Date: Thu, 14 Dec 2000 22:05:14 -0800 (PST)
From: Brew Maxwell <brew_drinker23@yahoo.com>
Subject: Rob, Chapter 6

Disclaimer:
The following is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to real people or
events is purely coincidental.  The story contains graphic descriptions of
sex between men, and anyone who is forbidden by law to read such material
must exit the story now.  The characters have unprotected sex, as
characters safely can in fiction.  Reality, obviously, is another matter
entirely.

This story is being posted to the Nifty Archive for the enjoyment of its
readers.  It may not be posted or distributed by any other medium without
the written permission of the author.

Other works by the author in the Nifty Archive include "Unusual Christmas"
and the series Nick's Adventures, both in bisexual/high school; "First
Mate" and "Twin Spin, Parts 1 and 2" in gay/incest; The Dancer and Call-Boy
Journal in gay/encounters; "My First Year with Kevin" in gay/high school;
and "From Slave to Houseboy" in gay/authoritarian.


E-mail comments are always welcome.
Rob

Chapter 6

	Rob beat me awake again the next morning and had coffee and the
Sunday paper ready for me when I opened my eyes.  My cock was slightly
swollen from the pressure of the urine in my bladder, and, if Rob noticed
it, he didn't say or do anything about it.  I got up and went downstairs to
piss.  He was sitting up in bed on top of the covers when I returned.  He
was concentrating intensely on the sports page, so I assumed he wasn't in
the mood for sex.  I wasn't either, but I would have been willing to
accommodate his needs.
	After we finished the pot of coffee he had made, we decided to get
dressed and get some breakfast.  We went to the bakery-cum-deli down the
street.  Rob ordered a bacon and egg sandwich and coffee, and I made do
with a bagel and coffee.  If I tried to keep up with his eating, I'd gain
fifty pounds in no time.
	After breakfast, we wandered around the Quarter for a long time,
going into shops, looking in windows, and generally playing the tourist
game.  Finally, we came to a school yard that was really no more than a
couple of basketball courts done in asphalt.  There were five guys, all
around Rob's age, shooting baskets.  We stopped to watch a minute, and one
of them walked over to the fence.
	"Hey, y'all. Either of y'all want a game?"
	I looked at Rob to let him know that I certainly didn't want to
play.
	"He might," I said, gesturing toward my boy.
	"Yeah, I'll play."  Then he turned to me and asked, "You mind,
Dad?"
	"Hell, no.  Get your ass in there and make your daddy proud."
	He grinned broadly when I said that, and he was inside the school
yard in no time.  I followed at a slower pace.  I wanted the pleasure of
watching him move and stretch and run and be the animal I knew him to be.
	He took off his shirt, and a couple of the others did, too.  Then,
he surprised even me by starting to take off his jeans.  One of the others
looked at him funny, and he told him not to worry.  Unbeknownst to me, he
was wearing a pair of sweat shorts under his jeans.  He was obviously not
wearing a jock strap, and the outline of his soft five inches was very
apparent through the cotton of his shorts.  I noticed a couple or three of
the other boys look at him, but Rob paid them no attention.  They were
warmed up, and he wasn't, so he made several lay-up shots to get to where
they were.
	The game was fun to watch.  I kept my eyes on Rob, of course, but
the others, who gradually shed clothing as they warmed up, weren't bad to
look at either.  Rob was clearly the most graceful athlete of the lot, and
he scored more points than any of the others.  He had obviously done that
sort of thing before, and he certainly knew the vocabulary of the pick-up
basketball game.
	They played three games to twenty, and Rob's team won all three.
About an hour after they had begun, they finally decided they had had
enough.  Rob was dripping wet, and his shorts were soaked almost all the
way down.  The game had had the effect of really pumping up his muscles,
and he looked so good I wanted to devour him on the spot.  He came over to
where I was seated on a bench and got a cigarette out of his shirt pocket.
When he lit it, he coughed a brief cough.  A guy on his team came over and
asked to bum one, and I noticed two other boys lighting up, as well.
	The guy on Rob's team introduced himself.  His name was Chip Welch,
and he wondered if Rob would like to play with them again sometime.
	"Sure, man.  That was a ball," Rob answered.
	"How can I get in touch with you," Chip asked.
	Rob reached into his jeans for his wallet and gave Chip a business
card.  They agreed that Chip would call the next time they were looking for
someone to play with.
	Rob and I walked the few blocks back to his apartment.  He didn't
bother dressing because he badly needed a shower after that workout.
	"Damn, that was fun.  I haven't done that in a long time," he said.
	"They seemed like nice guys, don't you think," I asked.
	"Yeah.  They were.  You think they're gay?"
	"Gosh, Rob, I have no idea.  Do you think so?"
	"I think that guy Chip is.  Did you see the way he looked at me
when I gave him my card?  That's usually a good sign."
	I, of course, knew the look he was talking about, but I hadn't
noticed Chip use it.
	"And I think a few of the others are gay, too."
	"Surely that doesn't bother you, does it?  I mean, if they are
gay?"
	"Naw.  Why should it bother me?"
	"You kind of sound like it might.  Just a little."
	"Sorry.  This whole gay-straight thing bothers me a little.  It's
complicated, I guess."
	I didn't pursue the matter further with him, but I thought I knew
what he was thinking.  Rob had mentioned earlier that Kevin had said he
didn't think Rob was gay, and I was beginning to have my doubts that he
was, too.  I didn't dwell on it, of course.  Not after the wonderful sex we
had had.  At the time I didn't care what he was, as long as he was mine.
	We spent the rest of the afternoon lounging around the apartment.
Rob spoke to his parents, the way a dutiful son should, but he didn't
mention me to them.  Why should he?
	That night we went out for pizza and beer.  When we came home, we
got in bed, and Rob worked his magic on my body once again.  After that, we
watched TV from bed and eventually drifted off to sleep.

	The next morning I took possession of my apartment after Rob went
to work.  He had offered to help me when he got home that evening, but
there wasn't much to do until the bulk of my things arrived by UPS.  I
tried out my new TV set, and it worked fine.  Then I checked out the new
stereo with some CD's I borrowed from Rob.  His collection was eclectic,
and he seemed partial to Oldies and Jimmy Buffett.
	I saved my new computer till last.  I had made arrangements to have
a dial-up connection ready for me to use with the same ISP that Rob used.
I fully expected to spend the better part of the day configuring all the
software and installing some that had come as part of a bonus package.
When I turned it on, though, I realized the computer was ready for
immediate use.  It even said I had e-mail.  When I checked it, I discovered
a note from Rob saying he hoped I didn't mind his working on the computer,
but he wanted to do it as a little present for me.
	I started to write back saying I always mind it when someone saves
me four or five hours of work, but I decided to use a less ironic tone and
just say thanks.
	The UPS truck came around one, and the driver and I struggled to
get the boxes up the stairs to my apartment.  I had shipped fifteen
cartons, and only ten arrived.  I had the guy call to check on the rest,
and he said they had arrived after he had left the depot that morning.  He
would deliver them the next day, if that was all right.  As it turned out,
the five cartons that hadn't arrived were all books.  I didn't know if that
was a coincidence or if it had something to do with the weight of the
boxes.  In any case, that was fine with me because putting my books away
would take time.  The way it happened allowed me to spread the chore of
moving in over two days.
	By four o'clock I was finished unpacking and putting away the ten
cartons of my belongings.  I only had one painting that I liked or cared
about, and Bob Sirois had left a space for it.  In fact, he had even had a
hanger nailed up for me.  My stuff looked good in my new apartment, and it
gave me enough continuity with my past to make me feel at home.
	Rob got home around 5:30, and he came over immediately.  He was
still dressed in his business suit, and, my, he looked good.  He came
toward me, and I though he wanted a kiss.  When I kissed him, he recoiled a
little.
	"What's the matter," I asked.
	"Sorry, I just wasn't expecting a kiss is all."
	"You like kissing, don't you.  You sure as hell seem to."
	"Of course, I like kissing.  But that's part of sex."  He shrugged.
	"Would you prefer that I not kiss you in situations like this?"  I
thought I knew the answer, but I wanted him to tell me.
	He thought for a few moments and said, "I really would prefer that
you not kiss me in situations like this."
	I laughed.
	"Why are you laughing at me," he asked, a touch hurt.
	"Babe, I'm not laughing at you.  I'm laughing at the way you said
that.  So formal and all.  Rob, you give me great delight, and one way I
show delight is to laugh."
	"Oh, yeah?"  There was devilment in the way he said that.
	"Yeah."
	He moved toward me menacingly.  Before I knew what happened, he had
me on the floor, tickling me.  I howled with laughter and tried to fight
him off.  It was no use, though, and pretty soon the tickling became
rubbing.  He took his coat off, then his tie and shirt, then the rest of
his clothes.  I started to get up, and he pulled me back to the floor.
	"Where do you think you're going, Mister?"
	I was still laughing, and he was still tickling me.  He pulled my
clothes off me, and soon I, too, was naked.
	Rob got on top of me and kissed me deeply, passionately, and with
great enthusiasm.  I was already half hard from what he had done earlier,
and my penis sprang to its full size in an instant.  He was hard, too.
	"How about a housewarming fuck," he asked.
	"Mmmmmmmmmmm" was all I said.  I had thought about him all day, and
I had gotten hard more than once.  I was ready for him.
	We kissed and cuddled and hugged and rubbed until we were more than
ready to consummate the act.  He wanted me on my side with one leg bent,
and he entered me from behind.  We hadn't yet used that position, and my
insides reacted to the subtle differences the position created with a wave
of lust.  All of a sudden, I couldn't get enough of him in me, and I thrust
back as he thrust forward, in perfect sync with one another.  Rob did his
wonderful trick of taking me there and pulling me back four times, and each
time he orgasmed.  The last time, we came at the same instant, and he
flooded my insides with his sperm.  I splashed up onto my chest, and
positioned myself to keep my cum from staining my new rug.  Rob noticed my
dilemma and scooped most of it off with his finger to pop it into his
mouth.  After another scoop, all the danger of leakage was gone, and I
relaxed.  After ten minutes of gradual softening within me, Rob pulled out.
	Ever the gentleman, he got up and got a warm washcloth to finish
cleaning me up.  He had apparently taken care of that chore for himself in
the bathroom.  We sat leaning against the sofa, buck naked, smoking
cigarettes.
	"Rob, sex with you gets better every time," I said.
	"For me, too.  I came four times that time."
	"Five."
	"What," he asked.
	"Five.  You came five times.  I counted."
	"Really?  Okay, five, then.  That's even better."  He grinned at
me.
	I told him about my day, and he told me about his.  We were like a
married couple coming together after work to catch one another up on our
lives.  He wanted to see what I had done with my stuff, so we got up.  I
showed him around, and he was impressed that I had done so much in such a
short time.
	Rob's penis was still about half hard.  In the kitchen I noticed
him touch himself.  I'd never seen him do that before except when he
masturbated, and it thrilled me.  I turned toward him and took it softly
into my hand.
	"Does this fellow need more attention," I asked.
	He grinned at me.  "Not really.  I just like to touch it sometimes
when I'm like this.  It just feels good.  I kinda like being half-hard."
	I let his penis return to its natural position.
	"Would you like a drink?  I'm dying for one," I said.
	"Er, yeah.  Let me have some scotch, if you have any."
	"Rob, I always have scotch.  Don't worry about that."
	We stood in the kitchen, drinking and talking.  My own penis
shriveled to half its ordinary soft size, as it always does after I come.
I'm usually about two and a half inches soft.  At that time, though, I was
more like an inch and a half.  Rob noticed.
	"Why does your cock get so small after we have sex?"
	"Beats me, son," I said.  "It always has done that.  In an hour
it'll be back to its regular size."
	"Mine stays half hard for about an hour, and it never gets smaller
than five inches."
	"The infinite variety of the human penis," I said in a
philosophical tone of voice.  We both laughed.
	"What are we going to do about dinner," I asked.
	"Well, I took out some ground beef this morning.  I thought I'd
make us some spaghetti and a salad, if you'd like that."
	"I hate for you to go to a lot of trouble," I said.
	"It's no trouble.  I just have to cook the meat and add a jar of
sauce.  This ain't gonna be no gourmet treat, though."
	"Sounds fine to me," I said.
	Still naked, we went to his apartment.  I poured us each a second
drink before we left my place, and I watched Rob move gracefully around his
kitchen.  He put water on to boil for the spaghetti, vermicelli, actually,
and then put the meat in a skillet.  The salad was one of those pre-made
salads from a plastic bag, and it was a simple matter to put that in bowls.
He got out French bread and cut several slices.  He buttered them and put a
little garlic salt on top.  As we were getting close to being ready to eat,
he put the bread into the oven under the broiler.  He obviously knew
something about cooking, even if the meal was very simple.
	I set the table, and we were ready to eat by 6:45.  Rob ate with
his usual gargantuan appetite, and I ate a hearty serving myself.
	"Do you usually cook like this," I asked.  I had assumed he ate
every meal out.
	"Yeah.  When I don't eat at the hotel, which I don't think I'll be
doing much any more.  Eating out every meal is fattening, plus I really
don't like to eat in restaurants alone."
	"I don't blame you," I said.  "I'm the same way."  I had forgotten
he got meals for a dollar at the hotel.  He must have eaten with
colleagues.
	After dinner we had coffee and cigarettes.  We talked about
incidental things and generally enjoyed each other's company.  When Rob
stood to clear the table, I noticed his penis was back to its regular size
and there was a drop of clear liquid hanging on the end.  He noticed that,
too, and wiped it with his finger and put it in his mouth.  That made me
stir a tiny bit.  He managed to turn everything into a sexual act.
	"Are you a fan of Monday-night football," I asked.
	"Not really.  Sometimes, if I'm bored out of my skull, I go to a
sports bar not far from here and watch it, though.  But I don't really
follow the pros all that much."
	"Are you going to stay naked if we stay home," I asked.
	"Do you want me to?"
	"I kinda do," I said.
	"Well, then, I will.  I like being naked, especially with you
watching my every move."
	"Oh, you noticed."
	"Yeah, and I love it."  He reached down and touched himself as he
said that.  There was no stirring, though.
	"Let's go to my place," I said.  And so we did.
	Once we were comfortably snuggled on the sofa, I raised an issue
that had been on my mind all day and for the previous two weeks.  I was
reluctant to talk about it, but I knew we had to establish some boundaries
in our relationship, if it was going to work at all.
	"Rob, I want to talk about us," I said without any lead in.
	"What about us?"
	"Well, our living arrangements, for one."
	"Oh."
	"And more than that, too.  About our relationship."
	"I knew this was coming," he said.
	"You did?  What do you mean?"
	"Well, I can tell you're in love with me.  Isn't that right?"
	"Yes, Rob.  I am in love with you.  I have been for a couple of
weeks now.  Ever since I first met you."
	"I think I knew that," he said quietly.
	"But you're not in love with me, are you?"
	I felt him stiffen slightly against me.  That kind of reaction
could only mean that what I had said was true.  I waited for him to
respond.  After a few moments of silence, he finally said,
	"I feel about you like I feel about Kevin."
	"And..."
	"And that is, I love you, but I'm not _in_ love with you.  Does
that make any sense to you?"
	I waited a moment to respond because I wanted to say the right
thing.  The last thing I wanted was to lose that boy, and that was a
crucial juncture in making sure that didn't happen.
	"You and Kevin were together a long time.  I'm sure you do love one
another."
	"We do.  We'd each die for the other one.  I know that."  He spoke
with total confidence.
	"And, yes, what you just said does make sense to me.  Do you think
you could ever be in love with me?"
	He sat up straight and faced me.  There were tears in his eyes, and
I could tell that whatever he was about to say was something he had thought
a great deal about.  The emotion was strong enough to feel across the gap
that separated us physically at that point.
	"No."
	The tears that had been welling up cascaded down his cheeks.  The
simplicity of his honesty was touching, and I knew it caused him great pain
to have to say that.
	"I didn't think so," I said quietly.
	There was a long pause.  He wiped his tears on the backs of his
forearms.  His gorgeous innocence was almost overwhelming to me as I
witnessed his emotional outpouring.
	"Dan, that was the last word I hoped I'd ever have to say to you.
I want to be in love with you so bad it hurts, but I just can't say 'yes.'"
	"I know, my sweet," I said, as I pulled him to me.
	"Oh, God, Dan, you don't know how much I thought about this while
you were gone.  I knew you were in love with me when you left to go back to
Charlotte, and I knew that sooner or later we were going to have this
conversation.  But I can't lie to you.  I can't lie to my friend."
	By now he was sobbing deeply.  I started crying with him, and we
held one another for support.  We stayed that way for a long time.
Finally, we each recovered sufficiently to talk.
	"Rob, I know you can't lie.  And I knew you wouldn't when I started
this conversation.  But it's something we need to talk about.  It has lots
of implications for both of us."
	"I know," he said.
	Another long pause.  I knew we had to set the boundaries for us.
If I met a man that appealed to me, I wanted to make certain I could have
him and that Rob would remain my friend.  I also knew that it was only a
matter of time before Rob's inherent heterosexuality would make him seek
female companionship.  I wanted him to have as much latitude as he needed
to pursue the woman he would eventually marry.  Frankly, I didn't know what
to say.
	"You got any ideas," I finally said.
	"Kevin and I had a talk like this," he said after a long pause.
	"And. . . "
	"And we decided we'd just be fuck-buddies."
	I knew precisely what was meant by the term, but I wanted to make
sure he knew.  If I couldn't have him as my permanent lover, I knew the
fuck-buddy arrangement was the next best thing.
	"What did that mean, exactly," I asked.
	"Well, it meant we'd continue having sex as often as we could, but
it also meant each of us was free to date other people--of either sex."
	"Did that arrangement work out for you guys," I asked.  Rob had
already told me about his relationship with Kevin, so I knew it had.  The
key was jealousy, or lack of it.  In our relationship, I would have to be
the one to guard against it most.
	"Yeah, it worked real good.  It's still working," he said.
	"You mean because of me?"
	"You, and Kevin is seeing someone, too.  Fucking him."
	"And neither of you is jealous of the other one?"
	"Well, I wasn't exactly jealous.  I was just so lonely I sort of
resented Kevin's good luck.  Now, though, I'm fine with it."
	"Do you think you and Kevin will ever get back together," I asked.
	"Not as lovers.  As fuck-buddies, maybe, if he moved here or we
ended up in the same city.  But how about you?  Could you live with that
kind of arrangement?"
	"Rob, more than anything I want to be your exclusive lover for the
rest of our lives, but that takes both people being in love with each
other.  And I know that can't happen.  The fuck-buddy relationship isn't
ideal, as far as my needs are concerned, but I'd much rather have that than
no relationship at all."
	Rob seemed to sigh in relief when I said that.
	"Oh, Dan, you don't know how happy that makes me.  I genuinely want
to be in love with you more than anything, but I know I can't be.  Now I
feel so much more secure with you."
	"What do you mean," I asked.
	"Well, the nature of our relationship is defined.  Now I know where
I stand."
	I had initiated the conversation because I had to know where I
stood, and it hadn't occurred to me Rob needed the same assurance.  As I
thought about it, it made perfect sense, and it more or less proved his
sincerity in saying he loved me.  A great burden of insecurity lifted from
me at that moment, and I felt free to grow with him in a way I hadn't
before.
	Rob took the initiative at that point.  He got down on his knees in
front of me and took my soft cock into his mouth.  The warmth and the
wetness and the security of being inside him made me stiffen.  He lavished
his love on my cock, and, after several return trips to the brink of
ecstasy, he finally led me over the edge.  My orgasm was so powerful I
literally saw bright lights.  Rob hadn't ignored his own needs, though.
While he was sucking my cock, he kept up a steady stroke on his own
engorged penis, and, after several dry orgasms, he flooded my lap and chest
with his cum.  In a sense, that session was symbolic of our new
relationship.  He pleasured me as his buddy, but he assumed responsibility
for his own sexual needs while he did so.  It was as though he had declared
his sexual independence, yet it was his contact with me that turned his
organ into the erect phallus he needed for sexual gratification.  At that
instant, a tidal wave of love for that boy crashed over me, and I embraced
him hard.  "God, I love you," I said.
	"And, God, I love you."
	Even though we meant slightly different things by the word "love,"
we did, indeed, love one another, and the course of our relationship was
set.

	Rob and I fell into a pattern of life.  I started work at my new
firm a week after our talk, and we continued to share companionship and
sex.  He was always ready and always great in bed, and I was always willing
to do whatever pleased him.
	My new job was demanding, and some nights we didn't even see one
another.  He had to work some nights on a regular rotation, and I had work
I had to finish at home.  We both understood the commitments of the other,
and there was no problem with that.  We continued fucking one another as
our schedules permitted, but, in a few months, Rob met the girl I knew he
would fall in love with.
	They married, and I'm always included in family gatherings.  He and
Jessica have a son, now, and I'll be Uncle Dan to him when he's old enough
to talk.  I have no idea whether Rob has ever told Jessica about the nature
of our relationship, but I suspect he hasn't.  They live in a magnificent
house in Old Metairie, a rather posh part of the city.  Rob is now the
assistant general manager of a forty-story Sheraton downtown, and he and
Jessica are part of the social scene of New Orleans.
	Rob and I haven't had sex in more than two years now--ever since he
married Jessica--but I still love him with all my heart.  I thought often
of my father and what he had told me about his college experience.  I
wondered if he felt about his boy as I did about Rob.  Jeff and I are
together these days, and have been for months.  I am a full-fledged
Orleanian now, and I even belong to the Krewe of Rex, as does Rob.  My
engineering firm has prospered, I'm rich, and my life is quite fulfilling.
Now and then, on Sunday mornings, Jeff and I sit on the patio, usually in
clothes these days, and he dozes in the sun.  I think about Rob and that
wonderful time we had together.  I thank God for bringing him into my life.

End