Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, and any resemblance it bears to real people or events is purely coincidental. This work contains graphic depictions of gay male sex, and anyone who does not meet the legal definition of an adult in his or her political jurisdiction must leave this work now. This work is being posted to the Nifty Archives. It may not be posted to any other medium without the written consent of its author.
The Dancer
Chapter 4
I slept surprisingly well that night, and I woke up around eight the next morning. Mark was already up and dress when I dragged my naked ass into the kitchen. He said good morning and put a cup of coffee on the table for me. He got my cigarettes for me from the living room where I had left them the night before.
"How do you feel," he asked solicitously.
"Much better than I thought I would," I replied.
"I've already called my cousin, and she has two places vacant right now. One sounds really great. It's been carved out of an old house on Franklin Avenue."
"Great. Let me get cleaned up so we can go see it."
"Oh, take your time. I told her it would be mid-morning before we'd be able to meet her. I'll give her a call when we're ready to go."
He poured me a second cup of coffee and got one for himself. We sat at the table drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes, and just kind of daydreaming. After my second cup of coffee, I got up to go take a shower. Before I could leave, though, Mark said,
"Hey. Come here."
I walked over to him.
"Thank you for calling me last night. You really made me feel special."
Before I could answer, he had his mouth planted on mine. I responded to his kiss, and, in a few seconds, my cock got rock hard. We went into his bedroom, and I undressed him. In bed, we kissed and cuddled, rubbed and sucked, and, finally, he fucked me like a stallion.
The apartment was even better than I had thought it might be. Franklin Avenue ran more or less the width of the city, and it ended at the lake. The neighborhood was an older one north of Gentilly Boulevard, but not as old as it was further south. The place had high ceilings, large rooms (two bedrooms, two baths, living room, kitchen, laundry room, and breakfast room), and there was even a garage I could use. All the windows had curtains, something Mark pointed out. Mrs. Rousseau, the cousin, was as nice as Mark, and she let me have it for $600.00 a month, utilities included. I didn't know it at the time, but I had gotten the real estate bargain of the decade.
All of the utilities were already turned on, although I would have to see about transferring them to my name the following Monday. Mrs. Rousseau asked me my birth date for the lease, and, when I told her, Mark realized that that day was my birthday.
"Why didn't you say something," he asked.
"What was I going to say? Wish me happy birthday?"
"Well, happy birthday," he said. She echoed him.
When the lease-signing was all over and Mrs. Rousseau was gone, Mark asked about furniture.
Duh! I hadn't even thought about that. The place came with all appliances, including washer and dryer, but I didn't own a stick of furniture, not even a bed. I told Mark as much.
"Well, I know what your birthday present is, then," he said.
"Oh, man. You've done enough for me already," I said.
"Shut up, fuckface."
We both laughed.
"I inherited a whole house full of furniture last year when my uncle died, my father's brother. I have it in storage. You can have it."
"Mark, that's too much," I said.
"I thought I told you to shut up. I'm paying a hundred dollars a month to store the damn stuff. If you take it, you'll save me money."
"Why don't you let me buy it," I said.
"No. It's your birthday present."
"But you could sell it, couldn't you?"
"That's too much trouble. Besides, I'd feel so much better knowing it was doing some good to the guy who made a man of me."
I'm sure I blushed. I tried arguing a little more, but it was pretty apparent he wanted to give me that stuff. I hadn't seen it, of course, and it could easily have been a pile of junk, but I acquiesced to his insistence. We decided not to waste any time. We went straight to the Ryder truck place and rented a van to move it. When we got to the warehouse where it was stored, I discovered I had been given some very nice stuff, indeed. There was a leather sofa and two upholstered chairs, coffee and end tables, lamps, a beautiful desk and chair, bookcases, two beds, chests of drawers, night stands, the works. It was, quite literally, a house full of furniture. There were even dishes and pots and pans. It took us about three hours to move all the stuff, and by five o'clock my new home was set up. "I'd love for you to spend the night with me again tonight, Brian, but I actually have a date." He said that with a sheepish grin. "Way to go, man. Do I know the lucky gentleman?" I assumed I didn't.
"No. I'm afraid you don't. But you might get to meet him some time."
We returned the truck, I took Mark home, and I kissed him goodbye before he got out of my car.
"Happy birthday, Babe," he said. "Do you have plans for tonight?"
"Yeah. My boys are taking me out."
"Good. Call me tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay. Listen, Mark, thanks for everything. You've been wonderful."
He grinned, ruffled my hair, and got out.
It was after six by then, and I wasn't scheduled to meet Tommy, Jackie, and Chip until ten. I wondered if Don had left yet, and I decided to drive by his house to see. His car was still there, but there weren't any lights on. I assumed he had taken a taxi to the airport, so I decided to go in and pack my clothes.
When I got inside, I found that Don was indeed gone. He had left an envelope with my name on it on the kitchen table.
Dear Brian,
I'm sorry I didn't get to see you again before I left, but I can understand why you didn't hang around last night. Again, I apologize for forgetting your birthday. I hope the card and gift make up for that.
You really are a very special person to me, Brian, but you're not the special person. And I really don't think I'm the special person for you, either. I hope that you won't hate me, and I hope we can remain friends.
As I said, feel free to stay here until the house sells. The same goes for Chip. When it does sell, I'll make arrangements about the furniture. My brother is handling everything for me, and he'll be around to collect my car to have it shipped to Atlanta next week.
Our time together was good, and I regret it had to end in tears. But it did, and there's nothing either of us can do about that. I sincerely hope you have a happy birthday despite my insensitivity, and please don't be a stranger.
Love,
Don
I read the letter dispassionately, crumpled it, and threw it away. I noticed the second envelope on the table and opened it. It was a birthday card with ten hundred dollar bills in it. I put them in my wallet and threw the card away, too.
I spent the next three hours moving my clothes and other shit to my new apartment. Then I went back to Don's house to wait for Chip. He got there around 9:30. I made each of us a drink, and we sat in the living room for him to hear what had happened.
"Jesus Christ, Brian. What a fucking prick he is."
"Naw. Not really. I'll be better off for it."
"Probably. You're right about that."
"Do you feel like I've fucked you by moving out of here so soon," I asked him.
"Of course not. You're about the best friend I have, but, frankly, I'm ready to live by myself. I've got the cash, thanks to you."
"I'm so glad you feel that way, Chip. I was kind of worried you might feel like I betrayed you by not asking you to move in with me. But I want to live alone for awhile, too."
"That's cool, buddy. I said before you are about the best friend I have, but that isn't true. You are the best friend I've ever had, and I love you like a brother. Gimme a kiss."
Chip and I had had sex in the videos a bunch of times, and we had even fooled around a few times since then, just for fun. That kiss that night was a kiss of love, though, and we ended up sucking each other off. We showered and dressed for our night on the town.
We met Tommy and Jackie around 10:30, and I had to go through the whole story again for them. We had a late supper, and then we hit a few clubs, all straight. I danced and drank and had a great time, and then I went home to my new place. Don was behind me, and I was sort of relieved.
I woke up around noon the next day, Sunday, with a mild headache from the booze and noise and cigarettes the night before. I pissed and stumbled into the kitchen to make coffee. Then it hit me: I didn't have any coffee or anything else to eat or drink.
I took a shower and shaved, and that made me feel much better. Then I went to a McDonalds nearby for coffee. After a couple of cups, I went to a supermarket and loaded up on everything I would need. I took my time going up and down the aisles, and I even remembered to buy stuff like toilet paper, paper towels, and kleenex. I bought liquor, too, and a case of beer. As usual, nobody asked for ID.
It took me a while to put all the stuff away, but, when I was done, I felt as though I had really moved in. Chip paged me around two, and I called him on my cellular. He wanted to know how I was doing, and I told him I was doing just fine. He asked for directions to my new place, and I gave them to him. He was there in fifteen minutes.
"Wow, dude. This place is fucking nice," he said.
"Thanks. I really like it."
"Any neighbors," he asked. I had to tell him the truth, which was that I really didn't know. There were four apartments in the house, so I assumed at least some of them were occupied, but I really didn't know for sure.
"You still have some stuff at the house, you know," Chip said.
"Like what?"
"Well, isn't that TV yours? The one in my room? And don't you have a stereo and a computer and stuff like that?"
"Shit, I was in such a hurry to get out, I forgot about that stuff," I said.
"You want to get it," he asked. "We can do it now."
I took Chip up on his offer of help, and we moved the rest of my stuff to my new place. Before we left, Chip and I did a thorough check of the place to make sure I wasn't forgetting anything else. I was really glad we did, too, because I ended up finding winter clothes I had stored in a cedar closet in the study and a bunch of toilet articles.
It took both of our cars fully loaded to get all the stuff to my new apartment. Once we had it there, Chip helped me put it away and set up my electronic gear. After that, I was finally completely moved in.
It was a little after five when I remembered I had told Mark I would call him. I dialed his number on my cellular, and a man's voice answered that I recognized but couldn't place.
I asked to speak with Mark, and the man said he couldn't come to the phone right then. I asked him to have Mark call me, and I gave him my cellular number.
"Damn," I said to Chip, "a guy answered Mark's phone, and I know I know his voice. I just can't place it."
"Huh," Chip replied, just to be polite.
In a few minutes I realized whose voice I had heard--Eric Matthews. Damn, I thought. That's great for both of them, I thought, but I wondered what had happened between Eric and Mike. Maybe Don had taken Mike to Atlanta with him. Who knew?
With everything that had been going on, I then realized I hadn't heard from my parents on my birthday. They weren't able to call very often because the phone system where they were sucked, so I assumed that was the problem. We usually got e-mail through to each other about once a week or so, even though we both tried more often than that. I asked Chip to be on the lookout for any packages for me, as well as other mail, and he said he would. I made a mental note to put in a change-of-address form at the post office the next day.
Chip said he was hungry, so we went out to eat at a local place. After dinner, we went back to my place, watched a little TV, and then Chip left. I went to bed around ten and went right to sleep.
The days and weeks after my move went on as they usually did. I enjoyed living alone, but I had to discipline myself to straighten up the place and not leave my clothes and books and shit all over.
I got back into my routine of school and work, and I hung out a good bit with Chip. He even spent the night with me a couple of times, and we ended up fooling around. That wasn't the norm, though; it was just a friendly fuck to keep from getting too horny. I continued working for Ben, and I was still making money hand over fist. Since I still basically lived on the money my parents sent me, I saved almost all I made and invested it.
Within a few days of moving in, I met my neighbors. One apartment was home to a gay couple in their early thirties. One of the guys was a little effeminate, but I liked both of them a lot. I didn't tell them I was gay, but they probably figured it out. Another apartment held a single woman in her fifties. She was a nurse, and she made me promise I'd get in touch with her if I got sick. The last place housed a young married couple. He was an aspiring writer, and she was a CPA.
In late October Dr. Bobe, Mark, assigned a large project that we had to work on with a partner. The guy I was assigned to was Mike Talbot, one of the biggest jocks on campus. I had known him for all four years of high school, but we had never been friends. He tended to hang out with football-player types, and I didn't.
The project involved a good bit of computer work, and Mike didn't have a very new system. In fact, he said he didn't have Internet access, and having access was crucial to the project. I asked him why he didn't have it, because I knew he came from a very wealthy family, and he said he just wasn't interested. As the deadline got closer, we decided to spend a whole weekend working on it at my house. I even asked him to stay over Friday and Saturday nights so we could work on it as much as possible.
He came home with me after school on Friday. I got us cokes, and I showed him how to use Netscape. I had to run to Office Depot to get some paper for my printer, and I left him there to look for sites that might help us.
When I got back, I took over at the keyboard. Our topic was Shakespeare's King Lear, and I used a couple of search engines to find sites on the play. Mike sat next to me as we searched, and we talked about the sites. Suddenly, without a word of warning, he put his hand on my thigh and leaned in so he could get a better look at the screen. I must have jerked in surprise.
"Is there a problem," he asked.
All of a sudden new possibilities I hadn't even thought of opened up to me. This guy was a hunk from the tip of his toes to the top of his head, and now it looked like he might not be the heterosexual stud I had assumed he was. I wondered if Mark knew about Mike and assigned us to work together for that reason. God bless you, Mark, I thought.
"No. Of course not," I replied, "I know you can't see the screen well from your angle."
After a pause, he said, "Are you gay, or what?"
That question took me aback, and I wasn't sure where it would lead. If I said yes and he turned out to be a homophobe, he could have easily beaten the shit out of me. On the other hand, if my instincts were right and he was gay, too, it could lead to an interesting relationship. I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing.
"It's okay if you are, man. I'm gay, and I think you're about the hottest guy I know."
So I was right. "Yeah, I'm gay. I never would have thought you were, though."
"Well, I'm not out to anyone. Except you now, and a few anonymous guys I've been with. You know, guys I've met at clubs or parties. Oh, and a couple of older guys in my neighborhood that I've been fucking off and on since I was fourteen."
"How old are you now," I asked, and he said he had turned eighteen in August, right before school started.
He started rubbing my thigh, each time moving a little closer to my basket. I was getting hot from what he was doing, and I'm sure he knew it.
"You want me, right," I asked.
"Fuck yeah, I want you. Will you have me?"
The tent in my jeans was getting a little uncomfortable. He noticed I was boned, and he started gently rubbing it through my pants. I was already breathing hard, and that just intensified my arousal. I reached for his cock, and, as I had suspected, he was as hard as I was. I pulled his tee shirt over his head and rubbed his chest. His pecs were very well defined, and he was solid muscle everywhere. I put my thumbs on his nipples and started rubbing them. He responded with a deep moan of pleasure, and his nipples got rock hard to my touch. I leaned forward and started sucking one, and he writhed in pleasure.
I stood up, and he stood with me. I put my arms around him and kissed him tenderly. He would have none of that approach, though, and he had his tongue in my mouth in a nano-second. He then took my shirt off me and went to work on my nipples. He had obviously worked pierced tits before, and he know just what to do to have me near climax.
"Whooa. You're gonna make me come if you don't stop. Follow me."
I led him into the bedroom and pulled back the covers. I sat him down and went down on my knees to take his shoes and socks off. I licked his toes and the bottom of his feet, and I could taste the deodorant soap he had used on them during his gym class that day. He really liked what I was doing, and he purred appreciatively.
Next I made him take his pants off, but not his briefs. Then I kicked off my own shoes and socks, and lowered my jeans. I was wearing boxers, and they did little to hide my huge erection.
I got him to stand up, and I pushed his briefs down. Then I dropped my boxers. There we stood, facing one another, checking out each other's equipment. He wasn't very long, but his cock was very well shaped. He touched mine. The skin was all the way back behind the head, and I looked just like he did. He started stroking me, and I showed him how to use the foreskin to masturbate me.
"I didn't know you weren't circumcised," he said. "You're the first guy I've been with who's had a foreskin."
He must have heard or read somewhere about docking because he pulled my skin forward as far as it would go. He slipped the head of his cock inside my skin and started stroking both of us at the same time.
"Do you want to come this way," I asked.
"Yeah, if it's okay with you. I've never tried it before."
"No, that's cool with me, but let me take over. I think I can get more of you inside me."
The size of his cockhead was just right, and I worked my skin down to cover the whole thing and a small portion of the shaft. Pulling hard on a foreskin can hurt, but I knew how to do it and avoid pain. He put both hands behind my head and drew my face to his for a kiss. We tongue-dueled for a while, and then he started playing with my nipples again.
"You're going to fucking make me come, man," I said, "if you keep that up."
"Ain't that the point?"
I chuckled, and he did, too.
I kept up a steady stroke on our cocks, and I could feel the heat from him inside my skin. I'm sure he could feel my heat, too. We lasted maybe another two minutes, and, all of a sudden, we both stiffened and started jerking at the same time. I felt his blast of cum hit the head of my cock just as I let loose with my first spurt. I squeezed my skin as tight as I could around the head of his cock to make a little balloon out of it, but we were both ejaculating so much it began to ooze out of the sides in a second. After we blasted away, we got in bed and into a sixty-nine position to clean one another up. Neither of us was really soft yet, so we took that opportunity to suck each other off.
Mike was an accomplished cocksucker. He might never have been with an uncut guy before, but he damn sure knew how to handle a foreskin in his mouth. He teased my cock with his mouth without mercy, and, once again, we blasted forth at the same time.
"Shit," he said, after we had recovered enough to talk. "You're even hotter than I thought you would be."
"Thanks, man. You ain't so bad yourself, dude."
After a few minutes, I wanted a cigarette pretty bad, so I got up and got my pack. I offered one to Mike, but he refused.
"You don't smoke," I asked.
"Not usually. I don't mind if you do, of course; and I smoke sometimes when I'm drinking, but not regularly."
When the afterglow of two orgasms was almost over, Mike said he was hungry. I was, too, so we talked about what we wanted to do for dinner. I wasn't about to cook anything, and we finally decided to order pizza. We got two large Meat-Lover Pizzas delivered from Pizza Hut, and we dug in when they arrived. Neither of us bothered to put on clothes after our love-fest, and we sat around my living room naked, eating pizza and drinking beer.
"How did you know I was gay," I asked. "Do I act fruity?"
"Shit, no, man. You act straight as an arrow. But I saw your pictures on the Internet."
"I thought you didn't have an Internet connection," I said.
"I lied."
We both laughed.
"Asshole," I said.
"That's next," Mike replied.
We both laughed again.
We never quite got back to King Lear that night. Instead, we spent the evening holding and stroking and rubbing and cuddling.
Mike told me he had two older sisters who were married. His father was in the construction business and expected Mike to join him after college. His parents were away for three weeks, and he was staying at home alone.
It suddenly occurred to me around nine o'clock that it was Friday night and Mike was on the football team.
"No game this week," he said when I asked him about that. "As much as I like you, I wouldn't miss a game to be here. At least until it was over."
He said he had realized he was gay when he was twelve years old. He hated not being like other guys, but he loved gay sex. He had been with a couple of girls just to have something to brag about when the subject came up, and both times he had had trouble getting hard.
"You said you aren't out to anyone. I guess that means your parents don't know," I said.
"Shit, no, they don't know."
"You think they'd have a problem with it?"
He thought for a few moments. "My dad probably would. Not my mom."
"Well, they'll find out sooner or later. Parents always do."
"Do yours know," he asked.
"Yes. And they're cool about it."
"How'd they find out?"
"I basically told them. We lived in France until I was fourteen, and I had a boyfriend. My dad asked me once if I was interested in girls, and I said no, I have a boyfriend."
"That was it?"
"Well, not quite. He asked me if I knew what having a boyfriend meant in English, and I told him what I thought it meant. Turns out I was right on target. The three of us talked about sex and love and all that, but basically they really didn't react."
"You're lucky, man. You think your dad suspected, and that's why he asked you if you were?"
"Oh, I'm sure of it. My dad has a brother who is gay, so it's not like it's unprecedented in the family. My grandparents know, and they're cool with it, too. In fact, if somebody asks me, and I don't feel threatened or anything, I always tell the truth."
"Did I threaten you before? When I put my hand on your leg?"
"Well, let's just say you're big and tough enough to beat the shit out of me with one hand tied behind your back. I didn't know you very well, and I wasn't sure what you'd heard about me. I wasn't in the mood to take any chances."
"Babe, hurting you is the last thing I'd ever do." He leaned over and kissed me tenderly. I thought that was pretty touching.
Around ten o'clock I asked Mike if he'd like a beer.
"You got anything stronger," he asked.
"Yeah. Sure. Scotch?"
"That would be great. Just a little water and some ice, okay?"
"Coming right up." I went into the kitchen and made us each a drink. I sat back down on the sofa next to Mike and lit a cigarette. He got up and went to his clothes. He came back with a pack of his own--Marlboro Red box, just like mine, only the box was in pretty bad shape. He fired one up, and we sat there drinking and smoking.
We decided to watch the movie version of King Lear. I had read the play, as had Mike, but neither of us understood it all that well. The movie had Laurence Olivier as Lear, and it was really pretty engaging. Of course we stopped it a couple of times to freshen our drinks, but we managed to make it all the way through by around one o'clock without either of us going to sleep.
After the movie we went to bed. Mike took the lead by starting to kiss me. It ended up with him fucking me with a promise that I could fuck him next time--meaning the next day. We drifted off to sleep around two in each other's arms.
We woke up late the next day, and it was after one o'clock before we got around to doing any work. But, when we worked, we really worked. We had our whole project finished by eight o'clock Saturday night. That left the rest of that night and the whole day Sunday for fun.
After we finished the project, we went out to get something to eat. Mike knew a place that made great po' boy sandwiches, and I gobbled down a roast beef and a drank a beer in no time. He did the same.
"So, what do you want to do," he asked.
"What do you want to do?"
"I want to go back to your place and let you fuck my brains out," he said.
"Shhhh," I said. "People are going to hear you."
"I don't give a fuck," he said. "I'm proud to be with you, man."
That statement touched me deeply, and I felt tears come to my eyes. He was the stud of the school, the best guy on the football team, and had the face of an angel. And he had just said he was proud to be with me.
"That makes me feel really good, Mike," I said.
"What?"
"What you just said. That you were proud to be with me."
"Brian, you're about the cutest person I've ever known, and I fuckin' am proud to be with you." Brief pause. "I really like you, man."
"I really like you, too."
"I've been hard or half hard all day. I'm surprised you didn't notice," he said.
I grinned.
"You asshole," he said. "Why didn't you put a move on me?"
"Cause we had work to do," I said. "But we don't any more."
The ride home was rather interesting. Mike put his hand on my bulge and rubbed it as I drove. He also rubbed himself. In fact, he took his cock out through the fly of his jeans, and I could see that it was slick and shiney with precum. He played with himself and with me the whole way home, and, by the time I pulled into my parking place in the garage, I was just about to pop. Mike got out on his side really quickly and came around to open the door for me. He grabbed me in a bear hug. His dick was still out of his pants and standing at a perfect forty-five degree angle. He opened my fly and took my dick out, too, and we stood in the darkness kissing and rubbing our cocks together.
The back of the house faced a service alley, so I was pretty sure nobody could see us, even though the garage door was still open. I was so hot and horny, I didn't care if anybody did see us, but I knew that was unlikely. Mike snuck his hand under my tee shirt to get to my nipples, and he rubbed them and played with them until I was almost in ecstasy.
"Oh, God, you give me so much pleasure," I said, between tongue probes.
"Good. That's what I want to do. I want your whole body to sing with pleasure from me. You know, I could fall in love with you," he said.
"Me, too. I mean, with you." Ordinarily, that line would have made us laugh, but our emotions were way beyond laughter at that point.
In the heat of that moment, I guess I didn't realize what I had said, but it was my heart talking, not my head. That boy was as prime a specimen of the hot, young seedbearer as anyone could ever hope for, and all I knew at that moment was that I never wanted the sex to end.
We continued kissing and rubbing against each other for a long time. Now and then Mike would turn my nipple loose long enough to stroke my cock in the way I liked it best, and then he would return to my chest. Our cocks were slick and wet with precum, and they slid against one another with liquid ease. I told Mike I was getting really close to coming, and he said he was, too. Instead of stopping, though, and going inside like respectable folk, we continued humping each other in the garage. In another three or four minutes, we both came, drenching each other with our cum.
We finally separated after our stupendous orgasms and leaned back against my car. I lit a cigarette, and Mike pulled out his battered pack and lit up, too. Neither of us lost our erections, and we sat propped up against the trunk of the car, smoking and sticking out like dogs in heat.
"How long have you noticed me," I asked. I wondered why he hadn't come on to be before then.
"Since the first day of freshman year."
"Are you shitting me," I asked.
"No, I'm not, man. I've jerked off to my mental picture of you for years. It wasn't until I saw those pictures of you on the Internet that I thought I might have a chance with you." Saying that, he reached down and stroked his cock a time or two, something I found very hot. "By the way, who took those? It looks like you're dancing or something in some of them."
I hadn't told Mike about my job before then, but that seemed like a good time to let him know about how I earned my living. I told him everything. I wasn't sure if he would think I was some kind of slut or bum or what, but he said it sounded hot and would like to see me perform.
After we finished our cigarettes, Mike and I went inside and made love all over again. I fucked him that night, and I'd never seen a man have a more violent orgasm. That was just the beginning, though. We became a couple after that, and we lived together through college and Mike's first year of law school.
I got the news of his accident from Chip. He had been at our house when the police had called while I was out on a gig. A drunk driver had run up onto the sidewalk just as Mike happened to be walking by, and he was killed instantly. In a matter of seconds everything I had loved and cared for was taken from me.
I have never danced again.
End