Chad's mother returned from Montreal the Monday following the party, his grandmother in tow. Despite our efforts to cover the party up, his mother's senses were too keen - according to Chad, she knew the moment she entered the house. In the end, this worked to Chad's benefit, as he was never given the chance to concoct an alibi. She asked him what went on, and he responded with the truth. Though she was angry, he avoided any major consequence. Ever impressed with their rapport, I considered how my own parents would have reacted, and sighed in relief that I only had to speculate.
Chad stayed home after work that week to visit with his grandmother. At work, however, I was soon able to verify with confidence that our friendship had indeed been altered considerably - though I feared we'd avoid reality in a series of uncomfortable exchanges, Chad and I seemed in sync with each other. Though I was careful not to expose anything outright, we were much more playful than I had known. As an adult, I suppose this is the feeling I miss most. In Chad I had found someone who was honest enough to allow himself freedom of action and sentiment. Tack on the fact that a sixteen-year old doesn't possesses but a shallow concern for the future, and we had quite a rare connection. Neither of us seemed to worry about the life consequences inherent in our discoveries.
This time, though it flared with the same intensity, the wait for the weekend was sweet. Chad and I set our typical match for Saturday morning, and the days passed as they do in the lazy heart of summer.
Our match was particularly memorable, in that Chad pulled off his first sound defeat. Our styles differed greatly - he the baseline powerhouse, I the finesse-player with a tendency for severe angles and net play. On this Saturday Chad achieved an uncanny consistency, and I lacked my signature focus. We both played shirtless, and because I no longer felt the need to conceal my desire for him, my eyes lingered on him unchecked. Though I enjoyed every bit of his frame, I came to crave the dimples on his lower back above his cheeks intensely. As he'd walk back to the service line, I'd catch a glimpse of them, moving back and forth with this pattern of his gait.
Once I realized I was indeed two sets down and trailing in the third, I gained my focus (I hate to lose) and gave him quite a challenge. We finished the set in a tiebreak, which Chad won, though narrowly. I was frustrated.
The locker room at the club was typically packed on the hour and the half-hour as people arrived for their scheduled lessons or matches. Because Chad had been able to dispose of me so swiftly, however, our match ended earlier than usual. We entered the locker room to find it practically deserted. At that time in my life, I rarely knew defeat on the court, and as I entered the locker room ahead of my rival, my anger transferred to Chad. He made a quick joke about the match, and I shot him a look, rolling my eyes with a 'whatever.' Chad got the point, and shut up. We both peeled off our clothes in silence, and I headed for the showers.
Chad stopped me in my tracks, however, with a suggestion.
"Hey, I'm thinking of sitting in the steam room for a while. What do you think?"
My frustration ebbed, and I turned to see him standing at his locker, towel around his waist, head cocked to one side in a grin.
"Sure, why not? I could use to blow off some steam." The joke failed, but led to a chuckle from him nonetheless. We made our way over to the steam room at the back corner of the locker room, and paused at the door. Chad looked at me with that same cocky grin, then turned his head, scanning the room in a last check for people. I pushed open the door, and entered the steam room.
The heat hits like a wall when you enter a steam room, and this time I remember exhaling a deep breath upon entrance. I crossed the room and sat on the tile bench in the furthest corner. Chad came in behind me, pausing to turn the knob at the door. A loud hiss sounded, and steam began pouring out the vents in gusts. The room only got hotter, and I slouched on the bench in response.
The room entirely blocked by steam, Chad crossed to my side of the room. The outline that emerged from the steam was dreamlike - his torso cut in at his waist, his hipbones just visible above the towel tied to his waist. Chad sat right next to me, took a deep breath, and laid his back against the dripping wall.
I smiled and cocked my head in his direction, noticing along the way the small bugle rising from his crotch. My eyes hung on the bulge, which seemed to grow by the second, before my head rose to meet Chad's gaze. Barely a second passed before I leaned in to kiss him.
To my surprise, Chad moved away from me as I came in to his face. I exhaled, chuckling, and went back in. Again he moved away, this time in the other direction. For a split second he held me in slight confusion, before opening his mouth and slowly moving in my direction. I got his point, and held my head in position. Our lips touched in slow motion, and the sensation was insane, intense. A good tease can certainly temp me, and Chad seemed to know this.
We kissed passionately for several moments, the sweat dripping in sheets from our bodies. Our hands explored each other's backs, sliding around like oil wrestlers. Chad stopped the kiss, checked the door again, and slid his hand up under my towel. I did the same for him, though I took extra measure to move past his hard penis and undo the towel bunched at his waist. The sweat made stroking easy, a fine natural lubricant. With both of our hands at work, Chad and I went back to kissing. We sat on the tile bench in the steam, two teenagers jerking each other off in the heat.
All of a sudden, the hiss sounded again. The volume broke me from my ecstatic trance, and I jumped to my feet, fearing we had been caught. My towel stayed on the bench, and I knew immediately that I had feared for naught.
Chad rose after me, however, and pressed his body to my back. Wrapping his hands around my chest, he began kissing wildly at my neck and shoulders. My head arched back in a loud, uneven breath, and Chad slid his hands down my chest to my stomach. He hugged me harder, and buried his head where my head met my shoulder. His hands slid down to my dick, which poked out in front of me like a missile.
As he bent his knees a bit to reach my dick with his hand, his own erection found its way down my ass crack. Slick with sweat, the sudden intensity made me buckle a bit, my breath increasing. His hand reached my dick, and began stroking it slowly.
Chad's penis continued down my backside, popping under my crotch to where my inner thighs met. His dick slid in between my legs, and as he continued to hold me close and stroke me, he slowly began moving his midsection back and forth, his cock sliding in and out of my closed legs.
The feeling of his tight body, drenched with sweat, moving against mine, drove me nuts. My eyes closed, I let him direct the action. As we both got hotter and breathed deeper, Chad moved his dick further and further in and out from between my legs. I remember the particular sound of our sweat-drenched bodies making contact - a sort of slow, rhythmic slurp. I was certainly getting off by this, but Chad had me beat. His breath became a regular moan, then a groan with each thrust into my legs. Our bodies, overcome with ecstasy, began to buckle over at our waists under his movements.
Just when I felt Chad was about to lose it, indeed his hand slowed around my dick as he became blinded by his own imminent orgasm, a shadow passed by the door. Both stunned, we looked up to see the profiles of two men outside the door. We separated immediately, running back to grab our towels. The bodies lingered outside, across the room near the lockers. We hadn't been caught, but both of us still realized a need to stop. We both fell back onto the bench, wrapping our towels around our waists, and Chad shot me a glance of desperation. No laughter, just the realization of a missed climax.
As soon as our erections had eased, I got up and left the room. Chad followed behind me, and we both made our way to the showers. Our showers were taken for the most part in silence, though towards the end, with a quick glance around to assure we were alone in the room, Chad gave my dick a quick stroke, his hand slick with soap. I laughed a nervous laugh and pushed him away, though my dick registered and became half-hard again for a moment.
After drying and throwing on shorts and t-shirts, Chad and I made our way back to his house for lunch with his grandmother, who was set to leave that afternoon. As we followed the road the cut through the forest along the lakeside, my mind couldn't escape the scene inside the steam room.
Boldened by lust, I made my move.
"Hey, so, how much does it suck not to get off when you're that close?"
Chad stole a quick glance at me, smirking with a touch of that same desperation I had seen as soon as he pulled his dick from in between my legs. "It totally sucks, I mean I'm still fucking horny. Like I'm still buzzing from it."
"Well, that's OK." I said, taking advantage of his need to keep his eyes on the road.
I moved my hand over to the driver's side to his crotch. Indeed, as he had said, I could feel his dick through his shorts, still partly hard and twitching under my touch.
Chad's face immediately let go of any sign of frustration, and his glued his eyes ahead of him. His answer, no doubt, was 'go ahead, my friend.'
I caressed his dick for a moment, then moved to open his fly and set it free. Not fully hard when I reached my hand under the band of his briefs, I took out his dick and held it tight in my hand.
Chad didn't expect what came next, as I knew from the slight jerk of his hands on the steering wheel as I bent over and moved my head down to his penis.
"No, man, I don't know, I'm driving...shit!"
He had no choice. My lips wrapped around his dick, and I took him into my mouth. In the first seconds, I felt him expand to full erection, and Chad let out a long moan, conceding.
I placed my hand at the base of his shaft, and moved my mouth up and down over his dick, pausing at the head to grab a breath. I was aware of the danger, though at that age it only added to the pleasure.
Chad, however, knew not to trust himself. After a few jerks of the car from swerving, Chad found a dirt road and pulled off into it. Pulling up along the side of the road, Chad put the car in park and took his foot off the break, reclining back for more comfort. I gave him the best blowjob I could, it being my first, and soon he was moving his hips up and down into my mouth. His moans became grunts, and with a sudden inhalation Chad muttered, "Oh my God, I'm there man, holy shit!"
I felt his dick spasm, and I paused as he came. Jet after jet sprayed the back of my mouth, and Chad answered each with a huge sigh of relief. He continued for longer than either of us had ever come, and I did my best to take it all. Needing breath, however, I pulled away from his dick just in time for his last big spurt, which landed on my hand. I looked up at Chad as I swallowed, but he didn't look back. His faced was locked in sweet pain, his head thrust back against the headrest.
It was then I let out a laugh. Chad snapped back to reality, smiled, and shook his head as he gathered his breath. He looked down at my hand, still wrapped around his dick, and grabbed it with his own hand. He wiped the semen from my fingers onto his underwear, and held my hand in his. Lightly touching his hand to mine, slowly intertwining his fingers with mine, Chad's smile took on a depth that melted. He needn't say a word. We held this moment for a few moments, silent. Chad then leaned into me and gave me a long, hard kiss. Afterwards he reached down and pushed his now limp penis under his briefs, zippered his fly, and put the car in gear.
Chad talked through our match as we drove off to his house, elucidating the genius of his victory. Frustration now gone form my loss, I allowed his ego to flourish, as it only made mine do the same.
We were late for lunch, but his mother, of course, didn't really care.