This is a fictional story dealing with love and consensual sexual activities between males. If you are not of legal age, reside in an area where viewing such material is illegal, or are offended by homosexuality and/or homosexual themes, leave this site now.
The author retains all rights to this story. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the permission of the author.
Note: Thanks to Tim and Rock for feedback on the draft chapters. I owe a special thanks to Robb for doing the final proofreading and catching all those silly little errors I missed.
Send comments to: firstname.lastname@example.org
by Jeff Allen
I slept the entire night with Michael spooned up against me. I partially woke a couple of times and was aware of his chest against my back and his semi erect manhood pressed against my ass. Each time I moved he pulled me in closer. His scent would fill my nostrils, and I would slip back into a peaceful sleep. It had been ten years since I'd spent the entire night with a man. I'd had sex with lots of men in that time, but I'd never allowed them to spend the night. Would it have been so good with one of my previous sex partners? What was it about Michael that caused me to drop all my carefully constructed defenses?
When I finally woke in the morning, Michael wasn't in the bed. I panicked at first and stretched my hand out to where he had been. The bed was still warm. I was relieved. I'd thought that he'd gotten up and left during the night. I soon became aware of sounds in the kitchen, and the smell of brewing coffee wafted into the bedroom. I settled back under the covers.
Michael, clad in just his baby blue briefs, came in carrying a tray with two mugs of coffee and my sugar bowl and creamer.
"Morning, sleepy head. You take anything in your coffee?"
"Just a little cream, thank you. The coffee smells great, but I really have to use the bathroom before I take in any liquid."
He set the tray down on the dresser. "Let me help you. How's the ankle feeling today?"
With most of my weight supported on his muscled shoulder I gingerly put some weight on the ankle.
"Still sore, but better than yesterday. I don't think I'll be running any time soon, but I can probably manage to get around using the crutches."
We made our way to the bathroom where I pointed junior toward the toilet bowl and relieved my bladder.
When I was back in the bed, Michael set the tray down in the middle of the bed and climbed on the other side to sit with his back against the headboard.
"I found the coffee, but I didn't find very much for breakfast."
"I usually just have some yogurt and a piece of toast. I imagine you're used to something more substantial in the morning?"
"Yeah, I'd be fainting away with hunger by nine o'clock if I just had what you eat. Let's finish our coffee, and then go out and get us some real breakfast."
We showered together, but didn't really mess around, at least not much. Michael was hungry, and he was on a mission to get mega calories into his body before he wasted away.
We ended up at the breakfast bar at Shoney's. He ordered the buffet. I asked for a bagel and cream cheese. After he had demolished two platefuls of eggs, bacon, grits, hash browns, fruit, and biscuits we settled back with our coffee.
"You said last night that your brother thought I was gay. Does that mean you're `out' to your brother?"
Michael nodded while he took another swallow of coffee. "Yup. I came out to him and my parents almost ten years ago. I was still in the Army and home on leave. I'd finally figured out that I was gay, so I told them."
"How did they react?"
"It was wonderful. Mom and Daddy told me that it might take a little getting used to on their part, but that they still loved me. Marshall hugged me, and told me he was glad I'd finally figured it out. His girlfriend, who's now his wife, kept trying to set me up with guys." He smiled at the memory. I made a mental note to ask him about some of those experiences.
"The next time I came home on leave we piled in the car to go to church like we always did, and Daddy drove right by the Oakdale Baptist Church where we'd always gone. Turns out they'd left that church and joined the United Church of Christ because our old pastor had started railing on about the sins of homosexuality. Mom and Daddy just got up, walked out, and never went back. I hear it caused quite a stir in the congregation, but Mom and Daddy never said a word to me about it.
"What about you? Did your parents know?"
"No, I don't think they did. Mother was always hinting that I should find a wife. I always told her I was too busy with my career. I...I've never done anything with another guy here in Adams. I've always been very careful here."
He grinned. "Does that mean I'm special?"
The directness of his comment caught me off guard. All I could do was swallow and nod my head in reply.
He reached out and put his hand on the table so his fingertips were just touching mine. It felt like there was an electric current running between us.
"Luke, let's go back to your house. I want to show you that you're pretty special to me too."
Except for about half an hour when Michael ran out to the store, we spent the rest of the day touching each other in some way. Mostly we stayed on the sofa in the Florida room. He read while I worked on correcting the exams. We took frequent breaks from reading or correcting to hug and kiss. Twice the kissing sessions got so intense that he carried me back into the bedroom, and we continued the kissing and caressing sans clothing.
At dinnertime we got dressed again, and at my insistence Michael drove us over to Cantana's Restaurant for dinner. After a short wait, we were shown to a booth. I tucked the crutches out of sight behind the tablecloth. Just by chance Brandon Harris was our waiter. He greeted me warmly and smiled at Michael. He told us about the special menu items for the evening, took our drink orders, and left.
Michael leaned closer and in a low voice said, "I think our waiter plays for our team, and I think he's got our number. You may not be as closeted as you think."
"Brandon is one of the students that I was telling you about last night."
"Ah, that's right. The two pairs of friends that live down the street. I should have recognized him, but he looks different dressed up in a tuxedo shirt and black dress pants."
"I think you're right about Brandon playing for our team. His brother, Bart, and Bart's boyfriend, Isaac, flat out told me they were a couple and asked if I had a problem with it. Of course I told them their sexuality wasn't any of my business. Just from watching body language, I think Brandon's boyfriend is Josh Locklear. I do know that Brandon and Josh are roommates. I've seen them coming out of the same apartment."
"Is this going to be a problem for you since Brandon's in your class? I mean, we could go somewhere else for dinner."
"Thanks for your sensitivity, but based on my experience in class with those four guys I can't imagine there would be a problem. They strike me as exceptionally bright and mature young men who have already settled into their own skins, unlike some of us who are much older. Maybe it's time I was a little more open at school anyway. By the way, this dinner is a way for me to tell you how glad I am that you're so pushy."
"Yes, pushy. You more or less invited yourself into my house."
"Hey, I was just trying to take care of you. You were hurt. I'm the good guy here."
"None the less, it was pushy. However, if you hadn't been pushy we wouldn't have had last night and today."
He grinned. "It's been good, hasn't it?"
"Very good, Michael. Very good, indeed."
At that time Brandon returned with our drinks so conversation stopped while we ordered. When Brandon left to put our orders into the kitchen, Michael and I resumed talking, but we kept the conversation away from sexual matters. He told me a little about growing up in the small town of Oakdale, Virginia, about playing sports as a kid and in high school, and about his mother insisting that both he and his brother take piano lessons. They'd resisted and complained, but to their surprise they found that they enjoyed the lessons. He told me that one of his first purchases after getting out of the Army had been an upright piano.
"I play it now mostly for relaxation. Between the piano and my CD collection which is mostly classical and jazz, I must drive my red necked neighbors nuts. I blame it all on Miss Elizabeth Brooks, my piano teacher. She had studied piano and music up at Indiana, but then she had to come back home to take care of her ailing father. She never left Oakdale, even after her father died. She was the piano teacher in town, and she's the one who got Marshall and me to appreciate something other than Country Music or Blue Grass."
Michael Crane was a much more complex person than I'd thought at first.
The dinner was wonderful. I couldn't finish everything. Michael ate all of his and then cleaned up the remains on my plate.
When Brandon came back to the table to clear away our dinner plates, he placed a plate with an assortment of cannolli on the table.
I gave him a questioning look.
He smiled. "Just a little treat from me, Dr. Madison, to let you know how much all of us guys are enjoying your course. If you're too full from dinner, I can put the cannolli in a take home box. If you want to eat it here, I can bring you some freshly brewed coffee."
I looked across the table at Michael. He smiled and nodded.
"Thank you, Brandon. The meal was delicious, and the cannolli look wonderful. I may not be able to eat very much, but I think Mr. Crane over there will be able to do justice to the dessert. We'll stay here and have the coffee."
He smiled again. It was amazing how much his smile changed his face. The scar above his eyebrow and the one on his cheek gave a severe, almost dangerous look to an otherwise handsome face. When he smiled his eyes lit up, and you hardly noticed the scars.
"Wonderful. I hope you enjoy it. I'll bring the coffee right away."
When Brandon left Michael leaned across the table, "I think you've made an impression on him."
"He's made an impression on me. I wish he and the other three guys were history majors. I'd look forward to having them in another course."
Brandon returned with the coffee and the check. "I've brought the check, but there's absolutely no hurry. You and Mr. Crane are welcome to stay here the rest of the evening if you want. I'll just check every once in a while to make sure you've got enough coffee."
The coffee was good, and the cannolli were wonderful. Despite being full from the meal, I managed to eat a whole cannolli. Michael polished off the rest. The man could really put away the food!
We lingered over the coffee. True to his word, Brandon checked every so often to make certain our cups were filled. When I finally signed the credit card slip, I added a substantial tip for Brandon.
Back at my house we sat together on the couch relaxing, listening to Hovahaness' Mystery of the Holy Martyrs Op. 251, and enjoying the closeness of our bodies. Tom curled up against Michael on the other side, and purred loudly. When the music was done we made our way to the bedroom. Tom disappeared to one of his feline hiding places.
There was a box of condoms and a tube of KY on the nightstand. He must have picked them up when he went to the store. He saw me smile.
"I thought we might want to be prepared tonight."
"Were you a Boy Scout?"
"Good, I want to be sure to keep on impressing you, and I have an idea about how to do that."
He knelt down and took my hardening phallus into his mouth. We moved to the bed. He covered me with kisses. His hands explored my body for the third time that day yet it was just as intense, perhaps even more intense than before, because he was unhurried. He moved down between my legs and ran his tongue over my entrance. All I could do was moan in appreciation.
He moved his finger inside. When he pressed gently on my prostate, I thought I was going to cum. I grabbed a condom out of the box and tore the foil wrapper with my teeth.
I unrolled the condom down over his shaft. He added some KY, then lubed my waiting hole. It had been months since I'd had a cock inside me. I expected some discomfort. There wasn't any. He kept his eyes locked on mine as he moved slowly into me until I felt his pubic hair against my perineum.
Twice he brought me to the brink of orgasm, only to back down just at the last second. My dick was rock hard and leaking precum all over my stomach. As I approached the precipice for the third time, I reached up to play with his sexy eraser tip nipples. I could tell from his breathing that he was close to his own orgasm. His thrusts had been slow almost leisurely, but as his body moved toward climax he began to thrust forcefully. I felt him swell inside me, and I knew he was releasing his seed into the condom. He gave one more thrust then leaned down and took my dick in his mouth. That did it! I came. Boy, did I come.
He held me in his mouth until I was completely spent. Then he released my cock, swallowed, leaned forward and began to gently lick the sweat from my face and neck.
I must have fallen asleep right after making love because I don't remember him pulling out of me. I woke slightly sometime during the night. His front was pressed against my back and his arm was across my chest, exactly how we'd slept the night before. I smiled and went back to sleep.
Sunday we went out for breakfast again. Back at the house, I finished grading the exams for my class while Michael made some phone calls or read. We spent a lot of time cuddling on the sofa, but we didn't end up naked like we had the day before. It was just very comfortable to be with him.
Michael fixed another delicious dinner in the evening, and then we watched a baseball game. I hadn't watched baseball in years!
My ankle was doing much better. I still needed the crutches, but I was able to stand for a while with moderate weight on the ankle. I felt certain that I'd be back running in another week.
We made sweet love again that night. He seemed to know just where and how to touch me to bring out the maximum amount of pleasure. I was so turned on by the time he finally rolled the condom down over his dick and entered me that I thought I would come as soon as he entered me, but once again he knew just when to back off. When we did come, it was a mind blowing mutual orgasm. Again, I don't even remember him pulling out of me before we went to sleep. It seems that neither one of us was one of those `Let's-have-a little-pillow-talk-after-the-sex' types.
When the alarm went off on Monday morning, Michael was already up and moving around in the kitchen. I hobbled to the bathroom to relieve my bladder. Michael had a tray with breakfast sitting on the bed by the time I limped back into the bedroom. He was already dressed.
"Will you be able to get to class this morning on your own?"
"Yes. I'll take my car. There won't be many cars in the faculty parking lot since it's summer term. I shouldn't have any trouble parking close to my office."
Michael looked down at the floor. There was an awkward silence. I suddenly thought that he would leave, that this had just been a pleasant weekend diversion for him.
In desperation I asked the question, even though I feared the answer. "Uh, Michael, will you be back for dinner tonight?"
He looked up and broke into a big smile. "You mean I can come back?"
I smiled back at him. "Well, I guess so. I'd hate to have you spend money for a motel room when there's a perfectly good bed available right here."
He had me wrapped in his arms in a flash. "I wanted to stay, but I didn't know how to ask. I was afraid you'd be tired of me after the weekend."
"Michael, I don't think I could ever get tired of you."
(To be continued)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Some of the characters who play parts in this story were previously introduced in "When Love Comes" (last posted in the College section on Sept. 6, 2001), "Love of a Lifetime" (last posted in the College section on May 19, 2003) or "Finding Family" (last posted in the College section on June 5, 2008). While not necessary, readers may find it useful to read the earlier stories posted on this site. All of the Adams State/Carterville stories listed above as well as my other stories are also posted at www.crvboy.com.
Send Comments to email@example.com