Absolute Convergence

Chapter Sixty-two
John Yager

This is the sixty-second chapter of an ongoing series. I have appreciated all the comments, questions and encouragement I've received from readers and hope to continue hearing from you. I try to answer all messages promptly. If I'm 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.

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I'd never seen Billy driving anything other than the studio vans, but wasn't too surprised to find he had a jeep parked outside the gym. It seemed like the right vehicle for him.

He followed me to Alvarado Court and parked in the street. Then, climbing in with me, we drove to a dinner he knew on Washington. We were both dressed in khaki shorts and polo shirts but the place was very informal so we were fine. There were a lot of kids there with less on than us but, hey, it was California.

While Billy downed a burger and fries, I settled for a salad and a big glass of milk. The place was busy and we didn't talk much. It was as if, by mutual consent, we just ate and left.

"I wish I could ask you back to my place, Rob," Billy said when we were back in the yellow Firebird. "You know I live at home so I don't have any privacy other than my bedroom."

"No problem, man," I assured him. "If you want to talk we can go to my place. I'll make a pot of coffee if you like."

"Yeah, that would be great," he grinned, and we headed back to Alvarado Court.

While Billy looked around, I started coffee and rummaged in the cupboard to find an unopened package of cookies. It wasn't fancy, but it was all I could manage. I reminded myself to lay in some nicer deserts, just in case I had future unexpected guests.

"This place is great, Rob," Billy said as he finished his rounds, looking at the books on my shelves and the few pictures I'd hung. "I sure wish I could get a place on my own."

"I guess it's hard while you are paying for your classes."

"Yeah, I do get some help with tuition from the studio. That's one real advantage of working for NBS, but it still costs, and I guess I'm better off saving by living with mom."

"Is she alone, apart from you being there?"

"Yeah, since dad died. I have an older sister, but she's married and has her own family. They live out in the Valley so we don't see them all that much."

"So you're an uncle."

"Yeah," he grinned, "two nieces. What about you?"

"None yet, but my older brother is engaged." I was tempted to say I might soon be a father, but there was really no way I wanted to get into that.

We were standing in the kitchen watching the coffee drip through and after a moment or two of silence, I turned to open the cookies and put them out on a serving plate.

"Rob," Billy said when I had my back to him, "can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Billy, what's on your mind?"

"Well, this is personal, and kind of embarrassing, and if it's out of line, just tell me to mind my own business."

"Okay, Billy, shoot."

"Well, are you seeing Nita Ball?"

It wasn't what I expected and I was sort of thrown by his question. My face suddenly felt hot and I realized I was blushing.

"Well, not exclusively, Billy, but yeah, a little. Why?"

"Oh, I don't mean to get into your personal life, but I couldn't help wondering." He was silent, but when I didn't say more, he went on. "I mean, she is older than you."

"Yeah."

"I guess you know she has a reputation for going after good looking younger guys."
"Well, yeah, you told me that."

"I mean, you wouldn't be dating her because you were looking for some sort of long-term relationship with her, right?"

"No, I guess a long-term relationship isn't in the picture with Nita, even if I wanted that."

"So . . . "

"Yeah?"

"Well, I guess it's just sex than."

"Wow, Billy, that's kind of blunt. I mean, yeah, on one level, but she is a nice lady and a lot of fun to be with."

We were silent again as the coffee finished brewing and I poured mugs for each of us. I put them, the sugar and milk pitcher on a tray with the cookies and carried it to the coffee table in the living room. It was only when we were seated at opposite ends of the sofa that Billy again spoke.

"So you like women," he said, not as a question, but as a simple statement of fact.

"Well, yeah."

There was further silence as he fixed his coffee, adding milk and sugar, finally taking a cookie from the plate.

"I sort of got the feeling you might be interested in guys." He finally came out with it while he munched the cookie and avoided looking directly at me.

"I got the same feeling about you."

He looked over at me with a horrified expression on his face.

"Oh, god! Was I that obvious?"

"Not swishy or anything, but you know, you learn to read the signs."

"So are you saying, 'it takes one to know one,' or something like that?"

"Yeah, Billy, something like that."

"Oh, shit!"

"Relax, man, it's okay. I won't give you away and I assume you won't go running to Nita to tell her she's screwing a fag."

He laughed, which had been my intent, and with the laughter, he began to relax.

"Gees, Rob, I really thought I'd put my foot in it."

"I get the feeling, Billy, that you've not been around a lot, sexually, I mean."

Now it was his turn to blush, and blush he did. A patch of bright red appeared high on each of his cheeks and didn't stop spreading from forehead to neck and from ear to ear.

"Apart from a friend in sixth grade, I've never had any sexual experience at all."

"How old were you then?"

"We'd both just turned thirteen."

"So at that age I guess you didn't really do much."

"Just touching, stroking each other. We did manage to get off."

"Did it go on long?"

"No, just a couple of months. It was at the end of the school year and that summer, right after school was out, Joe's family moved to Redding. We swapped letters for a while but then just lost touch."

"How old are you, Billy?"

"I just turned twenty-one in June. What about you?"

I laughed. "When's your birthday?"

"June 24, 1951, why?"

"Hey, man, I've got seniority," I said, leaning over to give him a playful blow on the shoulder. I was born on June 19, 1951."

"So I guess you think five days gives you the right to boss me around," he said, punching me back.

"Damn right," I grinned, grabbing him around the shoulders and tried to pin him to the sofa. He was strong and agile and my move didn't work, despite the advantage of surprise. We were both grappling and trying to get some sort of advantage. In the process, we rolled off the sofa and ended up on the floor. We were also both laughing uproariously like a couple of kids.

We were rolling on the floor, laughing and grabbing, but it wasn't serious, not the kind of wrestling Roger Bardwell engaged in. For one thing, we were fully clothed, even though our shorts and shirts were quickly getting twisted into knots, exposing a lot of skin.

We ended up on the carpet between the coffee table and the door to the kitchen. At one point I got him from behind in a less than regulation Nelson, and grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it off.

"No fair," he groused, still laughing.

I grabbed my own shirt with my one free hand and wiggled out of it.

"Okay?" I laughed, "now we're even."

We played around for a little more but I was just enough bigger and just enough stronger to pin him without too much effort when I'd had enough. I got him on his back and pinned him flat on the floor, sitting over his crotch with my knees on either side of his hips. With my weight on his midsection and my hands on his shoulders, I was able to keep him down. He thrashed around a little more but soon gave up.

His chest rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath. We were both covered with a thin film of sweat and as I looked down at his muscular torso I thought again how hot he looked.
"Uncle?"

He grinned and shook his head. His arms were more or less free and he was pummeling my shoulders, not painfully, but playfully. As he joggled me, I moved from side to side. I began to sense that our movements were causing both our bodies to respond.

My own cock was hard in my shorts and, sitting on his crotch the way I was, I could feel his cock under me, hard and increasingly damp, and separated from my ass by only a couple of layers of thin fabric.

"You better say it, buddy," I laughed, "or I'll make life difficult for you."

"Aunt."

"Okay, mister," I grinned, "you asked for it."

I don't know what Billy expected. I think he was anticipating my trying to tickle him or something. His body tensed up, ready for whatever I planned to do. I just leaned down and pressed my lips to his.

Billy's eyes shot open as wide as they'd go. I had my eyes on his and never blinked. After a few seconds I felt his body relax. His arms, which had been attacking me, came up to embrace me and pull me down even more forcefully against him.

He tasted of hamburger and ketchup and raw onion. I didn't mind.

I ran my tongue over his lips and he got the point, opening slightly to me. I pressed my tongue into his mouth just far enough to tease it over the edges of his teeth. Then I backed away again, my eyes still fixed on his.

"Uncle?" I said again.

"Aunt," he shot back.

"Not the right answer, William," I laughed and lowered my mouth to cover his again. We were like a couple of teenage kids, playing a game, but knowing it was a lot like playing with matches.
This time I didn't have to ask. Billy's mouth came open under the pressure of my lips and his tongue came looking for mine. The boy was a quick learner.

I slid back a little so by rocking my hips I was clearly working his cock. If he thought it was an accident before, he knew now I was intentionally stimulating him. He started to groan and his hips lifted, thrusting into me.

My rear rode over his cock and his cock was pressing against my ass. As best as I could tell, his cock was sticking up against his stomach, threatening to poke past the waistband of his shorts. Mine was in a similar position, hard up against my belly, and the head had just made it by the elastic to peek out in plain sight.

He twisted his head, breaking the kiss and gasped, "please stop, Rob. I'm going come."

"I said I'd make life difficult for you."

"Oh, god, Rob, please stop."

"No way, not till you say uncle."

I rose up a little and then bore down again, rocking my rear over him, and suddenly it was too late. His eyes shot wide open again and I felt his cock throb under me. Suddenly his flimsy shorts were soaked, the front of them wet with his hot seed.

He gasped and then gasped again. I felt my own cock pulse, despite the workout it had gotten over the last twenty-four hours, and then ribbons of my own hot come were shooting up over my chest.

We stayed in that position for several moments longer, me looking down into Billy's eyes and his eyes staring back at mine. Our breathing returned to something like normal.

Then I felt the gentle pressure of Billy's hands on my back as he coaxed me down onto him again. I let my full weight rest on him. My sticky seed cemented us together. I found his lips and kissed them, gently now, our passions spent.

Our kisses were easy now, slow, sporadic, with little pauses in between. We murmured, but for a while we didn't really speak. It was Billy who formed the first intelligible words.

"That was so nice, Rob, so nice."

"You're not going to be bothered by it?"

"No," he said softly, then after a minute, he again said, "no."

"Good then."

"Thank you."

"Do you think maybe we should clean up?"

"My shorts are a mess."

"So's your chest," I grinned, running one finger down between his pectoral muscles, where a drying trail of my own seed still clung. "Come on, we'll take a shower and I'll find you some clean shorts."

I rose and then offered him a hand, pulling him up from the floor. When we were facing one another, he reached out gently and touched my chest where the now nearly dry goo rested. He ran his finger tip through it and then slowly moved it to his mouth. His eyes still fixed on mine, he licked his finger clean.

"Um," he said.

"Have you tasted you own?"

"Yeah, but I think I like yours better."

I folded him into my arms, holding him close. His face nuzzled into my left shoulder and he began to kiss me there.

"Thank you," he murmured again. His body was trembling.

"Sure, man," I whispered as I turned a little so I could kiss his ear.

After a few minutes the trembling subsided and then a moment later he whispered, "I guess I really need that shower."

"Come on."

I led him back down the hallway to my bedroom and pulled off my shorts. Billy just stood there looking at me. After a minute, I went over to where he was still standing, just inside the door, and gently pulled his own shorts down and off.

Then, slipping by him, I went into the bathroom and turned on the water so water would get warm and I could adjust the temperature. When I looked back over my shoulder Billy was standing naked in the bathroom door.

"Get in," I said, and he stepped by me and over the high edge of the tub. I fumbled for our messy shorts, which I'd dropped on the floor, tossed them into the wash basin and stepped into the tub with him.

He was still numb and when I'd closed the shower curtain and reached out to rub soap over his chest, his body felt clammy and cold.

I gently lathered up the soap and washed his body, starting with his chest. I wasn't sure how bold to be, but he made no move to stop me. I lathered his arms and shoulders and then moved down over his stomach to his crotch. His cock was extended but soft and I took it gently in my hands, washing it as I'd wash my own.

"Turn around," I whispered and he turned. I washed his back, running my fingers down over his rear and sliding them slowly into his crack. He shuddered but still said nothing. I felt the pucker of his ass, but left it quickly, fearing I'd really spook him if I went too far.
 

"Trade places," I said when I was finished and we turned together so he was under the shower.

As the water cascaded over his shoulders, rinsing him off, he reached out and took the soap. Still without speaking, he did for me what I'd done for him. He washed my chest and arms, moved down to gently wash my cock, which, unlike his, responded quickly to his touch, coming to full attention. He stroked it a little, smiled at me, and stopped.

I turned around and leaned forward, resting my splayed hands on the tile wall of the tub enclosure and thrusting my rear back toward him, just as he'd done in the gym showers earlier when I'd rubbed the acne lotion over his back.

He reached over me to wash my shoulders, which brought his crotch into contact with my rear. I felt his still soft cock press against my left hip as he spread the soap suds over my back. When he'd worked his way down to my ass, he did as I'd done, working his fingers down the length of my crack. I felt him touch my pucker and stop. He moved in a little, clearly curious. I thrust back a little and he took the hint, letting the tip of his finger press in.

Slick with soap, Billy gently pressed his finger into my hole. He went in about half the length of his finger and twisted it around slowly, as if he were exploring. It felt like the way a doctor examines you, not like a guy getting ready to fuck.

I stood still and let him do what he wanted, ready for what came. After a minute or two, he seemed to have satisfied his curiosity and he slowly pulled his finger out, gently as if he was afraid of hurting me.

I turned and looked back at him over my shoulder while still leaning forward acquiescently.

"Finished?"

"Yeah."

I stood up and turned around. We did our little dance again so that I was under the shower.

When I'd thoroughly rinsed, I turned off the water, opened the curtain and reached out for a couple of towels.

We stood there in the tight space drying off and then stepped out onto the mat to finish the process. I wrapped my towel around my waist and Billy followed my example.

"More coffee?" I asked. I thought as I said it, that it sounded like the most inane question I'd ever heard.

But Billy said, "sure," and we traipsed back down the hallway to the kitchen. I could tell by the smell alone that the pot I'd made earlier had gone stale, so I poured the last of it out and started a new batch. Leaning back against the counter with my towel covered ass against the edge, I looked over at Billy, who was still standing in the door, leaning slightly with his right shoulder against the jam.

"Thank you," he said again, his voice little more than a whisper.

"Sure, man. You thanked me before."

"I know, but it was so amazing, Rob. I just can't stop thinking about it."

I was silent for a moment, gathering my thoughts, trying to understand where he was coming from. In my mind what we'd done, what I'd done, actually, wasn't even real sex. It was playing around, getting off, I guess, but not even manual, let alone oral or anal. Billy was clearly coming from another place and it made me feel very responsible.

"Really, Billy, it was just goofing around. You probably did that kind of thing with your buddy, Joe, in the sixth grade.

"Well, yeah, but doing it with you was a lot more intense."

"I just don't want you to get bent out of shape," I said as the last of the water ran through the filter and the coffee maker gave a little sigh.

"That isn't going to happen."

"You can't be sure, Billy," I said as I went off to find our mugs. As I squeezed by him, he reached out and touched my shoulder, turning a little to let me through. When I returned from the living room he'd moved over to the little kitchen table and sat silently as I filled the mugs. "Come on, let's go back to the living room. The sugar and cream and stuff is still in there."

He followed but didn't set down.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, but I don't want to sit on your sofa with this damp towel."

"You're right, come on."

We walked back to the bedroom and I pulled open a drawer. Half a dozen pairs of shorts lay there for him to choose from.

"Take you pick."

"Are these okay?" He'd pulled out a khaki pair almost identical to the ones he'd been wearing.

"Sure."

"In case mom's still up when I get home," he grinned as he pulled them on.

"She'll never know the difference," I grinned. "Leave yours here and I'll toss them in the washing machine when I do my laundry."

"Really, Rob? That would help."

"Yeah, putting yours in the hamper where your mom might see them might raise a few questions."

I pulled on a clean pair of blue denim cut-offs and we went back to the living room where Billy found his crumpled polo shirt and pulled it on.

We sat for a while trying to make conversation but it was somehow strained and we never really got to the topic I knew we both wanted to discuss.

After about half an hour and a couple of cookies, Billy said it was getting a little late and he guessed he should go.

"I'll bring your shorts to the gym Tuesday afternoon, if you think you'll be there.

"Great, Rob," he smiled as we stood by my door. "Thank you."

I leaned forward and gave him a gentle kiss. He was smiling happily as he went on his way.

To be continued.