Chapter 37: Unexpected Encounters
For the rest of the afternoon it was as if I had broken my shackles and was able to turn from the shadows on the cave wall to look at the real fire for the first time. I didn't write a word. I just watched in wonder as the beautiful simplicity of it played out before me. I was seeing it. I was understanding it. It had been there all along, and now it was clear.
I skipped lunch, preferring to be alone with my thoughts. I took the lake path into the woods, hardly seeing out my own eyes, so absorbed was I in following my new trains of thought to their destinations. Puzzle pieces that had for years stayed in the box suddenly fit, for the first time, into the picture. Clarity. Gorgeous clarity.
My career stretched out before me. The diss was a go. There was no question about it. What I had found was big. It was important. It was a breakthrough. Not just for me. It was a breakthrough in the field. My heart beat with the adrenaline coursing through my system as I began to be infected by Sharon's earlier enthusiasm. This was worth a million, I realized. At least.
I was walking around the lake and veered off into the woods. Finding a clearing, I lay down and let the sun warm my skin. There's a feeling you get when you work very hard on something - something that is difficult for you - and finally get it. It's called "float." My brain flooded with beta-endorphins, I planned out my very bright future in the sparkles and fireworks the sun created on the insides of my eyelids. I couldn't wait to tell Adam! How long had he struggled in his life to understand? Here was the second gift in less than 24 hours that I could give him.
I wasn't quite sure how much time had passed by the time I finally got up. It felt like midafternoon. I brushed myself off and headed back toward the path. The sense of float hadn't worn off, and I found myself bouncing a little as I walked, like Matt. I was heading through the woods toward the beach when a noise off to my left caught my ear.
As I made my way through the trees, a clearing opened up before me. Shmu was at its center, standing sideways to me, bathing suit pulled down to his thighs. Kneeling before him was Evan. I stopped at the edge of the clearing, and moved, as quietly as I could, behind the cover of a large spruce. From there, unobserved, I watched.
Shmu had his hands on the back of the boy's head, fingers laced through his golden locks there. Evan, hands on Shmu's thighs to prevent him from pushing in farther, was sucking on Shmu's dick head like it was a lollipop. Shmu was purring at him in the way I had become very familiar with over the months of our relationship.
"That's it, baby. Take a little more. You can do it."
Shmu was a talker. I had never particularly liked verbalizations during sex until I had met him. Having grown up with a bedroom next to my parents' in a house with thin walls, I had learned to masturbate completely silently, and the practice had carried over to sex. But Shmu liked to direct while he was fucking, and the steady patter he kept up had a calming, erotic effect.
"Just an inch more, baby. C'mon. You know you want a little more." His biceps flexed a little more as he pulled Evan to him. Evan still resisted with his hands against Shmu's thighs, but the syrup of Shmu's enticements was having its effect. He let a little more of the shaft disappear into his mouth.
"Yeah, baby. There ya go. Ya like it? Ya like Shmu's big fat dick in your mouth? I know ya do, baby. Shmu got a sweet dick, huh baby?"
Without letting up the pressure on the back of Evan's head, Shmu began to flex his hips, pulling out an inch, then returning. Evan was a curious mix of desire and reluctance. His posture was defensive, keeping Shmu at a distance, only allowing him to slide in an inch past the head. But his face, angelic to begin with, was in sublime repose. Eyes closed but not tensed shut, lips tight around Shmu's shaft, he sucked like a natural. His dick, hidden by his shiny blue Speedo, was full but not fully hard.
"You got such sweet lips, baby. Take Shmu's dick like a man. C'mon, baby.
There ya go. In a little more. No one will know baby. This is just our little secret. That's it. Oh, yeah, baby. Keep doin' that with your tongue. You know what feels good."
The boy's cheeks were going rosy. Keeping one hand behind his head to prevent escape - not that Evan would have at that point, ensnared as he was in Shmu's web of sugary words and encouragement - Shmu began to stroke his bangs and hair and face with the other one.
"Yeah, baby. Take me in some more. Make Shmu happy, baby. Just a little more. Oh, baby, that's it. Make Shmu proud."
It was fascinating watching the play before me. Adam had, of course, been right. Evan was high on the scale. And straight. He was clearly not getting off on the blow job per se. More, it was the domineering position Shmu had taken. Shmu sounded like he was asking, inviting, cajoling. But there was an insistence that was very difficult to refuse or defend against.
If Dan and Adam were zeros, Shmu was a very talented one and one half. I recognized myself in the little blond sophomore at his feet.
But the play was also intensely erotic. I had always been somewhat of a voyeur. That's why my favorite position was on my back. I loved to watch the guy's abdomen crunch as he plowed me. I loved to pull my balls to the side, and watch his dick sink in my hole.
Shmu's six-pack was beginning to be periodically visible as he rotated his hips on the in-strokes. His stomach went from smooth concavity to defined ripples and back again as he tried to push beyond Evan's crumbling defenses.
Such a sexy man! Shmu had it all, almost.
"You like being on your knees, baby? Yeah, you do. Shmu knows. He won't tell nobody. Some guys like feeding dick, some guys like being on their knees. Nothing wrong with that, baby. Nothing wrong with that at all. You just take Shmu's big dick a little more. You can do it."
He was burying it almost to the hilt by now. Evan had begun using his hands more to hold on than to push Shmu away. Shmu increased the pace a little, still trying to get the boy to swallow just a little bit more on each thrust.
I had gone rock hard watching them of course. Not just the identification with Evan, but Shmu's own intense appeal had got me leaking into my shorts. His hair was too long, he could hardly talk about anything except sex and baseball, and he was a stubborn jackass sometimes, but boy! That boy could fox trot!
"There you go, baby. You're almost there. Yeah, baby. That's it. Ahhhhhh." Shmu purred as his auburn pubes made contact with the boy's nose. His free hand went back to the back of Evan's head. He clasped two fistfuls of yellow hair and began to pump. Shmu's great dick slid out of then back into the boy's mouth.
"Get ready, baby. Shmu gonna take you on a ride now. You like that? Yeah. Shmu's big dick down your throat. Mmmph. Take it baby."
Evan, for his part, was doing his best to breathe while he accommodated Shmu's length and size. His own dick had grown, stretching the fabric of his shiny blue bathing suit away from his firm belly. Shmu was forcing the kid's head forward and back as vehemently as he was, himself, thrusting into the boy's mouth.
They went on like that for minutes. I didn't touch myself. I didn't dare move for fear they would see or hear me. Shmu kept up his hypnotic banter throughout, directing Evan, complimenting him, urging him on to greater depths of subservience. It was achingly beautiful to watch.
When Shmu began to near climax, he instructed Evan to take out his dick and jack himself. The boy did. His right hand wrapped around himself and he began to stroke himself furiously. Evan had a lovely dick - much like Brad's. Together, their sacks became wrinkly as their balls journeyed upward to the blast-off position. Shmu's grip on the boy's hair tightened as he neared the edge. I could see the veins begin to stand out on his forearm.
Suddenly, Shmu pulled the boy's head back while he pulled his own dick out.
Still grasping the kid's hair with one hand, he took his pole, now directly over Evan's face, and gave it two final strokes. He had the kid's head bent backward facing the sky. Evan looked up at the dick and the man above it, mouth held open by the position in which he was held, and stroked himself violently.
The first spurt of cum roped from the boy's forehead across the bridge of his nose and down to his cheek. Having fired a tracer, Shmu's next shot hit the mark, sending a full squirt into Evan's mouth. That brought Evan over the edge and he let loose a long jet of his own.
The two of them shuddered and shot, shivered and creamed, panted and swallowed. It was all I could do to keep myself from cumming along with them. Instead, I withdrew as silently as I could and made for the path to the beach.
The boys were all there. Brad and Adam were on the beach catching sun while the rest of the boys played in the water, the former in jams, the latter in boxers. There were chicken fights going on. Doug and Matt on top of him were taking on Drew and Corey. Dan sat on the raft, his feet dangling into the water. He was in a pair of boxers too. When he saw me, he motioned me over to him.
I hadn't really known I was going swimming. I had come from the gym, without ever stopping in my room to change. But they didn't seem to care particularly that Adam and Dan were in their underwear. I stripped down to my jockeys, jumped into the lake and swam out to the raft.
"Where y'all been?" he asked as I surfaced at his feet and grabbed on to an ankle.
"Needed to be alone for a while. I made a...an observation today when I was taking notes. I had to think it through."
"You steal our clothes?"
"Huh?"
"All our clothes are gone."
"Oh, yeah," I said, smiling. "Sorry. I was washing them. Totally forgot."
"Y'all took our bathing suits."
"I did! That why you're in boxers?"
Dan nodded.
"Why don't y'all get us a change of clothes," he said.
"I...ummm...well, I never put them in the dryer," I answered sheepishly. Dan frowned down on me.
"What's made the little man so forgetful? Not like you."
"It was the research, Dan. I made...I came to...I made a breakthrough. I understand it. I'm seeing it. I get where the control comes from and how it's done." I was becoming animated. Dan extended his knee and brought it back down again, taking me for a little ride as I clung to his ankle.
"Settle down, little man," he chuckled. He slid into the water. "C'mon, we'll go put the clothes in the dryer. You can tell me all about it."
At the shore, he walked over to Adam and Brad. I followed. Adam opened his eyes, shading them with a forearm. The hair in his armpit sparkled again, as it had the last time we were on the beach in the daytime. He was so fucking sexy. He didn't slough hormones, he sloughed sex itself.
"The thief?" he asked.
"Yeah," Dan answered.
"Just because I told you gay guys stole my underwear didn't mean you had to steal all of 'em," Adam said, looking over at me.
I laughed. "I was doing your laundry," I explained.
"And yours?"
He nodded at my own jockeys, now sopping and, I realized with horror, completely transparent as a result.
"Good to see ya, Heywood," Brad said. "What's up? Besides you, I mean."
I smiled at Brad then turned back to Adam. "No, I just forgot a bathing suit."
Adam nodded, brought his hand down, closed his eyes and returned his attention to the sun.
"Fix our clothes," he said easily.
"Doing that now, chief."
Dan and I turned and set off. As we got to the path, we passed Evan and Shmu just arriving at the beach. Hellos were exchanged, Shmu's with a smirk given my state of transparency, mine with a smirk given his. They walked onto the beach, we onto the trail.
Away from the crowd, Dan asked me about my discovery.
"It's preliminary," I told him excitedly, "but it's the key. I found the key. I know how to make the observations make sense. I still have a couple of weeks of notes to take, but I know what I'm looking for now. I know what I'm looking at." I gave him a thumbnail sketch, finishing as we got to the laundry.
"That's pretty good," he said. "Makes sense."
"Doesn't it? It's so obvious! But not until it's obvious."
Dan laughed. "Settle down, little man."
I took the laundry out of the washing machine and piled it into the basket.
"I will, I will." I said, bringing the basket over to the drier. "It's just that this is really big. I mean, really big, Dan." I started throwing the clothes into the drier. "It's big for my career. It means my diss is a go. More than a go. It'll be easy. Easy! Can you imagine it?" I slammed the drier shut and turned it on. "And it's big for you, too. I know you're new to it, but haven't you wondered? Haven't you wanted to know what's going on when people just--"
My babble was interrupted. Dan had me, pressed against the drier, in a seriously deep kiss. I melted, letting go the need to talk, to effuse, to explain. Very quickly there was only Dan in the world again. Only his tongue as it undulated across mine and sucked my lips into his mouth. Only his chest as it pressed me into the vibrating, warming machine behind me. Only his hand as it cupped my damp crotch and slid down and back to my crack. My knee came up, giving him access. It was the last decision I made. After that, it was all Dan.
He was gentle with me. A lion, but a gentle one. He hooked my knee on his hip and worked my hole with his fingers. I hugged him to me with my legs, content to let him drive and drive me wild. His other hand held my chin, turning my head, positioning me as he wanted me at any given moment. My hands rested on the velvet skin that covered the massive strength of the sides of his chest.
Our wet shorts were on the floor soon. Dan picked them up with his foot, hooking them with his toes. Lifting his leg, he handed them to me. I turned, opened the drier, threw them in, shut the door and restarted the machine. I made to turn back, but Dan pinned me in that position, bending me over so that I was pressed from knee to chest around the right angle of the drier. My dick ground into the front of the machine, its warm vibration penetrating me. Meanwhile, Dan had bent over on top of me and began to lick the back of my neck. He positioned his legs between mine. Without my knowing quite how he slicked it, his dick was at my door knocking to come in.
I was so loose from the night before he had little difficulty, and I was readily rewarded with the fullness of him. I gripped him the best I could, though somewhat sore, and set up a shiver for him. He moaned into my ear in appreciation. I held onto the sides of the machine while he set up an easy, unforced pace. He was tender and attentive and caring this time, keeping me, again, off balance. Knowing instinctively that it was what I wanted, he remained bent over me, maximizing the contact between us - skin on skin. Even his arms covered me as he stretched them out to interlock his fingers in mine. Pinioned between his warmth and the warmth of the machine, I relaxed completely. His only movement was the rocking of his hips as he slid to and fro within me, occasionally moving from side to side a bit to find new sensations. I helped him, raising up on tiptoe to help him pull out, then bending my knees as he glided back in.
Dan and I fit together perfectly. I'd been with men where one of us had to bend uncomfortably or spread his legs impossibly wide for the other to get a good angle of approach. But Dan and I matched. It was not just our heights, it was the respective lengths of our legs. When I stood in his arms, my back to his front, my head was at the perfect height to rest on his shoulder, my ass was at the perfect height for him to fuck me. We could stay there comfortably for days, me resting on him, he resting in me.
The weight of him on me was, in and of itself, also tremendously erotic. It was not that he was big - he only had an inch on me in height. It was that he was dense. His muscles, when flexed, were rock hard and they went from looking normal when he was relaxed to large and sharply defined when he was pumped. To bear Dan's weight was to know one was being taken by a man. He impressed.
Still, he kept his pace slow, not allowing either himself or me to climax. Instead, he kept me sustained at a level of excitement that on my best days alone I could not hold more than a short while. The drier worked its vibratory magic on my dick while he worked his own brand on the rest of me. After fifteen minutes, he had me whimpering from the inability to cope with the intensity of the delight he was inflicting.
He kept me there, thrust after thrust, minute after minute, careful to draw his crown over my prostate enough to keep my fuse short and lit, but just shy of allowing me to blow. My knees lost the ability to hold me up and I would have crumpled were it not for his weight pressing me against the machine. His tongue was at my ear, licking it, chewing gently, blowing his sweet, cooling breath over the wetness he had left. He began moving his arms, taking mine with them as our fingers were still interlocked. I could offer no resistance, not that I would were I able. I had no energy, it having been converted long before, entirely into sensation.
He lifted me up like a rag doll, straightening us so that, while my groin was still pressed against the machine, I was now vertical and leaning back onto his chest while he ground, in the longest most delicious thrusts, into my being. One arm straddled my chest, holding me to him, preventing me from falling. The other began playing with me - lightly stroking my sides with fingernail edges, running nipples between thumb and forefinger, tracing from chin, over Adam's apple, to sternum.
He began to drill faster, driven by some inner need I could not possibly understand. I felt him grow inside me from granite to tungsten, from large to impossibly large, from hot to searing. The thrusts became deeper, and more staccato. His breathing picked up, too. He held me so closely to his chest I could have become him.
He turned my head, came around my shoulder and swallowed me in a demanding, completely possessive kiss. That did it. I felt his hips shudder as the first spasm wracked his body. The jizz expanded the flesh under his urethra as it shot out. I could feel it pump into me. At once, I too was over the edge, twitching on him as if I had touched a live wire. My ass clamped down in spasm as my dick jetted my load onto the machine. This caused him to spasm and pump another load in me. We began a sympathetic rhythm, each's wave of pleasure both causing and caused by the other's. As the last shudder passed through us, the drier buzzed. Cycle complete.
"Like that, little man?" He said into my ear after we had caught our breath.
"Yeah, well, you do know how to stick the landing, don't you?!"
He laughed and licked the sweat from my neck.
After folding the laundry and picking up bathing suits for each of us, we made back toward the lake.
"Can I ask something?" I said.
"You can ask."
"That was really tender back there."
"That wasn't a question." Adam had taught him well! Hadn't I had this very conversation before?
"I mean, I loved it - don't get me wrong - you were fantastic! But I didn't expect it."
"That's still not a question, little man."
"Aren't you into...I don't know...don't you like it rougher?"
"I like it tender too. It's not about rough or tender for me. What's it about for me?" he asked in a third-grade teacher voice.
"Permission?"
"Good boy. And if I had wanted to go rough, would y'all have let me?"
"Of course!"
"So I didn't need to, then, did I."
It wasn't a question. While what he was saying made sense in an intellectual way, I had begun to be comfortable with the fact that I would never understand his motivations. Isn't that a strange thing for a psychological researcher to say? I think not. I could quantify, I could measure, I could describe, but I could not understand. Not empathetically, at least. He was out of my experience, and that was okay. He was taking me on a lovely ride, and that was enough.
"You amaze me," I said.
"You're not so bad yourself, little man." He patted my butt as we walked, and I giggled.
"I think you've grown since I met you. You're different, you know."
"You too, Mark."
He was right. I felt infinitely close to him as we walked on in silence.
At the beach, I threw my towel down next to Adam's. Brad was in the water, and the Alpha was lying alone, still soaking rays.
"I brought you a suit," I said.
"Mmm." He didn't move or open his eyes. He had gotten a good bit of color in the sun, and he shone from it. The boxers he wore were emerald green silk. I understood why they were such a commodity.
"Can we talk?"
"Yeah. What's up?"
"Can we talk about you?"
This got his attention. He turned onto his side, propped his head up on his bent arm, and looked at me.
"I'm all yours. What do ya want to know, champ."