Tim and the Guys
The following fictional narrative involves sexually-explicit erotic events between men. If you shouldn't be reading this, don't.
In the world of this story, the characters don't always use condoms. In the real world, you should care enough about yourself and others to always practice safe sex.
The author retains all rights. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the author's consent.
Thanks to Tom for doing the editing chores, and to my Nifty Six colleagues.
There's no reason why you should remember me unless you've read "Out of the Night" and have a remarkable memory.
I'm Edward Branscomb, called Ned by all my friends, including Rick Modarelli. Rick and I have been good friends since our soccer-playing days at Cranmer. In fact, in our junior year we became fuck buddies. I wasn't in love with Rick or anything like that, but I was fond of him. The little fucker was fun to be around and definitely sexy. We got into the habit of getting it on in his room or mine in the fraternity house fairly regularly. That's what led to our problem.
One day in the spring of junior year, I was paid a visit by Marcus Seacliffe, the sleaze who had somehow become president of the fraternity. When I opened the door of my room, there were Marcus and, standing slightly behind him, Billy McEachern, a guy with whom I'd had a couple of casual fucks the fall before. Billy was obviously nervous. Marcus looked very serious. (Marcus always reminded me of a fundamentalist evangelist, serious and pious on the outside, but totally corrupt inside.)
"President Marcus, Brother Billy, come in. What's up?"
Marcus took the only comfortable chair. Billy sat on my bed. I sat at my desk.
"Well, Brother Ned, we need your help. We need to get something on Brother Rick, and you are the perfect person to get it."
"What's Rick done? Why me?"
"Never mind what he's done. Maybe he hasn't done anything. Maybe it's what we want him to do. As for you, we know you two have been fucking like bunnies. There are no secrets in this fraternity."
"Okay, so Rick and I may have been indiscreet. Why should I do anything to get him into trouble?"
Billy cleared his throat and grinned again. "Well, Neddie, it's like this. I've given a statement about everything you and I did last fall. You know, uh, like everything, dude."
"Given the statement to whom?"
"Whom, yet. Aren't you the scholar?" Marcus said. "I have Billy's statement, and he's even had it notarized."
"So, what do you plan to do with it?"
Marcus grinned, clasped his hands behind his head, and leaned back in the chair. "Well, let's see, Branscomb. Your ma's the superintendent of schools in Fort Wayne, isn't she?"
Oh, God! I could see where he was going. "Yeah," I gulped.
"And if that statement, with all the details about cock sucking and fucking and ass licking somehow got to the Fort Wayne School Board, ya think it might be sort of embarrassing for your ma?"
"And just what is it you want?"
Marcus laid it out for me. They were going to supply miniature cameras for my room that could film Rick and me having sex. If I refused, the Fort Wayne School Board would get copies of Billy's notarized statement detailing our sexual sessions. I was being asked to sell out Rick to save my mother. Just what, as it turned out, Marcus was going to do later to Rick to get at his ultimate goal, Professor Douglas Curtis.
When I expressed my reluctance to do that, Marcus told me that copies of Billy's statement, with his name deleted, could also turn up in every mailbox and email address on campus overnight.
I didn't want to betray Rick. He was a good friend. But Mom's career. My career! I was already planning to apply to the Wharton Business School for graduate work, and though they might not reject me because I was gay, they could very well refuse me because I had been the subject of adverse publicity. They were very selective, and my chances of getting in from a little Midwestern college like Cranmer were marginal at best.
I agonized for days before I agreed to let Marcus have the cameras installed in my room.
This would be a good place to tell you that when Rick understood what Marcus had done, he forgave me. And, as you'll see, after we both graduated we became friends and eventually intimates again.
Anyway, the cameras were installed, and Marcus got his pics of Rick and me doing just about everything.
You may know the rest of the story. Dr. Curtis, who was thoroughly outed and shamed on campus, left the college and left teaching at the end of our senior year. Rick went into a total funk and avoided me, even though he said he forgave me, for all of senior year.
We began to correspond via email when we were both in grad school, however. It helped me to be able to tell him how sorry I was about what I'd done to him. It seemed to help him to share his feelings of guilt for what he'd done to Curtis.
When I got my MBA at Wharton/Harvard, I moved back to Indiana. I got a job at an accounting firm in Indianapolis where I worked as I studied for and eventually got my CPA.
I was able to chronicle for Rick the rise and demise of Seacliffe, and he's already told you about that. [OOTN, ch. 12}
During the year after he got his Ph.D. at Brown and was traveling, he and I managed to get together a couple of times, once when he came through Indianapolis and once when I had occasion to go to Chicago.
So. That brings us to the late spring/early summer of 2003. Rick had been hired at the big university in northeastern Ohio. He sent me an email saying that he and the Senator were going for their annual getaway in the mountains of West Virginia.
Then one evening in June I got a call from Rick. He told me had leased a condo and was in the process of finding furniture for it. He wanted me to come up the following weekend. "So we could catch up," he said. I checked my calendar and told him I'd fly up on Saturday morning and be there by noon. He offered to meet my plane at Hopkins, but I told him I'd just get a car there and drive to campus. He said it was an easy drive on I-71 and the Ohio Turnpike and shouldn't take over an hour.
Then he said he had a lot to tell me about, but that he'd wait until I was there. How's that for leaving a guy puzzling? I knew Rick, though, and he played his cards pretty close to his chest. If it was important, particularly if it was personal, he wasn't going to discuss it in an email or a phone call.
I got a fairly early flight for the short trip from Indianapolis to Cleveland, so I called Rick from Hopkins to let him know I'd be there in about an hour. He had given me excellent directions and, sure enough, I pulled into the parking lot for his building about 11:30.
It was a nice-looking new building, pretty upscale, I judged. There was a tv camera over the buzzers in the vestibule. When I rang in, Rick's voice said, "Hey, Neddy! Come on up to 501!" The door between the vestibule and the lobby opened, and I went inside, across the lobby to an elevator and soon was being hugged by Rick. He was wearing a yellow collared tee and faded jeans. He was barefoot.
"Rick, li'l stud, you look delicious! And it's so great to see you, man!"
He gave me a very welcoming kiss and then stepped back. "You look pretty hot yourself, Ned. Imagine, a sexy accountant!"
I chuckled. "Yeah, by day, a mild-mannered accountant, by night, Super Nerd!"
"Don't give me that shit, Neddy. You've always been hot. And you're obviously taking good care of yourself. Where's your stuff?"
"Oh, it's still in the car. I thought we could get it later."
"Well, we won't leave it out there too long. How long since you had something to eat?"
"About 6:00 this morning. We didn't get anything on the plane."
"Let me show you the john. You can `freshen up,' as they say, and I'll get some lunch on for us. We'll bring up your things afterward, okay?"
Rick's apartment was a spacious two-bedroom, two-bath with a big living, dining, kitchen area. It was rather sparsely furnished, but with my limited knowledge of such things, it looked to me as if he had chosen an eclectic theme and expensive pieces.
I could smell baking bread as I walked toward the kitchen. When I got there, Rick was just putting a salad on our plates. It had spinach, mandarin oranges, sliced strawberries, and walnuts. He asked me to put the plates on the table in the eating area. He took a baking sheet of hot, crusty rolls from the oven and dumped them into a napkin-lined basket, which he handed to me to put on the table. Then he uncorked a bottle of chilled sauvignon blanc, poured some into each of our glasses, and waved me to a chair.
I complimented him on everything, especially the hot rolls. He told me they came in a bag from the frozen food department of the supermarket.
When we finished our salads, he took the plates and invited me to come into the kitchen with him. I watched and handed him things as he made an omelet. He asked me to put some raspberry preserves into a small bowl and put it on the table. When the omelet was ready, he divided it in two, put the parts on plates, and we returned to the table.
For dessert he came up with French roast coffee and lime cheesecake drizzled with chocolate. The cheesecake was, as they say, to die for, and I told him so. He told me there was a wonderful place in town called Fein's where they had all sorts of superb foods. A kind of glorified deli, it had been there for fifty years or so, all in the same family.
"You do manage to live well, it seems, old friend."
"Well, Ned, they say it's the best revenge, don't they?"
"So, have you met anyone here yet?"
"Well, I met a great many members of the English department when I was here for my interview, and I've gotten to know Tim Mead and his partner Ced Jones a little better. They took me to dinner when I was here for my interview. Then we had dinner together one evening in Chicago when they were there, and I saw them again when I came back here after that."
"Why did you come back the second time?"
"That's the news I have for you."
"I'll tell you later this afternoon, I promise. That was pretty important. And pretty intense."
"You're a tease, Rick. But I'll wait if you want. Now, tell me about these guys, Tim and Ced."
"Tim Mead is our age, Ned. He has his degree from Stanford. He's something of a hotshot and one of the reasons I got interested in coming here. He's been here two years and he's already published a major article and Stanford University Press has just come out with his book on dos Passos."
"Well, Rick, you're not far behind, if at all. You have two publications already, haven't you?"
He grinned. "Well, yeah. But back to Tim. I got to spend an evening with Tim and Ced when I was here for my interview. They took me to the place where I'm taking you for supper. Then we came back to their place for dessert and drinks. It was nice, Neddy, really nice."
"Okay, so start by describing them. First things first."
"Isn't it sad how much importance we gays put on looks, Ned?"
"Well, yes, I guess so. Now, what do they look like? Is this Cedric a professor, too?"
"No, Ced was a senior when I met them. He's just graduated and is going to Michigan Law. But they've been living together since last summer, and they came out at a department party at Christmas time."
"Ced's black, a varsity baseball player, an English major, smart, charming, and oh so very sexy."
Rick got up, damn him, to pour us some more coffee.
"He's about 5'10", good chest, nice ass, sort of a coffee bronze skin, short hair. And a BIG bulge. But he is such a sweet guy, Rick. I can see why Tim is in love with him. Ced's funny. And he's bright. He asked me all sorts of very sharp questions about my articles."
"Wow. Sounds too good to be true. What about Professor Mead?"
"Tim is short, about my height but thinner. He told me that he ran cross-country as an undergraduate. He went to Kenyon and graduated from there about the time we graduated from Cranmer. He still runs every morning in good weather and about three times a week indoors in the winter."
"Okay, but what does he look like?"
"He has pale skin, this wonderful auburn hair, which he wears fairly short, just a little longer than yours, and green eyes guaranteed to give you a hardon. His face is thin and fine-featured, and he's got the cutest butt you've ever seen."
"Yours excepted, of course."
He grinned. "Thanks, Neddy. You can have all the access to my butt you want tonight."
"So, what kind of a guy is this Mead, except for having a cute butt?"
"I like him a lot. I came here expecting to be impressed because I'm impressed with his scholarship. He's quiet, reserved, maybe even a little shy. And, I can tell you, he's loyal to his friends and absolutely devoted to the integrity of scholarship."
"I dunno, Rick. I can see where you'd admire him, but he sounds a little forbidding, too."
"Well, trust me, he isn't."
"Have you seen them since you got moved into your place here?"
"I haven't, actually. I've called a couple of times, and no one answers. I think Cedric's family live somewhere in the Cleveland area, and they may both be there. Or perhaps they took a vacation together. I'd like to get in touch with them. They'll probably show up soon. Maybe if they've been away, they'll be home tomorrow evening."
After lunch I went back to the car and brought in my satchel and garment bag. Rick had said we were going to dinner someplace where I'd need a jacket and tie.
"We'll put these in the guest room," Rick said, "but I hope you weren't planning on sleeping there."
"Well, it will be more convenient when we're changing for dinner, but I was hoping to be invited into your bed."
"Just so long as you don't get the idea I think of you as a sex object, Ned."
I grinned. "Well, not JUST as a sex object, anyway."
Soon after that we jumped in his Boxter and took off for Cleveland. Neither of us had ever seen Cleveland's Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, or the "Rock Hall," as the locals called it.
We had a chance to talk a lot in the car on the way up. He was interested in my work, which I liked, and my social life, which wasn't all that great.
"Still no steady guy in your life, Ned?" he asked.
"Not since Rolfe and I broke up."
"That didn't last long, did it?"
"No. He got transferred, and we decided the relationship, if that's what it was, wouldn't survive the separation."
"Well, you and I can keep hoping, babe. I told Tim and Ced I wanted what they have. Those two seem to be so much in love. Tim said they'd been together a little over a year, and it just kept getting better and better."
"Yeah, anybody who's got a committed relationship these days is pretty lucky."
The Rock Hall stands by the waterfront in Cleveland. The tall buildings of downtown are up on a bluff just across the Shoreway to the south. It was all pretty impressive. Just west of the Rock Hall is the Lake Erie Science Museum, another very modern building. We did both. I thought the buildings were better than the contents in each case. I have to admit that the exhibits in the former brought back lots of great memories of groups and tunes, but somehow it wasn't as great as I had expected it to be. The Science Museum had lots of hands-on stuff, but I thought it would be more fun for kids than for grownups. It was a great afternoon, though. Rick and I wandered, looked, and talked. We sat on a bench in the sun for a few minutes, but the breeze coming off the lake was cold, so we went back to the car, which we'd left in a parking building on E. 9th Street.
When we got back to Rick's place, we both showered and changed clothes. Then he took me to an upscale place called Stefan's. What I remember most about the evening was a maitre d' named Maurice who seemed to pitch a lot of attitude, and a really cute waiter named Kent something or other. He remembered Rick and called him Dr. Modarelli, though Rick had only been there once before, the night he went there with Tim and Ced. Rick asked when Kent was leaving for law school. Kent told us he'd been accepted at Duke and would be leaving for Durham in August. Meanwhile he was staying in town to keep his job. He grinned when he said the tips at Stefan's were pretty good.
After we had our drinks and a basket of wonderful bread, I took a sip of my JD and leaned back. "Okay, Modarelli. There was something that came up at lunch you told me we could talk about later. What's with that?"
He finished the piece of bread he was chewing on, took a sip of his wine, some kind of red, and leaned back in his chair. "Ned, I've seen Doug Curtis."
"No way! How'd that come about?"
He explained that Curtis was living in Florida with his lover, who just happened to be the father of Cedric's best friend. Somehow Tim mentioned to Stan, the lover, that they'd hired this guy named Modarelli, and Stan had a fit. He'd heard about "Rick the Prick," as he called him, from Doug.
"Sheesh! What a coincidence. So, then what happened?"
"Tim was pretty upset. Seems he doesn't know Doug all that well, but he's really fond of Stan, who is not only Mark's father, but a father figure for Cedric and two more of their friends who've been buddies all four years here at the U."
"Tim was upset?"
"Yeah. As he told me later, he had liked me and recommended that the university hire me. Then he found out what I had done to Doug (though he had no idea why I did it), and he thought he was partly to blame for hiring a monster."
I reached across the table and put my hand on his. I noticed Kent standing across the room smiling at us and figured he had to be gay. "Rick, you aren't a monster, buddy. Did you get a chance to explain?"
He grinned. "Yeah. Ced and Tim came to Chicago and confronted me over dinner. We went back to my place, and I explained the whole thing."
"How did they take it?"
"Cedric was great from the beginning. Tim was much slower to make up his mind. He was pretty cool while we were together in Chicago. When he got back here, though, he had had a chance to think it over and called to say that, though he thought I'd made a terrible mistake, he could see why I felt I had no option but to do what I did."
"Well, duh! You and I both made terrible mistakes, Rick. I'm just glad you were able to forgive me."
"Ned, how could I not, since I caved to the same kind of pressure you were under?"
"Well, anyway, what happened with you and Curtis?"
"They came up to see Cedric and Stan's son Mark play a baseball game late in the spring term. While they were here, Tim, who had already told Doug the story, persuaded Doug to see me. We met, and the first thing he did was hug me. I don't mind telling you I bawled like a baby. He is such a sweet man. He said he was so hurt because he was afraid that I had done what I did out of pure malice. He said he should have given me the benefit of the doubt and realized that I wouldn't have done that except under extreme pressure."
"That's so great, Rick. I know how relieved you must have been."
Rick took another sip of his wine and sort of stared into space for a minute. I admired that beautiful face, with his sexy brown eyes and trim mustache.
"You know what's really great? Doug and Stan are truly in love. Stan's fiercely protective of Doug, and they both obviously love each other deeply. They are having a bit of a rough time because they are an openly gay couple in Bumfuck, Florida, but they've elected to stay there and face down the bigots."
"Doug is still not teaching?"
"No, he says he's working on a novel, and he's helping Stan in his law office. I think they're offering legal services for the disadvantaged of the community."
"How are they managing to live doing that?"
"Tim tells me that Stan has more money than he knows what to do with, so that's not a problem."
"In that case, I'd have been inclined to sail away into the sunset."
"Yeah, me, too. I admire them both for what they're doing."
* * *
For the umpteenth time that day, I thought how sexy Ned was. His face was thin, as was his nose. His hazel eyes were a little too close together to be movie-star handsome, but he surely looked good to me. He wore his light brown hair just barely long enough to part. When he looked at me and smiled, he'd given me stiffies since we both went out for soccer freshman year.
It was great having him there for the weekend, and I took pleasure in thinking that Indianapolis wasn't that far away. We had been keeping in touch via email and the occasional phone call, but it was good to think we could get together once in a while now. I knew we'd never live together. We had realized that at Cranmer. But he was a good old friend and a wonderful sex partner. I began to think about that as we sat there.
When we finished our main course, I said, "The desserts here are fabulous, Ned, but I've got more of the cheesecake back at my place, if that will do."
He leered at me. "Ricky, I want you for dessert. Maybe cheesecake after that. We'll see. Thanks for dinner. It was fabulous. Now, let's get that cute stud over here with our check and then vamos!"
I grinned at him and said, "You're reading my mind, babe."
I gave Kent a nice tip, wished him luck at Duke, and we left.
On the drive home I asked my friend, "Neddy, are you still a practicing Episcopalian?"
"Feel like going to church in the morning?"
"Sure, but I'm surprised you'd offer."
I grinned. "When I was here last time, you know, when Doug and I were reconciled, I met this really good friend of Tim's. They were buddies at Kenyon as undergraduates. And now the guy, Max, is the assistant rector and campus minister at St. Peter's here in town."
"And? What's your interest in this Max? Is he hunky?"
"Well, I've been thinking of starting to attend church more regularly, and since you introduced me to your church, I've really felt more comfortable there than in mine, the one I was brought up in, that is. So, I thought you might like to see Father Max in action. Besides, I want to ask him if he knows what's up with Tim and Ced. I'm a little more worried than I let on about why they haven't been home."
"We don't have to go to the early service, do we? Does this Max assist at the later service?"
"Yeah, I checked that out. He takes the early service on alternate Sundays, but tomorrow he's got the main service all to himself. Father John's doing the early Eucharist and then going to do a guest-shot in Akron, or something like that."
"Well, that's good. I was hoping we wouldn't have to get up at like 6:00 AM or something."
I grinned at him. "Thinking about staying in bed late in the morning, are you, Ned?"
He grinned back, put his hand on my thigh, and asked, "What do you think, li'l stud?"
All thoughts of the cheesecake forgotten, he went to his room to hang up his jacket, he said.
In my room, I took off my jacket and hung it up, removed my tie, and kicked off my loafers. I was pulling the duvet off the bed when he came back, wearing only his boxers. I noticed there was a tent in them.
"Man, you move quicker than me. Let me finish undressing."
"Allow me, monsieur." He rapidly undid the buttons on my shirt and took it off. Then he began to fumble with my belt, and his hands were cold against my stomach.
"Neddy, you aren't nervous, are you?"
Still working on my belt and the catch on my pants, he looked me in the eye and said, "Well, Rick, yeah, a little bit. It's been a while, you know."
"Too long, babe. This is the first time we've been together since I went to England. When was it I came to Indy, last October?" My pants fell to the floor, and I stepped out of them. Standing before him in my black briefs and black socks, a tent beginning to show, I said, "it's been too damned long, anyway."
I took his hands and put them in my armpits. They felt cold, but I knew they'd warm up quickly there. Then, to his surprise, I pulled his face toward mine and kissed him. Despite all the sex we'd had, going back nearly six years, we'd never kissed. At first, he just stood there with my mouth pressed against his. When I ran my tongue over his lips, he parted them, giving me an opening. I didn't pass up the opportunity. I stuck my tongue into his mouth and began to explore. Getting into the spirit of things, Ned began to return the favor, and soon we were into one hot, wet, passionate kiss. I could feel his cock grow hard and begin to thrust against my belly. I could tell by the feel of it that it was sticking out the fly of his boxers. My own tool hurt because it was trapped in the confines of my briefs.
When the kiss was over, we were both gasping. "What was all that about? You've never kissed me before."
"Do you mind?"
"No, I'm just surprised, curious."
"Well, after all these years, Ned, we're something more than just casual sex partners, don't you think?"
"Yeah, I suppose so."
"I've missed you, Branscomb. I'm glad to see you. So I kissed you. No big deal. It's not like we're getting engaged."
He grinned. "Then let's do it again." He took his now warm hands away from my pits, put them behind my head, and pulled me into a kiss.
When we had to breathe, I stepped back and looked him up and down. His slender six-inch dick was, as I had surmised, poking through the fly of his boxers and twitching. I pulled off my briefs, knelt in front of him, and pulled down his shorts. Looking up, I noticed that he seemed slightly hairier than I remembered. He was developing chest hair, now that we were into what we hated to call our late twenties.
He stood looking down at me, smiling. I grabbed his pole with one hand and began to lick it. Soon he was oozing, and I lapped up the precum as it slowly leaked from his slit. He put his hands in my hair, running his fingers through the curls, and said, "I've missed you, too, Rick. This is good, my friend."
I stood, and he stepped out of the boxers which had been at his ankles. Then I pushed him gently onto my king-sized bed, where we had a long, slow 69 session. Ned had a talented mouth. He could bring me to the edge, but he knew when to back off. I think I was on the verge of orgasm three times before, finally, I came. But such was our chemistry that I was doing the same thing to him, and we both exploded, almost together. I turned around so we were lying side by side, both on our backs, coming down from the high we'd just shared.
After a few minutes, Ned rolled over, propped his head on his hand, and grinned at me. "You know, Modarelli, we're not eighteen any more. I can't do it again just yet. How about some more of that cheesecake?"
"Tell me, old timer, are you going to need coffee with that?"
He gave me a sheepish grin. "Well, I did get up early this morning to get my plane, you know. Yeah, let's have some coffee."
So, naked as babes, we went to the kitchen. I put on coffee and cut us each a piece of cheesecake. This time, after drizzling some extra chocolate on it, I put a maraschino cherry on each piece.
Ned laughed. "Tell me professor, is there some sort of symbolism in the cherries?"
I had to giggle. "Hardly. We've been fucking each other for years, and I don't think either of us took the other's cherry, did we?"
"Nope, not as I recall."
When we finished, Ned commented, "Well, that was a great way to get the taste of your cum out of my mouth. Not that I really dislike it. Maybe this was just a palate cleanser."
"Well, why don't we brush our teeth and use the bathroom, and then we can make a night of it."
He slapped me on the bare ass. "Sounds like a plan, my man. Whatever `it' is."
I finished in the bathroom before Ned did, and he'd used the guest bath. So, I was in bed waiting for him.
Have I told you how great he looks? He's nearly six feet tall, maybe four inches taller than I am. He has the soccer player's typical big thighs and calves, but his torso is lean. It isn't that he has no muscles. He has nice abs, and his shoulders are broad enough. It's just that there's a graceful, willowy quality to his upper body that has always turned me on. My cock rose to full erection as Ned turned off the hall light and walked across the bedroom toward me.
I suppose most of you are expecting that the smaller guy would be the bottom. Most of the time, however, Ned wanted me to take him. That night was no exception.
He got into bed beside me, grinned, and pulled his knees back. "I've been waiting for this for a long time, Rick. Fuck me good, man!"
"All in good time, Ned, all in good time."
I crawled into position and began licking his balls. When they were thoroughly wet, I blew my breath on them, and he jumped. Then I began to lap at his perineum, working slowly toward his crack. He was moaning and wiggling as he always had.
Momentarily I had a flash of recollection. One of the pictures Marcus had was of me rimming Ned. That memory took away my concentration for a minute. Before he could say anything, though, I got back to work, first licking and then stabbing his rosebud.
"Damn, Rick. I like your `stache. It feels so good."
I chuckled. "Did you know the Germans call this a Schenkelbuerste?"
"What does that mean?"
"What's the German for ass tickler? That's what it is!" Ned was nothing if not appreciative, and soon he was begging me again to fuck him.
"Reach in that drawer and get me the lube and a condom, stud." He got both items and handed them to me.
I lubed his ass and then did the finger routine. At one time I was able to use four fingers, but when I tried that this time, he grunted. "Oh, easy, Rick! It's been a while."
"What, you mean Rolfe didn't use four fingers?"
"Rolfe didn't need to. His cock wasn't as fat as yours. Just go slow, okay?"
I went slowly, using three fingers, scissoring and twisting them, massaging his prostate, until he told me to use the fourth finger. Soon after that he told me he was ready.
As I lubed my cock and then put on the condom and then lubed it, he was complaining,
"Jesus, Rick. I'm in need here, man. What's taking you so long?"
I laughed. "Coming, dear." I put the tip of my throbbing dick against his now gaping, twitching pucker, and pushed all the way in.
"Yikes," he said.
"Yeah, I'd just forgotten how fat that fucker of yours is. But it's okay now. Do me, babe."
That 69 earlier was a good thing, for it kept either of us from coming too soon. I was in no hurry to come, and I knew Ned was loving it, humping his ass up to meet my strokes and then clamping down on the outstrokes as if he was afraid I was going to withdraw. I lost track of time for a while, but suddenly I could hold back no longer, coming copiously into the sheath. Then I collapsed on top of Ned. Apparently the earlier kisses had broken some kind of barrier, for he wrapped both arms around my head and kissed me hungrily.
"Rick, that was fantastic! I'm glad you're close enough to Indianapolis that we can get together. I've missed these little romps."
"Hey, this one ain't over yet, stud. You haven't come."
"Oh, that's okay."
"No, it isn't." I got between his legs and gave him the best blowjob I knew how to do. He trembled as he shot into my mouth a load as big as the one before. I thought about feeding it back to him with a kiss but decided that might be pushing things, so I swallowed it. Then I crawled up beside him, pulled the covers over us, and hugged him. We went to sleep that way.
I rather like the taste of cum, but when I woke up, I had a terrible taste in my mouth. It was only 7:00 AM, so I crawled out of bed, being careful not to disturb Ned, and went to the bathroom, peed, used some Scope, and climbed carefully back into bed. I spooned against Ned, who had rolled onto his side. Soon, I was asleep again.
The next thing I knew Ced Jones was sucking on my nipple. I put my hands on his head, but his hair didn't feel right. It was shorter softer than Ced's and less curly than I expected it to be. It seemed familiar. When I opened my eyes, I saw, of course, that it was Ned.
"Good morning, Branscomb. You surely do know how to wake a guy up!"
He never quit. He just rolled his eyes up so he could see me, and then kept on sucking.
I looked at the clock. It was 9:00. We had plenty of time. I relaxed and enjoyed what he was doing. Before I knew it, I was handing him the lube and a rubber. "Yeah, Ned, do me!"
I hadn't had sex with anyone for quite a while, and the last time it was with Ned. I was ready. And Ned, bottom at heart, knew how to give a fine fuck when he wanted to.
Later, exhausted, exhilarated, wondering how I could do without that kind of sex until the next time Ned and I could manage to get together, I hugged him tightly to me.
"Damn, Rick, that was sweet, man. When can you come to Indy?"
"You want me to come to see you?"
"Don't be coy with me, Modarelli. I've missed you. This has been fine. I want more."
"How long a drive is it? You know how tired I am of planes."
"Well, if I had a Boxter, I might enjoy the drive myself. It's about 5 hours. Unless, of course, you get arrested for speeding."
"Then how about in two weeks?"
"Can you come Friday evening?"
"No problem. I can be there right after you get off work if you want me that early."
We showered and shaved, had a leisurely breakfast, and then dressed for church.
St. Peter's was "high" church, especially at the late service. Ned enjoyed the service, and it wasn't really all that different from the Catholic services I was accustomed to.
We stood in line to shake hands with the priest after the service. Max seemed pleased to see me, and he greeted Ned cordially after I had introduced them.
I hated to hold up the line, but I told him that I hadn't been able to catch Tim at home and asked if he knew where Tim was.
His face fell.
"Oh, right, I suppose you haven't heard. Look, Rick, I need to finish up here. Could you and Ned go have some coffee in the parish hall? I'll find you there. You need to know the latest on Ced."
"What happened to Ced?"
"Well, that's what I'll tell you if you'll meet me in a few minutes."
I looked at Ned. He shook his head yes, indicating that he had enough time before he had to leave for the airport. "Sure, Max. We'll see you inside when you can get there."
Ten minutes later, Max, sans vestments, came into the parish hall. Ned and I had gotten some coffee and had been greeted by a number of parishioners.
Max said, "Let me get some coffee. Sit down at one of those tables over there, please, and I'll be right with you."
He came back with his coffee and sat beside us. By that time I was pretty nervous about Cedric.
"It's good to see you, Rick, and to meet you, Ned. But I'm afraid I've got some terrible news."
"Cedric was seriously injured a week ago in a hit-and-run accident near his home in Shaker Heights."
"Oh, damn! I'm so sorry. Tim must be devastated. How serious is it?"
"Pretty bad. He's had major head injuries. They've operated to relieve the pressure on the brain, and his vitals are all stable now. But he hasn't regained consciousness."
"What's the prognosis?"
"The doctors say there's no reason why he hasn't awakened, but the longer he goes, the worse it looks."
"How's Tim holding up?"
"Tim's a very strong guy, most of the time, Rick. But he's, as you said, devastated. He's desperate."
"Is he commuting from here to Cleveland every day? Is that why I can't contact him?"
"No, he's staying with Ced's parents in Shaker. I'm going to University Hospital this afternoon to see him, Cedric, and Ced's parents."
"Damn, what a shame!" I paused as both Ned and Max nodded their heads in agreement.
"Max, would you please tell Tim and Ced's parents how sorry and how concerned I am? And, look, I'm pretty much free until the fall term starts. If there's anything, that is ANYTHING, I can do, please ask them to call on me."
"I'll do that, Rick. Now, if you two will excuse me, I need to get home, grab a bite, and be on my way to Shaker."
Ned and I stood and shook hands with the priest.
"Give Tim a hug for me?"
He smiled. "I'll be happy to."
To be continued.