Infuriating Dilemma - 1

© Copyright 2008 Tristan Jaimes

"Fuck off you cunt", or words to that effect, were the first words he ever said to me.

Not the most promising start I grant you, especially when you've just given someone an innocent compliment. Rude. Impolite. Arrogant. What an asshole! I guess that's why later, I wanted to get to know him, you know, know him.

My stomach felt like it was tied up in knots, my entire body had that dull ache I'd become used to every time I saw him logged into chat. It infuriated me that he always left the status showing as 'Away' whether or not he was there. I'd called him out on it once, sarcastically, and was pleased I got a reaction out of him because usually he maintains a veil of indifference that makes it so hard to connect with him other than superficially. Unfortunately it didn't change his ways, and that was over a year before, but it was one of many things that forced me to suffer in an agony of silence.

He infuriated me in so many ways. He could be so infuriatingly... infuriating! Arrgggh -- he made me want to scream!

Ever since I realised I liked him, I mean really liked him, you know, that way, I'd tried everything to wean myself off the attraction but the more time passed the worse it had got.

It made me so angry with myself too, that despite my usual self-control I couldn't rid myself of those feelings; feelings for him. They left me feeling so... disrupted. Some days I couldn't focus on work or anything because my imagination got carried away with a whole bunch of dreams about him. They weren't those kind of dreams either. No, they were always about sharing time with him doing something really intense or surprising, living life with him, protecting him, easing his path through life. Oh, don't get me wrong, he featured regularly in my more erotic fantasies too, but let's not go there, not right now at least, else I'll get sidetracked.

I liked it that he continued to surprise me even after three years of knowing him. It's probably part of why I was so into him, because I can read most people within a few weeks but with him, although I could penetrate his defences at times, even to the point of making him uncomfortable with how acute my observations were, it felt to me like I was treading on the shifting sands of a dune; in a week or two they'd have a completely different shape and my footprints would have been blown away by the winds of change. That scared me - still does, too.

And so at this point I'd been denying myself contact with him for what seemed like forever and it hurt, every day I ached but I kept on denying myself because I was sure the other feelings, the intense longing I had for him, would only get worse if I dabbled on the edges.

I was still trying to get over our last meeting when he'd blown my mind, and something else too, if you get my drift.

I think we'd chatted maybe three times in the seven months since I'd last seen him. It had helped that I'd been travelling and not been on-line much part of that time, but the knowledge that coupled with my deep feelings for him and the physical attraction, we could have, and had had, a physical aspect that scared me because the only thing preventing things going any further, apart from his resistance, was my fear of how a relationship with him could never work.

And in denying myself contact, I was also scared that I'd sent him the message that after our sublime physical intimacy I was no longer interested, almost as if I'd tossed him aside, and that scared me even more. I just wanted to sit down and tell him how I felt but now it seemed like there was too much water under the bridge and, I guess deep down and despite all my self-confidence, I was scared I thought the result would be rejection.

Maybe I was denying myself because at least in that, there was some hope that it could work, that he might say 'Yes'.


It had all begun one November three years before with those words, you know, "Fuck off you cunt". In fact, I remember realising, as I looked at his perennial 'Away' status and wondered if he was there or not, and whether I should send him a message, that it was just over three years to the day. So many lost opportunities. It just reinforced my sense of loss even though we'd never been anything to each other, not in a relationship way, anyhow, at that point.

All I'd done was see his chat-room profile page and felt instinctively there was something different about him. Subtle hints of real intelligence and a sense that he had an astute appreciation of the world, hidden amongst the dross of formalised statistics. To me, and I'm highly attuned to such things, it marked him out, or at least his profile, as special and I love getting to know special people. They add something thrilling to my life -- they're like an addiction to me. I always make a point of complimenting people if they give me that buzz -- encouragement, if you like.

So, like I said, I'd paid him a compliment. Just a short message sent to his profile in-box saying something along the lines of how good it was to find an original and intriguing profile. And the reply, when it came, had made me so angry. What was with this rude piece of shit, talking to a total stranger in that way? Anyhow I left it and moved on, put it out of my mind and made a mental note that if I ever bumped into him face to face I'd have words with him.

Not long after that I met Tom for the first time. It was early December. I was fidgety and hyper and wanted to do something spontaneous and different. So I'd got chatting to Gaz and between us we decided, totally randomly, that a trip to London for the night would be cool. We gave ourselves some kind of ridiculous mission too, I think it was to find ten cops, ask them directions to Buckingham Palace, and kiss any cute ones!

Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but we sure have had some fun with those kinds of missions. We never did kiss the cops, we didn't have the bottle when it came to it, but that didn't stop the joshing and thrill of the chase.

Anyway, Gaz and I were on-line in the chat rooms putting shouts out for anyone who was interested in a random mission to London. You'd think, with so many people there, that you'd find a few that weren't boring bastards wouldn't you? OK, so it was 11pm and we wouldn't be seeing London until maybe 4am but, come on, it sounds like fun, right?

So we were getting to the point where we were just gonna go on our own when this guy, Tom, sent me a message saying 'Hi' and asking about the mission. I explained it best I could, probably confused him no end, and told him who Gaz was because he was concerned we were total strangers to him. He said he wanted to get out the house and although it sounded mad, he was up for it. Alright, we have a winner!

In the meantime Gaz found another guy who was up for it, Ronnie I think his name was, and we made all the arrangements for me and Gaz to pick them up. Thank goodness for sat-nav!

We had a great time. The trip down was a riot and when we pulled into a service area for refreshments Gaz and me were scoping out the talent. Tom was so shocked at how blatant we were - it was so cute. The mission was, as expected, totally random, including a walk around the 'condom' building and also the plaza in front of the London Eye where all the trees were lit with beautiful blue LEDs. I remember being fascinated when Tom told me how he is partially colour-blind and that this blue was his favourite colour. We had something in common, because certain shades of mellow or vivid blue are my favourite colours, too.

So that's how I met Tom. Somehow Tom and me clicked after that escapade and became fast friends. Don't know what happened to Ronnie; didn't see him again.

Tom was in his second year at university majoring in computer science although in his freshman (first educational) year since he'd had some problems the previous year and had to restart his studies. He shared house with two other guys, one of which was his best mate.

So after Tom got back from the winter break we were chatting on-line and he invited me round to his place. I think we had plans to go out somewhere after, too.

When I got there he was playing some game on the computer with his house-mate so I had followed him up to his bedroom. There was stuff all over the floor but Tom just bounced over onto his bed in the corner. His house-mate was sat on one of those really uncomfortable plastic chairs concentrating on the screen, his back to me.

"I don't think you two know each other. Tristan, Adam. Adam, Tristan", Tom said.

"Hi", said Adam, turning briefly to flash me a smile before turning back to the game to maintain his concentration.

I still remember the shock of recognition I felt when his face turned towards me. It was him - the bastard that had so rudely dismissed me! Immediately I felt a rush as I realised there was an opportunity for some divine retribution here.

"Yeah, we've kinda met before", I said, coolly.

Tom had a surprised look on his face. "Oh?" he said, turning a quizzical look towards Adam.

Adam turned again to look at me, a frown on his face as he tried to place me.

"Yeah," I continued, "I sent him a message complimenting him on his profile and he told me to 'fuck off'", I replied, with an evil glint in my eye as I held eye contact with Adam.

A blush hit Adam's face instantly at that, and he turned away from me quickly as Tom laughingly said, "Yeah, that sounds like Adam!"

Tom and I laughed at Adam's obvious embarrassment and discomfort as he maintained his focus on the screen. I noticed his shoulders were drawing in as he tried to make himself as small as possible.

Adam claimed not to remember the incident, which kind-of made me feel better since he hadn't been singling me out for special abuse, but I played on it quite a bit in the subsequent conversations we had that evening. I was being sarcastic and taking every opportunity to make fun of Adam, to the point where I actually started feeling sorry for him -- although not quite sorry enough to leave off the jibes. I have one of those razor-sharp wits that seems to have the responses out of my mouth before I've engaged my brain, and that night they were barbed and sticking into Adam.

Anyhow, I guess Tom and I must have gone out and I didn't think too much more about Adam except to savour the satisfaction I felt of having got retribution.

Tom and me were spending more time hanging out as our friendship rapidly developed, and because of that I was spending a lot of time at his house. Tom and Adam always spent a lot of time hanging out together too. I'm not sure how it happened now, but we quickly evolved into an almost inseparable gang of three and I do remember that we were having some really great times together.

The funny thing was that Adam and I began getting on really well, too, which I remember surprised me a lot, especially given the initial attitude. Before long we were spending time together, going out bowling, clubbing, drinking, and we seemed to click somehow. It was a comfortable and enjoyable friendship that was developing. I remember being surprised since I didn't really fit into his typical group of friends, but he'd drag me out night after night and we'd always have a good time. It also surprised me since we both have dominant personalities.

Tom and Adam were stereotypical students in many ways, not least the fact that they had no concept of cleaning or tidiness. Their bedroom floors were covered in discarded clothes, trash, books and papers, pizza boxes (often with uneaten remains), mugs with mould growing in them, and other stuff I'll draw a veil over.

The kitchen was worse; three slackers sharing a small badly designed kitchen with no work-tops, a table always overflowing with leftover half-eaten meals and packets and jars not returned to the refrigerator or cupboard, and a sink and drainer that were piled high with unwashed utensils.

I couldn't stand idly by, especially when they offered me drinks or if we'd occasionally order in pizza, so I got into the habit of washing everything up and tidying the kitchen every week or so just so I felt comfortable to eat with them. I also entertained a vague hope that I might shame them into cleaning up after themselves! We had a few boisterous conversations around my assertion that it is easy to keep a place clean if you always leave things the way you found them -- in other words, clean up every time you use the kitchen.

Looking back now I'm so glad I would take the camcorder out everywhere we went. I've had one of those small palm-sized digital video camcorders since 2000, upgrading as the models got smaller. I often enjoy reminiscing with the videos and photos of the adventures of Tom, Adam and me.

Looking back now it's hard to work out when I began having feelings for Adam. I do recall they sprang from my concern for the lifestyle he was leading. He seemed to be in a downward spiral of avoidance, running from things rather than dealing with them. It was obvious to Tom and me and we were both concerned and wanted to do something. The difference was, I think, that Tom had no idea what to do about it and was also enthralled to some extent by Adam, seeing him in some ways as a role model, whereas I recognised the signs and knew ways to deal with the causes.

I was getting concerned about Tom since he was getting into doing drugs with Adam more and more, and as I'd grown to care for Tom I could see they weren't helping him. I was able to talk about them to Tom and I knew that he was following Adam's example, being egged on by peer pressure, and he didn't have the self-confidence at that point to say no to Adam although with some encouragement from me he soon learned to and I was really proud of him.

In discussing the whys of Tom's drug taking with him it was quickly apparent that Adam was the primary cause, and as we talked further I picked up bits from Tom that clued me in on Adam and some of the reasons he was doing drugs and alcohol so much. It was a form of escapism, if only for a few hours each day, from the stresses of his life.

Adam was rarely attending classes and ignoring calls and letters from his parents. At one point I got Tom motivated to clean the house since the living room was a mess of discarded trash, unwashed glasses, papers all over the floor and worse, and there was always a huge mound of unopened mail behind the front door. In sorting our way through that pile of mail we quickly realised Adam had been avoiding important stuff for months.

I began observing Adam more closely then, trying to piece together a picture of the extent of, and reasons for, his situation, and whether I could identify any buttons to press to help him deal with things. It quickly became obvious that there was a world of hurt inside Adam that he was keeping under lock and key, and the stresses of living with it were the primary reason for the external signs of avoidance.

Adam knew what he wanted, and he'd go out and get it. Mostly he wanted to get high, either on alcohol or drugs. He could be very obstinate and annoyingly frustrating at times, too. It was clear to me he was feeling isolated and alone, thinking that his feelings were unique, and he had no one to help him deal with them and was scared to reveal them anyway.

It caused a twist in my gut when I thought of what he was dealing with.

Instinct and experience told me the thing Adam needed most was an authority figure and role model in his life. Someone that wouldn't take any of his shit and had the mental strength to deal with him. And that was the problem, because Adam could be one pig-headed prick at times.

If he didn't get his way he could get very petulant to the point of stamping his foot in frustration, and even now he still has alarming and unexpected bursts of temper over what seem to others to be trivial things. I often think it is because he sets his heart on something, and can't deal with the feelings of failure if things don't go to plan.

To be honest it worried me a lot, back then. Tom didn't have the mental strength it'd take to deal with Adam, although he ached to do something to help. Tom and me discussed the situation endlessly, trying to find a way to help Adam without setting off his defensive measures.

Our discussions, based on my instinctive observations and Tom's familiarity with Adam, kept returning to the fact that he needed an authority figure in his life. The problem was, a friend can't take on that role, it just doesn't work. The only way we could see it working was from Adam's parents, or a boyfriend.

We obviously didn't want to go behind Adam's back to discuss this with his parents, especially as it was pretty clear that some issue between Adam and them was part of the reason for his situation. We didn't see how we could do anything about getting him a boyfriend that would be able or willing to take on the stresses of handling Adam, either. You could say we were in a dilemma over it.

It was strange at the time, I remember, because the more I discovered about Adam the more I cared about him. You'd think that the more issues I discovered the more wary I'd be about getting involved but instead, I began to feel this overwhelming need to make things right for him, or at least better than they were at the time.

What I did know was, I was one person I knew with the mental and emotional strength to deal with Adam and give him what he needed, but I couldn't see how I could get involved.

At some point I'd somehow managed to get Adam to talk to me about his feelings about himself and life. It wasn't face to face since I knew Adam had a problem handling that, and he'd just get argumentative and try to run away, and I didn't think physical restraint was going to help him any!

So, we'd get into late-night on-line chats that'd usually start after midnight and carry on for hours. I knew there was no point in asking him questions because he'd always give superficial answers and try to avoid or ignore the issue, but I thought that I could get through to him if I made him realise he wasn't alone in the feelings he had.

I'd probe the surface until I got him talking a bit, and then as I probed deeper and he resisted, instead of asking him questions I'd talk about similar experiences and feelings from my own life. He'd say things to me like, "You wouldn't understand." and I'd relate something of my own that seemed similar. I remember feeling a great sense of achievement when Adam would reply with a realisation that, in fact, I did know how he felt, as he saw his own situation in my experiences and, as time went on, saw that I could actually predict the way he felt about things. I suspect that, more than anything else, is what unlocked some of the deeper stuff we shared.

I was totally open with him about my own emotions and hopes and fears, and about the bouts of self-doubt I had on occasion. I'd also describe to him how I developed a way to analyse and deal with my issues in a positive way. In this way we managed to have some really good bonding sessions which I've cherished ever since.

It got to the point where he would open up with me about his insecurities and fears, and before long he admitted how he ached to have someone loving and caring and romantic in his life but at the same time he knew his own behaviour and attitude to others (the way he'd responded to me, for example) drove likely candidates away.

The more I heard, the more my heart went out to him. It was painful knowing that on just the other side of those formidable barriers he put up, there was this sweet caring thoughtful scared young guy who wanted nothing much more than to have someone to trust and share his feelings with.

I had to press hard and not let up to breach those mental and emotional barriers, and it took a lot out of me to deal with it and not take his resistance and rebuffs personally.

This is what I meant about having the mental and emotional strength to deal with him. When you care about someone, as I did by then about Adam, it can be very emotionally draining to deal with and not let your own life be affected by it.

It helped to draw us closer together. I noticed he wanted to spend more time around me, and when we did spend time together, we always had a lot of fun. It became apparent that in a lot of ways we had similar outlooks on life, from our frustration with political correctness gone mad and the lack of common sense illustrated by so many news stories, to how pedantic we both are over correct spelling and grammar, even in chat messages. We're not the type to adopt ridiculous SMS abbreviations and slang; we prefer to enjoy the riches of using language to the greatest extent possible.

Somewhat as a result of our growing closeness, I began to discuss with Tom a possible way to get through to Adam. Without being too specific I let Tom know how I'd managed to get through to Adam and have some deep conversations with him, and thought I saw a way in. Tom was fascinated to know how I'd managed to breach Adam's defences. Strangely, I found it hard to explain to him.

I wondered aloud to Tom about the possibility of my asking Adam out. To begin with I think both of us saw it as a long shot but as time passed and I reported on more deep conversations with Adam, the more we began to think it would be worth a shot. My biggest misgiving wasn' t that he'd reject me, since I was confident in my ability to eventually breach his resistance, but in whether I had the strength after that to continue dealing with him as a partner.

And of course by then, it was no longer a good Samaritan thing for me, I was considering doing it because I was attracted to Adam on an emotional level. Of course there was a physical attraction too, and I'm coming to that now.

We had several really good bonding sessions during that period, one of which was the catalyst for my physical attraction to Adam. Tom and Adam had come over to my place for the night and we were planning on playing one of those strip drinking games, you know, where you spin the pointer and then drink shots or do forfeits -- in this case, removing or putting on items of clothing.

I think Adam and me were secretly looking forward to the thrill but we had to persuade Tom to play since he was very reticent about getting naked. I think originally we had to promise Tom we'd stop at the underwear stage, but once he had a few drinks inside him he soon forgot about that!

So, we were sat in a triangle on the wood floor in the den around the plastic game-holder with six shot glasses in it. Adam was sat directly across from me and Tom was to my right -- Adam's left. I think we started off with a bottle of Archers, and during the course of the night we also managed to get through a bottle of vodka, most of a bottle of rum, and about seven bottles of wine.

It doesn't take long for Tom to get plenty drunk - usually half a bottle of 'Hippo' wine is enough (Hippo was a supermarket brand of cheap but strong wine he used pre-party to get drunk quickly without spending a huge amount). He also gets sick easily and on most nights when we drank he'd end it puking in the bathroom.

Adam is a pretty seasoned drinker and although he doesn't exhibit as much loss of coordination or speech, or get sick like Tom does, he usually can't remember much, which explains a lot about why he drinks.

I can drink a lot before it affects me badly. I get a buzz on eventually but my thoughts are still clear and I'm aware of myself and any loss of coordination or slurring of speech and can usually control it. It feels kind-of strange, like there's a second -- sober -- person inside me, able to observe the whole getting drunk thing without being affected.

The only time I ever got blind drunk was one night when we were out and someone spiked my drink. We didn't realise it had happened until the following day, and I only found out because I couldn't remember anything from midnight onwards when the guys told me I had been perfectly coherent. We looked at the video that Tom had recorded with my camcorder of us leaving the pub and going home where I was still coherent although slightly wobbly on my feet. We had gone back to Tom and Adam's place and apparently Adam looked after me whilst I'd been puking up in the bath and then he put me in his bed and slept downstairs on the sofa. I was really touched by that, by the way it demonstrated another side of him that wasn't always so apparent; his caring nature. Little things like that made me want to know him better.

Anyhow, back to the drinking game. We started off with the spirits and it wasn't long before clothes were coming off. Off of Tom and Adam anyway. It was looking like the game was rigged and I was not only still fully dressed, but I kept getting the option to put clothes on. I got kind-of indignant at that, it's not like I'm bad-looking or anything and I enjoy a bit of exhibitionism too, you know!

Tom was quickly both drunk and down to his boxers. Adam was a little better off but had lost his shirt and pants but had socks, boxers and tee-shirt. Adam's squeals of frustration each time I escaped a forfeit were just priceless, and alongside those was Tom's drunken but persistent proposals of just how I'd rigged the spinner. Tom gets so serious and considered when he's drunk that it makes us crack up laughing!

Even I was getting frustrated at the damned spinner, I mean, it's no fun, no thrill, unless you're trying to avoid getting naked. Eventually I'd had enough of it so Tom and me investigated the spinner using our combined semi-drunken engineering talents. We eventually decided the solution was to rotate the entire game holder through ninety degrees after each spin so that at least the effects of the rigging were shared evenly!

With that done the game got a little more entertaining and there was a rising anticipation amongst all of us as my clothes started coming off.

As Adam continued to lose clothes I found myself observing him more, and enjoying what was revealed. His strong jawline, neck and shoulders leading down to a relatively hairy chest above two pert pink nipples, the triangle of fine dark-brown hair across his abdomen, all framed by his white skin, captivated me. I'd never thought of myself as being into hairy men, but it kind of grew on me, pardon the pun!

He was sat cross-legged so the muscles of his calves and thighs were prominent beneath their hairy coat. The contours of his feet were particularly intriguing and several times I resisted the urge to lean over and suck his toes. Good job really, since he thinks his feet are yucky for some strange reason.

Adam was quite a contrast compared to Tom, who has a natural tanned skin-tone and an upper body that is hairless except for a slight treasure-trail that starts half-way between his tummy-button and pubes. In contrast his legs are hairy and the almost-black colour makes them look hairier than Adam's.

As seemed inevitable, Tom ended up losing his boxers first, and it took some debating and persuasion before he decided to actually take them off. By now Adam only had his boxers remaining and I was down to just jeans and boxers.

Adam and me kept on stealing glances at Tom's crotch, and the smiles on our faces when we looked at each other proved we were enjoying the show. I think that by that time Tom was so drunk as not to notice although from time to time he'd come out with the most outrageous statements in that dead-pan, observational voice of his, that had us cracked up laughing.

Adam and me were flirting by this time, and I was getting impatient for Adam to lose his boxers. The anticipation was causing a tightening in my groin and I was getting worried I'd get hard and embarrass myself at some point later if I didn't get my reactions under control.

When Adam finally had to forfeit his boxers I couldn't help but stare when he stood up to drop them. He was being flirty with me, staring into my eyes as he wiggled his boxers off his ass and they fell to the floor. I was pretty sure from the way his cock looked slightly chubby as it hung low in front of his balls that he had been experiencing the same tightening in the groin that was now making a determined come-back with me. He stepped seductively out of the boxers and then lowered himself back into a cross-legged sitting position, using his hand to tuck his cock down.

We exchanged a couple of knowing smiles, whilst Tom giggled away and told Adam it was about time someone else got naked too.

I lost my jeans soon after that. I stood up and, following Adam's example, undid the buttons and then seductively shucked them down over my hips to reveal silky white snug-fitting boxers. Adam's eyes were trained on the invitingly bulging pouch and he darted a few looks at me as he pouted his lips.

Once the game resumed I got butterflies in my tummy as I anticipated losing my boxers. That tightness in my groin had become insistent and I was definitely getting chubby and starting to worry I'd get hard.

Adam wasn't helping by staring directly into my crotch and rubbing his legs. I noticed he was having similar problems to me, too, because he'd taken to keeping his left hand in his lap, palm down, and I was pretty sure it was to stop his cock from springing up.

I managed to last quite a while before I finally lost my boxers too. I'd managed to fight off the effort my hormones had been making to get me hard so I was somewhat provocative in the way I slipped my boxers over my thighs and let my cock wave about as I wiggled my hips. Adam was sat still, watching unblinking. As I lowered myself back to the floor I noticed his left hand giving a couple of tugs on his cock and I was glad my legs were crossed tight in front of me as my own cock gave a twitch in response.

We'd got plenty of wine left so the game continued. Now we had nothing left to take off we debated setting dares instead but somehow we ended up just taking an extra shot. We were all pretty drunk by that time, too.

There was one point where Adam spilt part of his drink on his knee. Without a moment's hesitation I had leaned across and was licking the wine from his knee and chasing it with my tongue down his calf and thigh. Adam squealed with delight and started clapping and shouting "Oh my god, that is excellent, that's fab!".

I leaned back and sat looking at him, surprised at how entertaining he thought it was since it seemed the obvious thing to do, to me. "Well, we don't want to waste any, do we?" I said.

After we'd calmed down the game continued until the last bottle was empty. By that time we'd all had a bit too much and knew it too; we were starting to feel it. Tom began complaining that he was feeling sick, in reply to which Adam and me were reminding him where the bathroom was and not to miss the bowl.

Tom decided to stop drinking and whilst he and I were debating, in that drunken way that takes forever, whether or not to end the game at that point, Adam decided the matter for us by drinking all five remaining shots whilst we were distracted.

I didn't realise until Tom said, in his indignant voice, "You can't do that!" as he stared accusingly at Adam.

I turned in time to see Adam slap the last glass back down into the container and smack his lips. "Course I can, and I did." he told us with a delightfully cheeky grin on his face.

We protested and chided him but there was nothing we could do so we left it. Adam decided he needed to smoke and, as he had to go outside to do that, dressed himself somewhat clumsily whilst Tom and me pulled on our boxers and left the rest of our clothes in a pile. Whilst Adam was outside we got into some random conversations until, out of the blue, Tom says "I want to give a blow job."

I looked at him, surprised. This was not the shy quiet reserved Tom I'd come to know and care for thus far. It seemed funny but I told him, no, he couldn't. He became more insistent the more I told him no and when pawing at my legs didn't get him the answer he wanted, he staggered to his feet and announced "Well then, I'm going to give Adam a blow job."

As he made his roundabout way towards the door I stood up and told him no again. He kept on insisting and trying to push past me so that I was having to push him back quite forcefully. It didn't help that at this point Adam returned to the room wondering what all the arguing was about.

Whilst Tom was insisting he was going to give someone a blow job, and I was holding him away from Adam and me with both hands, Adam had dropped his clothes so he was in boxers like Tom and me, and slid up behind me.

He wrapped his hands around my body and pulled up close and began nuzzling my neck. Well, you can imagine the effect that had on me! So I now had the task of fighting Tom off with one hand and Adam with the other, as well as stopping them getting to each other. I think I was fortunate that they were both so drunk and uncoordinated that I was able to contain them, but it was touch and go at times.

I told them both sternly it was bedtime and we needed to get some sleep, and sent Adam off to brush his teeth. With him out of the room Tom calmed down some, although he kept on whining about the blow-job. I took his hand and led him through to the bedroom and got him settled nearest the door, telling him "You're likely to be sick during the night so make sure you make it to the bathroom."

He closed his eyes and settled down almost immediately so I went back to the den to check things were mostly in order, although I left the clearing up until the morning. Adam came back into the den at that point so I headed into the bathroom to use the toilet and clean my teeth. I'd just finished when Adam opened the door and came in. I looked at him, thinking he needed something, but he kept on coming towards me until he wrapped his arms around my neck and pressed me back against the wall with his body and started kissing me. To say I was surprised is an understatement. Before I could fully collect my wits he had slid a hand down between us and was groping me through by boxers, which had me trying to twist away from him and push him away at the same time.

"Adam, stoppit!" I told him as I pushed him away to arm's length. He kept on trying to reach me but realised I was serious and let-up some, although his lips were pouting. Once he'd calmed down I persuaded him that we should go to bed and led him by the hand into the bedroom.

We looked at Tom, all but asleep, and then moved around the other side. I climbed in the middle with the idea of preventing those two drunken horny guys from doing something they'd regret when they sobered up.

Adam climbed in beside me and we got comfy. There was some idle chat before Tom announced that he might be sick soon. Then he started worrying he wouldn't find the bathroom so I sent him to the den to fetch a trash can to keep alongside the bed. He returned with a vivid blue plastic bucket. I asked him what he'd done with the rubbish that had been in it, and he seemed pleased with himself that he'd tipped it tidily in the corner. I sighed and thought about the mess that would await me in the morning.

With Tom back in bed we settled down. I was just relaxing when Adam rolled to face me and slipped a hand across to find my groin, and groped me again.

With Tom lying there besides me I was uncomfortable and had to keep on taking Adam's hand and placing it back on his part of the bed whilst telling him firmly, "No!"

When he realised I was serious he let off but then began nuzzling my shoulder and neck, sending shivers down my spine. I wasn't so bothered about that, and besides, if it'd keep him from trying to rape me (in the nicest sense of the word, mind!) I could live with it.

I wrapped my arm around his shoulders and pulled him into me and we lay there comfortably. His arm rested on my chest, fingers playing with my nipples, and for the most part he kept his hands away from my crotch.

The nuzzling progressed into kissing. He began with those sloppy hard and unfeeling kisses typical of drunks but I took control and soon we were exchanging prolonged sweet and tender kisses that made my lips feel they were on fire. Despite the dulling effects of all the drink the messages were getting through to my crotch too, with the inevitable consequences.

The kisses were electrifying, and seemed to sober me up too. I rolled to face him and we started caressing each other, me exploring the tightly curled hairs on his chest whilst he caused shivers down my spine as his fingers ran up and down it.

His tongue was demanding entry to my mouth but so far I'd managed to resist it. When his other hand came up to my face and he stroked my cheek and forehead I gave in, and soon the kisses became harder and more insistent as we probed each other deeper; and our tongues danced.

I'm not sure where it would have led to after that, but Tom chose that point to announce that he was going to be sick.

I quickly rolled over and away from Tom and was in time to see him lean over the side of the bed. I heard a wooden splattering sound that told me he'd missed the bucket and lent over him to reposition it before the next bout of retching.

There's nothing better than someone puking in bed next to you to make your ardour cool rapidly. I was rubbing Tom's back and talking to him, checking how he was, and making sure he swilled his mouth out with water from the glass at the bedside. A few minutes later Tom lay back and I was able to relax.

The bout of puking had woken him up somewhat and he started talking. It developed into a drunken three-way admission of feelings for each other that caused a few watery eyes and poignant swallows. I put my arms around both of them as they snuggled in close and we enjoyed half an hour of quiet confessions before Tom finally rolled over and went to sleep.

Adam and I had another tender kissing session before we too rolled over and went to sleep, me spooning into him from behind, arm draped over him, and holding hands.

Next chapter

© Copyright 2008 Tristan Jaimes