’sup with you, dude?
© 2016
by
Jonathan Longhorn
Copyright © 2016 by Jonathan Longhorn (jonathan_longhorn at yahoo dot com). All rights reserved. Except for the use of less than two pages in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means is forbidden without the express written permission of the author. Express permission is granted to The Nifty Erotic Stories Archive for storage, indexing, retrieval, and display of this work.
Disclaimer: The material in this work is for mature audiences only and contains graphic sexual content and language. It is intended only for those aged 18 and older. All of the characters in this work are assumed to be at least 18 years of age.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and settings are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, names, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental. In the real world having sex without using a condom can be very dangerous to your health. Don’t ruin your life or your future. Slip it on before you slip it in.
Note: There are some references in this story and others, to things mentioned in another of my stories, Target Nemesis: The Tentacle Lord’s Revenge, which you can find here: http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/target-nemesis-the-tentacle-lords-revenge.html. The story itself is about the movie being watched by characters in several of my stories in which an alien warlord bent on revenge, ‘has his way’ with an Earth Forces Brigade hero. While I hope that you would enjoy reading that story, it may be a bit brutal for some readers and you do not need to read that story first in order to understand or to enjoy this story.
All trademarks used in this work are the sole property of their owners and have been used without permission or endorsement.
Chapter 7
Cayce stared at the towel-clad, muscle-cut body in front of him. He could almost feel the sigh that came from the sculptor that had chiseled this … this … ‘god’ standing before him. Mission accomplished. Task conquered. Stunning masterpiece completed.
The Master Sculptor’s sigh had to have been one of pure satisfaction.
After taking several moments to admire Reggie’s body—again—like the thousands of times in the past—he finally noted the outstretched hand, offering a bottle of beer. Condensation coated the glass, ran down its curves and ridges … clung to the label.
His eyes returned to their survey of that body, even as his brain telegraphed its message to ‘take the bottle’. His arm finally responded and reached outward. As his fingers curled around the glass, his pinkie made contact with skin. Reggie’s skin. An immediate electric current flowed between them.
That current shocked.
That current warmed.
That current … aroused.
The heat of it grabbed Cayce by the nuts and sizzled and massaged its way into and around them and went straight to his dick. He felt it twitch. Yawn. Stretch.
He knew it would be mere seconds before he was in full-on tent pole mode beneath his towel. Evasive maneuvers were demanded—now. His eyes rose to lock with the amused grin coming from his best friend. Amused, and—more. Understanding? Perhaps.
Cayce glanced down as he tightened his grip on the bottle and tugged it free from Reggie’s hand. Yeah. Maybe Reggie felt that nut spark, too. The towel knotted at his waist was similarly ‘tent-poled’ right now.
Cayce turned toward the water. He lifted the bottle to his lips and sipped. He sipped. He nearly choked. His rising nerves had somehow found his throat. He felt Reggie’s hand take immediate residence on his shoulder. A gentle squeeze and kneading rub. He took a moment to relax into his friend’s tender touch. He took a deep breath and then forced his attention outward to study the palms, the privets, the flowers … the banana trees. They lined the walks and surrounded the pool area. They even outlined the entrance to the outdoor man cave that rose up along the opposite side of the pool. Leaves rustled softly and fronds gently swayed in the soft breeze that was failing miserably at easing the blast furnace of heat.
The bottom of his towel flapped along with those palms and banana trees. It almost felt like a message was being tap … tap … tapped.
Sip.
Sip.
Sip.
A bit lost in his own thoughts, Cayce nearly jumped out of his skin when Reggie’s voice sounded from just behind his left ear.
“You know, you don’t have to do this, ‘C’. At least, not tonight.” Reggie stepped closer. Both of his hands now rested on his shoulders. Gentle. Tender. Strong and firm.
Squeeze.
Rub.
Knead.
Stroke.
Rest.
Squeeze.
Rub.
Knead.
Stroke.
Rest.
Reggie was standing so close to Cayce.
So very close.
They both could feel the heat radiating between them.
Close enough that Reggie could breathe in the fresh, clean scent of his friend’s freshly washed hair. With Cayce’s favorite shampoo that Reggie always kept stocked in the guest suite for him. It blended so perfectly with Cayce’s natural scent. Fresh. Clean. Masculine.
So close that he realized that only a couple of thick, oversized oh … so … cushy towels separated his throbbing, drooling cock from the two granite globes of Cayce’s ass. Those globes and that crack. That crack and the tight, pink pucker that lay protected, yet—vulnerable. Reggie’s mind said ‘back away’ but his body said ‘no way’. ‘Not a chance.’ ‘Fuhgeddaboudit’.
He felt the muscle of Cayce’s shoulders twitch and tremble beneath his kneading fingers … the palms of his hands. He felt the tremors and quakes down Cayce’s spine as he pressed into him. His friend was terrified.
“Remember when we were kids?” Reggie stepped even closer and gripped those trembling shoulders more tightly. He squeezed. He kneaded. He fisted and knuckled deep into the tissue. “When we went on that camping trip to Valle del Diablo? The white water rafting? Diving off the ledge at Woman Scorned?”
Nod.
Tremor.
Nod.
“I was so fucking scared,” Reggie said with a disbelieving laugh.
Snort.
Tremor.
“You were a rock, man. You were the total rock. I admired you so much. The confidence. The determination. The … fucking … ‘balls’ you were tossing.” Reggie gripped Cayce’s shoulders and forced a slow turn. He stared at that handsome face only inches from his own. He dove into those eyes. “I hated you for a minute.”
Head tilt.
Brow knitting.
“You hated me?”
“Fuck yeah. There I was—Reggie Cooke, shaking in my skin. My bones were clanking I was so fucking scared. And what happens?”
Cayce offered another head tilt. His brow knit more tightly. He saw every moment of that trip flash through his brain bank. He couldn’t find anything that…. Reggie hated him? Why? He shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head.
“‘I’ am the one that is supposed to swoop in and save the day. ‘I’ am the one that is destined to achieve immortality in a graphic novel.” He laughed at the eye roll that his boast received. “But, no. Not then. I was petrified. And then? Cayce Foster steps into the starring role. Cayce ‘friggin’ Foster turns into Captain America and wraps his arms around me and says ‘I gotchu’ and he steps off that ledge—taking me with. We’re free falling through the air at like nine gazillion miles per hour. I’m screaming my fucking lungs out! And you? You—Captain America. You hold me tighter and you manage somehow in mid-air to lock into my eyes.”
Nod.
Cayce’s brow relaxed.
Nod.
“Remember what you said?”
Cayce’s eyes rolled as the words came to him. God—did he ever go all corn dog on his best friend or what?
“I gotchu. Just relax. I’ll take care of you.”
Reggie nodded. His hands went back to those perfectly chiseled shoulders and then slid down across Cayce’s pecs. He could feel his friend’s heart beating wildly beneath his touch.
“And then?”
Head tilt.
“Trust me, Reggie. You’re safe with me.”
Acknowledgement swept across Cayce’s face. He saw where Reggie was going with this. The lightning storm and dark clouds in his eyes began to lighten—slightly. He nodded.
“You held me tight. You wrapped me in all your Cayceness. You took me on the ride of my life and you protected me. You never let go. We hit the water and went down together and came back to the surface together. I was shaking like a leaf and you held me in your arms and you were grinning like a drunk mule … you son of a bitch. And you said, ‘See? I gotchu’.”
Drunk mules grin?
Cayce stared into his friend’s eyes and he relived that moment. Yeah, he ‘did’ do that. Yeah, he grabbed hold of Reggie and he jumped. What the Hell was he thinking? He could have killed both of them with that move!
“Give back my hero suit, ‘C’. It’s my turn to throw the shield,” Reggie said softly but with the confidence of a Brahma bull.
“I gotchu, ‘C’. Relax buddy. I gotchu.”
He pulled Cayce into his arms and held him tight. His chin slid into place on Cayce’s right shoulder. He smiled softly when he felt Cayce’s chin slide into place on his own shoulder. Hands slowly gripped at his waist and held fast … held on for dear life. He tilted his head and kissed just below Cayce’s ear. He kissed again. He kissed again. He moved on to his friend’s temple. His cheek caressed in the softness of his friend’s hair.
Another kiss.
A deep breath.
He butterfly kissed his way to the center of Cayce’s forehead and then down across the bridge of his nose.
“Let me be your hero. For tonight. For tomorrow. For as long as you need me.”
He kissed the tip of Cayce’s nose. And kissed it a second and third time before he nudged his way down to that strong chin. Again—one … two … three pecks. He gazed into Cayce’s eyes. He leaned in and pressed his lips against Cayce’s lips.
He pulled back.
“I gotchu.”
He kissed him again. Soft. Tender. Comforting.
“Relax.”
He kissed him.
“It’s okay to take the leap, ‘C’.” He nodded to the wary-eyed gaze that his friend offered. “I gotchu. Jump.”
Reggie’s tongue shot out and explored those beautiful lips. It luxuriated in the pout. The softness. The plumpness. Then he moved in for another kiss. This one deeper. More urgent.
“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Trust me.”
Cayce’s entire body eased and he kissed back. He pressed his lips into Reggie’s lips. They kissed softly. They kissed deeply. They kissed with a passion that quite probably neither had ever known.
“No pressure, here,” Reggie choked out as he broke the kiss. He pecked. He pecked again. He pressed back into another full blown kiss. He backed away. “Unless….”
Cayce’s eyes narrowed.
“Unless?”
Reggie planted a series of those butterfly kisses along Cayce’s cheekbone and then moved back toward his chin.
“If you need some time to think about….”
He stopped mid-sentence and dove back into those full, pouty lips. His throbbing cock twitched out a message. ‘Don’t forget about me. ‘I’ want those lips, too!’ Reggie ignored that signal—for the moment. He pressed deeper. Harder. A lust rising in a race with a growing passion. The passion of lifelong best friends standing on a ledge—about … to … take the leap….
The next time that their lips parted, Reggie stared into his friend’s eyes for several long moments and then he turned him toward the waters of the pool once again. He leaned forward and kissed the back of Cayce’s neck. He kissed across his left shoulder and then back to kiss his right shoulder. He planted several kisses in the center of his blades.
“Trust me, ‘C’. I gotchu. Whatever you need. Whatever you want. I’m yours. I’ll help you get off this ledge.” He moved back upward and kissed his friend’s neck once more. He slid his hands around Cayce’s trim waist and fingered the thin trail below his navel. “Just turn off the brain for a while. You think ‘way’ too much. Just … stop … ‘thinking’ for a while.”
Sheah.
I do think way too much. I’ve been thinking about this for way too long.
Cayce turned slowly. So slow that he wondered if he should take his feet in for a lube job. He stopped—finally—and there it was again. The body. ‘That’ body. That face. Those eyes—burning into his head and into his soul. He tried to lighten the lust-laden moment. Lust. Nerves. Desire. Anxiety. Yeah, ‘that’ moment.
“You always say that I think way too much.”
Snort.
Good one, Cowboy.
“I’m just saying….”
Cayce felt his shoulders collapse. Was it an offer for ‘him’ to opt out? Maybe. Or, maybe Reggie didn’t really want to do this. Do ‘this’ or maybe do this with ‘him’? Maybe Reggie was trying to get out of it but was trying to save face?
“You don’t want me to…?”
Reggie stepped forward. Closed the distance. Bulging tent pole to bulging tent pole. Rigidly carved abs to chiseled abs. Chest to chest.
Even freshly showered, Cayce yielded to the urge. His nostrils flared. He inhaled deeply. He absorbed the mix of ingredients that blended into the Reggie recipe. He reached out and ran his fingers along the granite slabs of Reggie’s chest. His thumbs danced over his nipples causing them to pucker and twitch and harden instantly. He heard the slight intake of air between his friend’s lips.
“Is this okay?”
Nod.
“Sure?”
Nod.
“I’m yours, ‘C’. Anything you need. Anything you want.” Reggie grinned wickedly but with the love of a lifetime of friendship. “Just don’t forget about my blow job.”
Cayce’s eyes rolled and he let out a short laugh.
Yeah. Like I could forget about sucking that dick….
Cayce sucked in a deep, long, lung bursting draw of air and he leaned forward to nuzzle Reggie’s neck. He licked. He tasted … Reggie. He licked again. He pressed his lips to that spot. He moved to the opposite side of his best friend’s neck and did the same thing. He paused and leaned back to watch his fingers as they skated over that pack of rock hard abs. Up. Down. Over. Up. Down. Over. He leaned in to run his tongue over one of those now diamond pointed nipples.
Reggie hissed his approval.
Lick.
Hiss.
His teeth nipped at it.
“Fuck.”
He kissed his way into the valley between those mounds of chest and found the other nipple. He licked.
Reggie hissed.
He licked.
Reggie hissed.
His teeth clamped lightly and pulled.
“Fuck.” Small shockwaves of pleasure pain seared through him as those teeth and that tongue worked his nipple. His cock throbbed with a frenzy like none he had ever known. “Fuck, ‘C’.”
Cayce’s head drifted back to that deep valley between those two chiseled pecs and he planted another kiss. And another. He slowly moved upward and he kissed Reggie’s throat. He felt it bob under the touch of his lips. He kissed again. Bob. Kiss. Bob. He drifted along Reggie’s upper pec until he was raising his arm and then he dove into his pit. He inhaled. He registered the scents. He inhaled. He kissed and licked and inhaled.
Reggie.
All Reggie.
Pure Reggie.
“That’s it, ‘C’. That’s the way. Take the leap.”
And, leap he did.
Tug.
Tug.
Yank.
The towel fell from Reggie’s ‘V’-tapered waist and landed in a heap at his feet. At the same moment, Cayce’s knees gave way, and—he was eye level with the prize that he had dreamed of for so long. He inhaled again. Again. And, again. The scent was still Reggie. All Reggie. Thicker. Stronger. More pungent. This was the truest, purest Reggie. His essence. Heady stuff. Intoxicating. Too bad it couldn’t be bottled.
He gazed longingly at his best friend’s throbbing cock. The head was flaring and glowing in a purple rage. The slit winked and fluttered and drooled. His balls hung full and fat … hanging low like the bells from the old abandoned mission down the road. He remembered how they used to sneak out at all hours of the night and swing those ghosts of the past … making them clang and ring in the darkness. Then scamper away fast before they got caught.
He studied the sight before him and wondered if these ‘bells’ would make any noise tonight. His gaze floated up along that thick, veined, glistening shaft until it rested again on the unsheathed helmet. Another slit wink. Another droplet of ooze river’d from its opening. The entire package … Reggie … there before him like a prize.
Yeah, the prize.
Reggie.
END of Chapter 7
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This is just the start of a story which may or may not be continued. If there is enough interest, there MAY be additional chapters. The interest shown in it will be a determining factor in continuing the story.
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