The following fictional story deals with sex among males. If you are offended by such material, are too young, or reside in a location where it is not allowed, please depart. Though not observed in this story, care enough about yourself and humankind to practice safe sex.
The author retains all rights. EvanBradley33@Yahoo.com
Chapter 10 Endless Circle Hal and Drew
Drew was sitting with his hip snug up against Hal's in the bleachers as they watched another Renegades game. Drew was enjoying their bodies' touching, especially since Drew knew Hal wanted it as much as he. Other than workouts at Murphy's Gym, Renegade games were becoming the favorite common social event for the crew. However, on this Friday night members of the crew had scattered every direction. Ted Kortas and Levi Miller had a Kortas family cookout to attend. Max Weingert and Kenji Hamada were meeting some friends of Max's for a barbecue. Hal hadn't been able to connect with Rich Adams. Bobby and Angie Cooper had been luxuriating in their duplex a couple of weeks, so they had taken a rain check on the ball game, explaining that they were eager for a quiet evening at home. Tonio's mother had delivered an ultimatum: he WAS attending a family dinner since his only brother and his family were visiting from Los Angeles, and the huge family would be there. If he missed the family dinner, he would be banished from the Ortiz tribe. Jamal Washington had a party to attend.
Hal had insisted on coming by to pick Drew up. The touching had started as soon as Drew slid into the cab of Hal's truck. He pulled Drew over into a hot kiss. Then they kissed each other about the head and neck. 'Wow! Is this going to be a hot evening,' Drew thought. Hal was a little disturbed that an image of Brett Carter floated into his mental field at the height of the kiss he gave to Drew, but he dismissed it as a momentary aberration. They'd had a quick meal at a cafeteria in order to make the game on time.
The evening weather was mild. The two beers that Hal and Drew had imbibed aided them in mellowing out in each other's company, maybe anticipating the lovemaking that always followed the game. The Renegades-Sharks match was proving to be close. The local sports pages had generated a lot of interest in it because a young player had been sent down from one of the two parent teams to the Renegades to work his way through a slump. He'd relocated two weeks ago, but this was the first home game where fans would see him up close.
All of a sudden a Renegades player pounded the ball over the backfield fence, bringing the crowd to its feet. Both Drew and Hal stood, watching the player run the bases. His line of movement as he rounded second base and headed toward third pulled Hal's and Drew's eyes down several rows and over to their left, where they both spotted Rich Adams close to the field, hopping up and down and waving his arms in glee. Rich's excitement over the homerun was way more than they had ever seen him demonstrate at any other Renegades game. As Hal and Drew studied the player jogging to third base, he looked right up at Rich and tipped his fingers to the bill of his cap in a salute, accented with a big smile.
Drew glanced up at Hal, watching his face freeze into a mask devoid of expression. He just kept staring at Rich and then at the new player. Rich was still standing, clapping and hopping about, when most people began to sit again, but Hal was also standing, watching the new player cross home plate and walk to the dugout, noting that he looked back at Rich and shot him a killer smile. Finally, Drew reached up and tugged on the back pocket of Hal's tight jeans. Hal suddenly looked around, realized that he was still standing and sat down. He didn't say a word through the rest of that inning and into the next. Drew looked up the name of the player in the program - Wes Stanfield, the new team member the sports columnists had been heralding. As Hal continued to zone out, Drew began to worry. Hal clearly wasn't caught up in the game, for when another Renegade hit a homer and everyone stood and clapped, Hal remained sitting, staring off into space.
"Is everything okay?" Drew had whispered, placing his hand on Hal's left thigh and squeezing. He received no response as Hal continued to stare at the field. Drew was afraid of pushing matters, so he remained quiet through the rest of the game, giving Hal his space. He couldn't escape the feeling that he and Hal had been forced out of some kind of track - maybe derailed.
When the game was over and fans arose to leave the stadium, Hal seemed to regain consciousness, aware that he'd shut Drew out. He apologized for allowing his mind to drift away from the game, asking if he could treat Drew to a beer to make up for it. Lovemaking was their preferred activity after a game. Drew was a little surprised, assuring Hal that he had nothing for which he needed to pay penance. "Please?" Hal iterated. Drew would rather have had the treat in his bedroom, but he knew Hal was having some kind of difficulty, so he agreed. The next thing Drew knew, the pickup was pulling into a parking space at Jack's Sports Bar & Grill. 'Jack's is a watering hole we usually hit before a game, not after,' Drew thought.
Hal led them to an out-of- the-way booth in a corner near the front entrance, ordering his usual brew. Drew decided that since Hal was occupying some other astral plane, he'd have a glass of red wine. Hal, along with the other members of the crew, used to razz him about ordering a gin and tonic in a micro-brewery or wine at Jack's, but Drew's feisty nature came to the fore, leading him to inform the assembled company that their approval of what he chose to drink was not required. If he needed anyone's approval he'd ask for it. In the absence of such a request, they should jam any reaction they felt the need to express, shooting them an insouciant look. The first time Drew responded in this way to Hal's teasing, Hal was sobered, but then Drew smiled and blew him a little kiss, making him laugh right out loud. On other occasions, he made it clear that their "herd instinct" wouldn't ever move him much unless he allowed it.
On one occasion, when his opinion was clearly at variance with their own and he was being dumped on about it, he was prompted to tell them in a sassy manner that he was his own man, and that that alone made him good company for any other "good" man. Only "little men" required that he agree with them on every issue. The crew began to look at Drew a little differently after that - he wasn't just Hal's tag-along who would put up with anything to insinuate himself into the group. And in deep discussions, they'd better watch their "toes" or Drew would be walking all over them - verbally, intellectually, and logically. At the same time, he was humorous, mischievous, playing practical jokes that always had a nice outcome. He even found some of the crew phoning him or sounding him out at Murphy's Gym about plans, problems or issues in their lives or relationships. He detected that the crew's turning to him had something to do with Hal's reporting to Max about Hal's sounding Drew out about the future of Winston Construction Company. Max must have then reported something to the others.
Since Hal liked Jack's Sports Bar & Grill, he was usually talkative when he was there, but not this night. Drew decided that companionable silence was what Hal wanted. Just as they were about to finish their drinks, in walked Rich Adams and Wes Stanfield. Several fans hopped up from their tables and went over to congratulate Wes, who stood with his arms folded across his chest and shot the breeze for a bit, giving his fans a million-dollar smile. 'He knows how to work a crowd,' Rich thought admiringly, beaming at Wes. Hal was looking at nothing else but those two. Drew realized that Hal's invitation to a beer had nothing to do with making up for his zoning out after he discovered that Rich had a boyfriend. The unexpected detour to Jack's after the ballgame allowed Hal to check out Rich's boyfriend. That realization alone left Drew feeling used, worried, and afraid. If Hal had wanted to come here to spy on Rich and Wes, why drag him along? . . . Cover! Of course. Hal couldn't allow it to appear that he was spying on Rich and his new love. Increasing Drew's worry was the realization that he was seeing powerful emotions on Hal's part that had never been directed at him. Drew decided he needed to study the new man in Rich's life, the man who had set Hal's and his world on tilt.
Wes Stanfield retained his frat-rat demeanor from his college days. Handsome, "Big Man on Campus" looks. He carried a full head of rich brown, slightly curly hair. His broad forehead sat above two widely spaced, blue eyes that didn't betray what inner activity was occurring. Slim, brown eyebrows accented those careful eyes. Drew wondered if that guardedness owed to Wes's personality, his competitive nature, or some other mysterious factor. Wes's nose complemented his square-jawed face, ending in a strong chin. His lips and mouth were scaled perfectly for his face. His fair cheeks revealed no whiskers. He had broad, developed shoulders and killer biceps. His legs were as developed as his arms. Standing perhaps 5' 11", he was favored with a bubble-butt, due probably to running so many bases, Drew decided. In short, Wes Stanfield was the prototypical, vanilla, All-American-Boy-Next-Door. He was perfect. Who could blame Rich for falling for this wet dream? Drew wished he knew what kind of dick those cargo shorts hid. 'You're such a slut,' he told himself. He had no doubt that Rich had already enjoyed that very discovery.
Drew's analytical mind found its way back to Hal, who was staring at Wes mostly, sometimes at Rich to check out his reaction to Wes or something he said. Drew, who had heard some of Hal's experiences with both Richie Collins and Rich Adams, flashed that something connecting with the first Richie was prompting Hal's unusual behavior this night. Suddenly, Hal arose and walked over to Wes's table, leaving Drew sitting alone without a word. Drew's mouth dropped open in surprise. Hal had never been anything less than considerate toward him. So walking away with no word as though he weren't even there - in the face of all his other odd behaviors that evening - left Drew more worried. It just wasn't anything the usually thoughtful Hal had ever done. Hal was in distress.
Upon arriving at Wes and Rich's table, Hal didn't acknowledge Rich at all. For Drew, it was as though he were watching a silent movie, for they were far enough away and the noise level in the bar was such that he would hear nothing of their exchange. Hal held out his hand to Wes, his lips moving, no doubt to congratulate him on his homerun, welcome him to the city, and all that. Rich was surprised to see Hal looming over them, blushing because he apparently realized that Hal had figured out the score about his relationship with Wes. Rich scanned the bar, looking for Drew, nodding his head in greeting without a smile when he located him. Drew returned his greeting with a faint smile and a nod of his head, which Rich read accurately, cleverly understanding the heavy import of the present circumstances for Drew. It was due to an almost intuitive line of communication that had arisen naturally among Rich, Angie, and Drew.
Rich slowly rose to offer his hand to Hal. Drew knew as he watched Rich's mouth moving that he was offering an explanation to Hal about how Wes and he knew each other. The explanation was growing lengthy. Wes was looking at Rich with his brow wrinkled, detecting that there was much more going on in the subtext of Rich's long commentary than appeared on the surface. Drew knew it was a dead giveaway: anytime a person says more than the situation warrants, something tense is occurring in the subtext of the exchange, or the speaker is trying to manipulate somebody. Picking up on that dynamic meant Wes was sharp. Drew guessed he had to be if he was a competitive, successful professional sports celebrity. Finally, Wes looked at Hal, really scoping him out. Even Hal seemed to notice Wes's pointed examination, for he nervously shifted his weight from one foot to another for a few seconds.
For the first time that evening, Hal realized that he was "over the edge" although he didn't understand how. He'd done something wrong, but he couldn't identify what it was. He also couldn't help it. Back in the bleachers, realizing that Rich and Wes were lovers was a kick in the gut. He felt he'd lost something of great value. Mentally, he was back in Miss Waller's office, remembering her gentle but straightforward statement that Richie Collins had died of a drug overdose. He'd lost Richie again. Well, he hadn't really, but it felt like that all over again, and he wasn't prepared for it. All he was doing was trying to control the stew of feelings welling up within him and assaulting his heart. He felt resentment toward Rich. He was jealous of Wes even though he knew he had no reason to be.
It hit Hal that having Rich Adams in his emotional space meant much more to him than he had ever admitted, a line, however tenuous, back to his first love, Richie Collins. Losing Richie had also meant the loss of the first "family feeling" he'd craved most of his life. He'd thought Rich and he had put the idea that they held significance for each other's emotional lives to rest when they came to an understanding that they could be sex buddies but not lovers. Hal had been grateful even for that much. Now he was afraid, more afraid than he'd been for a long time, that he'd lost that line. It left him empty and adrift. He needed some mooring. Suddenly Brett Carter's face floated into view. 'Well, at least I have him,' Hal thought. Ominously, Drew never entered his mind at all.
Rich had been watching Hal, hoping that there wouldn't be an outward display of anything negative in front of Wes, wondering what his new lover of only a few days was thinking. He gleaned from Wes's stare that he understood Hal was a former lover. Did Wes think Rich was a slut? Did he wonder if they were going to be accosted after every game by some former lover or sex buddy? He knew Wes had noted Rich's placating manner as he gave Hal a cleaned-up version of their meeting and becoming friends. He was going to have some explaining to do.
"Wes, Rich joins some of the guys and me - the crew," here Hal suddenly thought of Drew, turning back to the booth, catching Drew's worried look, motioning toward him, "and Drew there at Murphy's Gym for a workout late some afternoons after work. Would you care to join us?" he asked Wes - "that is, Rich, if you still plan to be there."
Rich smiled. "Of course I'm still going to be there. I need to work out with my buddies. I'll bring Wes the first break he has." 'Oh, BOY,' Rich thought, 'I've got PLENTY of explaining to do.'
"Great!" Hal exclaimed, still no smile. After a short comment that he'd be seeing them, he wheeled about and walked by Drew, announcing curtly that they were leaving.
Rich shot a questioning look at Drew, turning his chin a bit aside as though asking Drew, "What's up?" Drew shrugged his shoulders as he scrambled out of the booth to catch up with Hal. Wes looked at Rich, his brows raised in a wordless question.
Drew thought the ride to his home would be interminable because he expected it to be wordless. Drew knew that Hal wasn't thinking about him. "It's only natural," Hal broke the silence, looking ahead at the highway. "Rich has loved baseball all his life. One of the hardest decisions he ever reached was to leave what would never be more than a so-so career in the minors to become a business professional. It had to hurt. And he made it alone. Nobody helped him reach that decision. He's really a strong guy." Drew noted that Hal's voice softened when he uttered the last sentence. "He must feel like he's returned to that world a little bit, hooking up with Wes. He must be really excited. It must be hot for him when they make love."
As Hal fell silent, Drew looked out the pickup window at the passing scenery. He'd tried to put himself in Hal's place to understand what he was feeling, but Hal's behavior was starting to hurt. He knew Hal was replaying the bouts of lovemaking Rich and he had had, but now Hal was lamenting that they were gifts to Wes, not him. Not only had Drew's standing when Hal had picked him up at the beginning of the evening diminished, but it felt as though his overall importance to Hal had been reduced considerably. Boy, have I ever overestimated the depth of Hal's and my relationship,' he told himself. Was he equating orgasms with love? He guessed it was bad judgment to do so, but in his present vulnerable state, he didn't understand why. Maybe he was no more than Hal's current fuck buddy, "a bitch for a bit." Maybe he'd only been fooling himself that he was more. Hal rounded a street corner sharply, almost throwing Drew toward the driver's side of the cab, disclosing to Drew the torment Hal was feeling at being cut out. Drew hurt for Hal, but he lacked sufficient standing in the face of Hal's present circumstances to say anything meaningful. So he kept his mouth shut.
While they were rolling into the driveway of Drew's home, Hal was begging off coming in, explaining that he had an early meeting the next day. Hal was looking straight ahead. Drew opened his door and climbed down from the cab. He quietly thanked Hal for the evening and said good night, worried that a major rupture in their relationship had just occurred. It was as though Hal didn't even hear. He was backing out of the driveway before Drew ever reached the front door. 'And I thought this was going to be such a hot evening just a few hours ago,' Drew mused as Hal sped down the street, never looking back. 'I have to be dumb as dirt. What's left for me now?' he asked voicelessly.
Rich and Wes
As they walked across the parking lot of Jack's to Rich's BMW, Wes observed Rich subtly rubbing the palms of his hands up and down the sides of his chinos, the way one does to remove nervous sweat. "Why are you so nervous?" Wes asked.
Rich merely shrugged his shoulders. "Intense experience in there. Lots to explain, I guess. Don't know where to start."
"You don't have to have it all figured out to speak your mind," Wes said as Rich unlocked the doors and they slid into the car. "I might trust what you have to say more if it didn't come out sounding canned."
Rich shot Wes a look when he uttered the word "canned." And Rich thought it was intense inside Jack's! Wes's admonition about trust loaded Rich with even more of a burden. "Might be easier if you asked me some questions," Rich suggested.
"Who's the crew?"
"Most of them are employees of Hal's."
"Are they all gay?"
"Most. Several are bi. I think one's straight, Angie's husband, Bobby Cooper. Of course, Angie's straight too."
"So they still go to the gym with Hal even though he's the boss?"
"He's more than a boss, Wes," Rich answered in a protective way that surprised Wes. "He takes care of them the way he used to take care of younger kids at the orphanage where he spent his early life. He's also their buddy, a real buddy."
"Is that why you launched into that lengthy explanation to Hal about how we met and were together? Like you had some tall explaining to do? You think you fooled him?"
"Yes and no."
"So-o-o-o-o?" Wes said.
"Hal and I were seriously involved once. . . . It started the day he hired me as his accountant. Took me to dinner; then took me home and fucked me."
"Did you love him?"
"I was falling in love with him."
"What happened?" Rich sighed and launched into another lengthy explanation, this time about Richie Collins.
"Looking at Hal, I would never have imagined he was carrying all that weight around," Wes responded to Rich after he'd heard about Richie. "He looks so . . . collected - like he could command a fleet of battleships. I can see now that it takes a lot to fool Hal Winston."
"He'd have to be involved in fooling himself." Rich had driven into his driveway, signaling an end to their talk until they were inside. After closing the front door, Rich gestured to Wes to sit on the sofa. "I'll get us a beer." Wes pulled off his jacket, folded it and laid it over the arm of the sofa as Rich entered and handed him a can. Rich shed his jacket too.
"Nice house. How long have you had it?"
"About five years, I guess. It's a good investment. But I like living here too," Rich said as he flopped on the sofa.
"How come you didn't tell the crew about us? Not ashamed, were you?" Wes asked.
"Of course not. Being your boyfriend makes me proud!"
"Proud because you're involved with a jock star, you mean?"
"No. . . . I'll admit that I live every hit and play you make right along with you. But I don't do that with many players on the field. I do it because I'm in love with you."
"Do you fall in love so quickly? That quickly with Hal?" Wes asked.
Rich's head immediately drooped, feeling as though Wes's question was a reproach. "Not usually. I think you are really asking about my falling in love with you. Yes, I fell in love with you quickly. Don't ask me why or how. It just happened. It was euphoric! A rush! And I knew it was genuine - for me anyway." Wes's head shifted to the side a few degrees as though he were wondering if he'd just been challenged. "So I never questioned it, never second-guessed it. As for not telling anyone - our being together is so magical that I want to hang onto it awhile before other elements get mixed in and maybe change it."
"What elements?"
"Nothing bad, just your integrating into that group, forming friendships, accommodating to the group's wishes and expectations. Maybe finding other friends."
"You don't want me to be friends with the crew?"
"That's not it. I don't want to share you. . . . Okay! I'm selfish.," he admitted, smiling and shrugging his shoulders. "They're great guys, and you'll get to like them too, and sometimes you'll go off and do things with them."
"Awfully certain that you have the future all figured out, aren't you?" Wes asked, marking his teasing with a grin.
"Well, I noticed that your eyes were examining every inch of Hal - kind of like the Hubble Telescope. What did you see?
"An unhappy man who was jealous. A man who likes men. He didn't like seeing me with you, but he couldn't keep his eyes off my body either. I saw him treating - what's his name? . . . Drew - callously. It's like you are looking for your cap, but it's already on your head, but it feels so normal you think it isn't there. That's the way he was with Drew. Didn't even know he was there - until he invited me to the gym. You could see by his eyes how surprised he was that Drew was sitting there. Hal's a hot, sexy man. There has to be more to him than the little I saw tonight. I'll probably get glimpses of the rest when we go to the gym. So tell me about these guys on the crew."
Rich looked away a bit. Wes knew Rich was deciding how to tell him something that he wanted to come out sounding a certain way. "Max was the first guy Hal hired. They were lovers in a way until Max realized he didn't and wasn't going to really love Hal in a romantic way. Hal's hungry for romance. Max was too honest to lead him on. It hurt Hal."
"I'm surprised they stayed together."
"That's Hal. He wasn't going to punish Max by firing him. Hal's really a good guy, Wes. Well, I was next. I've already told you about that. Then Hal needed to hire Ted. Max pushed them into each other's pants. But then Hal hired Levi, and it was all over for him and Ted. Ted and Levi have a house together. Then it was Tonio. He's a great guy. A little mixed up. Likes to get it on with guys, then beats himself up afterward. He's especially vulnerable to Hal. Hal knows Tonio's hang-up, so he doesn't take advantage. Then Jamal. Don't know what happened with Hal and him. They're friendly and they care about each other, but I don't think they mess around with each other. Something going on there between those two, but they never discuss it with each other or anyone else. It's like their competitive streaks come on strong when they face off."
"Kenji was next. Of course, Hal and Kenji took up with each other after Hal took him in off the streets. But Kenji was attracted to Max. Here's the kind of guy Hal is. Hal rescued Kenji and took him home. As you said, you can't be around Hal without wanting to have sex with him, but he saw how interested Max and Kenji were in each other, so he sent them off on a dinner date that he had arranged for them. Of course, they're a couple now. Hal just hired Bobby and Angie Cooper. Angie works in the office. They're married." Rich frowned. "Hal's just hired a college kid because he thinks this kid looks like Richie Collins would if he were still alive. I'm a little worried. The kid seems okay, I'm told, but Hal keeps slipping and calling the kid 'Richie.' Hal and Drew just got together as a couple. They'll be a great couple, and Hal will have what he's always wanted - if they are left alone long enough for the relationship to develop. Now along comes this kid. I see trouble."
"Tell me about Drew."
Rich launched into the story about how and why Hal had become interested in Drew and how the crew had helped literally bring them together. Wes laughed over the story of the pile-up on the track. "Just like a bunch of citizens," Wes teased.
"Drew's some kind of administrator. He's sharp, really picks up on things. He's funny too. He's a little in awe of the crew, and most certainly of Hal. I think Drew's a goner as far as Hal is concerned. But he fits in well."
"Sounds like he really needs to."
Rich thought a moment: "Don't make the mistake of thinking that he's like a reed blowing in the wind. He has definite ideas. Anyone tries to push those, that person gets set straight right away. He's tough in ways you'd never expect. Anyone who handles as much money as he does would have to be. He likes the crew, wants to be with them, but he won't make himself over just to fit in."
"What makes him so tough?"
"Surviving not being loved by those who owed it to him. He's still his own man."
"Sounds like you are describing Rich Adams."
Rich grinned. "Yeah, we're two of a kind. I guess that's why I really like Drew. We're close. We can just look at each other and know most of the time what the other's thinking. Angie's like that too, so Drew, Angie and I have a special bond."
"Should I be jealous?"
"Why would you be?"
"So you didn't like the way the evening went down for Drew."
"Not at all. In fact, I mean to mention something about it to Hal. Those two can be great for each other if Hal would get his head out of the sand."
"So who's keeping you up-to-date on what happens with the crew?"
"Angie's the office manager. The guys like dropping into the construction trailer/office to use the facilities, get a cold drink and have a short chat with Angie. She's sort of become a big sister to many of them. Angie and I have to talk a lot about Hal's company business, and she has to come over to my office sometimes for us to work on the books." Rich smiled. "She's expecting. She's quickly become a good friend. Bobby's a lucky guy to be married to her."
"You ever want to get married?"
"To a woman? No. I found out a long time ago which direction my dick swings. You had my number in no time at all."
Wes grinned. Set his beer down, reached down and pulled off his loafers and set them neatly aside. Pulled off his socks, all the while maintaining eye contact with Rich. Then he stood and pulled his shirt over his head. Rich was finding it harder to breathe. Following Wes's lead, Rich pulled his shoes and socks off quickly, piling them up as he arose and shot over to kneel in front of Wes. Wes grabbed for him, but Rich was already on his knees, fumbling with his belt buckle and zipper to get him out of his jeans. They came down to reveal an electric blue jock strap, evoking an "oh" from Rich. He shoved his nose into the sizeable mound there, smelling Wes's essence as he slid his hands around Wes's smooth legs and butt and under the straps on Wes's glorious ass cheeks, gently stroking around Wes's lightly haired hole without actually touching it.
"Oh, baby," Wes spoke, his voice choked with lust, "you know how to touch me every way there is," he confessed as he ground his mound into Rich's face. Rich started biting and sucking on the blue elastic of the pouch, allowing his thumbs to take turns brushing ever so slightly across Wes's hole.
Rich pulled his head back, looking up at his lover, whose head was partially thrown back, his mouth open, his eyes closed. "So I'm forgiven?"
Wes had been rubbing the palms of his hand over his pecs, using the heels to brush his nips. He reluctantly opened his eyes, looking down at Rich. "Get out of those clothes - now!"
Rich stood, shucking down his chinos and black briefs. Wes stepped up to him, sliding his arms around him and pulling him into a hot embrace and kiss, which lasted so long Rich thought he might pass out. He didn't care. When he pulled back, both men gulped air. "Hell no, you're not forgiven. You let me make love to you, then we might have something to talk about." Wes's eyes were sparkling when he threatened Rich, who smiled happily.
"I need you, Wes," Rich gasped out softly. "Need you bad. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I'd say more, but you might not want to hear it."
"Try me."
"I . . . love you, Wes. I'm deeply in love with you. YOU. Not your game or your fame. YOU! It sounds lame, but you're the total package for me. I can't remember a time when I've been happier."
"I love you, Baby. It's like we were made to fit together in every way - Yin and Yang. You gonna open up for me, Baby? You gonna let your daddy have some of your incredibly hot ass?" Wes brushed kisses across Rich's lips.
Rich opened his mouth, shoving it on Wes's tongue. They'd move their heads back, looking at each other, then move forward with their tongues out, touching them, sliding them over each other before moving into a kiss. 'Tongue kissing,' Rich thought. They teased each other. Whenever one wanted to push into a full passionate kiss, the other would pull off, moving to cheek or throat. They were finally teasing themselves, testing how long they could hold off from a total kiss. In short order, neither could stand it, so they shoved their legs, cocks, stomachs and chests together as they merged in a meltdown kiss. Both were making little cooing sounds in their throat. Finally, again out of breath, Rich whispered, "Daddy, I need you, I need your dick in my ass, I need you shooting your load up my chute, anointing me with your love. Please," he whimpered lightly, ramping up Wes's desire. "Please, Daddy," he whimpered again.
As soon as he heard "Daddy," Wes's dick hardened more - if that were possible. It had started on the second date - Rich's calling him "Daddy." Their first sexual experience had seemed more a wrestling match to see who was going to top and who bottom. He secretly loved hearing Rich call him "Daddy." It had to be the first time an older man had taken a subordinate position to him. It was recognition of Wes's male prowess, his masculine personality. He knew it made him love Rich more. "Baby," Wes whispered back, nibbling on Rich's ear lobes. "Baby," Wes iterated throatily, nibbling down Rich's neck. Rich started to fall to the carpet, pulling Wes with him. Wes immediately took command, pushing Rich's legs back as he continued his nibbling, this time down the backs of Rich's thighs. Since the muscles there were bigger, he increased the power of his nibbling, evoking a groan from Rich, who started babbling his pleasure in whispers. Rich tried to push his pucker in the way of Wes's mouth, eliciting a quick grin from Wes, but he continued to tease Rich. Not being able to stand it anymore, Rich leaned up and pushed Wes's mouth on his lightly haired hole.
Wes snorted the second his nose hit his lover's rosebud, feeling tinglings signaling his prostate's preparation to deliver a load from his nuts. It was his lover's man smell. He could never get enough of it. A clean, spicy smell. It fit Rich so well. He'd never be able to put into words what that smell did to him, but if he needed a rapid turn-on for a quick toss-off on a road trip, he would visit his olfactory memory for this smell. It was amazing. That scent was always right there when he called it up, right in his nose. He'd shoot in no time at all. He had to be careful now because he was so hot that he could erupt right on the carpet due just to the smell. So he backed off and attacked, literally attacked, Rich's beautiful cock and balls. He laved the small but prominent bell cap with the seam running from the piss slit right down to the tube, splitting his frenum. Then he courted Rich's cock stem and then the smaller, lightly haired sack of balls with its crosshatching. Suddenly, he hopped up, hustling into Rich's bedroom for the lube. He snatched a towel hanging in the bathroom and loped back to Rich, his hard dick bobbing from side to side. His brief absence had marked Rich's face with a look of pain.
He smeared a blob of lube on his hand and stroked it roughly onto Rich's cock, making him suck in a big drink of air. Up and down Rich's stem, around and around the head, back down to the balls, coating everything with so much lube squishing sounds resulted. It really turned Wes on to hear those wet sounds. He repeated the same with his cock as Rich watched hungrily. Then Rich let out a little whimper, holding his legs back and presenting his ass to his lover. "Please," he gasped.
Wes loved it when he could make his baby beg for his dick. He knee-walked up tight against Rich, nuzzling the mushroom cap of his eight inches, curving up slightly, against Rich's hole, then pulling back, teasing Rich, whose pucker began to spasm in welcome to Wes's cock as Rich's ass began wiggling, trying to shove itself onto Wes. Wes smiled evilly at Rich, who began to beg: "Daddy, Daddy, take me Daddy, fuck me silly. I need you! I have to have you. I love you so much. I need to feel your love pounding into me." Wes kept teasing. Finally Rich shouted, "Now . . . I need you now!"
Wes shoved his whole dick up Rich's ass in one plunge, making him arch his back and moan loudly as his ass wiggled, trying to assist Wes in seating his dick as deeply as possible. Wow! Did his baby need and want him. 'Time to put on the velvet glove,' Wes thought, grinning wickedly. Then he s-l-o-w-l-y started pulling out of Rich, who grabbed Wes's dick with his inner muscles, making him throw HIS head back as he felt nothing but pleasure. When his head was just about to pull out of Rich's ass lips, he stopped, held there for ten seconds until Rich looked up at him to see if he was stopping. Then Wes teased Rich's sphincter with little stabs, rotating the head around just inside Rich's chute. Rich gasped, trying to plunge himself back down on Wes, but Wes pushed against his ass, which held it steady. When Rich started to whimper or beg, Wes would slide oh-so-slowly back into his lover. Then he'd repeat the cycle. Eventually, he speeded up a little. Since his dick was long and curved up and since Rich was on his back, Wes started scooping his dick into Rich, hitting his prostate repeatedly, causing a constant seeping of precum down Rich's dick.
Wes began to feel the tingling again inside the area formed by his cock, balls and hole. He wasn't going to be able to fight it much longer. So he started pounding his dick into Rich, who hunched himself back on Wes's dick. Breathlessly, Rich was calling Wes "Daddy," and Wes was calling Rich "Baby." Both were trembling, though Rich more noticeably so. All of a sudden, Rich's interior muscles clamped down on Wes's dick as a shoestring of cum blasted out of Rich's dick. Totally unable to control the reaction, Wes's pelvic muscles slammed his dick deep in Rich's chute and his knees pushed against the bed as though he could knee walk right inside Rich's ass. Wes fell on Rich's sweaty body. They lay like that for 15 minutes, each basking in the love flowing from the other.
(To be continued.)