Pool

Several hours later, I awake. Lance’s trim form is curled against me in a fetal position, snoring sonorously. My legs, my arms, my body enfold him. How sweet his innocent young body feels enclosed in mine. The smell of our sex hangs heavy in the room. I can clearly distinguish our personal musks, mine older, funkier, his gentle, cloying like a fresh spring breeze.
I lie there a while, soaking up the protective and nurturing feelings I have for this youngster.

After a while, he stirs. At first he is startled like a fawn in a forest clearing, then he relaxes a bit as memories of the past hours flood back. “Hi guy.” I say. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says, wriggling his sweet butt against me. Immediately ‘the monster’ stirs, his semi rigid length nestled in the sweeping curve of Lance’s buttocks. I kiss the back of his neck, my arms hug him tightly. 

“What time is it,” he asks, suddenly concerned. I glance over at my clock radio, shining green like a Martian beacon. 

“Four-thirty,” I reply. 

“He jerks fully awake stretching his body out. “In the afternoon?”

I laugh softly. “Relax. “Four thirty in the morning.” I reassure him.

“Wow, I’d better get going, I gotta be at work at nine.”

“Why not just settle back in, spend the rest of the night here,” I respond? I’lll make sure you get to work on time.”

“I need a shower, clean clothes. I’d better be going. 

“Okay, okay”, I say. “I’ll call you a cab. And, Lance. Thank you so much for our time together. It’s been truly wonderful.”

He turns to face me, kisses me full on the lips. “No, thank you,” he insists. “It, you, the night, was everything I had imagined.”

“Well,” I chuckle. “You’re very, very welcome.”

2.

Nearly a week passes. Stupidly, assuming he would not be back, that his natural homophobia would kick in, I had not thought to get Lance’s phone number or address. Periodically, though, throughout the days that have passed, my time with him has flashed upon my inward eye, bringing a deep sense of loss and longing. I have not cruised for six days. Somehow the thought of anonymous, hurried couplings just doesn’t hold the thrill for me. I see his neat, thin cock, surrounded by that downy, curly scarlet nest; is boyish face and flashing golden smile. I ache for his tender young body next to mine.

Thursday morning I sit sunk deeply in my soft grey leather sofa, feeling sorry for myself, for love’s labors lost, gently touching myself through my slacks, remembering our sweet, sweet time together. The chirping of the phone interrupts my reverie. “Yeah, hello”, I intone listlessly. 

“Is Jeff there please?”

“Lance? Lance, is that you?”

“Hi Jeff!”

“What? But? How did you get my number?”

That lilting sparkling laugh. “Easy. I know where you live and at the place where I work they have one of those reverse directories where you can get a phone number if you have the address.”

“Clever. Very clever. To what do I owe the honor and privilege of this call?”

“Well, listen, Jeff. I wasn’t sure I would. I mean I didn’t know if I. Shit! Who am I kidding? I been thinking about you, about us, all week. Can I see you? Can I come over?”

Trying to sound calm and mature when my insides are whooping and dancing like a three- year-old at Disneyland isn’t easy, but I manage. “You mean like right now? This afternoon?”

“Well, no actually I meant tonight. Like after work.?”

“Gee, let me check my appointment book,” I tease.

“Cumon, Jeff. Don’t be like that. I would have called you sooner, but I wasn’t sure if I . . Didn’t know if I. . . Oh you know what I mean. I’m sorry. I really am. But I need to talk to you and. . . .“

”There it is, that wonderful, glorious, heartwarming ‘and’!

“I’m only teasing.” I drop my voice trying to sound sexy, appealing. “Lance, truly, I’d love to see you again.”

“Really?”

“What do you mean ‘really’, of course really. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, it’s like I was so. . . So .. Stupid..”

Before he gets too extreme with this whole lack of self-esteem stuff, I have to do something, say something.

“What time?”

“How would seven o’clock be. If that doesn’t interrupt ur dinner or something?”

“I’ve got an idea, Lance. How about I pick you up and we go out to dinner? On me, of course.” 

After more hesitation. More ‘uhs’ and ‘ers’, I manage to set a time and get his address. I am manipulating a little here because I want to get him to my place without his car, want him dependent on me. Want him, yes it’s true. I want him to stay. With me. Forever? “Woah, Jeff, easy man!”

The rest of the day is a whirlwind. I spend forty minutes choosing my wardrobe for the evening. I finally decide on white cotton slacks with a drawstring top. Loose enough to be comfortable, to allow ‘the monster’ to move freely, but tight enough to display his heft and size. Shirt of black silk with loose sleeves and two buttons open at the throat, my gold nugget hanging suspended in the first few curls of my chest hair. Off white camel hair Armani sports coat. Gold Rolex and black onyx ring. 

I make reservations at Geraldo’s ,quiet and comfortable with a great menu; swank enough to be impressive but not overwhelming. Not too ‘gay’, but liberal enough so we won’t attract attention. I roll up a few joints of my best weed and carry them in my breast pocket in my WWI thin brass cigarette case.

I find myself with several hours to spare before our appointment, spend them pacing nervously around my apartment like a caged snow leopard. At last six o’clock arrives and I move to the garage to select my ride for the night. “What the hell,” I decide and opt for the blood red 55 MG classic. The ulterior motive which clenches the choice: the limited space will bring us very close together, I will have plenty of excuse to ‘accidently’ touch his leg as I shift through the gears.

Lance’s lodgings are in a modest brownstone in the ‘gentrified’ uptown section. I ring the bell and wait. He flings open the door, resplendent in very tight baby blue brushed denim jeans, white dress shirt, baby blue cotton blend cardigan and penny loafers. A long curved area on the front of his jeans, worn almost white, outlines the long slim curve of his “Lance”

Several awkward moments pass, perhaps thirty seconds, before Lance steps forward, engulfs me in a tight embrace and kisses me full on the lips. “Oh god,” I think, this night is starting out full of promise, as I return his kiss avidly. Something unknowable has changed in his demeanor, my mind questions, but my lips do not. Some things may be better unsaid.

Lance steps back to admire my togs, a grin of appreciation lights his handsome face, igniting a slow fire in my gut.

* * * 

Dinner goes well. Lance let’s me order for the two of us and I choose rolads of beef in mushroom sauce, German potato pancakes and asparagus spears swimming in drawn butter. I order a fine light wine from the Rhine valley, but Lance takes only occasional sips. Throughout dinner Lance is nervous and fidgety; my attempts at light conversation, though well intentioned, seem to go nowhere. From time to time during the one hour or so we dine, he slips off one or the other of his penny loafers and runs his stockinged foot over my leg. I am fearful that when I rise a wet spot will be visible on the front of my white trousers. 

Dinner finished, we walk in silence to the vintage sports car. Pulling the case from my breast pocket I fire up a dube and pass it over. We sit qietly passing the joint back and forth for some minutes. “Are you all right?,”I ask. 

“Just thinking.”

“What about?”

Once again the shy stammering, the scarlet face. “Just drive. Please.”

“Where to?”

Lance looks at me like I have lost my mind. “Aren’t we going to your place?”

“As you wish sir,” I reply, my best chauffeur imitation spoiled by the silly grin which crosses my face.

I guide the racy little car through four gears until we are humming along the windy mountain road. Moving my hand from the shift knob I place it lightly on Lance’s leg, fingertips curled over the inside of his thigh, lightly teasing. His long lean manhood grows, strong, firm, stretches to meet my fingers. He squirms his butt around on the seat, positioning himself for maximum contact, leans back and closes his eyes. I cup him possessively, moving my hand now and then to up or downshift, then return it to its place.

Once inside my place, I attempt once again to ascertain what the problem is, why the silence, the nervousness, but Lance grasps my shoulders with both his hands, his eyes capturing and holding mine with such intensity that I dare not speak further. His features are strained with a strange look, almost of desperation.

“Please. Please, Jeff don’t say anything. Just don’t. Okay?”

I nod and wait. He reaches to take my hand and guides me back to my bedroom. He turns. His supple young fingers start with my jacket and toss it carelessly aside. His fingers are shaking, fumbling as he loosens the drawstring on my slacks, pushes them down in a puddle around my feet. He kneels before me. Takes my hardness in his mouth. Without preliminary he begins to suck me, long gliding deep strokes, his tongue swirling. No gagging this time, as he expertly takes me to the brink of orgasm. 

He rises and steps away from me. Quickly strips and crawls into my bed. Arms outstretched, he beckons.
I do not hesitate but move immediately to lie full upon him, enclose myself in his waiting arms.

His lips hover near my ear. “Jeff. I want you to take me! I want it so bad. Pleaase don’t refuse me. Please. I want you.”

I am about to inquire if he means what I think he does when he pushes me downward. “How? What’s the right way? Like this?” And he pulls his knees back against his body, raising his adorable butt 

“Are you sure? I mean, uh. . . Er. . . .” Now he has me stammering.

“God! Would you please shut up and do it!”

I rise to my knees. Glance down. His muscled cheeks disappear into darkness, the shadow at the center ringed by a very slight almost transparent ring of fuzzy bronze. At least one part of me can take a hint. My cock is so hard, so full that it seems ready to split. Clear fluid oozes out in copious amounts. I move close. I take my cock in hand and rub it gently up and down his crack. He shudders. Moving forward I touch his dark secret hole with the very tip of my swollen head, rotating a bit to apply lubrication

“Do it! He commands, his voice shaky with fear and anticipation. 

I press forward. Meet resistance. Press harder. Apparently gentleness is not going to work. I thrust hard. My bulbous head pops past his tight sphincter, entering him. He cries out!

“Oh!”

Holding perfectly still, I wait for him to adjust, reaching out to stroke his body and murmuring. “It’s okay. Okay. Relax. Try to relax. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It hurts, he gasps. I knew it would. It hurts but I want it anyway. Go ahead. Do it! Please?”

With infinite slowness I press inward. Deeper. Deeper. Finally I am fully in him. I grasp the tops of his thighs and draw his body tight against me. Deep inside my cock throbs and jumps. Lance moans deeply, releasing the air he has been holding pent up in his frightened lungs. 

“Oh god,” he says. “It’s like fire! More! More!” Beneath me his golden face is contorted in paroxysms of agony and extreme need. I draw slowly out, his anus a tight fist clamping me. I use my hands on him, soothe the backs of his legs, his belly, his nipples, in gentle, undulating feathery strokes. So tight, so resistant, is his small ass, that I grunt on each inward push. I continue slowly forcing my way in and out of him for several minutes, trying for a strong jerk at the end of each thrust, bumping against his prostate with my heavy knob.

Suddenly his young form goes slack, his body loosening, resistance gone. His body opens to me and I glide easily and swiftly in and out. Lance begins thrashing about under my weight. His cries of pain and moans of pleasure blend into one long keening deep in his throat. Inspired, I pick up the pace. 

His gentle voice begins repeating, “Yes! Yes!” over and over in a high pitched whisper. I bend his legs back tighter against him, raising his adorable butt, his hole pointed straight up and slam straight down into him. Huge, long, strong thrusts, my ball sac bouncing off his backside. Heat flashes from all over my skin like a sudden grass fire rushing inward to my groin. Blackness swirls around my consciousness. I feel my hot seed rushing toward my balls, my cock. 

One fiery blast erupts from me. I know Lance feels it deep in him for he screams out, “Yes! Fill me! Give it to me.” And that releases the flood gates and my cum runs from me like a warm river. I grasp Lance’s buttocks and pull him tight against me, holding still and flooding him. Beneath me, his blue grey eyes are filled with tears, his face full of emotion and release. Over and over again I pour my need into him. My mind, my being swirls around the cosmos. The feeling of loss of self goes on and on. 

Eventually my spasms subside. I lean to kiss his neck, his perfect lips, his eyes; tasting the sweet salt of his tears. Rapidly softening, my manhood slips from him with a wet sound. I ease his legs down flat on the bed, lay my heavy length upon him, cover his form with kisses. Eventually he speaks. 

“Thank you, Jeff. Thank you so much. Ever since that night, that first night. Well when you touched me ‘there’, put your finger in me, I went home thinking about having you inside me. I mean, I’ve thought about it before in a sort of vague unconnected way. But after that night, it kept coming back to me. You know, I was so reluctant, so worried it might make me ‘gay’ or something. And I was so afraid it would hurt. But there is something about you, about you and me. ‘Cuz ever since we met it’s like all I can think about is letting you have me, take me. I was feeling twinges back there all that first night. I lost that pool game on purpose you know. I wanted it, wanted to be with you. But I couldn’t admit it to myself, couldn’t face up to really wanting another man, not really. I’ve been thinking about it all week, up and down, back and forth, yes and no. Finally I decided I wouldn’t be thinking about it at all if I didn’t really want it. And you are so good, so fine. I feel safe with you. I decided I wanted to give myself to you, totally, completely, no matter what. I wanted you to have me, take me, possess me.”

“Are you okay? Was it okay? Did I hurt you, I’m afraid I wasn’t very gentle.”

“You were fine, perfect.” He snuggles back against me and wriggles his little butt against me. It kind of surprised me. I mean, it hurt like hell, I wasn’t expecting that. But I was determined to see it through, to let you ‘take’ me. In some strange way, that’s what I wanted. To be possessed by you, taken, pierced, used. And then the pain turned into a fire that spread all through me. The feeling of total surrender, of letting myself go completely is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. And the physical feelings. Once I abandoned myself completely to your will, a strange thing happened. I was able to feel, to really feel and what you, uh, your cock did inside me was so incredible.”

“But you didn’t even cum.”

“Oh I cummed all right deep wracking orgasm through my whole body, my whole being. All my life I’ve been fucking girls and cumming. But not really. Just a second or two of quick ejaculation. This was so much more than that. Can I tell you something?”

“Anything buddy. Truly anything.”

“Promise you won’t laugh or put me down?”

“Of course I promise. You can trust me.”

“I, er, uh. . . Oh what the fuck! I think I am in love with you. I mean it. Like I’ve never felt before. I’ve wanted to possess others, girls, but I’ve never wanted to be possessed before, never wanted to belong to anyone. But I do now. I want to be yours if you’ll have me. . . “

I think a long, long time before answering. I know I have strong feelings for Lance. A deep abiding desire. But It has been years since I was true, wanted to be true, to anyone. Could I love this lad? Be connected, committed to him? And what about women? “Lance, does this mean that you have given up on women? What about your fear of ‘gayness’. What are you asking for? Love? Commitment? What?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure. I’m not sure of anything. Except I know I’ve never felt this way before. When you were, while you were, uh, inside me I felt right, good, whole. Like I was meant, born to be possessed by you. Is that? Does that? I mean, maybe I’ve always been gay and never known it except in some sort of shadowy, fantasy way. 

“I’ll tell you what Lance. Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll make a promise to you. For right now, for however long it lasts, I’ll commit myself to no other man but you. I can’t promise you I’ll give up women, but for now, I’ll give up all other men for you. Hell, you may find that you want to experience other guys, now that you’ve found “another you’ inside. But I’ll give it a try, see if it works. And I will demand nothing of you, nothing whatever. We need to both think about this for a while before we jump off the deep end. And you need to find out how you still feel about women. Maybe you want to ‘possess’ and ‘be possessed’. What d’ya say?”

“How soon can I move in,” this gorgeous young hunk says to me, grinning widely, that smile that makes my heart ache. And my groin too.

“How about today?”