Absolute Convergence

Chapter Forty-six

By John Yager

This is the forty-sixth chapter of an ongoing series. Thanks again for all your comments on this series. This chapter continues the narrative of Rob Ballinger's summer following his graduation from the University of Mississippi in 1972.

I always appreciate hearing from you and try to answer all messages promptly. If I am slow at times it is only because of the pressure of work or my somewhat demanding travel schedule.

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.

This work is copyrighted © by the author and may not be reproduced in any form without the specific written permission of the author. It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written permission of the author.

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We sat there a little longer and then, without warning, Rick moved out of my loose embrace. He stood and walked across the room, looked out the open windows toward the river.

"I guess if we're going to swim we should do it. Much longer and I'll be ready for lunch."

The issues we'd discussed were behind us. Important things had been decided and, in his usual way, Rick was ready to move on.

"I guess somebody will explain the details to me at some point," I said, watching him.

"Yeah, we'll have to go down to Jackson together, probably in a week or so."

"Okay," I said. "But I have to leave on the fourteenth."

Rick pulled off his T-shirt and stooped to remove his shorts. Then, naked, he just stood facing me. For the first time in four years I was staring at his naked form.

He looked bigger. His chest was massive and his arms were clearly larger then I remembered. His stomach was tight and his relaxed cock hung down over his heavy balls. It was odd, given their size, to think they were useless. Well, I thought, ineffective for making babes, but I could still put them to good use.

I was still sitting on the sofa, just drinking in his beauty. My eyes moved shamelessly over his body.

I had been hesitant to have sex with him, remembering the intensity of our love. I didn't want either of us to be hurt by allowing something to start again between us, something that could not be sustained.

But the decision had been made. We were going to have sex, no, we were going to make love. I tossed aside any hesitation I'd had and accepted the inevitable.

"You look great, Rick," I said after a moment. "State did a good job on you."

"Well, let's see what kind of a job Ole Miss did on the famous Rob Ballinger."

I stood and stripped.

"My god, Rob," he whispered when I stood naked before him, "you are more beautiful than I remember."

Rick was built like the football guard he had become. He was heavily muscled and he clearly outweighed me by at least fifty pounds. There was no fat on his massive body and he was as golden and smooth as I remembered him.

"You're a lot bigger than me now, Rick."

"Yeah, I guess you had to bring your weight down after your injury."

"I lost a lot of weight, but I managed to do it right." When he continued to stare at me I added, "I had a lot of help."

"Let's go swimming before I lose it and jump you," he grinned and headed out through the porch and on towards the water. No mention had been made of swimming suits.

When Rick got to the end of the old dock, he paused and then made a shallow dive, surfacing about forty feet out. I followed him, coming up within five or six feet of him, both of us treading water.

He gave me a splash and said, "old times."

"Yeah," I agreed, "old times," then, looking back at the cabin, added, "good times."

We swam around a little, switching from an easy crawl to a relaxed back stroke, floating, really, just moving with the slow current.

"Are you okay with this?" Rick asked after a few minutes.

"Yeah, I guess it will be okay, as long as we both understand the rules."

"Which are?"

"When this is over, you go back to Deb."

"And you go back to Steve."

"No, not any time soon."

"Problems?"

"No problems, just distance."

"People make it work from a distance," he said.

The tepid water swirled around and over us. I watched how it formed little eddies between the hard mounds of his chest.

"Not two thousand miles, Rick, not with him in law school and me in a demanding graduate program."

"So will you see him from time to time?"

"We plan on getting together over Christmas," I said, omitting the fact that Sammy and Daniel would be there too.

"I guess we can play by those rules."

"And Deb never knows."

"Deb doesn't know we were lovers, Rob. She just thinks you were my best friend."

"You were my best friend."

"Yeah," he said, "and you were mine. That part's true enough."

"I guess we'd better leave it that way."

"Yeah," he grinned, "especially if you're going to be our kid's Godfather."

I gave him a big splash.

"So what will I have to do, Rick? I mean, I can more or less figure out the process."

"Well, we go to Jackson, to the University Hospital, and you and I go in a little room and I get you off."

"Yeah, right."

"I wish it could be like that."

"Well, we'll see how cooperative the nurses are," I grinned, remembering the nurse in Memphis who'd overlooked the fact that the guys were taking care of me.

"Then I guess they just freeze your stuff until the right time."

"Meaning, when Deb is in her cycle."

"Yeah, I guess." He didn't say anything more and I felt as if he didn't really want to talk about it. "How about heading in?"

"Sure," I said, figuring I knew what was coming.

We stood naked on the dock, drying ourselves in the warm June sun. I saw Rick studying the scars that ran along my left leg, from the knee almost to the ankle.

He didn't say anything. A lone blue heron flew low over the water, crying as it glided by. The day had warmed up and the air was heavy. The humming of insects filled the air.

We walked up to the cabin, making no effort to cover ourselves, and into the slightly cooler interior. The open widows had allowed a continual if lazy breeze to waft through the cabin and all hints of the closed, musty smell were gone. The thin, cotton curtains flapped gently in the breeze and, without a word, Rick opened the sofa bed. I moved to the other side with a sheet and we spread it between us, tucking the edges in securely.

"You know what I want," he said matter-of-factly as he looked across the white expanse of the bed and into my eyes. I felt a pulse move through my body.

"I sort of guessed," I said as I reached for my gym bag and put it on a chair within easy reach.

Rick laid down on the bed, moving his solid body to the very center and then spreading his powerful legs. I moved to the foot of the bed and looked down at him. He spread his arms out straight to either side, waiting to enfold me.

He looked like a more massive, more muscular version of Leonardo da Vinci's Vitruvian Man. There were obvious differences, of course. The man in Leonardo's drawing stood vertically with his soft, relaxed penis hanging loosely over his descended testicles.

Rick was recumbent on the bed, his own cock hard and pulsing, jutting up over his flat belly, pointing toward his navel.

I gazed down at him, letting my eyes roam over his body, reveling in his beauty.

At twenty-two, Rick was probably at his physical peak. He was certainly at the peak of his physical beauty. As my eyes roamed over him I knew he was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. As I came to that realization, I also knew that the love I had felt for him had never died. I had buried it, perhaps, put it away, but it had been there over the last four years, waiting, ready to burst forth again with the slightest encouragement.

"Please, Rob," Rick whispered.

I knelt between his wide-spread legs and lowered my body onto his.

It felt so right. I was surprised by the amazing warmth of his body. Had I forgotten that? No but, like my love for him, the particulars of his being had been filed away. I had never known another man or woman who radiated heat the way Rick did. In anyone else I would have suspected a fever. With Rick it was just the result of his own amazing metabolism.

"I love you, Rick," I said.

"I love you, too."

I lowered my lips to his as his arms folded around me and his legs came up around my hips.

"Yes," he moaned before I silenced him.

We kissed gently, relearning our old ways, the little forgotten things we'd done, the tricks of lips and tongues, the linking up of souls.

I rose up a little, my eyes still locked on his. I bent over him to kiss his ears and make him tremble as I ran my tongue in one unbroken course down the side of his neck and then on over his shoulder, down across his quivering chest until my mouth found his left nipple and locked on it.

"Oh, Rob," he moaned.

I slid further down, over his stomach, as hard as bricks, down to his navel, probing it, down through the golden hair above his pulsing cock and then, in one swift, unbroken motion, taking him in all the way.

He gasped.

I sucked him hard, feeling his cock pulse in my throat, feeling his whole body respond.

I only let his cock slip from my mouth when I felt his climax building. I wasn't ready to let him come.

I put my hands behind his legs and lifted them up, pressing them back, until his knees were against his shoulders and his ass was exposed and vulnerable to my attack. Not yet, though. I would choose the time, I would keep him guessing, keep his body tensed, ready, wanting more.

I kissed his thighs, appraising their mass, their strength. His legs were massive, solid, cut, the muscles beautifully defined. I licked and kissed them, each one from knee to ankle and then back again. I could feeling him quiver under me.

With my eyes still locked on his, I moved down and lapped that tender space behind his balls.

I couldn't remember ever having my mouth there before. I breathed in Rick's aroma, male, clean, the river, the essences of life.

Without further warning or procrastination, I moved further down. With my lips slightly open and very wet, I kissed his pulsing ass. His eyes shot open and he mouthed my name. It was a whispered question, "Rob?"

I knew he was astounded by what I'd done, what I continued to do. I rose up a little, just so I could speak, reassure him, look more directly into his eyes.

"Relax, lover," I said. "Let me do this."

He relaxed a little, still shocked by the audacity of my mouth, of my mouth on that most private part of him. I lowered my lips to him again and let my tongue circle the pulsing rosebud of his ass, leaving him wet and shivering. His whole body shook.

"Oh, god, Rob," he moaned and I held him firmly and forced him to submit to my attack. I stiffened my tongue and probed a little, just to test his pliability. I felt him pulse again and then my tongue slipped in.

"Oh, Rob!"

I twisted my tongue, working it in further, finding him clean and sweet, the same Rick, just another part of him. I thrust in deeper, still twisting my tongue, really getting into it now, going deeper, twisting, laving him with my spit, my mouth locked over his hole, really eating his ass, going deeper than I'd ever gone with Steve or Daniel or Sammy, going as far as my mouth and tongue allowed.

"Oh, god, Rob," Rick moaned, "please stop, please don't make me come."

I pulled back a little and looked up at him. "Hold on, man," I growled. My own voice sounded strange to me, deep, rough, full of raw, animal lust.

"Please, Rob, please fuck me. I want your cock."

I rolled over and grabbed my bag off the chair, hurriedly rummaged in it for the suntan oil I'd brought, and moved up to kneel between his legs. We were both breathing hard, very hard.

I squirted some of the oil into the palm of my right hand and worked it over and into his gaping ass. The rest I spread over my own cock. Then, moving up a little, I pressed the hard, angry head of my cock against his ass and moved in.

Over the intervening years I had dreamed so many times of making love with Rick again. In my dreams it was always gentle, loving, sweet. But at that moment, as I drove my body into his, sweet and gentle were the furthest things from either of our minds. We were obsessed, besotted by our mutual lust.

I slapped my splayed hands on his shoulders and bore down, holding him with my own weight and as much force as I could muster. As I subdued his body with mine, I rammed my cock into his flared ass. There was no gentleness in the act, no subtlety, no attempt to use the physical merging of our bodies as an act of love. It was, instead, a harsh act of possession, of invasion, executed by me, but accepted willingly by him.

As the full length of my rigid cock impaled him, an almost eerie sound escaped Rick`s clenched teeth. "Yesss," he hissed. "Oh, yesss." His arms had clasped around me, holding my body to his. My chest was pressed firmly against his and the heat of his body radiated into mine.

I was shocked at my own brutality, at the roughness with which I'd taken him. Suddenly contrite, I stayed there, frozen, waiting, not knowing if after all the years since we'd last done this, his body could still take me without too much pain. I waited for some sign, some indication from him that I could begin. It came as a whimper, as a sigh.

"Yes, Rob, now," he said, is voice almost inaudible against the pounding of my heart.

I managed to be gentle now, pulling back slowly, then moved in again. His legs were around me, his heels digging into my buttocks like a warrior's spurs into his stallion. I was the rider, but it was Rick who spurred me on.

I slid back out again until the flared head of my cock was caught by the tight muscles of his sphincter, then, with no hesitation, I drove back in.

"Yeah," he moaned as our bodies merged.

Our rhythm was quickly established. It was as if the lessons we'd learned together so long ago were somehow imprinted in our brains, in our bodies, in that fused, single self we had been, were now again. I found myself losing all track of time.

That most powerful act of male union went on and on. I buried my face in Rick's shoulder, found myself sucking, biting on that so well remembered ridge of muscle which ran up over his shoulder to join with his neck.

We moved in concert, our bodies joined, fused. Sweat poured off us and our slick chests slid smoothly together. I'd forgotten the sounds of our lovemaking, the squish and slurp of my wet cock in his oozing ass, the sounds which we both made, way beyond words, animal, primitive, the ancient chant.

As if by some unspoken consent, we let the rhythm build. There was no attempt at subtlety, no attempt to delay or prolong. We let our bodies take control, moving towards the climax we both cried for. Subtlety would have to wait; for now, our needs were too great, too demanding.

The end was gradual, not the sudden climax which startles you, takes you off guard. We felt it coming and moved towards it, welcoming it. I felt the flexing of Rick's arms around me, the increased pressure of his heels against my rear. I felt my own body tense and my balls draw up.

There was a moan, a ragged cry and then we were both there. Rick's ass clinched down on my cock. I felt his infertile seed bolt out across our bellies and our chests. My own cock exploded in his gut, deep in his gut.

We sighed and our bodies seemed to fold in a little on ourselves. I felt his heat. Time passed. I may have dozed, still lying on him, his arms still holding me to him.

"I told you once I wished that you could make me pregnant, that I longed for you and me to have a child."

I was surprised when he spoke. I was still hovering in a kind of stupor, not yet fully aware or awake.

"I remember," I said, my voice not yet reliable.

"In some way, Rob," he whispered, "I feel as if that's what we've just done.