This story is a side story that takes place six years before the main events of the story between Dennis and John. It tells how Bill and John first met.
THE SWIM TEAM, PART VI.V -- WHEN BILL MET JOHN
SIX YEARS AGO
It was that time of year again--summer--and that meant one thing: theater season. It was all his wife talked about throughout the year, and it was the time of year Bill hated the most. The season ran for eight weeks in the hot, humid weather of Bay City--the metropolis located just 30 minutes up the interstate from the small suburb of Seaside. Now, it wouldn't have been all that bad if the theater was indoors, but Bay City happened to have one of the largest outdoor municipal theaters in the entire world, if not the largest, so every Tuesday--same Bat-time, same Bat-channel--Bill was subjected to sitting through a bunch of fairies frolicking across a stage while he bathed in his own sweat. On top of all that, his wife made him wear a stupid Hawaiian shirt to every show because it was the "unofficial" attire of all the "older, distinguished" men in the crowd. So that is where Bill found himself that Tuesday night, the first night of the new season, preparing to sweat his way through all twenty hours of "The Sound of Music."
They arrived at 6:30 even though the show didn't start until 8:15. His wife, Mary, had a whole routine she had to do before each show. At 6:30, they'd take their usual parking spot near the park tennis courts. This provided the perfect vantage point to clear the area after the show was done. Then, she would immediately lay out a blanket so they could spend the next half hour sharing a picnic together. Of all the hard things he had to endure during one of these shows, the fact that his body didn't quite bend anymore in the way picnics required, made this one of the worst for Bill. After finishing the meal, they would head over to the pavilion for light show tunes and socializing with some of their mutual friends. In reality, this meant Bill standing awkwardly near a picnic table while Mary laughed obnoxiously at a couple telling stories from their family vacation. Cynthia, the woman was quite nasally, and Grant, the husband, always wore a cardigan around his neck. Seriously, Bill thought, it's 90 degrees out, you're never going to need that fucking cardigan. Finally, like clockwork, they would all file into the theater at 7:45, so that Mary would have time to use the restroom and locate their seats. This was the one part of the night Bill looked forward to. For in this moment, under the guise of needing to use the restroom himself, he would get to split up from the group and have some alone time.
Bill loved his wife. He really did. They had met in high school and had been together ever since. It was one of those romances most high school girls dream about; though, in reality, it was a little less romantic than the movies would have you believe. They got married, had two lovely kids, and were generally liked by their friends and neighbors. Bill had never strayed, nor had he even looked at another woman with any sort of lust like he did his wife. Instead, he looked at their husbands. And if the theater was good for anything, it was the eye candy.
As he neared the restroom, Bill noticed another older gentleman making his way down the ramp. The man had a receding hairline, but otherwise had a nice head of snow white hair. He wore glasses, and had a pelt of chest hair reaching out from the deep V in his salmon-colored Hawaiian shirt. Various flowers circled around the shirt that was tucked tightly in his shorts. The man had no meat on his bones, but that was alright. Bill tended to like some heft, but from his experience, the skinny guys had longer cocks, which meant more to see.
Bill followed the man into the restroom and took a urinal two up from him. There were some other guys in there, but it was a large restroom, so they were too awkwardly spaced for his purposes. He unzipped his fly and pulled out his 3.5 inches of soft meat. He gave it a tug and started pissing. His heart always began to race at this point. It was exhilarating and nauseating at the same time. With a deep breath, he shifted his eyes to the left and turned his head ever so slightly. He caught sight of the man's hand, which was mostly blocking his cock. Fuck, Bill thought. That was just his luck. First show of the season and the guy's dick wasn't big enough to reach past the hand. But, just as he was about to turn back, the man shook the excess urine from his dick and Bill caught a glimpse of it flopping. Just as quickly as it began, however, the man slid his member back into his pants, zipped up, and left the room. Bill looked down at his own dick, gave it a shake, and exited, as well.
He found his way to his seat--these were different from the ones they had last year--and handed his wife her lemon shaved ice from the concession stand. She always had a lemon, and he always had strawberry. He hadn't paid much attention when he had asked the people to move, as he was more concerned with sneaking by them quickly so as to not inconvenience them any more than he already had. But after sitting down, as he was getting situated, he caught glimpse of the man on the end. He was a little older than Bill, probably in his mid-fifties, and had a full head of salt-and-pepper hair, with a similar beard to match. Like the man in the restroom, this man also had a tuft of chest hair poking out of his teal Hawaiian shirt. Unlike the guy from before, this one had the most magnificent belly Bill had ever seen. It was nice and round, with no flab. Just a perfect, firm gut. The man looked over and, for a second, their eyes met. Bill immediately turned his attention back towards his shaved ice, and didn't dare look back over until after the orchestra had played the national anthem and the show had begun.
When he finally did look over--at some point around the time Maria was arriving at the von Trapp estate--the man was engrossed in the show. This gave Bill the perfect opportunity to take him in. He watched as the man's gentle face reacted to the action. He laughed; he scowled; he looked as if he was genuinely concerned with the happenings, as if he hadn't seen the show a thousand times before. All the while, he had his right hand crossed over his left arm, placed lightly atop his wife's. That sealed that. Not like anything was going to happen anyway; Bill had never acted on his desires for men. But this guy and his wife looked good together, and there was no way Bill had any chance . . . even in his wildest dreams. The show broke for intermission and Bill had to stand up. Mary would tell him it had only been a little over an hour, and not ten like he claimed, but intermission was always the perfect time for Bill to stretch his legs by reengaging in his favorite sport. When he saw the man from the end of the row stand up, as well, Bill knew that his luck may have improved.
He followed the man through the crowd and joined the line heading into the men's restroom. It was nothing compared to the line for the women's, which stretched up and down the aisles, and it moved at over double the pace. The man ended up a few spots ahead of him. As the line worked around the corner and into the restroom, Bill saw the man take the next available open spot all the way down on the right next to the sinks. Just then, as if part of a dream, the urinal next to that one opened as well. Bill rushed that way, not wanting anyone else to swoop in and take it from him.
His heart was racing before he even had his dick out. Taking a deep breath, he peeked down to the right and saw about two inches of the man's cock. And what a cock it was! It was thick and smooth, with no visible blemishes. The head was nice and round and was shooting a steady stream of hot piss into the urinal. Beneath the man's hand was a dense bush of pubes. Bill licked his lips without even realizing it. As he did so, he saw movement from higher up. His head darted upwards and for a brief second, he could see the man staring down at his own cock. Then, the man's eyes met Bill's once more. Bill panicked. Shit! He had been caught. The man who was sitting right next to his wife had caught him looking. What if he told her? What if he outed Bill for being a bit curious? It would ruin everything.
Bill didn't even shake, he just shoved his dick back in his pants and rushed out of the room. He didn't stop for his usual popcorn and soda, he just found his way quickly and quietly back to his seat and sat down.
"No popcorn?" Mary asked. "I was looking forward to that."
"Not tonight," Bill muttered. "Line was too long," he lied.
The man came back and took his seat next to his wife. As he was maneuvering into the seat, he looked up the aisle at Bill. Their eyes met once more and Bill immediately choked.
"Are you alright?" Mary asked.
"Yes," Bill panicked. "Why wouldn't I be?"
Mary looked at him suspiciously. "You don't seem alright."
"Well I am," Bill shouted softly, so as not to draw the attention of the couple next to them.
Mary lingered on him a few seconds more and then turned back to face the stage. The lights lowered, and the second act began.
Bill sat there in silence, his mind racing. Part of him was terrified about what might come of his indiscretions; part was thrilled by what he had seen; and part was fixated on the fact that the man had also been staring at him. Was this man just like Bill? Was he happily married, yet secretly longed for stranger's cock? Had the man been more successful than Bill in finding cock before? He didn't dare look up at the man, but the thought the man might be looking at him filled his head.
Maybe because of the heat, maybe because of his state of being, Bill was sweating profusely by the time the curtain closed. The group to his left had left during the last song--a big no no in Mary's book--so the aisle was free and clear. Bill led his wife out the open way so they wouldn't have to interact with the couple next to them, whom Mary had become fast friends with. He could hear her shouting goodbye to them as she tried to keep up and not lose Bill in the crowd.
When they got to the car, Mary turned to her husband. "Do you think that maybe this season you can try to not be such a grouch? It won't kill you to sit with me for one night a week and take in a show."
Bill didn't answer. He just stared ahead and drove them home. His mind was lost . . .
The next week rolled around and they entered the same routine again. They had their picnic, which Bill sat through on his best behavior; then they met up with Cynthia and Grant, who were now going on about how Mary and Bill simply must join them for dinner on their new yacht; and then they filed into the theater and parted ways. Bill had finally overcome his paranoia about the following week. It was a fluke, he told himself. The man would never out himself just to out Bill. There had to be some sort of bro code between Hawaiian-shirt wearing, older, distinguished men. Either way, he was fairly confident that nothing would come of it and there was nothing to worry about.
He followed a stout man with a brown caterpillar of a mustache perched atop his upper lip into the restroom. The man was about five foot five and had a fresh layer of padding all around his midsection. Completely ignoring any standard urinal etiquette, they each took their places a few apart and went about their business. Bill was disheartened to find himself striking out again. The mysterious man had no cock at all, at least not that Bill could see. Sensing his bad luck, he shoved his meat back in his briefs and made his way out. On his way, he passed two dashingly good looking men in their mid-sixties. He wanted to turn back, but it was too late. He only got one opportunity before the show, and one in the middle. Beyond that, no matter what he saw coming, it was too risky to go back for second helpings.
Bill picked up the shaved ice and worked his way back to the seat. This time, the man was waiting for him. He stood up and gave Bill a smile, one that instantly caused Bill to stir in his pants. The man's eyes were a light blue and they looked into Bill's with a genial intensity that Bill could not break. He felt himself smile, but he had made no effort to do so.
"Excuse me," he finally said.
"Not at all," the man replied. "Enjoy the show."
"Thanks," Bill responded. Reaching his seat, he handed the shaved ice to Mary. He looked across the wives at the man, who was now staring off into the crowds. Bill wondered what he was looking at, what he was thinking. For some reason, Bill was drawn to him. Maybe it was because the man knew his secret. That little bit of knowledge meant this man knew something about Bill that no other living person knew. Not even Mary. It terrified him and thrilled him all at once. He had no clue who the man was, but he wanted to know more. But fear of what he might be revealing about himself would hold him back from even trying to get to know him. If he knew one thing about himself, it was that. That was what had prevented all other opportunities before; and, like those, it would prevent this one. Bill sat back and chipped away at his strawberry shaved ice as "42nd Street" began.
Intermission rolled around again and Bill had to say he was actually enjoying this one. There was still too much dancing for his taste, but the hustle and bustle of New York City had always appealed to him. Maybe Mary was right and things wouldn't be so bad if he just had the right attitude about it. Of course, he would never admit to her he was thinking that way. He stood up and made his way out of the aisle. The man on the end was already gone, so it was just over the two wives and he was free.
Bill made his way through the crowd and found himself once more in the line for the bathroom. It was moving slowly tonight, but it was no matter. They were only a few minutes into the twenty minute break. As he worked his way closer to relief, he glanced around, scoping out those he might try and size up. There was a stately looking fellow that had clearly missed the memo for the Hawaiian shirt. Instead, the man had on a long sleeve, button down and slacks. He must have thought they were going to an actual theater, one with a fancier attire. Bill did not envy him in this heat. Another man was escorting his older father. The father was a bit too old for Bill's taste, but the son was about Bill's age, had only a slight bit of padding around the middle, and had a smile that could light up Broadway. Bill wanted to see more. Unfortunately, the man directed his father straight towards a stall, and the two disappeared. Bill sighed and made his way to the nearest opening.
As he pissed, he stared longingly down at his own pecker. The men on either side of him weren't worth a look, and he knew he had blown his shot for the week. As he wallowed in that thought, the man to his right left, and another stranger filed in. Bill suddenly became aware he was being watched. He glanced over, saw the stranger's cock, and then tensed up. He moved his head upward and saw the man from his aisle staring at him. The man had his left hand on his dick and, with his right arm, he reached over his left and extended his hand to Bill.
"Hi, I'm John," the man said. "Like what you see?"
Bill looked away for a second. He hadn't even been looking this time. The man must have sought him out. "I . . . I . . ."
"No worries, man. We've all got one."
"Yes," Bill choked in agreement. The man's hand was still extended. What was going on here? Bill thought. He looked around to see if anyone else was watching this exchange. Not seeing anyone, Bill shoved his cock into his left hand and reached up to take the man's hand. "Bill," he stuttered.
John smiled. "Nice to meet you, Bill. Would you like a closer look?"
"Here? Now?" Bill whispered. Of all the places in the world, he wanted to do this here?
"Of course," John said. "Handicap stall is perfect."
"But the show," Bill protested.
"You don't care about the show. I see your eyes drooping not even ten minutes in."
Well, Bill thought, he actually was enjoying this one, but the man--John--had been staring at him. He was just as interested in Bill as Bill was him. But he couldn't go into a stall with another man. Could he? What if they were seen? What would Mary say when he didn't come back during before the second act? No, he couldn't do this. But he wanted to so bad. This man was perfect. He could think of nothing he wanted more than to take a closer look at the man's gorgeous cock. There was no way, though. He started to say `no' and out came "fine."
John told Bill to go to the stall, and then a few seconds later he slid in behind him. John moved towards Bill.
"I . . . I . . . this is a mistake," Bill said.
"Relax," John insisted.
"I've never done something like this before."
"Really? I guess I can see that. You are interested, though, right?"
"You have no idea," Bill admitted.
"Good, then let's get started."
John reached his hand forward and placed it on Bill's package. The area was warm to the touch and slightly damp from Bill's sweat. He cupped Bill's nuts and rubbed gently, applying more pressure each time he ran his fingers over the bulge. "How does that feel?" he asked Bill.
"Marvelous."
"Good." John twisted his hand until his fingers found the zipper. Slowly, he tugged downward, opening the way to Bill's deepest and darkest secrets. Bill stood there motionless as John undid the button and pulled Bill's pants and underwear to the floor. There was no turning back now.
Bill's cock had grown two inches from its 3.5 inch flaccid state and now stood at 5.5 inches, pointing straight at John. A drip of precum dangled dangerously at the tip of his round mushroom-shaped head. John lowered himself to the floor and brought his face forward, extending his tongue until he caught the precum. As he licked to suck it in, his tongue came in contact with Bill's dick for the first time in what would be a long, fruitful relationship. Bill shuddered at the touch, goosebumps popping up in rapid succession all throughout his body. John saw this, and gave a chuckle. "You haven't felt nothing, yet." He took his left hand and squeezed the base of Bill's cock tightly and brought his mouth fully over Bill's sausage. He devoured it, taking the whole thing in one big gulp. Mary had never taken the whole thing, Bill thought. She had never done anything like this.
John took the whole thing and spit it back out, and then took it again, leaving another layer of spit each time he slid it in and out. Bill thought he must surely be ready to gag, but each plunge felt like it went deeper and deeper. He leaned back against the wall and moaned to himself. The way John's tongue slid mercilessly around the head of his cock, moving up and down, around and around; the way John's pinky flicked at Bill's low-hanging nuts as the rest of his hand formed that tight ring, constricting the blood; and the way it felt like all the cares in his world just dissipated more and more with each passing second. This was wonderful. It was truly everything he had imagined from an experience with another man. He grabbed the pipe of the toilet and felt his balls shrivel up, as his seed prepared to launch. Without even thinking about whether he should shoot in the stranger's mouth or not, he ejected his load so hard down John's throat he made the man cough. John raised his hand, wiping the oozing cum off his chin.
Bill stood there, breathing hard. John stepped forward and planted a kiss gently on Bill's lips. "We better get back," he said.
"Do I get to try?" Bill asked. He wanted to now more than ever before.
"You really haven't sucked a cock before?" John asked, giving him a look of suspicion and surprise.
"Never."
"How about we get together later this week. You got a place?"
Bill thought for a second. "Yeah, I know a place."
"Good, let's do that. Come on, let's get some popcorn and make it look like we've lost track of time. Your wife will never suspect a thing."
"What about your wife?" Bill inquired.
"Oh," John said, "she knew all about this. I told her I caught you peeking last week. She's the one who suggested I help you along."
"She knows?" Bill said. His mind was racing once more. John had snitched on him after all. But John's wife knew and she didn't care. Would Mary care? Should he tell her? No, that was an absolute, definite no.
"What can I say? A couple that sucks together, stays together."
Bills mind was spinning. How lucky this guy was. They stepped out of the stall into the empty restroom. The second act had already started and the concessions were shutting down. They managed to snag some popcorn and get back to their seats. Mary looked at him angrily--interrupting the show was sacrilege--but calmed after she got her popcorn. Bill looked down the aisle and saw John sitting there on the end. John turned and flashed him that smile and Bill knew his luck was finally changing.