I made special note of that day, March 18, 1969. It represented a sort of sea change in my relationships with Steve and Sammy and Daniel. Some of the ways things changed were understandable, even predictable, but others were far more difficult to understand.
By John Yager
This is the thirty-eighth chapter of an ongoing series. Thanks again for all your comments on this series.
I'm continually surprised and pleased by your reactions to this story. I read all of them and I try to respond promptly to each message. If there is a delay in my response it's usually because I'm traveling or just overwhelmed with work.
Absolute Convergence has raised a lot more questions than it's answering and I certainly don't claim to know the answers. It's my hope that by raising questions I may prompt more consideration of issues facing gay people in the USA and throughout the world.
There are several questions which many readers continue to ask. Chief among them has to do with my own background and experience, and the degree to which any one of the characters in Absolute Convergence is autobiographical. As I have said before in these introductions, this story is fiction. Of course I draw on my own experiences but I have made no attempt to model any single character on myself or on anyone I know.
Many readers have asked if any of the stories I've posted on NIFTY are autobiographical. The answer to that question is more complex. Several of the stories are drawn directly from my own experiences and a few are only thinly veiled accounts of actual events in my life.
The first story I posted on NIFTY was London Autumn, which was submitted on June 8, 2001. It is more or less autobiographical, as are At Dusk the Wind Changes, Bradley, Kitchen Conversations, Lisbon Weekend, Soren and Twenty-One Ten .
I would prefer not to answer further questions about my personal life, but do appreciate the interest expressed by readers.
The Tanner's Tales series is based on e-mail messages and subsequent telephone conversations with the person I have called Tanner. He represents the events related in that series to be factual and his own experiences.
As I have stated above, Absolute Convergence is a work of fiction and in no way draws on the lives of any specific person or persons. Except for the references to actual historical events, any similarity to actual persons or occurrences is entirely coincidental. This is obviously a work of gay erotic fiction. If you shouldn't be reading such material, or if such material isn't to your liking, please exit now.
Andrew has continued to give much needed proofing and editorial help, for which I am sincerely grateful. I could not post chapters as quickly as I've been doing without his invaluable assistance.
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One of the most immediately obvious and dramatic was the change in Steve. It was as if he'd suddenly become very mellow, very relaxed. Not only did he suddenly stop trying to boss the rest of us around, but he seemed to really enjoy the fact that someone, whether Daniel or Sammy or me, was taking over that role. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
After he and I had finished our rather rough episode, I'd slipped from the bed, leaving Steve sleeping soundly. He looked worn out and it occurred to me that he was the second guy I'd left sleeping in bed that morning. That, of course, reminded me of Sammy and I walked across the living room and into the bedroom where the cute redhead and I had spent the night. He was still dead to the world, and in his sleep had not only rolled over onto his back, but had pulled the sheet off his naked body. By then the Gulfport air was warm and heavy and I just left him as I'd found him, naked and uncovered and extremely cute.
My only desire at that point was to clean up. I went back to the room where Steve was sleeping and on into the bathroom to take a shower. The warm water ran over my body as I shampooed my hair and shaved a day's growth of stubble from my face. For some reason I felt exhilarated. I'd not had that much sleep and I'd certainly given my body a workout, but I felt as if I had energy to burn.
I was just finishing when Daniel returned. He'd come quietly into the bathroom and just as quietly, joined me in the shower. He was covered with sweat from his run and he'd left his shoes and shorts and jockstrap in a heap on the floor just outside the shower.
"Hi," he said as I turned and saw him. "Did you knock Steve out or something?"
"No," I grinned, "I just finished what you
"The guy's insatiable."
"I know." I watched as he worked a rich lather over his trim body. "What about you?"
"Oh, I had a great run," he said.
"Good, but I meant are you insatiable, too?"
He looked at me and grinned.
"More voracious, I think."
"What's the difference between insatiable and voracious?" I asked, leaning back against the tile wall and watching him rinse the soap from his body. Daniel was a gorgeous guy and the more I saw of him the more I realized how truly beautiful he was. Steve was a muscular hunk, Sammy was cute. Daniel was beautiful.
"Hum," he said, giving me an amused but thoughtful glance. "Maybe not much. I think I like the sound of voracious better. It sounds like you just have a healthy appetite, so I'll accept that description of myself."
"Well, you know, never satisfied, always needing more. I guess I think of a nymphomaniac as being insatiable."
"Can you apply `nymphomaniac' to a guy?"
"I don't know, but if you can, it sure fits Steve."
I don't know why I felt as if I needed to defend him, but I couldn't help saying, "not really, Daniel, he's a little crazed when it comes to sex and he sure is demanding, but if you get to know him you'll realize he really is a great guy under all the bravado."
"I'll take your word for it."
He'd worked a generous amount of shampoo into his thick hair and turned to rinse himself for one final time.
"Here, let me do that," I said, moving forward to work the rich suds through is hair. It felt wonderful, silky but heavy at the same time, very unlike my own. He supported himself against the wall with his hands either side of the shower head, his rear thrust back and the mounds of his butt round and inviting as the water streamed down the length of his back and then coursed through the deep canyon of his ass.
I stepped forward and pressed my groin against him. He groaned.
"That feels wonderful."
"Your head or your ass?" I chuckled.
"Both, wash my hair and fuck me at the same time. How much more sensual could it get?"
"I don't know but I suspect it isn't going to happen."
"Ah," he whined.
"I'll wash your hair but my cock is exhausted."
"How about later?"
"Yeah, Steve can have Sammy again."
The thought of Steve fucking Sammy caused me to have a moment of panic but then I remembered the lesson I'd given him the previous night and said, "Sammy may have other ideas."
"Yeah, I guess he may not want to sleep with Steve again."
"Or he may want to sleep with him and play offence for once."
"Yeah?" Daniel said as he turned to look at me over his shoulder.
"Watch it, guy," I said, "you'll get shampoo in your eyes."
He quickly shut his eyes and turned back to face the wall. "What did you mean?"
"I gave Sammy a few free flying lessons last night."
"Amazing," Daniel said, a note of pleasure in his voice. "I somehow can't picture little Sammy as a top."
"Oh, you and Steve are both in for an enlightening experience. The guy's an animal."
"You are kidding, right?"
"Well, a small animal. Maybe a cute little bunny rabbit."
"Have you ever seen a bunny rabbit fuck," Daniel laughed.
"Yeah, that's our Sammy." I ran my fingers through his hair one more time, massaging his scalp. "Now bend down and keep your eyes closed," I said as I pushed his head under the full thrust of the shower. The shampoo ran off his head and over his shoulders, cascading onto the floor of the shower in a river of white.
He turned around and we embraced, kissing lightly, neither of us taking it too far. It was gentle and loving and I was loving the feel of our wet bodies pressing warmly together.
"Um," Daniel said as we broke apart, "that was nice. I can't wait till tonight."
We dried each other and then went quietly out into the bedroom where Steve was still sleeping, his naked body sprawled across the big bed. He was lying on his back with his head turned slightly to his left, his eyes closed and his mouth partly open. His cock wasn't hard but it wasn't entirely soft either, lying at about two o'clock.
Daniel lifted the sheet over him and proceeded across the room to his duffel bag, from which he took a pair of shorts. I raised a questioning eyebrow and followed him out into the living room.
"You going to pull on those shorts?" I asked when he'd softly shut the door to the bedroom behind us.
"Yeah. You and Steve make me feel a little inadequate." He bent to pull the shorts up but I reached out to stop him.
"Don't," I whispered. "You're very adequate, Daniel."
He grinned, his eyes fixed on my cock.
"I intend to stay naked," I said, "and besides, I love looking at you."
"Really?" he said, a clear note of confusion in his voice.
"Really," I said, my hand still on his shoulder. "Hasn't anybody ever told you you're beautiful?"
"Yeah," he grinned, "my grandmother tells me all the time."
"Well, you have a very perceptive grandmother."
"Well, suit yourself," he said, sliding the shorts down over his leg and tossing them onto the back of one of the sofas. "Are you hungry?"
"Yeah, starved," I said, turning and going into the kitchen. "What are the options?"
"Eggs, toast," Daniel said, still whispering. "Would you like some sausages."
"In this household that question has real meaning," I grinned.
"Well, in this case, it means, would you like a few grilled links with your eggs and toast," Daniel said as he bent over and reached into the refrigerator.
"Oh, my, my, my," I muttered under my breath.
"What?" he asked, straightening up with an egg carton and a pack of links.
"I said you were beautiful, Daniel, but I didn't do you justice."
He blushed. His golden tan took on a sudden redness
which had nothing to do with the sun.
I went over to where he'd put the food on the counter, placed my hands on his broad shoulders and turned him to me. Holding him at arm's length, I just gazed at him for a long moment before drawing him into my arms and again kissing his warm, welcoming lips.
As our bodies pressed together again I felt a stirring
in my groin which I hadn't thought I'd feel again for several hours. His own
body pulsed against mine. Suddenly we were both moaning.
I was fully hard and as we broke our kiss and moved a little apart, our cocks sprang up to slap against our stomachs.
We were both breathing hard. Our eyes locked. Suddenly he turned around, spread his legs and lowered his chest onto the kitchen table.
"Fuck me, damn it. There's no way we're waiting till tonight."
I moved forward and ran my hand down over his back, letting my fingers slip into his crack, pressing his beautiful cheeks apart, revealing the pulsing rosebud of his ass. In an instant I was on my knees behind him, my face pressed firmly into the warm, damp valley, my tongue darting every which way, wetting the walls of his cleft, probing the twitching hole of his ass.
"Oh, god, Rob," Daniel was moaning. "Get your cock in me."
I rose up breathing hard.
"Lube," I demanded.
He reached out and drug the butter dish across the table toward me, sliding the glass across the grained wood with a hurried, rasping sound. The butter had almost lost its shape, slumping into a soft, golden puddle in the hot coastal air. I ran my fingers through it and spread the warm, slick goo over my pulsing cock. With no further delay, I leaned forward, pressed the head against his ass, and sank in full length.
"Yeah," we both moaned in unison.
It was over almost as soon as it began. I got in half a dozen good strokes before I felt his sphincter clamp down like a vise. That's all there was. Butter and semen were suddenly churning into some unlikely blend as I filled his ass.
"Oh, fucking yeah," he moaned as his own body convulsed under me.
When we'd recovered again I pulled out and stumbled back against the kitchen counter, my chest still rising and falling rapidly.
Daniel half rolled, half turned until he was sort of sitting on the edge of the table, his own body still recovering. I saw as he turned that he'd left a long white smear of his jizz on the dark wood of the table top and a corresponding streak down over the tight muscles of his stomach and chest.
"What the hell was that all about?" I gasped.
"Lust," he panted, "mutual lust."
He moved across the little space between us and threw
his arms around my shoulders. We stood there for a long time.
"Well," I said when we finally drew apart, "I guess it's back to the showers."
"Yeah, and then we are going to get some clothes on and go out for a huge breakfast. There's no way I'm going to cook now," he grinned. "And one more thing. . ."
"Just don't expect me to go around bare assed again."
"Ah," I complained.
To be continued.