The Most Common Denominator
Chapter 3
Later that morning, Brad answered his ringing cell phone. "Hello?"
"Good morning, big guy! It's Lyle. I hope I didn't wake you."
"Hey, Lyle. Good to hear from you. No, I have been up for awhile. We have a big catering job tonight and Carolyn was up with the sun to get over to the shop and get things started. I am going to go and load up the van for her in awhile. What's up, man?"
Lyle answered. "Well, I got this 'thing' in the mail and was taken completely by surprise."
Brad laughed. "Yeah, kind of surprised me that I asked Carolyn to marry me. Surprised me even more that she accepted."
"I just wanted to call you up." Lyle explained. "First to try to talk you out of it. And, second, to let you know I would be honored to be your Best Man."
"Great news! Thanks so much, buddy!" Brad cheered. " We're doing everything here at the house. Sort of small and intimate. Just 200 or so of our closest friends...?
Lyle rolled his eyes. With the size of the house that Brad shared with Carolyn, that wouldn't be a problem at all. "Are you guys catering your own reception?
"Well, sort of," Brad said. "Our employees are donating their time and talents. Carolyn's best friend, from when she was studying to be a chef in Paris, will be in charge of everything. It's not supposed to be too "shi-shi, though."
"Thank God for that!" Lyle said.
"And get this." Brad continued. "He's also going to be her 'Maid of Honor'."
Lyle started laughing. "You've got to be shitting me. Is he wearing the awful dress and everything?"
"Oh, no! He'll be wearing a tux that matches the ones you and I will be wearing." Brad explained.
Lyle thought, "Oh hell, fittings and all that bullshit..." "At least we won't be the only ones to be uncomfortable. Do I escort him out at the end of the ceremony?"
Brad, answered. "Hell, I don't know about all of that. You will have to ask Carolyn. Might not be so bad though. He's supposed to be one HOT mother-fucker."
"Well, then," Lyle mused. "We can only hope he is gay, too!"
"By all accounts, he is." Brad said. "You know what a fag hag Carolyn has always been."
"Lucky for you!" Lyle teased. "I guess this means the end of your dick playing days..."
Ben thought back to when he had first met Brad. It was their freshman year at college. He had just dumped all his worldly possessions on the bed by the window of his assigned dorm room. The door was still open but the light flowing through it suddenly went dim.
Ben turned around and there, silhouetted in the doorframe, was a mobile mountain of a young man. He was loaded down with all his stuff. A big duffel bag, Shoulder pads, football helmet, hockey stick, baseball bat and glove, and a suit bag.
Lyle groaned to himself. "A fucking jock. Sweaty socks, jockstraps and uniforms all over the place. Probably here on a sports scholarship, and can't put two sentences together in a conversation."
The giant advanced a few feet into the room and Lyle could better see his features. "Not bad!" he thought. At least six feet three inches, well over 230 pounds, not a bit of it looked to be fat. Short, shaggy, sandy-colored hair that looked a little sweaty at the temples. Wide set deep blue eyes set into a smooth tanned face. His face split open in an alluring, little-boy grin.
"Hey. I'm Brad. I guess we are roomies." He said simply.
Lyle caught a trace of an accent. Not the genteel Lowcountry sound, nor the heavier drawl of the upper-state. When Brad had deposited his treasure on the other bunk, he extended his hand. "My name is Lyle. Good to meet you. Where are you from?"
" I come from Cross- a little town outside of Monks Corner. Do you know where that is." Asked Brad. "Yes, I have heard of it but never been there." Nodded Lyle. He thought to himself, "It's right next to NOwhere!"
"Ah, okay. And how about you?" Brad inquired. "I can tell you aren't from around here. You have no particular accent at all."
"Hmm, there may be something to this guy after all!" Lyle thought. "I was an Air Force brat and have lived in many different places, My dad retired a few years ago when he was stationed up in Sumter. I went to high school in Camden."
Brad smiled. "That would explain it, then? Any idea what you are majoring in, yet?"
"I am here on an art scholarship." Lyle replied, waiting for the inevitable eye roll and superior smirk he usually got from jocks.
Instead, Brad's eyebrows lifted in genuine interest. "Very cool! Do you have any of your work with you? I would love to see some of it!"
"Okay, he just won me over." Lyle thought. "I have my portfolio in the bottom of that big box of art supplies. I will show it to you when I get it all unpacked."
"As you can probably tell, I am here on sports scholarships." Brad indicated the hill of equipment on his bed."
Lyle asked. "Are you looking to turn pro after college."
"Oh HELL no!" Brad shook his head emphatically. "This is all just a means to an end. I am a business major. I am going to be rich someday. I want to own one of those big houses that they have in downtown Charleston."
"Well," observed Lyle. "You seem to know what you want and how to get. I wish you the best of luck." Brad looked at him with serious intensity. "Luck, my friend, will have nothing to do with it. I intend to work my ass off."
Brad was as good as his word. He studied hard and he practiced had. He was the perfect roommate, too. He kept his stuff neatly picked up, was respectful of Lyle's space and property. He loved to watch Lyle paint, carve, or design; claiming it helped him relax after a hard day of working out and studying. He mostly kept quiet and occasionally asked thought-provoking, interested questions about what Lyle was doing or how he had perfected a particular technique.
He was also the most non-homophobic person Lyle had ever met. He thought nothing about walking back and forth to the bathroom/shower fully naked or in a jock strap. When Lyle finally did dig out his portfolio, Brad sat right next to him on the bed, hip and leg touching Lyle's while he helped support and flip the pages of the big book.
Then, at midterms, and the height of the football season. Brad had been studying hard and practicing hard too. Lyle was glad to see that he had not, in fact. worked his ass off. No, if anything it was fuller and firmer than ever. He had the classic "bubble butt" which looked so hot in his tight football uniform. Just above, he had those "dents" that Lyle found so attractive.
Lyle was cleaning his brushes in the bathroom when Brad strolled in holding his back. "You okay man?" Lyle asked.
"I think I will be alright." Brad winced. "Just a lot of stress right now with studying. I think I over worked a bit while I was lifting, too."
"Let me clear out of here and you can take a nice hot shower." Lyle offered.
When Brad finished, Lyle handed him some ibuprofen and a cold bottle of water. "Thanks man. This should help." Brad spread out his towel on his bunk and lay down on his stomach. By the way he groaned, Lyle could tell he was still in quite a bit of pain.
"Would a massage help?" Lyle asked impetuously, then immediately reddened. He had wanted to touch Brad's athletic body many times.
Brad turned his head slightly. "Oh, that sounds great! Would you mind?"
Mind? Was he kidding? "I'd be glad to help you out, buddy." Lyle said as he reached for the linseed oil. He turned on some relaxing music and sat on the edge of Brad's bunk.
Lyle warmed the oil with his hands then slid them over Brad's lower back. Applying a lot of pressure and kneading the knotted muscle. Brad fairly purred and began to relax completely. Lyle moved up his back and worked on the broad muscular shoulders.
Looking down, Lyle stared at Brad's hard ass. Dare he? He decided to go for it. Sliding his oiled hands down Brad's back, his hands made their first contact with Brad's meaty ass. Lyle waited for any objections and then continued.
Brad moaned softly as the warm hands moved over his tight buttocks. He completely relaxed his ass and leg muscles and surrendered to the healing caresses. Lyle worked over his ass and legs them gave him an amazing foot massage.
"Oh fuck, man!" Brad sighed. "This is heaven. If you gave blow jobs I would marry you!"
Lyle stopped what he was doing, slowly lowered Brad's foot to the bed and stood up.
"Brad opened his eyes and looked at Lyle's surprised expression and red face. "Oh, man! I'm sorry. I was just kidding, and that felt so good."
Lyle didn't know what to do. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He just stood there and could not look Brad in the eyes.
Brad sat up and continued. "I didn't mean to offend you, really! I just didn't think about it. I mean, you are gay right? I just thought that we were good enough friends that we could joke around a bit. Was I wrong? Will you forgive me?"
Lyle finally was able to look into Brad's eyes. "No." he said.
Brad's expression turned from pleading to misery. "Please, don't be mad at me. Please forgive me!" Lyle opened his mouth to answer. "No, I mean you weren't wrong. I am gay, but how did you know?" Brad answered. "Well, for one thing, you never talk about girls or girlfriends. Also I would have to be completely blind if I didn't notice the way you sneak glances at me all the time."
Lyle blushed again. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"On the contrary!" Brand protested. "I find it very flattering. I am glad you like the way I look!"
"Yeah, I really do." Lyle said sheepishly.
"It's cool, man. I completely understand. I like guys too." Brad assured him.
Lyle was shocked. He knew Brad saw women. He had seen pictures of Brad's old girlfriends. "You're gay? But.."
"I'm bi, man" Brad clarified. " I like women but I suck dick too- just like you do."
Again, Lyle blushed and looked down. He couldn't say anything.
Brad suddenly understood. "Oh! You're a virgin! I am so, sorry. I just assumed. You seem so self- confident most of the time."
"Merely an act of bravado, I assure you." Lyle mummered.
"It's okay. Nothing to be ashamed of. Come here." Brad held out his arms.
Hesitating only momentarily, Lyle moved into the hug. He felt his face pressed hard into Brad's firm pecs. He circled his arms around the trim waist and returned the pressure. He heard Brad speak to the top of his head. "So, you want to fool around a little bit?"
To be continued...
As always, I invite your comment: ben_sc@hotmail.com. If you have never read any of my stories, check under the "Authors" link. Look for Lyle Benton. Thanks!