Date: Sun, 13 Feb 2011 13:50:22 -0800 (PST) From: Damian Subject: Everybody Loves Joe Hartman - Part 3 This is the continuation of a story about Peter and Joe, next door neighbors in Iowa whose long-time friendship undergoes an unexpected turn of events. No minors were harmed in the writing of this story, but if you are one please go find something else to do. Please do not reproduce this story in any form without the permission of the author. -- Damian PART 3 I had plenty of solitary time to think about the "afternoon delight" that Joe and I had just experienced. He came down with a bad cold over the next few days and wanted to wait till he was well to get together again. We talked on the phone a few times, but it was several days before he felt like he was past the contagious stage. By the time he was well again, he'd been cooped up in his house and wanted to get out, so he asked if we could go to a restaurant we sometimes go to. I said, "Sure." Joe was strangely quiet over dinner. He wanted me to do most of the talking, so I just talked about my job and the weather. It had been unseasonably warm lately, but a storm front was moving in, they said. We talked about some TV shows we'd both watched. We talked about everything but IT -- the elephant in the room that neither of us seemed inclined to acknowledge. It was kind of awkward, but I really enjoyed being able to spend time with Joe again over dinner and drinks. I had missed being with him. "Would you like to come back to my place for dessert, Peter?" he suggested as the waitress cleared our table. It was an invitation I'd been hoping all evening to hear. We heard distant thunder as we pulled into my driveway and parked in my garage. The wind was picking up quickly, and it was dark -- except for the occasional lightning strike that lit up the night like a million stars. The long Indian summer we'd been having was colliding with a cold front, creating a very unusual weather system. We walked over to Joe's house and entered through the back door. We'd both knocked back a couple of strong drinks and were feeling no pain. I probably shouldn't have been driving, but it was a short drive and there was little traffic. Joe offered me a piece of store-bought cherry pie and some ice cream -- my favorite dessert -- and made some coffee, and we sat down at his kitchen table. We didn't say much. The tension in the room grew in direct proportion to the sound of the thunder, which was getting closer and more frequent. I caught him looking at me whenever I looked up, but he said little and I said less. When he got up to clear his dishes to the sink, I followed him with mine and set them down. I stood close behind him as he ran some water over the dishes. I finally found the courage somewhere deep inside of myself to put my hands on his shoulders and gave them a playful squeeze. "Peter, I..." He didn't get the rest of his words out before we were facing each other. Suddenly we were in each other's arms, hugging tightly -- with Joe's body wedged between my own and the kitchen countertop. He raised his head, and my lips found their way to his, and we kissed tentatively. We hadn't done that before, so this was a major escalation -- a silent acknowledgment of our new love for each other. When we were both convinced that the other wanted the same thing, the kissing ceased to be tentative and became urgent and direct. As the winds howled and the rain started coming down in sheets outside, the lights went out in the house -- the storm had caused a sudden power outage. But the electricity between Joe and me was real and would not be denied. We kissed with pent-up emotion, hungrily -- it was clear we'd both been wanting this for a very long time but had never had the courage to express it in this way before. Stepping away from the sink, Joe took my hand and silently led me down the hall in the darkness to his bedroom. The ever faithful Rusty was at our heels, but he discreetly took a place on the floor at the foot of the bed. The rain outside was now coming down in torrents, and I knew it was useless to think about going home tonight. Besides, "home" was wherever Joe was now -- storm or no storm. We undressed each other in the dark and slipped under the covers and held each other tightly as we explored each other's bodies with eager hands. I awoke in the middle of the night, with my butt spooned against Joe's tummy and his arms around my chest. The storm had long since abated, along with our pent-up libidos. I smiled as I thought of the feel of Joe's mouth engulfing my rigid cock a few hours ago. It had been his first time to love another man that way, but he performed like a pro -- bringing me to the brink of release several times before allowing me to fill his mouth with my man juice. The final buildup and my ejaculation were so intense that I nearly blacked out and couldn't breathe for a few seconds. No one had ever brought me so much pleasure before. The best part was that I knew it was not just an act of sex but an act of love -- he was trying to show me how much he cared about me, and he succeeded beyond my wildest dreams. It was several minutes before I regained enough strength to return the favor. Joe was still hard as a rock, and I made love to him the way he had just made love to me -- tenderly, eagerly, enthusiastically. As the rain beat against his bedroom windows, he released his sweet cum into my mouth, and I gratefully swallowed his gift like he had swallowed mine minutes before. I don't remember a thing about what happened next. I must have fallen instantly asleep, as did Joe, and I didn't wake up until hours later. I managed to disentangle myself from his arms long enough to go to the bathroom. When I returned to bed, Joe was still deeply asleep. The power had come back on as we slept, and his bedside clock was flashing 12:00. The red glow from it illuminated his face, and I marveled at how handsome he was and how lucky I was to be sharing my friend's bed overnight for the first time. I drifted off to sleep again and didn't reawaken till morning. "Good morning, sleepy head," I heard as my eyes popped open. Joe must have been looking at me the same way I had been looking at him in the middle of the night. There was joy in his eyes. "What time is it, Joe?" I mumbled groggily. "Well, the clock's been showing 12:00 for quite a while now, so I don't really know." He picked up his watch from the bedside table. It was 7:45. "How long have you been awake, Joe?" "Long enough to make some coffee. Can I bring you some?" "I don't want to spill it in your bed -- let's go to the kitchen." I threw off my sheet and blanket, exposing my morning wood to Joe's interested eyes. He reached out and touched it, and I felt a jolt throughout my body. We were both still naked. I went to the bathroom to relieve my bladder once more -- something that Joe had apparently already taken care of. He watched me from the bathroom door as my piss emerged and yellowed the water in the bowl. It was erotic to have someone watch me pee through my half-hard log, and I could see in the mirror that Joe's eyes were on it the whole time. I flushed, washed my hands, and dropped to the floor on my knees as I surprised Joe with another oral assault on his own log. He grabbed the back of my head as I sucked on his rod until he came with a loud moan. For an "old" guy, Joe proved to have a quick recovery period. "You're insatiable, my friend," he said, after he regained his composure. "That was amazing!" "Now that I've had my morning `juice'-- wasn't something said about a cup of coffee?" I said with a grin, lapping up the few drops of Joe juice I had missed. We threw on some t-shirts and boxers and walked to the kitchen hand in hand -- with the ever-present Rusty accompanying us. Unlike last night, we freely talked over coffee and rolls at Joe's kitchen table. "Well," I started. "What can I say -- our friendship seems to have taken a turn lately, hasn't it? I'm not sure what this means." I was deliberately leaving the door open for him to take the conversation wherever he was comfortable taking it. He looked down at his coffee cup for a moment, as if thinking about how he wanted to respond. "It has, hasn't it, Peter? This is something I...never expected." "Me either, Joe. Are you sorry? I'm not...not at all." "Peter, I need to get something out in the open...something I've kept inside for a very long time. I loved Evie -- we had a wonderful marriage. But...there was always something missing. But back when we got married, men with...feelings...toward other men...didn't really have many options. "I had a friend...Dennis was his name. We were best buddies in high school. I guess I, well, kind of fell in love with him. We went our separate ways in college, and then he got drafted and sent to Vietnam. I didn't have to go -- my flat feet kept me out. Denny was injured badly over there. When he got home, he wasn't the same person. I saw him a few times, but he seemed indifferent to everything...even our friendship. Sometimes he'd lash out at me when I tried to help him and not realize how much it hurt me. Finally I got to the point where I couldn't take it anymore and stopped visiting him. "My life felt so empty then. I'd loved him for a long time, but I couldn't keep it up -- he wasn't the same person anymore." "Did you ever...you know...do anything sexual with him?" "Yes. We got naked together one night in high school. I was sleeping over at his house, and it was hot, with no air conditioning in the house. I'd never seen him naked before, and it really...turned me on. I got a hard-on and he noticed before I could cover it up. We started wrestling on his bed and he wound up on top of me, pressing his dick into mine. By then he was hard, too. I pretended to fight him off, but I really enjoyed the feel of his body on mine for the first time. He grabbed our cocks and rubbed them together. I couldn't believe it was happening -- like a dream come true. He began touching me all over and looking into my eyes with this...this expression that could only be described as teenage lust. "Next thing I knew he was bending over and licking my cock and playing with my balls. I came so fast that he was caught off guard and got quite a mouthful. He actually swallowed it!" "What happened next?" I asked, feeling my own hard-on returning. "What do you think? I wanted to taste him, too, so we traded places and I went down on him. He was so good-looking, Peter, and I had wanted him so badly but never had the courage to act on it until then. "After that night we got together whenever we could find some time and privacy -- our parents would've been mortified to know what we were doing together. This went on for over a year. I dreamed of the day when we could get an apartment together after we finished college, but then Denny got drafted...and you know the rest. It wasn't meant to be, I guess. "By this time I was feeling pressure from my family to settle down and get married. Evie and I had known each other in college, and I asked her to marry me. She was thrilled, and -- like I said -- we were very happy together. "But every time I saw someone who reminded me of Denny I got those old feelings again. I'd think of how we used to get each other off -- we would never have called it making love back in those days -- and I'd ache for the touch of another man. I'd think about Denny -- naked and hard -- when I'd make love to Evie. It wasn't right, but it was the only way I could get off. She never knew. I did love her, but I had to pretend to enjoy the sex we had. It just wasn't the same as I'd had with Denny -- not even close. "Then you moved in next door, Peter, and I found myself drawn to you. I used to fantasize about what you might look like with no clothes on. Did you ever suspect?" "Never, Joe. Really? You sure didn't let on. You must've been rather surprised when you caught me that way a few days ago in my bathroom. I know I was!" "Yes, I have to admit that it shook me up to catch you standing there like that after your towel fell off. Your body is so beautiful. And after I went home that night, I saw you in your recliner masturbating." Joe looked away, as if embarrassed at his own candor. "I think maybe I've talked enough for now," he continued after a slight pause. "Will you tell me your story now?" I took a deep breath and plunged ahead, not knowing exactly what would come out of my mouth. I'd never told a soul before, but then Joe had just bared his for the first time. That gave me some courage. "Well, my story is not unlike yours, Joe, except that I never had a Denny when I was young. I guess I knew I was gay, but I'd been afraid to act on it. I lived with my folks, and they were super conservative. I starting dating this girl named Gwen when I was 19, and she lured me into marriage only a year later. I didn't really want to do it, but she was very persuasive and my folks loved her. She saw me as her ticket away from her very controlling parents. "The marriage was practically over before it even started. Gwen was frustrated with my inadequate and infrequent attempts at sex, and we decided to go our separate ways after she had had enough of my lack of interest in her. I was relieved on the one hand but embarrassed to be divorced at such an early age. "I got an apartment in Des Moines for a couple of years and started cruising gay bars up there. I found that lifestyle rather unfulfilling -- even a little repugnant after a while. Then I finally met another guy who had recently moved to Chariton, and he coaxed me into moving back down here to live with him. We were open about it with my parents, but I know it was a bit hard for them to deal with. "It was fun with Roger for a while, but then my life really began to unravel. My parents died in a private plane crash, and I sort of fell apart. Roger and I had been together six months and I thought he loved me, but I didn't get the compassion I needed from him after the accident. I think all he saw were dollar signs from the fact that my folks had some money and I was an only child. "When I finally woke up to what he was really like, I dropped him like a hot potato, and he moved back to wherever he came from. I didn't want to go back to Des Moines, so I decided to stay here in Chariton and buy the house next to you, Joe. I was fed up with relationships at that point and retreated into myself. A few years later the Internet came along, and I got my jollies from cruising gay porn sites. I figured it was safer than exposing myself to more hurt and pain from meeting real people. "You and Evie were about the only real friends I've had here -- you were so good to me and didn't pry into why I was living alone all these years or try to fix me up with anyone. I really respected you for that. "Then when Evie died last spring I became totally dependent on my friendship with you. I knew I was attracted to you on some level, but I never let myself think about it too much since I figured you were straight as an arrow. Then I guess in the past few days, I've, uh, learned otherwise -- huh, Joe?" "I played the straight card for 40 years, Peter -- even though it was against my true nature. Even after Evie died, I didn't expect to give in to my long-shelved yearnings. I thought I was too old, I guess. Plus, I was scared to put myself on the line." "You're never too old, Joe. In fact, you're not old at all. You've got a lot of good years left in you, my man -- years that I wish you'd spend with me. That is, if you're interested." Joe's face dropped into his hands there at the table, and he didn't respond. My heart was sinking -- had I gone too far too fast for him? I searched for something to say to fill the void. "Do you want some time alone, Joe? Maybe I should get dressed and come back later." "No, Peter, please stay. I just feel so overwhelmed right now. It's only been six months since I lost Evie. I did love her, and I need some more time to get over losing her. I think the world of you, and I don't regret anything we've done, but...can we just...take things a little slowly for a while?" "Sure, Joe. You set the pace, and I'll follow your lead. Just know that I'm always here for you, whenever you need me." "That'll be often, my friend," he said, squeezing my hands in his over the table. "Often indeed." (To be continued. Nifty authors like to hear from their readers. Please take a moment to send your feedback to me at nvtahoeus@yahoo.com. Give me your first name and location, if you would. To deal with spam I delete messages that don't have something in the subject line. Thanks for reading my story! Damian)