Written By: Justin Case
Edited By: Ed
June 1, 2001
SoapBox: Well, hello, my peeps! How the hell is it hanging? I like mine to hang straight down; I hate a challenge. Here we go, a new one for you, in a new place too. Yep, yep, that's right! This story is about relationships; I have worked hard on honing my skills to please you. Please, this is my first attempt at this kind of story, so write me your thoughts, often. I love getting e-mail; the address is Justin69Sk@aol.com
I want to thank the many of you that view my website, located at http://Justinscorner.homestead.com and reading the stories there too. I hope you write the others that I have posted for you, and let them know your thoughts. I am still looking for a few more first time writers to round out the site. If you'd like to send me something for consideration, please do.
It is with great sadness that I must tell you, this Saturday, June 2, 2001, I end my regular appearances to my chat room. I will be there June 2, but it will be hit or miss after that. I am sorry, but my real life has become busy. I will miss the ones that have joined me regularly, but I still am available at my AOL address for private chats. You may have to wait your turn, because sometimes many chime in at once. Thanks again for your constant support. Love to you all! As always, but not forever. Just, Justin <>\
"Paul, it's been three years now, what are you waiting for?" the shorter man, standing a few feet away from the man at the kitchen sink, asked, dripping with sarcasm.
Paul was approaching his late thirties; his straight brown hair was beginning to show some gray at the temples. His deep set brown eyes, with the bushy eyebrows, traveled around the room in his feeble attempt to hedge the inevitable. His six foot-two inch frame leaned back; he used his long lanky arms to hold the counter behind him. Finally, he knew what he would say.
"Marty, I know you're right, but he's my son, my only son. I just don't know how to tell him, that's all," Paul defended himself.
"Paul, I've known you since high school. I have supported everything you do. I was your best fucking man, for crying out loud. Let's not forget that tragic day. You know, and I know, that the bitch is going to cause problems. Why you ever married her is beyond me," the attractive thirty-five year old with jet-black hair, tried to reason.
"I know, but what do I say? Paul asked, his smooth face red with embarrassment.
"Geesh, Paul, you're six foot-two, one hundred and ninety pounds, you have everything going for you. You have a great career; you're making a ton of money. Why should this be so difficult for you? I mean, damn, you own your own contracting business, you have seventeen employees. You don't have any trouble telling them what to do. Why should one sixteen year old be so much trouble?" Marty pushed on.
"Oh, I suppose I just say, `By the way, Jeremy, I'm getting married again, to Marty,' nonchalantly. He's my son, he may not understand, I've never told him about us," Paul tried to explain; his eyes darted toward his feet.
Marty slowly took a few steps across the almond colored tile floor, his tanned arms outreached to embrace Paul. The red Polo half-sleeved shirt that clung to his slender torso made his tanned skin look darker. His khaki Dockers swished with his movements. He kept his sky blue eyes fixated on Paul's, his thin pink lips pursed over his tightly closed mouth.
"Look, Paul, I know it must be hard for you. Do you really think Jeremy doesn't have a clue? I mean, we've been living together since the divorce. Don't you think he sees the way we look at each other? He's been here with us on the weekends going on three years. He's not exactly stupid." Marty reached his arms around Paul, as he tried to comfort him.
Paul looked down, he was tired, and his eyes reflected his exhaustion as he closed them to receive the kiss that Marty gave him. He put his arms around his best friend and roommate and hugged him. He knew in his mind that he had to say something, he just didn't know quite what to say. He had been a star athlete in high school, and in college. He was a `man's man,' no one really knew of his sexual preference, except for Marty and his ex-wife, Allyson.
Paul thought about his life, while the two lovers embraced. He thought about his seventeen years of marriage to Allyson. He thought about his days on the football field, as a quarterback. He ran videotapes through his mind, of his workers, his mother, the people he had grown up with, and the reactions they would have to his marrying Marty. Everyone in Oakdale knew him, and would never accept him the way he `really' was. He had to take the biggest step in his life but he knew, deep down inside, it was the right thing to do.
"I love you, Paul, I really do. I will be patient, but you and I both know that unless we do this, legally we aren't a couple. What happens if you die, God forbid; this is your father's house, you inherited it. Where will that leave me? I know that sounds selfish, but it's true. On the other hand, if I get sick and can't work, you know you depend on my salary to hold us over. What do we do then? I don't make the rules, but we have to live by them," Marty crystallized the facts.
"Marty, I love you, that's first and foremost in why I asked you to marry me. I know you're right about the other things, but, you just have to be patient with me," Paul sighed, as he expressed his feelings.
"Paul, we're supposed to be married in less than a month. We've been lovers for over twenty years. When can we just be ourselves, comfortable with who we are?" Marty asked, his eyes watering.
"Ah, Marty, I love you. That's all that matters. To hell with Allyson and the rest, it's fucking 2001, being gay is just another thing. Fuck `em all if they don't accept us, as long as you and I are together, that's really all that matters," Paul rationalized, trying to convince himself as he said what he truly felt.
"Let's take him out to dinner, then maybe a movie, he'll be here tonight, it's Friday. We can tell him together. What do you think?" Marty's voice, seemingly filled with excitement, rang in Paul's ears.
"What about Joanna? He's bound to have her over, you know he's in love," Paul wondered.
"We agreed we'd tell Jeremy first, it's up to him to tell his friends. I can't wait to tell Allyson," Marty chuckled, as he finished his answer.
"I just may let you do that. You can tell her while I'm away, and then call me with her reaction." Paul fondly grabbed Marty's butt in his two hands, as he said it.
"I would, you know I would. Shit, can you see Leslie's face? The two of them may have to come out. Actually, it would be just like the fish to do it, just to spite us," Marty rattled off.
"Gee, Marty, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were a cynic." Paul grinned, almost ear to ear.
"Naw, just a realist," Marty curtly responded.
"Well, I really love you, and that's all that matters. I got some time before my next meeting," Paul smoothly said, his voice full of invitation.
"You do. Fancy that. What did you have in mind?" Marty asked wantonly.
"You," came Paul's simple answer.
Marty grabbed Paul's hand as he led him out of the kitchen into the dining room, and crept up the stairs to their bedroom. Neither said a word as they made their way to the inner sanctum of the world that existed for them.
Paul shoved the door closed as they walked into the darkened bedroom; the shades were always drawn. He cast his gaze onto his lover in the red shirt, as he unbuttoned slowly and with purpose. After he removed the cotton shirt, he unbuckled the one-inch wide belt around Marty's waist, and gracefully pulled down the beige trousers. On his knees, he stared into the crotch of the white-boxers-clad man he had loved almost his entire life. He gently pushed his right hand into the slit of the underwear and groped at his younger lover's genitals.
Paul slipped the four inch soft cock out of the slot with his right hand, he licked at its sculptured head of the penis with his wetted tongue. He gently massaged Marty's cum-filled sac, and rolled the large testicles around with his left hand. He could smell Marty's sweat, along with some dried urine that had dripped from the cut cock after it pissed, and dried on the cotton cloth. The musky scents clung to his nostrils, as he sucked the prick into his hot mouth.
"Mmmm, yeah. Suck it slow." Marty eased out the words to Paul.
Paul drew the hardening member into his mouth. He twisted the half-hard cock in his right hand as he sucked with all his might on it. He had one thing in mind, the hot, sweet juice that would shoot down his throat. He began tugging at the large jiz-filled sac in his left hand while he slid his mouth down the rigid prick. He was obsessed with desire. He gripped the velvety hot cock in his right hand; he stroked the saliva-slimy cock with it, in unison to his sucking mouth. As he shoved his head down onto the rock hard dick, he slid his hand behind it. He forced the six-inch rod into his waiting mouth; he felt his throat as it began to gag.
"OOOooo, yeah, babe, nice and slow, that's it," Marty said, as his hips involuntarily thrust toward the waiting lips of his lover.
Paul gripped the cock in his right hand, he pushed Marty back with his head. He wanted to make this last; he wanted to lie next to his lover in the bed. Paul wanted to feel Marty's body next to his, the warmth of his skin pressed against his own. He let go of Marty's balls, and practically ripped his own shirt off. His nipples were swollen with excitement; they wanted to be rubbed. He began to shove at Marty's naked body, and force it to the mattress.
The two tumbled onto the bed, Paul still had his pants on, and his cock was raging inside to be released. He gripped at Marty's hips with both his hands, as he plunged down onto the cock with his mouth. He took his right hand away from the pumping body of his lover, and grabbed for his own belt. Paul fought against his rapid movements as he undid his pants. His own six and a half-inch cock was bursting to be touched.
Marty drew his feet up and used them to push Paul's slacks down his hairless legs. He frantically gripped at Paul's tight white jockey shorts with his hands and forced them down his thighs, then he again used his feet to slide them down to Paul's shins. He then wrapped his hand around Paul's hard dick and slowly jerked on it.
"Oh, yeah, Marty, that's it," Paul moaned.
Marty twisted and contorted his body, so his head was at Paul's manhood. He pushed downward on his lover's hard cock so its head brushed against his lips. He flicked his long pink tongue along the ridge of the cut cock.
The two friends sucked each other off, as they had done for almost twenty-five years. They both knew what the other wanted; they both knew what to do. The first time they ever were sucked off was by each other; no one could make them feel the way they made each other feel. Not even close.
The now naked bodies bucked at each other, as their building climaxes mounted. The bedroom began to smell like a men's locker room as the smell from their bodies intermingled.
Paul sucked on Marty's dick and jerked it with his hand, as Marty did the same to Paul. Marty could feel the hard cock in his mouth as it bulged with each burst of cum. Paul fucked his lover's mouth deeper as his dick spewed his thick hot cum. Marty pushed his hips with all his strength as he shot his long stream of cum into Paul's waiting lips.
Spent and totally relaxed, the two men fell back onto the bed. Their panting was the only sound that could be heard, as they both rolled onto their backs. A slight breeze blew through the windows, rattling the paper shades.
"Oh, that was great," Paul was able to say, after catching his breath.
Marty turned over on his side; he cast his blue eyes into his lover's brown ones, and let out a long breath. Then he wrapped his arms around Paul's back and pulled him close. Marty was beginning to be able to breathe regularly; he didn't smoke like Paul. He bit his lower lip.
"So, is tonight the night?" Marty whispered hopefully.
"Yes, tonight is the night. I'll call him," Paul conceded.
"I love you, Paul," Marty quietly reiterated.
"I love you, Marty," Paul replied, and then stared up at the ceiling.
The two lay side by side for several minutes, not another word was spoken aloud, but their minds were in overdrive as they contemplated the outcome of the announcement. If it weren't for the birds squawking outside the open window, only their soft breaths would be heard.
I don't know, I hope you like it, but it is kind of early. Let me know, I only do this for you. Eventually, we are going to meet Allyson and Leslie, and Jeremy and Joanna. Allyson is Paul's ex-wife, she and Leslie are an item; we think. Jeremy is Paul's teenage son. Joanna has her own little history, but you'll just have to read more to find out.
Write me if you like, Justin69SK@aol.com is the address.
Thanks, Ed, for the fine editing.
As always, but not forever.