Date: Wed, 13 Feb 2019 09:29:30 -0800
From: JF
Subject: Michael and I, part 1

Michael and I, part 1
by Jim Foster

The bus lurched forward on ancient wheels, its frame creaking and groaning
as we headed west across the city. They always used the old-model electric
buses for the midday routes, probably because they carried fewer passengers
and, if one broke down, would inconvenience fewer people. The bus I was on
was probably making good time, given the noon-hour traffic and narrow
streets. But with my heart fluttering and my stomach tense, to me it felt
like we were barely inching along.

I'm never going to make it to Michael and Nate's, I thought.

Instantaneously, I felt a pang of guilt mixed with a pulse of pleasure. I
was going to Michael and Nate's house, but Nate wouldn't be there. Just
Michael... Michael and I.

I didn't want my time with Michael to be rushed. Officially, I only had my
lunch hour free. But, I'd managed to slip out of work about 15 minutes
early. Heading back, I could also probably be about 10 minutes late before
anyone noticed. So, we had a little over an hour to be together. I'd
immediately caught a bus outside of the lab where I work, and I figured the
ride would take at least 10 minutes to get to my stop. But so far, it was
taking 15. The delay made me more nervous, largely because it compounded
the sense of anticipation that I'd been keeping locked up inside of me.

After all, Michael and I had been talking about this for more than a
year. And now, we were finally acting.

Michael works for a tech company out in the suburbs. But he and his husband
live relatively close to my lab, just one creaking midday bus ride away.
Late last week, Michael let me know that, due to some renovations at his
office, he'd be working from home the coming week.

"Maybe you could come over during your lunch hour on Monday," he had texted
me.

I sent a two-word reply: "I will."

Michael and I had met through his husband. Over the years, I'd gotten to
know them pretty well. We were all gay nerds who worked too much and worked
out too little. We would get together occasionally, sometimes with my
boyfriend Kent, and talk about politics, science fiction, books, life. At
some point, Nate, the more extroverted of the pair, hinted that he and
Michael were attracted to me and wouldn't mind having a threeway with
me. I'd been flattered, and more than a bit interested. But Kent and I had
been going through a rough patch at the time, and I wanted to devote my
attention to my relationship with him. Nate and Michael understood, and we
left it at that.

But over the years, through texts and occasional gettogethers, Michael and
I had gotten to know each other better and better. We discovered a
connection, which developed quickly into a spark.

The driver interrupted my reminiscence about Michael.

"Quarry Street," she said. "Next stop, Quarry Street."

I pulled the cord and grabbed my coat and bag. My heart was pounding.

I was the only passenger to get off at Quarry Street. I looked around. It
was an overcast day and cool, typical for early autumn. I was cold, but I
didn't put my coat on. I was too anxious to get there, see Michael and let
this happen.

I crossed Quarry Street and walked two blocks into the neighborhood.
Michael and Nate (there's that pang again, as well as that pulse of
pleasure) lived in a dark blue house halfway down the third block. I hadn't
been to their place in about a year, but not for a lack of invitations. I'd
started coming over less when Michael and I started to feel more of a
connection.

Their front yard sported a newly raked pile of leaves. Lights to the living
room were on.

As I rang the doorbell, I realized my hand was shaking.

I felt myself being scrutinized through the peephole. I heard the deadbolt
being unlatched. The door swung open, and there stood Michael in a white
bathrobe. His lips curled into a smile, and his brown eyes glistened.

"Hey," he said.

I swallowed hard.

"Hey," said in reply.

Michael was a few inches taller than me, with a long face, broad shoulders
and pale skin. He had red hair, something I always loved about him. We were
both in decent shape for guys who spent most of our days at work and most
of our evenings at home, but still working. He'd just turned 40, while I
was a week away from my 38th birthday.

We stared at one another momentarily, almost unsure of what to do. Then
Michael, shaking himself out of it, placed one arm on my shoulder.

"Why don't you come in, Jason?" he said.

I couldn't be sure, but it almost felt like his grip trembled a bit as he
guided me inside and shut the door behind us.

In the entry way, I set my bag and coat down. I gazed up at him and we
embraced.

"Thanks for inviting me over," I offered.

"Thanks for coming over, Jason," he said. "I'm really glad you're here."

"Me too," I said. "But is it okay to admit that I'm nervous?"

"Yeah. I am too."

Michael offered me water and I accepted. We walked into the living room and
sat down on opposite ends of their sofa, with an empty cushion between
us. I held the water but didn't drink it.

For a few moments, we talked around our agenda.

"Did you have any trouble getting here?"

"Bus took forever, or at least it felt like forever. But other than that,
no problems. Are you enjoying working from home?"

"Yeah, though to be honest I didn't get much work done this morning. I was
too distracted."

"Yeah. Me too."

With that, I set the water glass down and reached out with my left hand,
taking Michael's right. I drew his body toward mine into an awkward
sideways embrace. His head rested on my shoulder, and he wrapped both arms
around my torso. I rested one hand on his shoulder, and stroked his face
with my other hand.

For a few moments, we were silent. Then I turned my head to look into his
eyes and lowered my lips to his. We kissed gently, slowly, softly. Once,
twice, then three times. The fourth time, I opened my mouth and licked his
lips. Michael to open his mouth as well. I suddenly realized that my
stomach was no longer tight. I was no longer nervous. Nor was he.

Michael withdrew his hands and sat upright, moving his leg up against
mine. He held my face in his hands, stroking my beard with his thumbs.

"You are so beautiful, Jason," he purred. "You get me so hot."

"So do you," I replied, kissing the tip of his nose.

"Here," said Michael, standing up. Turning to face me, he untied his
bathrobe and let it fall to the floor.

With a whimper, I took in the scene. Michael was wearing only a white jock
strap with a green waistband. His chest was mostly hairless, but below his
belly button he had a treasure trail of red body hair that led to a thick
nest of pubic hair. Whether on purpose or as a consequence of his engorged
cock, his jock strap rested low, with the waistband positioned at the base
of his cock and his pubes poking out above.

Michael breathed deeply. Looking up, I could see that he was flushed. He
was so beautiful.

I wanted to put my hands all over him. I wanted our bodies together.

Heart pounding, I stood up and kissed him roughly, putting one hand on the
back of his neck and drawing our faces together. My other hand reached
around and stroked the small of his back. Through our kiss, Michael
moaned. Then I let my hand travel down his back and felt his ass. Michael
embraced me, running his hands along my back.

Awkwardly and eagerly, I kicked off my shoes and tried to pull off my socks
using my toes. It didn't work, and our embrace faltered. Stumbling, I broke
our kiss and Michael laughed. I smiled and thought to myself how natural
this felt... us together.

I reached down and removed one sock, and then the other. As I raised myself
back up, Michael put his hands at the base of my hips and lifted up my
sweater. My arms went up, and we laughed our way through the awkward task
of getting my head out of my sweater without damaging my glasses. I removed
my undershirt myself and stood bare-chested in front of him.

"Much better," Michael said, running his hands along my chest. With one
finger, he drew an outline around one of my nipples.

As I unbuckled my belt and unzipped my pants, I stood on my tip-toes and
kissed Michael deeply. I was being as unceremonious as he had been moments
ago. All I wanted to do was to stand before Michael wearing as little as
possible. With one quick gesture, I lowered my pants and underwear and
kicked them behind us.

Michael stepped back to take in my naked body. Like him, I didn't have much
chest hair. What little I had, however, was black. My dark pubes contrasted
with my pale skin and hard, 7.5 inch cock. The look of amazement on
Michael's face aroused me even more. I grabbed my cock and gave it a few
playful strokes, rubbing precum along the shaft and making the head
engorged and dark red.

"You like?" I asked.

"No," he said. "I love it."

I stopped stroking and felt myself blush. Then Michael reached down and
tenderly stroked my balls. He ran the back of his hand up the underside of
my hard cock. Reaching the tip, he rubbed my slit, collecting some of my
precum on the tip of his finger. He raised that finger to my lips and I
took it into my mouth.

I closed my eyes momentarily. When I opened them and released his finger, I
saw Michael grinning widely.

He reached down, grabbed my cock with one hand and guided me into their
bedroom.

"This is what I do to Nate when I want him to fuck me," he said.

At the mention of Nate, my cock twitched violently and I shuddered with
pleasure. Had Michael's hand been pumping my cock, I would've shot my load
right there in the doorway to their bedroom. Michael must have felt the
pulse through his hand. He looked over his shoulder and gave me a knowing
smile.

"Yeah, I noticed that," said Michael. "You like that we're cheating, don't
you?"

I stopped walking and touched his shoulder. Michael turned to face me and
we kissed again. Pulling back, I smiled.

"Yeah, I do," I said, feeling simultaneously embarrassed and bold. "I don't
know why I like it. But I'm so glad we're together."

"Me too," said Michael. "I love that you're a cheater."

"I am with you, at least," I said.

We were nearly to their queen-size bed. Michael turned and crawled into the
center of the bed, posing on all fours. He rocked his hips to open his
cheeks, giving me my first clear glimpse of his hole with its light dusting
of red hair.

I needed no invitation. I crawled onto the bed, arching my back so I could
wrap my body over Michael's in an embrace. I slid my cock up against his
hole, feeling his ass wrap around my shaft. Michael moaned as I kissed his
back. I ran one hand down his chest, feeling the hair thicken as my hand
drew closer to the line of pubic hair and the waistband of his jock
strap. I slid my hand under the waistband, found his cock, and gave it a
few generous strokes. His shaft had already been lubed up with pre-cum.

"Mmmmm, Jason... that's it," said Michael. "Now get me ready for your big
cock."

I felt Michael reach toward the pillows with one arm. I looked up and saw
that he was fetching a bottle of lube he'd left at the head of the
bed. Wordlessly, he passed it over to me. I situated myself on my knees
behind Michael and applied lube to my hands and his hole.

Michael moaned. I ran my fingers around the edge of his hole, teasing
him. He lowered himself onto his elbows and breathed deeply. Almost
unconsciously, I inserted a finger.

"Damn, Michael," I said. "You're nice and tight."

"Yeah, I need a man like you to open me up," he said.

I silently pumped my finger into him for about a minute as he loosened up
and relaxed. Outside, birds chirped. From a yard down the street came the
familiar hum of a lawnmower. I slipped in a second finger and continued
pumping, mixing the wetted sounds of our carnality with the neighborhood's
everyday symphony. Michael's breath was deep and low, mine high and
shallow.

"Open me more," grunted Michael. "Open my ass for your cheating cock."

In a trance, I inserted a third finger. He moaned and buried his face in
the covers. I placed my free hand along Michael's back. His whole body
seemed flushed and sweaty.

"Oh God, Jason! I can't stand it anymore," he shouted. "Give me your cock."

Wordlessly, I withdrew my fingers and lubed up my cock. I positioned myself
right behind Michael, hands on his hips. I closed my eyes as I entered him,
listening to Michael squeal and grunt with delight. I opened my eyes and
looked down. My cock was fully inside him, Michael's pale ass up against my
black pubes.

My breath was so shallow that I was afraid of cumming too quickly. I slowed
down, drawing down my breathing rate and focusing my mind on the sensations
of our bodies together: his warmth against my cock, hips and thighs; the
pulses of his breath gently rocking through his hips; the musky scent of
his sweat spreading through the room; the sight of his torso heaving with
each breath. He reached back with one hand, placing it on top of mine.

With the birds singing and lawnmower buzzing, I began to fuck him. We
started slow, wordlessly building up a rhythm and intensity. My impromptu
breathing exercises kept me from shooting my load and helped me build up
speed.

Michael raised himself up on all fours again. He looked back at me over his
shoulder. His face was flushed deep red, like his hair. His eyes were half
closed and mouth hung open. He was focused on every inch of my cock,
pumping in and out of him.

"Fuck me," he sighed. "Fuck me..."

It was all he could say for the next few minutes. I slowly built myself up
to a climax, but I didn't want to shoot yet. Nearing the point of no
return, I slowed and reluctantly pulled out of him.

"Turn over," I said, rubbing his ass. "On your back."

Michael rolled onto his back and raised his legs, resting them up against
my shoulders. He placed his arms behind his head, giving me a gorgeous view
of the thick red hair of his armpits. Wet with sweat, their scent deepened
the sexual energy of the room.

I guided my cock back into Michael's ass, and lowered his legs around my
torso so I could lean in and over him. This time, my thrusts were rougher
and faster. Michael let out a gasp or grunt with each pulse from my cock.

"That's it babe," he said. "Give it to me."

Leaning down, I licked sweat off of his torso and teased his nipples with
my tongue. Reaching down, I freed his hard cock from the pouch of his
jockstrap, adding lube and pumping it with my hand. If I was going to cum
soon, so was he.

We locked eyes. I took my hand off Michael's cock so I could support my
frame with both arms. I leaned down and made out with him. Our tongues met
first, licking and dancing with one another with our mouths open. I thought
of what Nate would see if he walked in, or one of our friends. The fantasy
brought me closer to the edge like nothing else.

There was no turning back. This was happening.

"Oh God, Michael," I gasped. "I'm gonna cum."

"Give me your load, Jason," said Michael, as he reached down and jerked his
cock.

I felt my cock stiffen and I slowed my thrusts to a crawl. Michael leaned
up and kissed me deeply. Trembling and suddenly covered in sweat, I shot my
load deep inside of him. Michael's breathing rose rapidly into shallow
gasps. His body tensed and I felt and smelled his warm wet load hitting my
stomach. Looking down, I saw that Michael was shooting rope after rope of
semen all over his chest and stomach. The first few volleys had hit me.

I love cum. I lowered my chest onto his and pressed our bodies together. My
cock was softening, but I stayed inside of him a few more moments as we
made out with our arms wrapped around each other.

My cock, warm and wet, slipped out of his ass. We rolled to our sides and
stared at each another.

"Hey Michael," I said.

"Hey Jason," he replied.

We stared at each other for a few more minutes.

"How're you feeling?" I asked.

"Wonderful. That was amazing."

"I'm glad."

"You?"

I anticipated his question, but didn't have an easy response. I felt warm
and sexy and, in a way, loved. I also felt a little worried. I felt a
little guilty about what we'd done, particularly since I'd gotten off on
thinking of myself as a cheater. I wanted to know whether he was okay, and
if we were okay.

"I feel good, really good," I said. "And loved. What we did was
wonderful. How do you feel about it?"

Michael paused. He seemed deep in thought.

"A mixture of feelings," he said after a few moments. "We're a pair, you
and I. I loved this. But I also have Jay, and you have Kent."

He paused again.

"I don't know what to do about that reality right now," he said. "But to be
honest, I don't really want to do anything with that reality right now."

"Me neither," I said, rubbing his cum-covered belly. "And if I can be
honest in return, I feel the same as you, but I also want to explore this
more."

"Me too," said Michael.

I leaned down and began to kiss his chest and belly, getting his sticky
load all over my lips and beard. Sighing, Michael rolled over onto his back
and put his arms behind his head again. The room stank of sweat and
semen. His cock, now half hard, lay outside the jockstrap. I gently removed
the strap, tossed it to the floor and took his cock in my mouth.

"Careful," he said. "I'm sensitive."

I was gentle, cleaning the cum off of his cock.

"I wish you could stay," Michael said. "In a few hours, I'll be ready to go
again."

I pulled off of his cock. My mouth tasted like his load. I realized that I
would keep the taste of his seed in me for the rest of the day. A wave of
pleasure washed over my body.

"I wish I could stay, too," I said, glancing at the bedside clock. "But, I
need to go soon. Could I shower quickly before heading back?"

"Of course," he said. "I'll get the sheets in the laundry while you get
cleaned up."

I looked across the bed, at the cum and lube and sweat all over the
sheets. Outside, the birds were still chirping. The lawnmower had stopped.

I felt the cum on my face and belly. Swallowing hard, I savored the taste
of his load in my mouth.

"Hey, you're still working from home for the rest of the week, right?" I
asked. "So, how about round two tomorrow?"

"I'd love that, Jason," said Michael, beaming. "Let's do it!"