the team.
The only team member who even had a hint of "Spike" mentality was Justin. He was running too much for pop ups that others could catch and it was on the verge of being intrusive. Then Gino hit a hard pop-up out to right. It was perfect for Derek to catch, but Justin made a valiant effort. He was running back to the pop-up when he unexpectedly tripped on something.
Derek of course caught it, then laughed at his red headed lover. "Didn't you hear me call for it? Save some of that energy for later."
Justin got up, he started walking back to his position, when he kicked the imaginary object that tripped him. "What the FUCK" he yelled out. "How'd this get here?" Justin held up a seven inch dildo.
"Hey Kyle, that looks like you" Fred yelled.
Our team suddenly had two mascots, Putski and a dildo. And in one less-than-graceful move, the shine was off Justin's spikes. He was a team member.
The next night was our first game. We played the game we needed to play, against the team we needed to play. If anything they were less ready than we were. The "W" in our column was barely earned, but it gave us he kick in the pants we needed to improve before the next week's game against the police team Jason played on.
As we left Wheeler, Pete made everyone an offer. "Join me tomorrow at 6 for a workout. We gotta step up our game if we are going to beat the cops.
Justin was at our door at 5:55, Derek and Putski in tow. They were joined quickly by Micah, Mike and Rodney. We started our jog down to the farmhouse where we collected Fred, Charlie and Angelo. Justin insisted that Fred should set a pace comfortable for him. The Pack was becoming a team.
Over the next week it seemed that everyone's focus was on the upcoming game. Progress at the house was shadowed by talk about Jason's team. Spare moments were spent working out, or throwing the ball. Talk at the bar during Happy Hour was about the game.
"The Game" had almost reached mythical proportions in West Duluth. It was one of three topics that rivaled "The Weather" as conversation starters. "The Game" joined "Didja hear that Ivan's marrying a man?" and "Hey, they found a dildo over by the Denfeld Field" as surefire topics at the local diner.
I heard all of them one morning at McDonald's while eating my breakfast burrito. I sat there; nondescript in my plaid shirt and khakis. After living here three years, I was still not part of the community; I was anonymous. That became painfully obvious when I heard the conversation at the next table.
"Who do you think is gonna win the softball game?"
"Dunno. A bunch of fruits or cops, I guess I'll stick with the cops."
"What makes you think they're queers?"
"Pete is playing for them. Didja hear he is marrying a man? Gus was at the bar the other night when he told everyone. Gus said it was like he was in a fairy bar for Christ sakes."
"But why is Mike playing on that team? He's married dontcha know? I figure a guy could..."
I tuned them out at that point. "A guy could..." was Minnesota speak. "A guy could..." meant that a specific man could do something. I could, you could or he could. These guys could open their minds to the changing world, but they preferred to see the world in stereotypes.
I heard loud laughter at the next table. "You're right, their uniforms are probably dresses. I figure Pete is the guy who lost that plastic pecker over by the school. Lucky the cops found it on the weekend, and not on a school day. Heard the cops have already found a dozen dildos. Pete must have no use for them now that he has the real deal."
I finished my breakfast burrito. I stood, towered over their table. "Gentlemen, I think you should meet the man that is marrying Pete." I offered my hand, no one shook it. I leaned in conspiratorially and whispered "You're right, he's got the real deal. But all of our dildos are present and accounted for. And just for the record, not everyone on our team is gay, just the good players."
The table I left that day was suitably quiet. A guy could focus on the homophobia still present, or move on with life. This guy chose the latter.
Of course I related the conversation to Pete. Even though I could tell that he wasn't sure I did the right thing, he laughed at my story. "So they've actually been finding dildos in the wild? I mean I know about the one at Wheeler Field, but Denfeld too?"
"Those are the only ones I know about, but the guys at the next table said there were dozens."
The Captain looked at the map on his wall. Each flesh colored push pin represented a dildo found in his West Duluth Precinct. The one they found near Denfeld made it the fourth one found in a little over two weeks. The Captain still was not sure what the crime was, but he was still pursuing it. He went online to check out how much the ones they had found went for. The latest was a $19.99 special, but the first one found on the Grand Avenue exit was a whopping $69.99. All told there was over $150 worth of sex toys found in the last few weeks.
He had looked into the possibility of a burglary in that sleazy downtown shop, but all of their toys were behind glass. This proprietor was helpful and sure that they had lost none of their inventory to theft. The Captain asked him if anyone had made a large purchase recently. The owner admitted that most of his sales had been as joke gifts for bridal showers. Most serious shoppers now bought their toys online.
It was close to the end of his shift. He would have enough time after work to shower at the precinct, make it home, and change into his softball uniform. He had taken precaution to warn Jason earlier to be on his best behavior. Somehow word had gotten out that the match would be between "The Fruits" and "The Cops." He didn't want it to blow up especially since Fred would be playing on the other team. The Captain had his informants, his confidants, but one had recently gone off the grid.
He went back to the adult toy website and perused the merchandise one more time. As a policeman he would need to be familiar with whatever toy was thrown his way so to speak. The Captain made a mental note of the "Flesh-like 8" special. He would have to wait `til he was home to order. If there was an investigation into his investigation, he could claim he was gaining evidence by looking. But buying from the office computer was another thing entirely.
I had never seen so many cars at Wheeler Field. It was early in the season and all of the ballfields were hosting games. The warmish spring night meant that many locals were out enjoying the weather. Weather like this would normally have been topic #1, but tonight it definitely dipped to #2 on the charts. I was late due to a meeting that ran on too long, so I parked far away.
"Kyle!" I heard a woman's voice so I turned. "It's me, Sarah, from the store, you know, Brent's friend." Sarah looked happy in her softball t-shirt. I saw the reason why moments later. A smiling bearded man wearing a matching t-shirt joined her carrying the bat-bag. "Kyle, meet Andy."
I could tell by their body language that Sarah and Andy were much more than co-ed softball teammates. "Nice to meet you Andy. What field are you on?"
"Unless I guess wrong we should be next to you. You're part of the Bear Pack that is playing the cops right?"
"I don't play. I'm just there for moral support."
"Well that'd make you an athletic supporter huh? Bet you like that."
The groan I emitted was audible.
"Too cheesy huh? Wait `til you get to know me, I'm not like this."
"He's even worse" Sarah assured me.
"Fair warning" Andy cautioned. "I know your Ump, he's a bit of a homophobe."
We started towards the field. Again I saw the body language. Andy was in love with Sarah it was evident. I forget if it was Pete or I who told her not to settle, that she was worth waiting for. Maybe Andy was that guy.
For all the cars in the parking lot, and all the talk, there weren't that many spectators at the field. Sure we had more than any of the other fields, but it was manageable. Brent was there ready to cheer for Sarah's team or ours. Mike's wife Angie was there with a few friends. Stan and Connie were there, they officially looked like an "item." Even one of the old guys from McDonald's showed up.
"Ready to play?" Gino questioned me. "Rolf can't make it `til later. We're switching Micah to third and you can play right center."
I was silent. If there was someone who represented "picked last" it was me. It didn't matter. Softball, baseball, and whiffle-ball: I was last. My brother was all-state. My dad was recruited by the Major's after WWII. Another brother John lived to coach. But me... dead last.
Derek looked at me. "I believe in you dad. You're not that kid anymore. If you need help, I got your back."
"Okay, I'll do it. Who's gonna keep score?"
"That'll be me" Pete said. "I score now, you score later" he winked.
The infield exited the diamond and joined us on the bench. Micah took off his hat, wiped his brow. Damn! He was freshly shaved with a new haircut. The beard and those angel wings at the nape of his neck were gone. The side was cut short and tight. But the mustache... The mustache that remained was a throwback. Part `70's porn star, part vintage baseball card.
I gulped when I saw him. "Down boy" Pete whispered to me. "I figure he's inspiration for five or six good fucks."
As always Pete knew me. There was something about the quiet CPA that did it to me. Even shaved, the angel wings on his neck hardwired my libido. I felt that familiar jolt from my brain to my groin. Both heads were thinking. One responded by filling out my shorts, the other reminded me that Micah was still an unknown, sexuality-wise. One head told the right hand to readjust the other head, and get on with the game.
Gino penciled me into the line-up card batting ninth, then headed to home-plate to meet the coach from the Cop's team. I remembered Jason had complained about the Captain, maybe this was him. After the meeting at the plate the cops took their places on the field. I can't say that I have a uniform fetish, but between knowing that most of these men were cops, and seeing them in their softball uniforms, I was quickly developing one.
Pete took his place on the bench with Putski and our newest mascot, the dildo we found the previous week. Brent had created a miniature uniform for the dildo that matched the one I had made for Putski. We joked that the dildo should be named Buttski. It would take an eagle eye to notice what was sitting on the bench, it was our private joke.
Jeff started us off. With a sharp smack he hit a liner between third and short and quickly had a single. I could be wrong, but I swear I noticed a nod of recognition between Jeff and the coach of the other team, as he stood there at first. Justin followed with a pop up to left that advanced Jeff. Mike was the next at bat, and started swinging for the fence. It was too early in the game for such grandstanding as the resultant strike out proved.
The entire inning Jason was talking trash from short. I expected this cockiness from my brief introduction at the bar, but he was going a bit overboard. That was most evident when Fred came to the plate. The worst was when he yelled out "Hey fatty, time you get off your knees and try a new work out."
Fred was resolute at the plate. He fouled off a few balls, waiting for the right one. When it came; Fred planted it over the fence. There was an air of satisfaction as Fred rounded the bases and followed his lover towards home. He held his head high as he trotted by Jason. Jason responded by glowering then looking down. The only cartoon-like cliché missing was a swift kick to the sand.
We ended our first at bat a few men later with two runs in our column. Angelo's expert pitching meant the cops had three up, three down quickly. Between innings the Cop's coach pulled Jason aside. With his back to us I could still feel the intensity of his words. Struggling, I finally heard a few. "Leave that shit off the field or I'm benching you."
It was a quieter Jason that ran out to the shortstop position. I think the Coach's words whipped them all into shape. Despite my first bona fide single in decades, we could not catch a rally in the second inning, and the cops responded with a solid run on their scorecard.
I was impressed and proud of my team. Micah proved to be a strong third baseman. He hit solidly, but it was on the field that he shone. The early-season infield grass was spotty, and the ground hard, but Micah fielded with precision. He robbed many a batter of sure fired hits with his glove and arm. He told me once that he would come alive on the field, he was proving it to us with every play. It would be hard for Rolf or Mario to steal this position from him.
Justin, Derek and Mike all did their best to cover my fielding inadequacies. It was almost comical how they sprinted to ensure that long balls to my position were covered. I could have spent the first part of the game on the bench for the use my glove got.
The game was neck and neck, almost dull until the sixth inning. Then Jason was at bat. He hit a hard two-hop grounder to Jeff at short. Jeff caught it as it caromed higher than expected, and easily threw to his lover Fred at first. Jason was out by a mile, but that did not stop him as he barreled into Fred. Though he was a large man, Jason flattened Fred with his power.
The resultant ruckus at first cleared the benches and the field. Jeff sprinted to be help his man up. Both of them faced off against the cop who muttered "Faggots" under his breath. Sarah and Andy's team, and their opponents even stopped play to watch the fight. It took Pete and the Captain to calm everyone down.
Out of all of it I noticed two things. One; the Captain took Jason to the bench. His stature far out powered the young man who cowered on the bench. From right center I heard a string of words from the Captain, with Jason's "But... but... but..." adding punctuation. Jason's butt left the bench as he skulked off finally.
The second thing I saw was the Ump warning Fred. The game had been fairly called to that point. Maybe the guy was homophobic after all. Pete urged restraint as the Ump warned Fred about his "outburst."
Fred shook his head. From the outfield I could see the confusion on Fred's face as he muttered "What did I do?"
"That'll be enough" the Ump said sternly. "Another word from you and you'll join your buddy off the field."
The tide had turned. Although our team played as a unit, we couldn't match the cops and their newest team mate: The Ump. We were ahead by one in the ninth when the cops had their final at bat. With one man out, and one on first, a high fly ball was heading straight to me. "I got it" I yelled as I waved the other guys off. My brothers and my dad were all within me as I kept my eye on the ball.
I remembered how often Pete reminded me "You're not that fifteen year old anymore" as it started to fall towards my glove.
I heard my dad say "You've got it Duke."
I channeled my younger brother's fielding prowess as I gloved the ball. One out! Caused by me! I saw the runner tag up, then head towards second. I could tell he was going for third. Although it was Gino saying it, I heard my older brother John yell "Throw it to third, throw it to third." With the precision and power of my dad, I threw it to third. He was OUT.
"SAFE!" yelled the Ump.
"What the FUCK?" yelled Fred.
"YEAH, WHAT THE FUCK?" it was Sarah's boyfriend Andy.
"That's it! You're out buddy. I warned ya" the Ump said as he ejected Fred from the field. "You too!" he motioned to Andy, who was on the other side of the fence.
Sarah and Andy were incredulous at the last development. "How can he kick you out of a game you're not even in?" she asked.
In all the excitement I barely noticed that Rolf had joined us. As Pete calmed down he sent Rolf to first. The game should have been over. Instead we found ourselves up by a run, with a runner on third and two outs. Angelo had the last batter on the verge of striking him out with two pitches he shouldn't have even swung at. Angelo went to the well once too often and the batter sent it over the fence. A game we should have won, was in the loss column.
Even in defeat we were gentlemen. We formed a line and shook hands at home plate. Again I noticed a nod between Jeff and the Captain. When it came time for Pete and me to shake the Captain's hand, he pulled us aside.
"Sorry guys, I'd rather win it honestly" he said. "In fact I'm not sure why I didn't protest too. Maybe we can petition the league."
"It's a long season Coach, we'll get another chance at ya" Pete pointed out.
"Hopefully we'll get an honest ump next time. Look, even Andy pointed out how bad that call was. I've known Andy for years. He umps and is a much better ump than that idiot we had tonight." He got quiet. "Guys, I'm speaking off the record right now. I don't know if you've heard or not, but we have had some... ummm... dildos show up all over town recently. Do you think it's a good idea to use one as a mascot?"
Pete and I laughed. "Oh that? We found it accidentally last week on this very field. One of our team mates tripped over it out in the outfield. We hadn't heard it was part of some crime spree, we just thought it was a practical joke. Do you want us to turn it in as evidence?" Pete added.
The Captain mulled it over for a minute. "I'm still not sure if there is any crime being committed. So... out in right field huh? Guys for now I don't see any need to turn it over to me. Just be a bit more discreet with your... uh mascot... okay?"
"Just how many have you found?" I asked.
"I can't share that with you, how do I know you aren't the Mad Dildoer?" The Captain laughed at his own joke. "I still have not figured out a tagline for the character who would throw out hundreds of dollars of fake penises throughout West Duluth.
Based on my own purchases I did the math in my head. "That many huh?" I said. The Captain laughed realizing he gave me a clue.
Pete and I packed up our bags then headed off the field. The crowd attracted by the showdown between the cops and the fruits had dispersed for the most part, leaving only the older guy I remembered from McDonald's.
"Gentlemen" he said. "Got a few minutes? Can I buy you a cup of coffee?"
"Gentlemen? You must have us confused with someone else" Pete said.
"I saw how you acted out on the field tonight. Softball should be a gentleman's sport. Even in losing, you proved to be worthy of it." He looked at me. "Plus young man, I owe you a bit of an apology. I figure a cup of coffee is a good place to start. I'll meet you at the Diner over by the freeway? I've seen you over there before." He had noticed us before, maybe I wasn't as anonymous as I thought.
At the diner we grabbed our usual booth. Pete and I sat across from the man who came to know as Martin. He fidgeted with the menu, then looked up. The man who looked weak and judgmental earlier that day at McDonald's was suddenly strong, but wordless. Finally he said it. "In my sixty-nine years I never realized I would meet someone like me. Someone strong, athletic, and... uh gay." He looked around to see if anyone heard him. "Damn, I guess I said it, I'm gay."
"I've seen you guys before here. I figured you were relatives of some sort. Father and son, Uncle and nephew, you know." He looked at Pete. "I used to be a big fan. Watched you all of the time on TV. Went to some of your matches up in Hibbing. I used to coach wrestling on the Range." He leaned in closed, conspiratorially. "Hell, I even jerked off once while watching you wrestle on TV. The wife and kids were out shopping. Damn I coated that TV good, but by the time the wife got back it was squeaky clean."
Pete and I laughed, remembering my story about my similar cum baptism. I wondered for a second if we both spooged watching the same match. He looked at us quizzically. "Sorry buddy, long story, go on" I said.
Our coffees arrived giving him time to collect his thoughts. "I had a lover once, during the Korean War. I wasn't expecting it to happen. Real men weren't gay, soldiers weren't gay. Wrestlers and baseball players weren't gay. I don't even think we called them gay back then. They were queers or Nancy boys. Walt wasn't a Nancy Boy. Walt was a MAN."
"He played baseball, I wrestled. We were out on bivouac once when we both discovered we did more than that. He was a star pitcher but he caught me, if you catch my drift. We were madly in love when we could be, but rode the straight and narrow the rest of the time."
I could see his eyes getting misty reminiscing about Walt. "We dreamed about coming home. We could use the G.I Bill and buy ourselves a small farm. We'd be gentlemen farmers that was the plan." He closed his eyes, I think I realized what was coming.
"It was a dark night when I lost him to a landmine. I pulled him aside, then laid by him as he took his last breath. I had promised him months ago never to leave him. I made good on that promise. I huddled with his body through the black of that night, not able to move. When I woke the next day I realized we were on the edge of a cliff. If I had moved him even a few steps more, we'd have both been goners."
Pete put his hand across the table, Martin grabbed it. "I did what I thought was the right thing when I got home. I finished college, found a girl, married her, and had a family. I never cheated on her. I worked closely with strapping young men, I never took advantage of them. I was the first one to make fun of queers when I saw them, but secretly the first one to envy them. When the sexual revolution and free love happened, my crew cut got even more severe."
"My wife died a dozen years back, and even though I never loved her like I loved Walt, I miss her. My kids come to visit a few times a month, but I know now they have never met the real me. And now I am sitting across the table from two guys who are living the life that Walt and I could have had. Now it's too late."
"It's never too late Martin" Pete said as he felt Martin grasp his hand ever tighter. "I never considered myself gay until I met the guy sitting beside me, so you have the upper hand. You're still a handsome athletic guy who looks years younger..."
Martin cut him off. "Enough of this B.S. I'm not only over the hill, I'm coasting down it recklessly on roller skates. My body is falling apart. Look at me, one cup of coffee and I have to piss like a racehorse. Luckily I remember where the john is."
Pete looked at me as Martin made his way towards the restroom. "That's me in ten years Kyle. Still want to marry me?"
"Even if you look half that good in ten years I'll love you." I said and meant every word. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" I asked.
"Remember, he said he was a pitcher, is he worthy of a hall pass?"
"Pete we have a chance to share our love with someone, remind him of how it was, and how it still could be. I'd say it's a worthy cause."
"What's a worthy cause?" Martin surprised us.
"Oh we were talking about Civil Unions. You know they're legal now in Vermont. Not that we live there." Pete's ad-lib worked for the moment, then he got quiet. "Martin. Kyle and I have a sauna back at our place. It's good for getting naked and tending to aching muscles. It even works for muscles that aren't aching, merely throbbing. Wanna join us?"
"I don't know, I don't want to be a charity case and on the other hand I don't want to be mentioned in the divorce papers. You two are getting married fer Christ sakes. A guy could get in trouble for that."
"A guy could also realize that at sixty-nine he is still vital and sexy."
"But a guy could also be a limp dishrag if you get my drift. I'm not the guy I used to be."
Pete put a stop to the "Guy could" talk. "Martin, even if you don't get hard, there will be enough to play with between the three of us. Maybe we'll give you something you haven't had in years, intimacy and love."
Martin thought about it for a minute, stirring his coffee while he did so. He looked up to my eyes, and then Pete's. "Promise me two things guys. One, you won't try to lose me on the way out to your place. And two, you'll hold me like I wish Walt could, one more time."
"Deal! I'll get the tab." Even though Martin protested, Pete laid ten dollars on the table. "Follow my truck, Kyle will make sure you get there by following you."
Martin joined us out to the parking lot. We showed him Pete's truck and my car and gave him the general directions. "I remember when a stiff breeze could give me a hard-on" Martin said. "It's been a while, but just the thought of you two in a sauna is getting my blood flowing."
I wasn't sure if we were being foolish inviting this man to our house. I got into my car and followed his towards the freeway. I paid close attention to the tail lights of both vehicles as we made the Grand Avenue exit. Every mile that brought us closer to the chalet made me think of the two men I was about to share the sauna with.
Twenty-five years separated Martin and me, and yet we both shared a similar experience in front of a 70's TV screen. I was fifteen, he was forty, but we both busted our nut years ago thinking about the man we were about to share. I knew how Martin wanted the night to end, but I suddenly realized where it needed to start; The Wall of Shame.
Pete opened the door for Martin, I followed them in. "Make Martin comfortable" Pete said. "I'll get the sauna started.
I gave him the quick tour of our house. He craved closeness, so I gave it to him. I directed him by his still muscular biceps as I showed him the master bedroom. I guided him down the stairway to the basement with my hand on the small of his back. I grasped his hip to pull him close to me while I showed him the "Wall of Shame."
"Martin, a little over seven months ago I stood right here and realized that the guy who pulled me in from a blizzard was Ivan The Mad Russian. I remembered how years earlier I had jerked off watching Ivan wrestle. I found out tonight, I wasn't the only one." I turned Martin to look at him. "Martin, did Walt like to kiss?"
"That's what I miss most."
I closed the distance between our years as I pulled Martin towards me. We kissed. I felt strong hands pull me tighter. He came up for air. "You sure know how to make an old man feel good."
"What old man?" I said reaching down to feel his hard-on.
"Well I'll be damned" he said "I hope it doesn't go to waste" He held my ass closer, ground his crotch into mine. I got the hint, he was still a pitcher.
I broke free, grabbed two towels. "The sauna should be ready by now, Pete's probably in there waiting. Let's get naked and join him. I helped Martin get undressed. Every layer removed exposed a man who looked much younger than his years. His muscle tone was amazing. He didn't have a six pack, but his belly was tight. The abundant white hair that covered his chest and gut was a magnet for my tongue.
Then he shucked his boxers. There wasn't a rigid slap of a twenty year old when his hard-on was uncovered. However what I was introduced to that night was a classic beauty with a string of pre-cum already falling. I looked at his dick, then his eyes. They smiled.
"I guess I still got it. Hope you still want it."
I got on my knees and held the warmth of his dick. I looked at it, holding it, appraising it, feeling it. I then looked in his eyes, again he smiled as I sucked it in. I let my tongue savor his sap. I finally pulled off him and stood. "I can't wait to share you with Pete" I said as I put my arm over his shoulder, and marched him into the sauna.
If it just would have been the two of us in the sauna, Pete would be over in the corner waiting for me. But since we were entertaining a friend, he was sitting dead center on the top tier.
"HOLY SHIT, look at that pecker, it's almost as big as Walt's was."
Pete laughed. "Is that why you were the top? Was he too big to take?"
"Oh I'd do everything I could with it, jerk it, suck it and even just hold it. I just never could take it up the ass. I was hoping to surprise him one time on leave, but I never got the chance."
"Well it looks like you have a dick that could keep him happy and well lubed" Pete said. "Look at all that pre-cum buddy."
"Oh that used to get me into trouble. I told ya I never cheated on my wife or played with a student, but one of my guys, a furry little fucker, had a dick that rivaled Walt's. He could barely keep it contained in his singlet and just watching him wrestle caused me to leak. My boxers always had incriminating pecker tracks. I had to convince the wife that some woman, often her, had caused them. I used to tell her "I always bring it home to you honey." Then I would have to perform to prove it."
Pete pulled Martin closer. "You got nothing to prove to us tonight buddy. We're just gonna have fun." Pete's thick fingers started to stroke through Martin's chest hair. Martin reached down and held the dick that was "Almost as big as Walt's was." They started kissing as their bodies got close together.
I saw the short hairs on the back of Martin's head. His regulation crew cut drew me in. Maybe he too had a hot spot back there. My tongue was dying to find out. I flicked it over the shortest hairs at the nape of his neck. He shivered as Pete and he kissed. Bingo.
Martin came up for air. "God it's been almost forty-five years since I've done this. I gotta taste that." Martin got one tier lower, and then took Pete's dick into his mouth. Pete rolled his head back as our new friend started blowing him. Martin looked Pete's age as he sucked Pete. Pete rubbed one hand through Martin's crew cut while the other grasped his shoulder. The connection they were making was strong, sexy. I needed to join them. I saw a butt that still was taut. I needed to taste it.
Martin started whimpering as I licked his crack. I wondered how he would have responded to my rimming if his mouth wasn't full of Pete's tasty dick.
I found out soon as he took his mouth off my man's cock. "Oh that feels good. Better than I even imagined."
He swooped down on Pete, took him in completely. Pete bucked his butt off the bench, driving even more of his prick into Martin's waiting mouth. I was tempted to stand and swab my dick over his hole, maybe push it in a little, give him something his lover couldn't almost fifty years before. However I knew he needed to feel in charge. I felt I had primed his hole enough with my tongue so I joined Pete on the top bench.
He started fingering Pete's butt as he blew him. Pete scooched closer to the edge of the tier. Martin came off my lover's cock and held it there, admiring it. "So beautiful, so tasty. Damn, look at it. Do you fuck Kyle with this?"
Pete nodded to the man looking up at him. "We have a pact. I'm the only one that can fuck him, and vice versa." Martin looked dejected. "However we bend that rule if we both agree. Why don't we shower and then head upstairs?"
Martin stood. The man standing before me was an athlete, wrestler, coach and soldier. He looked in my eyes. His desire mirrored mine. "You'd really break your pact for me?"
"In a heartbeat." He bent to kiss me. I felt the passion he had been hiding for years.
The connection wasn't lost on Pete. "You're a lucky man Martin. You've got Kyle wound up tight. His ass is gonna drive you crazy."
Martin broke the kiss. "I think it's time for a shower boys. It'll be fun to take one finally where I don't have to worry about popping a boner. I used to have to wait `til after the team showered." I smiled thinking about a man near seventy who finally was able to be what he wanted to be. He yanked me off the bench. "C'mon, shower time buddy. Gotta scrub down the two of you."
Pete held the door for us as we exited the sauna. He stayed behind to shut it down, while we went to the shower. I got two adjacent shower heads going and Martin joined me under one. He tenderly started to soap me. One muscular hand sudsed my chest, the other tugged my dick. Kisses punctuated the action. I realized this is what he missed the most about Walt. I hugged him close as we kissed. I wanted to make up for almost fifty years of lost kisses.
Pete entered the shower. "Damn that's beautiful. See, that's why I share him Martin, he's got so much love to give." Pete said that as much for my benefit as Martin's. I loved him for that.
Martin stood back for a second. "Thanks for sharing him Pete. He makes me feel like a youngster again." He motioned towards my man. "Wanna?" he said. He waved Pete towards us, Pete joined our embrace.
We became a tangle of tongue, fur and muscle as we scrubbed each other down under the warm spray of the shower. Martin paid special attention to my ass. Two wet thick fingers slipped in as he kissed me. Pete growled "Yeah, you're gonna like that" when he saw what Martin was doing.
Martin broke the kiss. "You're ready aren't ya buddy? Let's get to it." He took charge and turned off the showers. Martin grabbed the towels from the hooks and started to dry the two of us. "You know, I saw the sling. That looks like it could be fun. But I'm old fashioned. Do you mind if I share that big king bed up in your master?"
"Lead the way" Pete said.
Martin looked confident, sexy as he walked bare-assed upstairs. If this is what was waiting for me in ten years with Pete, I looked forward to it. When he got to our room, he turned on the lights. I knew what was on his mind. If he had waited this long to finally make love to a man once again, he was going to take in every detail.
"On the bed Kyle, lay on your back. Yeah that's it. That's the guy I'm about to fuck." He stood looking at me, stroking his still hard dick. "Pull those legs back. Show me that butthole." He shook his head in appreciation. "Damn, that's a man, that's what I've been missing." Pete stood beside him, slowly tugging at his own cock. Martin put an arm over Pete's muscular shoulder. "You are one lucky man, thanks for sharing this love."
It's hard to explain what I heard next. Pete shivered at Martin's touch. The shiver became almost a purr, then a growl. The newfound confidence in this sixty-nine year old man had turned us both into sexual beings. We were there for only one thing, to please Martin.
I think he realized his power. He leaned into Pete, whispered in his ear, but I still heard every word. "Feed him your dick buddy. You take care of that end, I'll take care of this."
I laid there, pulled my legs back more and waited for Martin to enter me. Pete knelt on the bed and did as he was told. He lovingly fed me the head of his dick. He would skin it back, letting me lick the knob, then push the skin forward. I sucked in every inch of that extra skin as he fed me. Martin admired my handiwork. "Oh yeah, Walt was uncut too. I loved doing that, but I've never tried this."
With that Martin joined us on the bed, his tongue at my ass. So this is why he spent all that time cleaning my hole? Pete watched from his vantage point. "Tastes good doesn't it buddy? First time?"
Martin nodded, muttered "Uh huh" in between licks.
"He was my first too. Got me hooked." Pete got up from his spot and joined Martin at the foot of the bed. "Use those fingers, spread that hole. Yeah, like that, he loves that." I groaned. "See, you got him bad, he'll be ready for that dick." Martin looked over at Pete, his face inches away, they kissed. "I told you he tastes great. Swab some of that dick sap on his crack, it'll taste even better."
Martin got up and started to drag his dick up and down my crack. He let it rest at my hole for a few seconds, then would swab the crack again. After about a minute of this dick teasing, his tongue went back to my hole. "Damn you're right Pete. That is how a man should taste. I can't hold off any longer."
He sat back on his haunches, held my legs higher, and line up his dick with my rosebud. I pushed out, inviting him in. He took my invitation and soon six inches of experienced dick was in my ass. Everything stopped for a minute as he inhaled. His head rolled back, his eyes went to the ceiling. He finally sighed "Been much too long. I need this" and then he started to fuck me.
He was in command again. "C'mon Pete, feed him your dick. Kyle's a special guy, needs to be fed at both ends." Pete did as he was told and leaned over me to feed me all nine inches of his dick. "I often wondered what it would be like to share Walt with another man. Now I see. Damn this is hot." Martin shook his head as he continued to fuck me.
I was so overcome with the sensations I was feeling. Two strong men were sharing me. I had to be their equal. I started to massage Martin's cock with my sphincter. My inner ass muscles rolled over his dick. "Oh Yeah! Just like Walt used to do."
"I bet Walt would have liked this blow job too Martin. I wish he was here sharing Kyle with us."
"He is buddy, He is" Martin patted his chest right at his heart as he kept grinding away.
Pete pulled his dick out of my mouth. His voice was low. "You know what Kyle likes, he likes men who look him in the eye as they seed him. He likes to taste their kisses while he is being filled. Do that for me Martin. Fill my man."
The last sentence was almost a whisper. I think we all felt the need. Martin leaned forward, I raised up. Again a kiss erased years as his eyes smiled and then closed. I felt the warmth spread in my ass as we continued to kiss. Pete saw the intimate moment. His cum coated us as we were intertwined. Pete joined us on the bed as we uncoupled. Reluctantly I let Martin's cock fall from my ass. The embrace the two men gave me made up for the loss.
We were equals in the kissing and groping as we all came down from our fuck-high. Martin looked at the two of us. "Thank you Kyle. Thank you Pete." He then looked at his chest, his heart. He thumped it. "Thank you Walt."
"Well we made good on one promise tonight Martin" Pete said. "I hope we can make good on the other by having your share our bed tonight."
"Call me Marty. It was Walt's pet name for me. I never liked for anyone else to call me that, but it just seems right now, doesn't it?"
"Marty it is. The bathroom is that way. I'm sure we have an extra toothbrush and there is a shower in there. Breakfast is early and the workout is even earlier."
"I do have to piss again. Whenever I start feeling young, that's the one thing that reminds me of my age. Damned bladder."
Marty got up and went into the bathroom. I looked at Pete. "You know the guys will be here tomorrow promptly at 6 for a workout. How are we going to explain Marty?"
"He just is an early riser and joined us before they did."
Marty exited the master bath as we headed in. Pete and I crossed streams. He looked over at me and smiled. I gave him a questioning look so he explained. "You have the ability to make old men feel young. You did it to me, you're doing it to Marty."
"I guess it's just a gift" I chuckled.
We returned to the bedroom. Marty was laid out in the middle of the bed. He opened his arms, Pete fell into them. I got behind and completed the hug sandwich.
"Thanks guys, this isn't how I thought my day would end, but it's exactly what I needed."
Pete turned around and kissed Marty as we continued our embrace. Six strong arms made good on our earlier promise.
I was rhythmically holding Marty as we relaxed. My dick filled with blood as it rested against his crack.
I figured a guy could let it rest there, or a guy could give him a taste of what he had been missing from Walt all those years.
This guy decided on the latter. "This is for Walt" I said as I slipped in. The contented "Mmmmm hmmmm" was all the thanks I needed.