Friends and Runners

FRIENDS AND RUNNERS by K. Nitsua. Copyright 2010 by the author.

Once more this is a story that takes as its starting point a true reminiscence found on the Net, and borrows situations and occasional turns of phrase from its source. I therefore must acknowledge and thank the original, anonymous author. Ken

Greg Combs recognized his old college roommate the second he walked into the Applebee's by the interstate. Adam was sitting in a booth near the entrance, facing the door, a smile on his face.

"Hey," was all he said as Greg approached.

He rose and clasped his hand firmly. "You made it."

Greg was at a loss for words, so he contented himself with a smile and a nod. He took a seat across from Adam and finally found something to say.

"Well. The power of Facebook."

Adam nodded.

Greg looked at the glass in Adam's hand. "What are you drinking?"

The server came up then and Greg ordered the same. He looked across the table again.

"Wow. Twenty-five years. You look great, man."

Truth was Adam did look good, though his hair was a little thinner and grayer than Greg remembered. He hadn't let himself go, the athlete who'd made Greg's sophomore year at college so memorable. Funny how a chance meeting could change your life...

It was the late 1970s and the start of his second year at the state U. All the world, and especially universities, seemed to be in a liberal swing. He had rented a basement apartment off-campus, sight unseen. It turned out to be one of two studio apartments with a shared front entrance and connecting bathroom and shower. Not much space but he didn't need much, and it was cheap.

It didn't take long for him to meet his neighbor who lived in the other studio. Greg had only been there a day when there was a knock on the door. He opened it to see a lanky, dark-haired boy dressed in t-shirt and shorts, the shirt soaked through and clinging to a hard slender chest. He smiled and stuck out his hand.

"Adam Kryznak. Sorry I'm a bit sweaty. I just got through jogging."

"Greg Combs. Nice to meet you."

"What are you studying?"

"Business."

"Cool. I'm in kinesiology."

"What's that?"

Adam grinned. "Fancy name for phys ed. I'm doing that and teacher certification. Going to teach or coach at the high school level. Say," he said, "You into jogging at all? I could use someone to run with."

Greg scratched his head. "Well, some. I was on the JV track team in high school, but haven't run at all since then. Maybe I should get back into it."

"Sounds cool. Got any time tomorrow?"

The next day, they went off on what Adam called a "short run." It was a warm day, and the run turned out to be two or three miles too long for Greg's out-of-shape legs. He didn't want to admit that he was getting winded, especially since he knew the other boy was running off his usual pace to make things easier for him.

For what seemed like an eternity they ran through campus, onto an outdoor track, then finally circled back toward their place.

Greg could barely get the words out as they ran up their street. "Listen, man, I'm going to quit. You go on if you want."

"Really?" Adam said. He'd barely started to break a sweat. "Okay. See you back at the house."

Greg stumbled down the steps and into the apartment. In the front hallway he bent over as his body was racked with the dry heaves. He struggled out of his sodden clothes, got in the shower and stood trembling under the warm spray. After a while he began to feel better, though he was exhausted and his legs felt like lead. He dried himself off and put the towel around his waist, stumbled through the door into his apartment and collapsed onto the bed. In a few moments he was fast asleep.

Sometime later a light knock on the door woke him up. Greg looked up, groggy, to see Adam coming toward him from the bathroom--he'd left the connecting door wide open.

His neighbor held out a crumpled bundle. "You left these. Where do you want them?"

Greg recognized his jogging clothes, which he'd been too bushed to think about. "Oh-just throw them in that laundry basket next to the wall."

"Are you okay?" Adam asked, concern in his eyes.

"Guess it was a bit too much, the first time out," Greg said. He tried to move and winced. "God, my legs are killing me."

"I'll fix that," Adam said. "Stay like that, on your stomach."

Greg realized he was wearing nothing but a towel. "Should I-" he started to say, but Adam had already disappeared.

He returned in a moment with a bottle of baby oil. "I was in a sports massage class last semester. We'll see how much of it stuck." Adam sat on the edge of the bed and poured a capful of the oil into his hand. "Now just lie there and relax."

Greg didn't feel very relaxed at all. This was a strange situation he was in, hardly a stitch on and someone he'd really just met laying his hands on him. If Adam felt anything similar he didn't let on. He worked on the soles of Greg's feet and his calves with brisk, confident strokes. Despite himself Greg began to relax. Adam's sure touch felt good.

Then he started as the towel around his waist was unfastened and parted. He whipped his head around. "What are you doing?"

Adam's tone didn't change, nor his strokes. "Your thigh muscles and glutes, man. That's where you're really sore, right? Don't worry," he grinned, "No one's looking. Now put your head down. It's not good for your back to twist like that."

Once again Greg obeyed. He was glad his face was hidden so Adam couldn't see him blushing. His neighbor's touch was strong, so strong that a few of his strokes made him grunt. Still, the massage was working. The soreness was receding and a warm glow was taking its place. He closed his eyes, and his breathing grew deep and even.

Presently Adam's strokes grew slower, then stopped. He spanked Greg lightly on the butt. "All done, man. How do you feel?"

"Incredible," Greg said. "Can't thank you enough."

"Don't mention it. Got to go jump in the shower now. Don't get up too soon, take it slow."

Greg waited until he heard the shower go on before he got up. He wiped the excess oil from his lower body with the towel, trying not to notice his semi-erect cock swinging between his thighs.

"So what made you look me up on Facebook, Greg?"

Adam's tone was casual but nevertheless Greg stiffened. It was a fair question. He shrugged.

"You know how it is. You've got time to kill at work one day, you start thinking about old friends. Especially ones with unusual last names," he offered, smiling at Adam.

"Yeah, I bet I was easy to find. And not even living that far from you."

Their dinners came at that moment, sparing for the moment the need for further conversation. They attacked their food with gusto, washing it down with more wine. After a while Greg began to relax. Adam had been perfectly pleasant so far. The evening might turn out to be okay.

"You must still be running, judging from the way you look," he said.

Adam nodded. "I've started to do more and more biking too. I'm doing my first triathlon this year. Better late than never."

"Wow, that's great." Greg's admiration was genuine.

"What about you? Still keeping up the running?"

Greg shifted, uncomfortable. "I've got to admit--not much. I never was that good at it, you remember. I work out regularly, though--weights, elliptical--that kind of thing." He gestured to Adam. "I have you to thank for turning me on to exercise. I always wondered why you stuck with me. I was pathetic that first time."

Adam inclined his head with a small smile, but didn't say anything.

After that disastrous first run Greg thought that would be the end of it, but to his surprise Adam asked him a couple of days later if he wanted to do it again. Greg begged off-his legs were still stiff as boards. It was probably about a week later that they went on another jog together. In the meantime Greg had gone to the campus track for a couple of solo outings so as not to embarrass himself again. Sure enough, he did a little better and they returned to their place together this time.

"Like another massage?" Adam asked, when they got inside.

Greg hesitated, remembering the strange reaction he'd had the first time. "I don't know," he finally said.

Adam smiled and cuffed him gently. "C'mon. I need the practice."

Greg shrugged. "Okay."

"Great. Get your things off, put a towel on the bed and get on your stomach like last time. I'll be there in a minute."

In his room Greg slipped off his t-shirt and shorts and stood, uncertain, in his jockstrap. He decided to keep it on. A few moments after he lay on the bed he heard Adam come in.

"Okay if I keep the jock on?" Greg asked.

"Doesn't matter," his friend replied, as he spread the oil on his skin. The treatment was pretty much the same as before, though Adam took more time and added more pressure. Greg began to relax again. He let out his breath in a sigh.

"It's a great stress reliever, isn't it?" Adam said.

"Sure is."

"Not just for sport, but for other stuff. I'm going to put up a sign offering backrubs during exam week."

"Good idea," Greg said.

"Course, it's not just exams that get guys stressed," Adam said. "You got a girlfriend?"

Greg raised his head, surprised at the suddenly personal question. "Uh-no."

"Better get one. Got to keep those pipes cleared, man." Adam was kneading Greg's buttocks with long, vigorous strokes. Suddenly Greg started. He whipped his head around. Adam was grinning, his fingers still inside the pouch of Greg's jockstrap, gently rolling his balls around.

"Yep, they feel pretty full to me."

"Cut that out," Greg protested.

"Aw, relax," Adam said, though he did withdraw his fingers. "I'm just messing around with you. You're not going to turn gay or anything."

Greg shook his head and lay back down. "You're crazy."

"Yeah, and you love it." Adam slapped his butt. "All done."

Greg rolled over. Adam looked thoughtfully at the swelling pouch of his jock. "You really ought to get laid, man. Look at you, throwing wood like that."

He blushed, but countered, "Like it's so easy."

His friend shrugged. "Anytime you need some help, just say the word." Adam got up and left before Greg could ask him exactly what he meant.

They were done and the waiter cleared their plates. Adam declined dessert and Greg followed suit. Over cups of black coffee silence fell.

He could shake Adam's hand, tell him how glad he was to have seen him, get up and go, and that would be the end of it. Greg didn't want to do that. He thought Adam probably felt the same way. Though he had been friendly and distant during dinner, his old college roommate wasn't making any move to end the evening. Instead he sat, sipping his coffee, occasionally catching Greg's eye.

"So you're at the college here now?" Greg knew that already, but he had to say something.

Adam nodded. "Coaching track, teaching some phys ed courses."

"So you ended up doing what you wanted to do. Good for you."

A shrug. "I guess. I'm not raking in the big bucks. Do some sports massage on the side, so I can make a little extra. Still, it's just me, so I'm not doing so bad."

Greg said, "I'm single myself. Newly single."

"Divorced?"

He nodded.

"How long were you married?"

"Eight years. I have a little girl, six years old. She lives with her mom."

"What happened?"

"Not sure." He knew exactly what had happened but he didn't feel ready to talk about it. "She was--is a nice person. Didn't work out." He had to change the subject. "So you're still doing massage? You were damn good at that. Turned me on to that too. I still do it."

"You do massage?"

Greg shook his head. "No, I mean, I get massaged. It's a great stress-reliever. You told me that."

He didn't tell Adam just then that his favorite masseur was a muscular man who was happy to indulge Greg's request that he wear only a jockstrap when he worked. Greg wore one too, though it always ended up on the floor by the end of the massage. He knew it was going to be peeled off when Tom's thick fingers penetrated his pouch and began to juggle his balls gently, slickening them with the massage oil.

By mid-semester the two friends had fallen into the habit of going running together once or twice, though Greg would occasionally beg off when he had an test coming up or a paper due. By now he looked forward to their runs, not only because he was able to keep up now but because of Adam's post-run treatments. He always kept his jock on during the massages and always got a finger stuck into his pouch at the end.

He'd started wondering about how to reciprocate, when Adam answered his unspoken question a few weeks later. "Hey," he said, as they walked into their place after a run, "After I do your legs today, want to do mine?"

"Uh...sure," Greg replied. "I really won't know what I'm doing, though. I mean, you're the athletic training expert."

"Just try and do the same strokes on me that I've been doing on you." Adam smirked. "Don't worry, I'll let you know how you're doing."

Soon they were both on Greg's bed, stripped to their jocks. Greg looked at Adam's muscular back and long legs, glistening with sweat and oil. He felt his cock start to swell in his pouch, as it so often had this semester.

He did his best to duplicate Adam's massage, his friend giving him occasional instructions. As Greg was finishing up with a few long strokes up the backs of Adam's legs an idea came into his head. On the last one he let his hands slide onto Adam's firm butt, under the straps of his jock. He tugged the pouch down and slipped a finger inside. Adam's balls were large and heavy. He raised his head to find his friend looking up at him, stifling a grin.

"Didn't think you'd have the nerve to do that," Adam said.

Greg shrugged. "You said do whatever you'd been doing to me."

"That I did." Adam rose and, to Greg's surprise, clasped him in a quick embrace. It was the first time he had ever done more than shake his hand or clap him on the shoulder. "Thanks, man. You did good." Then he picked up his clothes and was gone.

Greg sat unmoving on his bed. His cock was pressing painfully against his pouch and he let it spring free. The small bottle of baby oil Adam used for their massages lay on the bed-he'd forgotten it. Greg reached for it and poured some into his hand, then took hold of his cock. He closed his eyes as he began to jerk his rod. His mouth opened, his breath quickened as images of his friend played in his mind: Adam running alongside him with sinewy grace, Adam grinning at him in his crooked way, Adam lying on his bed naked except for his jockstrap.

Then he thought of Adam jiggling his balls inside his jock pouch. That did it. Greg's body pitched forward. He fought to stifle his moans as the orgasm shook his body. Instinctively he pushed his spurting cock back into the pouch so he wouldn't soil the bed, and felt cum soak through the rough fabric and through his fingers. When he was sure it wouldn't drip onto the covers he let go and raised his hand, looking at the glistening sticky fluid on it, still breathing hard.

His door to their shared bathroom stood half open. What if Adam had heard him jerking off? Greg stared at the connecting door at the other end, half-dreading, half-hoping it would open. Nothing happened. Finally with a sigh he rose on rubbery legs to get cleaned up.

"So you get massages from a man. That's interesting," his former college roommate said.

"Why interesting?"

There was a definite tightness about Adam's smile. "I wouldn't have thought letting another guy touch you would be something you'd be into now."

Greg lowered his head, nervous. They were getting close to things they had so far avoided. He wanted to clear the air, but his nerve failed him and he tried to change the subject.

"Whatever happened to that girl you used to date? What was her name-Jana?"

Adam stared blankly. "Who? Oh, her." He shrugged. "I have no idea. Haven't been with a woman since. Realized I was avoiding the truth."

"The truth?"

"About me, Greg. That I was gay." Adam's gaze pierced him, his eyes narrow. "Can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"Why did you want to get together tonight?"

Greg stammered something incoherent, then fell silent.

He had admitted to himself that he was attracted to Adam, but he fought to keep his feelings hidden. No way was word going to get around that he was a "queer." He thought about not going jogging with his apartment mate any more, but decided against it. Adam would ask why, and Greg wasn't sure he could think up a convincing answer. Besides, he didn't want to give up their times together. It was odd-Adam had a very active social life that included his athletic training buddies and a girlfriend, Jana, a tall blonde who Adam had introduced to Greg when he'd brought her back to his place one night after a date. Greg had been kept awake by their muffled giggles and groans of pleasure late into that night, but he hadn't minded. He had lain in his bed listening to their furtive lovemaking, his own cock hard in his hand as he pictured Adam's rangy body engaged in the act.

Adam could have left Greg to fend for himself socially, but he continued to seek out his companionship for their jogs, which couldn't have been in the least bit challenging for him. Greg wondered whether Adam had guessed his feelings and was toying with him. Yet his friendliness seemed so open, so genuine.

Greg couldn't figure it out, so eventually he gave up and decided to let events run their course. Their jogs together continued, once a week or so, and so did the mutual exchange of massages afterward. By unspoken agreement they always kept their jocks on during their sessions. Greg no longer bothered to hide the fact that Adam's touch made him hard, and he was sure that Adam was throwing wood as well when he rubbed him down. He'd felt his friend's hard shaft in his pouch at the end of his massage-they always finished by reaching inside their jock pouches and jiggling each other's balls. That little gesture had become so routine they didn't even talk about it. There was never any other "queer" activity or touching.

All that changed one December afternoon, just before finals.

It was a cold, clear afternoon, the sun shining brightly. They figured they'd be okay in their usual running costumes, even though snow lay on the ground from a recent fall. Once they got moving it wasn't too bad, but by the end of their long run the sun was dipping beneath the horizon and their icy t-shirts clung to their backs. When they got back to their apartment they fairly tripped over each other in their haste to be the first to get inside.

In the front hallway they jumped up and down, whooping and rubbing their bare arms, trying to get warm.

"Jesus. Is the heat even on in this dump?" Adam said.

"D-don't know," Greg chattered. He was wishing they didn't share a bathroom-it meant only one of them could get in a hot shower right away.

Adam read his mind. "Go jump in the shower, man," he said. "You'll catch your death of cold."

Greg shook his head. "No, you can go first."

His friend grinned at him. "Don't be macho. Just go."

Greg glared in mock annoyance, even though his teeth were chattering. "So you get to be the hero? Screw that."

"Oh for Pete's sake. We're both freezing. Come on." Before Greg could say anything Adam grabbed his hand and pulled him into his apartment and into their shared bathroom. His friend turned the tap on full blast. Steaming jets of water spouted from the showerhead.

"Strip and get in, quick," Adam urged. Greg was shivering uncontrollably and in no condition to disobey. He peeled off his sodden clothes and jumped in. It wasn't until the hot water had run over him for at least a minute that his muscles unclenched and he relaxed with a sigh, his eyes closed.

"Feeling better?"

Greg turned at the sound of Adam's voice. His friend had stripped down to his jockstrap and was skinning it down his legs.

"What are you doing?" Greg demanded.

"Getting in, what does it look like?"

Before Greg could say anything Adam was naked and standing in the shower next to him, so close that Greg could feel the chill off his skin. He moved so his friend could get under the showerhead.

"Thanks, man." Adam turned his back and let out a whoop as he rubbed the hot water into his skin. He faced Greg again and grinned.

"Better, huh?"

Greg nodded, aware that his heart was beating fast. Of course they'd been nearly naked together many times by now, but never this close. The rushing water flattened the hairs on Adam's chest and stomach and made his skin glisten. His abdominal muscles rippled every time he moved.

Greg couldn't stop his gaze from wandering further down. He'd never seen Adam's penis close up. It was long and lean, just like Adam, and cut, so that the darker conical head was clearly visible. As Greg continued to stare Adam cupped his genitals with one hand. Greg jerked his head up to find himself looking into his friend's smiling face. He blushed, and felt his own cock swelling between his legs. He didn't care. All his defenses were down and the only thing that mattered right then was the closeness of Adam.

He shivered as he felt Adam's touch, even though it was only a hand on his shoulder.

"Ready for your massage?"

Greg nodded, swallowing hard. He stepped out of the shower, quickly dried himself off and headed into his room without waiting for Adam. As he climbed onto his bed he heard the shower stop. The room was chilly and he covered himself with the thin bedspread as he lay on his stomach.

He heard footsteps enter. "Forgot I had this space heater," Adam said. "You should keep that spread over you until it warms this place up, though."

He knelt by Greg's bed and plugged the heater in. Adam was naked, his skin still a bit damp from the shower.

"Aren't you cold?" Greg asked.

His friend smiled. "Oh, it'll warm up fast. Besides, I'll be working, don't forget."

They sometimes chatted during their massage exchanges, but today the room was silent except for sound of their breathing and the soft whirring of the heater when it cycled on. By now the winter sun had set and the light that filtered into the basement apartment was growing dim, the red glow of the heater standing out against the gray.

For a while Adam kept the spread over Greg's body, uncovering the parts he was working on, but after a while he drew it off and dropped it on the floor. It seemed to Greg that his friend's strokes on his legs were slower and longer today, the tips of Adam's fingers reaching places that made him tingle with delight. His cock was hard beneath him, and he could feel moisture from the tip forming a damp spot on the sheet.

Adam began to work on his back and shoulders, dipping his head in concentration so that Greg could feel his warm breath on his neck. Despite his arousal his friend's skillful strokes had their usual effect, and he sighed and relaxed his body into the mattress.

Suddenly Greg started awake. By now it was almost dark. Adam's hand was resting on his back.

"Did...did I fall asleep?"

"Yeah. Just for a few minutes," Adam replied. He patted Greg's back. "I took it as a compliment."

Greg turned over, his swollen cock sticking to his belly. "Want me to do you now?"

Adam's smile was mysterious in the fading light. He shook his head. "I want...this."

Greg gasped as he felt a strong hand grasp his cock and begin to stroke it slowly. "I...but..."

His friend's smile faded, his stare grew intent. Adam's hand never stopped moving and Greg made no attempt to remove it.

"C'mon, man. I've seen the way you look at me. You've copped your feels too. You know you want to."

Greg didn't argue the point, but he had to say one thing. "But you...you have a girlfriend. What about Jana?"

Adam smiled again. "I like Jana, sure. I like you too, Greg." He bent his head down and a second later Greg gasped, "Oh shit!" as a warm, wet mouth engulfed his cock.

Adam took it slow at first, wetting the head of Greg's penis with gentle strokes of his tongue, sliding slowly up and down the shaft. Greg propped himself on his elbows, watching his friend blow him with rapt attention. Adam's eyes searched for and found Greg's, gauging his friend's reaction. Satisfied, he turned back to the task at hand, increasing the speed and pressure of his strokes. Suddenly Adam pulled his balls downward, and Greg felt the orgasm rise in his body.

"Oh God, I'm cumming!" he gasped, before coherent speech failed him. He let out a series of hoarse cries, his muscles locked in a spasm of ecstasy, as he exploded into Adam's mouth in hot spurts. Choked gurgles rose from Adam's throat as Greg's cum leaked from the corners of his mouth and down his pulsing shaft, but he never let go, taking him down to the root over and over, slurping up the excess, not stopping until every drop was gone and Greg's cock was beginning to soften.

Adam let go of his spent organ and straightened. Greg lay flat on his back on the bed, his chest still heaving with the force of his release. His friend patted his stomach.

"Stay there. Just relax."

He took the bedspread and covered Greg with it, then got up and left. A few seconds later Greg saw a crack of light under the door, and heard water running in the bathroom. His eyelids grew heavy and he yawned.

Sometime later he awoke to darkness and silence. The space heater Adam had brought had cycled off and the room was warm. Greg clicked the lamp by his bedside on and checked the time--quarter past seven. He lay back and looked up at the low ceiling of his room, thinking about what had happened that afternoon.

"Well," Greg finally said, "I've thought about you over the years. We never exactly resolved some things."

"No shit." Adam's voice was sardonic. "And why was that?"

Greg hung his head, ashamed at the memory.

He looked around at the apartment that had been his home for a semester. It was bare except for the bed, stripped of its sheets, the dresser and the desk, none of which were his. A few boxes filled with his meager possessions were piled by the door, ready to be loaded into his car.

It was a few days after Christmas. He'd come back now because he knew Adam wouldn't be around.

After that cold day when they had showered together and Adam had taken their mutual massage to a new level, Greg hadn't said anything about it. Inside his mind was in turmoil--he was torn between hoping it would never happen again and hoping that it would.

Adam must have taken Greg's silence to mean he'd enjoyed the experience. Before the semester ended he sucked Greg off two more times. Once it happened in the front hallway after another run, when Adam knelt, pulled Greg's cock out of the pouch of his jockstrap and eased it into his mouth almost before Greg knew what was happening. The second time had been late one night during exam week.

Greg had studied until the library closed and trudged home in the freezing darkness. He had assumed Adam was in bed when he stepped into a hot shower to try and warm himself up and relax before getting a few hours' sleep. He had turned to find his friend standing in the bathroom naked, smiling. To Greg's startled "What are you doing?" Adam had put his finger to his lips. Then he stepped into the tub and got on his knees under the rushing water.

He could have stopped Adam--Greg knew it. But he hadn't tried. Each time instead he'd let his life spurt out of his cock and down Adam's throat. Adam didn't ask him to reciprocate, or seemed to mind that Greg didn't participate or show any affection. He swallowed every drop of Greg's cum, then wiped his mouth and smiled as he got up and left, leaving his friend gasping and rubber-kneed.

Greg realized one day that all thoughts of dating or finding a girlfriend had long since flown from his mind, that all he was thinking about was when Adam might blow him again. Guilt and revulsion washed over him. He wasn't queer, he knew that. It was Adam who had gotten him into this perverted stuff. He had to get out.

Just before exams ended Greg saw an ad posted in the student union for an apartment that was opening up for spring semester. It was larger than the one he was living in, was on the second floor and had its own bathroom. The rent was a bit more than he was paying now, but the advantages more than made up for that. Besides, it was closer to the business school where most of his classes now were going to be. He went to look at it and signed the lease on the spot. It meant giving up a month's rent on his current place, but it was worth it.

So here he was, cleaning out his old place. He thought of Adam coming back from the holidays and finding him gone, and guilt pricked his conscience. He had to at least write him a note.

He rummaged in his boxes and came up with a pencil and a sheet of paper. He scrawled a few noncommittal words about finding a better place to live, closer to his classes, etc. "Hope we can still keep up the running," he wrote, knowing that it would never happen.

He left the folded note stuck in the doorjamb of Adam's apartment, just above the doorknob. He carried his boxes up the steps and into the car, slid his keys under the door to the empty apartment and drove away.

He came back to college the following semester with apprehension, nervous that he would run into his old roommate on campus, but he never saw Adam or heard from him again.

"Okay. I was a jerk, I admit that," Greg said.

"Chickenshit just about covers it," Adam said, his jaw set.

They were standing in the parking lot by Greg's car. Traffic rushed past on the nearby interstate.

Adam's eyes were like laser beams, burning holes of accusation in his soul. "Ever wonder why you never ran into me on campus after you moved out?"

Greg shook his head.

"I dropped out of school that spring. Couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't study."

"Why didn't you say something? Track me down?"

"Would you've been happy if I had?"

Silence. Adam snorted. "I was such a self-hating idiot. Blamed myself. Took a long while and some good therapy to realize I was the one who'd been screwed over."

"So I ruined your life."

"I didn't say that. I've done okay. Got past all that. As far as I'm concerned you're a mistake I made long ago."

"So why'd you come see me tonight?" Greg threw the same question Adam had asked earlier back at him.

For the first time a flicker of uncertainty passed across his former roommate's eyes.

"Want to know the real reason I got divorced?" It was past time to say it. "I got caught having sex in a men's room down at the local mall. Sting operation."

Adam's eyebrows rose. "Wow," was all he said.

"Had a good lawyer who got it knocked down to disorderly conduct, a fine and community service. Could have been worse. My wife freaked, though. Took the kid and left."

"Jesus."

"You're not the only one who's had a hard time. Or gone into therapy. I found out things too." To his dismay Greg realized his voice was starting to shake. "I've never really let myself get close to anyone." He paused to collect himself. "Except you."

"Isn't it a little late for all of this?" There was definitely something in Adam's eyes now, anguish mixed with defiance.

Greg took a deep breath before he answered. "Not if you feel the same way I do. Do you?"

Silence. He took the plunge.

"Want to come back to my hotel room and find out?"

Adam stared, then threw his head back and laughed. For an instant he looked exactly like the nineteen-year old boy who'd knocked on Greg's door so long ago.

"So. Now you want what you missed out on?"

Greg nodded.

"What if I don't want to give it to you?"

The two men locked eyes. "I think you do," Greg said, very softly.

Adam's gaze was steely. "If we do this I'm making no promises. I'd be doing you just like any other guy I pick up. Once it's over we're done."

"Fair enough. For what it's worth I've been wanting to fuck you since the first moment I walked in tonight."

Another laugh. "You sure aren't the shy guy anymore, are you?"

Greg allowed himself to smile. "I'm staying just down the road. Want to follow me?"

They faced each other in Greg's spartan hotel room, his bag, unopened, sitting on the floor. Adam's hands were on his hips.

"Show time," was all he said.

Greg put his hand on Adam's chest and let it rove up to his cheek, rough with stubble. When Adam didn't move he drew closer, cupped his face and gently touched his lips to the other man's. Adam's hand grasped his wrist.

"Just one thing," he said. "We start, we go all the way. No holding back. Got it?"

Greg nodded. Adam smiled, and his mouth opened. Their kiss started out gentle and playful but quickly became passionate, their lips and tongues tangling, their teeth clashing together as small moans and whimpers rose from their throats. Adam pushed Greg onto the bed as they continued to make out. Finally they broke apart, breathing hard.

"I think you owe me a blow job," Adam said.

Greg dropped to his knees by the bed and beckoned Adam closer. His own cock pressed hard and painful against his fly but that would have to wait. Quickly he got Adam's shoes off and his jeans down his thighs. His friend's cock sprang up as long and straight as he remembered it, clear liquid oozing from the perfectly shaped head. Greg had it in his mouth in an instant, taking the rod down to its root, Adam's coarse dark pubes tickling his nose. His hands slid up and found the nipples on Adam's hard pectorals.

Greg looked up from between his friend's legs as he worked. The other man had propped himself up on his elbows, watching with a slight smile.

"You're good," Adam observed. Greg let go of his erection and grinned.

"The guy in the men's room thought so too. Going to give me your load?"

Adam chuckled. "Eventually. First, get naked." He pulled off his own shirt.

He remarked when Greg had complied, "Nice muscles. You have been working out," before drawing Greg to him with a hand on each butt cheek. A moment later Greg threw his head back and closed his eyes as Adam's mouth engulfed his cock. It was as if they'd never been apart. "Fuck, that's nice," he whispered.

"Mm hmm," Adam said, not letting go of his prize. After a while he maneuvered Greg onto the bed and into a position where they could both get at each other's cocks. As their mouths completed the magic circle Greg abandoned himself to the joy of being with Adam. He felt his friend's hands urging him upward and found himself on all fours, Adam underneath him. Fingers parted his cheeks and a moment later something soft and wet touched his asshole. Adam's tongue did unbelievable things and soon Greg was moaning helplessly with his head down on the bed, Adam kneeling behind him tongue-fucking his hole for all he was worth.

"Fuck me, Adam," he pleaded. "There's stuff in the bathroom."

Adam got up. When he returned he was spreading hand lotion on his erection. He caught Greg's eye and grinned. "Like I said, all the way. That means swapping sperm. I'm clean. You good with that?"

"I'm not leaving here without part of you in me."

His friend laughed. "That's the spirit. I'm collecting your deposit too before this night's over. Maybe twice."

Greg would remember that night for the rest of his life, way beyond the few days that he walked in a stiff and unnatural manner. Adam made him stand by the foot of the bed, bend and rest his elbows on the mattress.

"Head down," he commanded, pushing Greg's face into the spread.

Greg turned enough to see Adam get into position behind him, holding his cock. He felt the tip nudge his hole, then jerked his head up and screamed as what felt like a billy club surged into him in one mighty thrust, splitting him open. "Fuck!"

Adam's pelvic bone slammed into him and pressed against his body, holding his cock firmly all the way inside as Greg squirmed and tried to get away. Strong arms pinned Greg's hands to the bed. Adam's hot breath tickled his ear.

"C'mon, man. You can take it. I'm not that big."

"Asshole!" Greg shouted.

A chuckle. "It'll be easier if you relax."

There was nothing he could do but obey. When Adam was sure his resistance was gone he straightened and took hold of his hips. Then his body began to move.

Greg didn't know how long Adam fucked him in that uncomfortable and humiliating position. His conqueror kept him constantly off balance, not knowing what to expect. Adam would draw his cock out slowly, slowly, letting Greg feel every inch emerge from his body before slamming it back in, drawing a yell of mixed pain and pleasure from his captive. Every so often he stepped up the pace of his thrusts until his cock was drilling Greg's hole, pounding his butt, making the bed shake with the force of his fucking. After a while he made Greg place one foot on the bed, painfully stretching his hamstring, changing the angle of entry and hitting new places inside him with the blunt club of his cock head.

Soon coherent thought drained out of Greg's mind. The only words he could utter were obscenities. The only place he could feel anything was in his asshole--he couldn't even feel his cock as he tried to jack himself off. It was if Adam was fucking his entire body and brain. Greg couldn't imagine his cock ever not being inside him.

"Get on the bed and flip over," Adam commanded. There was no disobeying. As soon as Greg was on his back Adam grabbed his hips and slid his butt to the edge of the mattress. He knelt and thrust his tongue into Greg's stretched, gaping hole, tender with the abuse it had already received. Greg took hold of his legs and raised them as high as he could to give Adam maximum access. He knew this was just a momentary reprieve, and sure enough Adam straightened and guided his cock, which had never gotten soft, back toward his hole. His eyes locked on Greg's and there was a slight smile on his face as he rammed it home again and started fucking him in this new position.

"How're you doing?" Adam asked.

Greg shook his head, his jaw slack. The words came out with an effort.

"I'm yours, man. Forever."

Adam grinned, his abs rippling with each thrust. "That's what I like to hear."

"Give me that load. Please."

"I like the sound of that. Beg some more."

"Please. Please."

Adam's smile grew wider and his thrusts accelerated to machine speed. Soon his jaw set and his face contorted, turning a deep red as first hissing breaths, then strangled cries escaped from him through clenched teeth. Finally he emitted a triumphant "Yeah!" and threw his head back, gave one last thrust and rammed his cock all the way inside. Greg could feel it pulsing as it emptied its load into him.

Adam's chest heaved with the force of his orgasm. Long moments passed before he slumped forward, still panting, his hands on the bed. He opened his eyes and smiled.

Greg tried to grasp his cock to stroke himself off and finish it. Adam grabbed his hand, shaking his head.

"Not yet."

He pulled out of Greg and knelt down, pushing on the other man's thighs with his hands, keeping his legs high in the air. Greg felt Adam's breath tickle his raw, sensitized asshole.

"Push it out."

"What?"

"Push it out, man. C'mon."

Whimpering a little with the effort, Greg bore down and felt warm wetness trickle out of him. He gasped as Adam's mouth made contact, slurping up his own jizz.

"Fuck what are you doing?!" Greg gasped as Adam rose and clambered onto the bed, cheeks bulging. A moment later he squealed in muffled protest as his friend's mouth clamped onto his, forcing the cum that had been in his ass inside. The bitter salty taste filled his mouth as his throat opened under the pressure and he swallowed. Their mouths continued to tangle in a bruising open-mouthed kiss lubricated with semen until Adam finally released him.

"Jesus," Greg said, dizzy with mingled revulsion and delight. His own cock was ready to burst, hard as a rock.

He heard Adam's throaty chuckle. "Like I said, all the way. You get me at both ends tonight."

"Fuck that's hot."

Adam nodded in satisfaction. "You've been a good boy. Now it's your turn. Stay there."

Greg thought he couldn't be surprised any more that night, but he was wrong. Adam left and walked into the bathroom. When he came back his grin was wider than ever.

"What are you doing?" Greg demanded.

"Collecting your deposit." Adam climbed back onto the bed, his partially softened cock glistening with cum, and squatted above Greg's body. He took hold of Greg's organ.

"Oh God," Greg had time to say before the squeezing heat of Adam's asshole surrounded his cock. His head went back, his eyes glazed over as Adam began to ride him with fast, hard motions, his powerful thighs working, his internal muscles keeping his cock in a viselike grip.

"Oh...Oh...Oh fuck I'm cumming!"

He felt his entire body contract in a spasm of ecstasy as he exploded into Adam's innards in hard spurts. His friend never stopped moving and the welter of sensations from his crotch quickly became unbearable.

"Oh God, stop...please stop...Ahhh!"

Adam had pulled up off his still pulsating cock, turned himself around and taken Greg into his mouth, swallowing the last of Greg's load. He squirmed and thrashed as Adam cleaned his cock off, unbearably sensitive in the aftermath of orgasm. At last his partner was satisfied and let go. He lay next to Greg and took him into his arms. They embraced, their bodies sticking together with their combined sweat and semen.

Greg let his head rest on Adam's shoulder. He was drained and exhausted, feeling the effects of what had to be the roughest sex he'd ever had. His asshole burned from Adam's merciless fucking. His balls ached from the force with which they'd hurled out their sperm.

He couldn't stop smiling.

He felt Adam move next to him. He raised his head and looked into his friend's eyes. They were no longer angry or challenging, just sleepy. Adam yawned and smiled.

"Took a lot out of me," he said.

Greg took his face in his hands and kissed him. "Thanks," he said.

"Welcome."

"You're staying the night, right?"

"If you want."

Greg turned onto his back with a sigh of contentment. "Damn I feel good." He asked, "So what's your calendar like? Maybe you can come visit on your next break. I'd love to show you the house."

Silence. He looked into Adam's eyes, suddenly anxious. Adam shrugged.

"Remember what I said. I made no promises."

Greg's eyes widened. "So this is it? That's what you're saying?"

Adam sighed. "Look, we had a great time tonight. Don't make any more of it than that."

Greg's eyes searched his face. He shook his head. "I don't believe you."

No response from Adam. Greg said, "Bodies don't lie. You had to feel something, the way we were together. Why are you pretending it didn't happen?"

Another shrug. "Maybe I'm just a good actor."

Greg's face crumbled as if he were going to cry, then hardened into anger. "Then go. Get the fuck out of my bed." He flung his body over, turning his back on Adam. When the other man touched his shoulder he wriggled further away.

"Okay," Adam said. Greg didn't turn as he heard him get up and move about the room, picking up his clothes and getting dressed. The hotel room door opened, then slammed shut. Greg lay unmoving and alone. After a while he got under the covers and turned out the light. It was a long time before he fell asleep.

He awoke with a start. Faint gray light was filtering into the room. There it was again--a soft knock at his door.

Greg struggled up, his body stiff, and padded to the door. He peered through the peephole.

Seconds later he was face to face with Adam.

"Okay, you win. I don't want this to be the end."

Greg stood naked with his hands on his hips. He suppressed a smile.

"Prove it."

Without a word Adam began to remove his clothes. Greg's eyes widened as he stripped off everything except one article of clothing-a well worn, but clean Bike jockstrap.

Adam met his eyes. "I've kept it all these years. One of the ones I used when we went jogging together."

Greg said softly, "It still looks good on you."

Adam looked at his feet. "I lost you once. I'm scared it'll happen again."

A lump rose in Greg's throat. He stepped forward and took Adam in his arms.

"It won't. I promise."

He cupped the pouch of Adam's strap and felt it begin to swell.

"Always wanted to fuck a guy in a jock."

Adam smiled. "We've got a lot of catching up to do."

Greg laughed as he pushed the fabric aside and grasped Adam's cock. "Let's get started right now," he said. He knelt and took it into his mouth.

In the small college town the retired track coach and his partner are a familiar sight at the local diner, coffeehouse or gym. Pretty much everyone has figured out their relationship-there aren't too many men their age who've kept themselves in such shape-but no one really cares. People who know the story will tell you how Coach Kryznak's old college roommate came to town one day for a visit and somehow never left.

If you know them well enough to get invited to their home, you'll see pictures of Adam and Greg together, competing in triathlons or cycling on the same team in AIDS fundraisers. If you're lucky enough to have access to their bedroom (I don't want to brag, but...), you'll see more intimate shots-I like the black-and-white pose best myself, Greg and Adam nude with their arms around each other, sitting on the deck of their backyard swimming pool, facing the camera with direct, confident eyes. A famous gay photographer took it, supposedly.

Above their bed is a framed work of art that's not a photo: strips of rough elastic cloth of varying textures and widths, worn and faded with age, laid out and mounted in an intricate pattern on black cardboard under a sheet of glass. You have to look at it a while before you realize what it is: two jockstraps, cut apart and sewn back together so that they are intertwined for all time.

The first time I saw it the three of us were in the bedroom. Yes, we were naked. I'll say no more.

I looked up from the bed at some point and saw the thing. I didn't know quite what to make of it. Adam and Greg saw me checking it out. They looked at each other and smiled.

"What is it?" I asked them.

"Our life story," Greg said.

I didn't understand then, but I do now. Adam and Greg found each other again after twenty-five years. This time they're not going to let go.

END