JOHN DARLING'S COMA
CHAPTER THREE
In the bathroom, John stopped what he was doing because he heard a knock on his hotel suite's front door... Andy!
With excited anticipation and goosebumps, he hurries to the door and opens it. With a big smile, carrying a satchel in his right hand, Andy Salsbury says, "Wow, are those new duds you're wearing? You look cool, Darling!"
Seeing Andy makes John so happy his eyes tear up immediately. Rubbing his eyes, he mumbles, "Thanks! C'mon in, Andy. You look wicked cool yourself, and, um, you can call me John."
Andy steps inside, "It's nothing personal; I call everybody by their last name." Stepping inside, he starts to say something else, but John cuts him off by wrapping his arms around him, a few tears sliding down his cheek. Gulping, he murmurs, "I'm so glad you're here," and then he kisses Andy's cheek, then a kiss on his lips, hugging him even harder before letting go and shutting the door.
Andy lisps, "Wow! That's by far the best greeting I've ever received in my life! Thanks, Darling." Then, "Have you been drinking?"
His heart pounding, John stands there, unsure what to do next, so Andy asks, "Ah, are you okay, Johnny? You seem..."
John interrupts, "Un-huh! I'll be fine. Um, yeah, I had two beers with a guy named Peter. He said he's straight."
Making a face, Andy's curious why John was drinking with some stranger, but before he can ask about it, John adds, "I'm excited you're here, and, um, I bought you a birthday present. It's not much, but I had to get you something because you've been so wicked nice to me. You're my best friend ever."
"What? No, you're already taking me out to dinner. You didn't need to get me anything."
John looks around, unsure what he did with the present, then remembers it's with the bag of toiletry items. "It's in the bedroom, Andy. Um, do you want to see where we'll be sleeping?"
Andy frowns, and John says, "Goddamn, that was a fucking stupid thing for me to say, wasn't it?"
Shrugging, Andy mumbles, "No, it's alright, um... Ah, yeah, let's see the bedroom," he holds up the satchel, adding, "I can put my overnight bag in there."
They're both feeling shy about the sleepover. At the same time, though, both have tingling dicks in their pants.
Andy follows John into the bedroom, where John spreads his arms, "This is it, Andy. Ah, that's a queen-size bed. Um, and I didn't know it was called that until the bellhop guy told me. At first, I was offended, thinking he was mocking me for being gay. You know, gay/queen. Then, I realized... what the fuck? He didn't know I was gay."
Puzzled by John's babbling, Andy mutters, "Uh-huh," and John babbles on, "It's a pretty big, comfortable bed, although I didn't sleep very well last night. With you here, though, I'll bet I sleep well, um... Ah, you know, you make me feel safe. Um, oh shit, I'm doing too much talking, huh? It might be because I drank those beers."
He's babbling again, sure, but he's very excited to be alone with Andy, and the beers were his first alcoholic drinks in months. They look at each other; Andy nods, knowing what John needs. He drops his satchel and opens his arms, "Okay, c'mon, get a hug. It'll help calm you down, Johnny."
His eyes burning, nodding his head, John slides in against Andy and sighs. Andy hugs him, pinning John's arms to his sides, and murmurs, "Shh, Darling. You're getting overexcited again. Everything is new to you. You were in a coma for weeks, and now you're out of the hospital and on your own. It's sensory overload or something. Shh, calm down, okay? You're shaking... what the fuck?"
He sways John back and forth until John becomes docile and melds against him, snuggling his face in the crook of Andy's shoulder and neck. Andy murmurs, "You're okay, you're doing good," and rubs his fingers in the longish hair on the back of John's head, "You're so huggable, Johnny Darling. Hugging you is so fucking sweet..."
Controlling his crying, John quietly, hesitantly says, "Thanks, Andy! I feel foolish. Um, I think I'm okay now, though. Oh man, I don't know what I'd do without you, and I mean that literally."
Andy kisses the side of John's forehead and says, "You're way better than just okay, Darling! You're the sweetest, nicest guy I've ever known. Meeting you was the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me."
When Andy lets go of him, John incongruously says, "I really like your blond hair." Then he makes a face and adds, "I don't know why the hell I just said that. No, I mean, I do like your hair, but who says shit like that? Jesus, don't pay any attention to the goofy shit I say."
Andy murmurs, "Shh. Listen to me; what did I just tell you to do?"
"Okay! Okay, I'm calming down. You're here, and I'm fine now..."
John leaned hard against Andy and again mumbled, "I'm good now."
Andy gives him a squeeze, "You need to take it easy."
They separate, and John takes a deep breath, then picks up the jewelry store bag, mumbling, "Ignore all my babbling, please," he takes out the gift-wrapped watch and hands it to Andy, "Happy Birthday, Andy!"
John didn't know it, of course, but he was confusing Andy's blond hair with his college roommate Brian's same shade of blond hair that he'd always admired. And it was Brian who used the Clubman Hair Tonic that John recognized in Andy's hair the other day and then couldn't understand how he knew about Clubman Hair Tonic.
Andy asks, "Did you wrap this present? It's so pretty I don't want to rip the paper."
"No, the lady at the store wrapped it. It's a wristwatch. I noticed you didn't have one. Well, heh-heh, I don't have a watch either. Maybe I should have bought two, but I didn't because... Goddammit, I'm babbling again."
Grinning at John, Andy gently unwrapped the box, opened it, and said, "Omigod! It's so awesome!" Leaving the watch in the box, he hugs John, then kisses him sloppily on the mouth. "Thank you so much!" Then he goes, "Christ, it looks really expensive!"
John shrugs, "It wasn't much. I inherited some money, so..."
Putting the watch on his left wrist, Andy holds his arm up and admires the watch. "It's really cool! Thank you! It's the best present anyone's ever given me."
John nods his head again, mumbling, "I didn't know what to get you. I figured a watch on your left wrist would balance the rainbow tattoo on your right wrist. "
With a huge smile, Andy says, "Well, I don't know about that, but it's perfect! Damn, you're so gorgeous, generous, and nice, yet you're always treating me like I'm the special one. You're the special one, Darling. Don't you know that yet?"
Shrugging for the fourth time in the last two minutes, shaking his head, John goes, "It's just a watch. Um," and now he smiles, "But maybe it's worth a second kiss."
They both snicker, and then Andy gives John a sexy, tongue-involved kiss with lots of saliva being exchanged. It's a sexy make-out with both guys springing boners. Hips humping boners together and steamy kisses until John's like, "Uh, uh, no, stop," and moves his head away, adding, "I almost came in my pants again. Maybe you're too sexy for me."
Scrunching his face, Andy says, "Haha, too sexy for you! Oh man, I cannot fucking believe how lucky I am you're gay, and you like me as much as you do. It's a miracle or something."
"You're my miracle, Andy! I like you more than any other person I've ever known... I think. Um, I mean, seriously, I don't know how the hell I could like and love anyone as much as I like and love you."
Andy murmurs, "That's so, um... You give me tingles all over my body when you say shit like that."
Making a face, John mutters, "My underpants are wet with that shot of precum. Goddamn!"
"Well, change your underwear."
John rubs his crotch, then kicks off his sneakers, mumbling, "I like it when you tell me what to do. It gives me confidence, sexy shivers, and a safe feeling that you'll make sure I'm doing what I should."
He misses being bossed around by Brian.
Andy's like, "Sure, but it isn't easy or normal for me to tell anybody anything, never mind telling someone what they should do. I'm trying to do that for you, but it's a struggle, and I'm only doing it until you get your memory back. Then you won't need me to tell you jack-shit. You'll probably soon be realizing a lot of memories. It'll be like learning a million things all over again. And you know, when you get your memory back, you'll remember a lot of guys you like more than me."
"No, I won't! As I said, it'd be impossible to like and love anybody more than I like and love you."
Andy mumbles, "Well, I'd like to believe that, but..." he stops when he notices the time on his watch. "Jesus Christ, is this the correct time? It says twenty after seven!"
John says, "That's the correct time, yeah. Do you think the restaurant will hold our seven o'clock reservation?"
"Of course, they will, but first, I need you to hurry up and change your underpants. You don't want to sit through dinner with wet underpants."
"Oh, right!" John pulls his pants down, saying, "I like how you told me what to do a second time. It gave me cool shivers again."
"Uh-huh, but if you did what I said the first time, I wouldn't need to tell you a second time, ya know? I'm not trying to be bossy, but..."
Nodding, John pulls down his underpants and holds them as he faces Andy, pushing out his hips. "See, Andy; I don't have a big cock."
Grinning, Andy says, "As I already told you this afternoon, I know your cock very well. I was privileged to wash it every other day during your coma. I'm extremely fond of it. Especially now without the tube coming out of it."
They snicker, then John takes clean underwear from his suitcase, asking, "Um, if you don't mind me asking, do you have a big cock?"
Andy mutters, "It's bigger than your four or five inches, anyway," he chuckles, then adds, "Hey, I like both our penises."
John pulls on the clean underpants, then his new khakis, "I'm looking forward to that sponge bath you promised me. It'll be cool watching you bathe my little dick."
Andy chuckles, "It's not little, you nut," and he smiles as John gets his sneakers on. They walk out into the corridor, where Andy says, "Actually, that sponge bath is something I can't wait to do for you. It'll be more fun now that you're conscious. I'd happily do it for you every day for eighty years."
John touches the back of Andy's hand, and Andy rolls his eyes, then mutters, "Oh, yeah, okay, I know what you want," and takes hold of John's hand as they wait for the elevator. "Darling, I'm obviously demonstratively gay; it won't matter to me if people see and react to us two males holding hands. You, however, may find that you'll feel self-conscious about it."
John tries lisping like Andy, saying, "I don't know if I'll be self-conscious or not. Should I be?"
"I can't tell you how to feel, Darling, but I can tell you that none of the gay guys I've known would hold hands. If you want to, though, I'll be glad to hold your hand."
"Yes, I want you to because it makes me feel good, Andy."
Andy shrugs and squeezes John's hand, muttering, "Well, people will mostly ignore us, but some can't help themselves and will be insulting, which we'll ignore."
Lisping poorly, but he's trying, he says, "I really want to be like you, Andy. I think that everything about you is perfect."
The elevator doors open, and a man and woman in the car emphatically don't notice two young men holding hands. Standing in the back of the elevator car, John smiles brightly at Andy, leans close to him, his lips on Andy's ear, and whispers, "This is fun."
Andy grins and rolls his eyes again. Off the elevator, they walk up to the restaurant's reception desk. The maître d smiles expectantly at John, who freezes and, instead of saying anything, looks at Andy, who tells the man, "Um, ah, sorry we're late. We have a seven o'clock reservation. It's under, Darling."
No problem, the man types on a computer, smiles again, and says, "Of course. This way, please," and leads them to a table for four. As they sit across from each other, the maître d puts menus in front of them, "Enjoy your dinners."
Andy nods at the man, then says to John, "This is the fanciest restaurant I've ever eaten in."
John says, "Oh, is this fancy?" He looks around, then says, "It seems fancy, yeah, I guess. Um, oh, and I'm sorry that I couldn't think what to say to that head waiter guy. Um, until I get my memory back, how about if you take care of that sort of thing?"
"Sure, no problem, but you'll get your memory and confidence back in no time. You'll see."
John goes, "Maybe, but that was a good example right there of why you would help me tremendously by moving in with me. I need you more than ever now that I'm not allowed to live in the hospital. I'll pay you to live with me until my memory returns."
Andy slowly shakes his head, "Jesus, Darling, that puts a lot of pressure on me. And, first of all, no matter what arrangement we eventually decide on, you're not paying me a cent! I've already told you my big concern is to be certain I'm not taking advantage of your vulnerable condition. I don't want anyone ever to accuse me of that. Hell, I love you like a brother and in more intimate ways than that as well, so I'd never take advantage of you by accepting money to be your friend."
They hear someone quietly clear his throat and look up to see a handsome young man standing next to their table. He smiles beautifully at them, then says, "Good evening. I'm Philip, and I'll be your server tonight. Can I get you something to drink?"
Andy asks John in his usual lisping manner, "Do you want a cocktail, Darling? I'm going to have a Rum and Coke."
Philip pretends he didn't notice the 'S' slushy lisping of Andy or his referring to John as darling. Mostly, Philip's eyes are lingering on super-attractive John, who feels Philip staring at him, and, without looking at Philip, mutters, "I guess so, Andy. Um, I'll try whatever you're getting."
Andy pulls out his wallet, telling Philip, "Two rum and Cokes, please. Here's my license."
Philip says, "Yes, I'm sorry, but I do need to check IDs as you boys look awfully young," then he stares at John again. Philip's eyes are bright as he swallows audibly, waiting for John to get his license ID out. Avoiding eye contact, John hands his ID to Philip, who looks at it and mumbles, "Oh, your last name is Darling," and smiles at John, looking like he wants to say more but doesn't.
Then, glancing at Andy's license, Philip smiles and says, "Oh, look at that! Happy birthday!" Then, "Neither of you looks nearly twenty-one, and yet you're both twenty-two or almost twenty-two." Handing the licenses back to the guys, he says, "Thank you. Your drinks will be right out."
Philip walks away quickly, then John says, "Damn, I should have used my imitation lisp with Philip."
Andy shakes his head, "No, please don't do that! It doesn't sound real coming from you, so it mocks me when you do it."
"What? You said you liked me lisping."
"I meant it's cute with just us two, not when other people can hear you doing it."
John goes, "Okay. Keep telling me the right things for me to do. And that's why I beg you to move in with me!"
"Wow, you really know how to keep the pressure on! Let's see how it goes tonight and tomorrow. We've never been together for even three hours in a row, so you never know; something I do might annoy you. I might snore or do something else you don't like, whatever gets on your nerves... we don't know. We'll take it a day at a time."
"Alright, whatever you say, Andy, although I know there isn't anything about you that I won't like. Plus, you're so smart and mature. So yeah, as I said before, I'll do what you tell me to do."
The drinks come, and Andy orders his dinner: onion soup for a starter, house salad, then veal chop with cabernet sauce, creamed potatoes, and green beans. Philip looks at John and smiles pleasantly, "And for you, John Darling?"
He is again looking as if he wants to say more but doesn't. Philip's attention is disconcerting to John, so he looks at Andy, who nods that he needs to say something. Not looking at Philip, John mutters, "The same for me. Um, ah, and thank you."
Philip's eyes sparkle at John, and then off he goes, smiling. John mumbles, "Huh, he remembered my full name."
Andy mutters, "Yeah, that was odd," then, "Do you like French onion soup?"
John shrugs and grins, muttering, "Maybe," and Andy goes, "Oh, yeah, that's right. Everything is new to you. So, how do you like the rum and Coke?"
They both like everything they ordered and have a good time eating and talking. Halfway through the dinner, John's eyes tear up for no apparent reason, and Andy reaches across the table to pat the back of John's hand, then he holds it, "Hey, remember what I told you. Just stay calm; everything is fine. We're having a wonderful time."
Nodding, John mutters, "You make me so happy I can't help the tears. Anyway, I'm sure I'll get over these crying jags, but until then, the tears are good ones... happy ones, thanks to you. I'm very grateful to you, Andy." Then, four fat, clear tears roll down his cheeks, and he wipes at them with the back of his free hand.
Then, surprising themselves, they were too full to order dessert. Philip ignored that and brought over a big cup of vanilla ice cream with a big brownie on top that had a birthday candle in it. He puts it on the table between them. Then, with his hand on John's shoulder, Philip said, "This is on the house. Happy Birthday, Andy."
Andy lisped, "Oh my God! Thank you. That is so nice of you!"
Philip squeezes the back of John's neck, murmuring, "I brought two forks, so you share that dessert with Andy, John Darling. Or, perhaps you like using the same spoon as Andy, huh?"
John frowns, trying to smile, muttering, "Huh?" Then, "I mean, thank you, um, Philip," and he grins, looking down at the tabletop. He gets another squeeze on the back of his neck, "You're welcome, John Darling," and Philip ruffles John's hair, murmuring, "Omigod..."
John's dick tightens up as he does a noisy gasping inhale that makes thirty-year-old Philip grin and move his fingers up the back of John's head, pulling the hair a little as he leans over close to John's ear, asking, "And how did you like your dinner, John Darling?"
Andy figures he needs to get used to John attracting a lot of attention, considering his amazing good looks and his sweet, naive, almost clueless personality. Still, he's jealous and makes a face, rolling his eyes, shaking his head slightly as John shrugs, "It was a very good supper, Philip," and grins, moving his head back, putting pressure against Philip's hand.
Philip straightens up, pulling his hand away, and says, "Well, it's been fun serving you two delightful boys. I hope you'll join us for dinner tomorrow night." Then he ruffled John's longish hair again and added, "When you come in, ask for my station." Then to Andy, "You two make a great couple. You be sure to take good care of our John Darling here."
Andy says, "Sure thing," then he looks at John, "Um, Philip needs your credit card?"
"Right!" and gives Philip his debit card. Philip smiled as his hand clumsily slid over John's hand. John looks up as Philip stares into John's big dark blue eyes, almost holding hands with John, then says, "Oh, my! I'm so sorry, John Darling. I'm so clumsy tonight..."
John was intimidated by this handsome man but flattered by the attention, so he looked down and shrugged, mumbling, "That's alright...."
Then, while Philip was ringing up the card and preparing the check, John asked Andy, "What's up with Philip?"
Andy laughed, "Oh, maybe he likes you a little bit."
"No, he doesn't. Um, what should I leave as a tip?"
"Whatever you want, but fifteen to twenty percent is what most people leave for a tip, but I'd like to at least pay for that much."
"No, this is totally my treat! It's your birthday dinner. Okay, hmm, Philip did a good job, don't ya think? And he gave us that free dessert, plus he remembered my full name, so he deserves a twenty percent tip."
Leaving the restaurant, Andy says, "If I wasn't so head over heels attracted to you, I'd have had the hots for Philip."
John says, "Really? How could you tell he's gay?"
"Seriously? How about the way he was ogling and foundling you?" There were two clues right there."
"What? Ogling and fondling me? Really? Well, he was pretty sexy, though. Um, could we have dinner here again tomorrow night?"
"Okay, if you want, and if you let me split the bill. I don't want you paying my way all the time."
John had felt a sizzling sensation in his balls when Philip's hand was on the back of his neck, then felt embarrassed that he didn't recognize Philip's attention for what it was. Oh God, he'd love to be naked with Philip. He reminded John of Dr. Berry. Both of them are sexy and older, which is very intriguing! Yeah, Dr. Berry, too.
Those thoughts vanished when John was waiting for an elevator with Andy because he realized all of a sudden that the elevator would take them up to the suite, ending the night. What? No way! John is not ready for that yet!
He's nervous because he doesn't know what he's supposed to do when alone in the suite with Andy. Obviously, he has no recollection of ever having sex with Brian and is afraid of humiliating himself by messing up doing sexy gay things with Andy. So, to stall going to the room, he says, "Um, ah, Andy, would you mind terribly if I smoke a cigarette outside before turning in for the night? I mean, would you stay with me while I do that, please?"
Andy's like, "Of course, I'll go outside with you. Anyway, I used to smoke in high school, so I'll try one of your smokes to keep you company."
Outside, it's a beautiful night. Andy smiles at John, "What a good idea this was, Darling! It's a great night for walking off that fabulous meal. The birthday dinner was wonderful, by the way, and I can't thank you enough!"
John mumbles, "You couldn't be more welcome," and hands Andy a cigarette and then lights it for him. After lighting his own, they walk around the block holding hands and smoking. Even if they weren't holding hands, anyone seeing them would feel they're an interesting gay couple smiling and looking at one another every ten seconds or so while occasionally bumping against each other's side as they walk hand in hand.
Andy is about two inches shorter than John and lighter, but not by much. Like John, Andy is young-looking for his age; both easily could pass for teenagers, which makes them even cuter together. It's young love, and young love rules the world... to the lovers.
Plus, John's looks are one in a million in that he's extraordinarily good-looking with a smooth, tight, six-foot body, thick, wavy, silky blond hair that's a lighter blond than Brian and Andy's hair, and large dark blue eyes contrasting beautifully with his clear, pale, healthy complexion. His face is youthfully cute and handsome at the same time.
Not that he can remember this, but John only realized he was gay during his sophomore year at college when his gay roommate nagged John until he got John to blow him, and it was off to the races after that. John took to gay sex like a duck takes to water.
Andy, on the other hand, knew he was gay at an early age and embraced it from that extremely early age. He liked being gay and naturally acted in a girlish/swishy manner from his preteen years onward, which caused him grief from some boys.
Andy was very likable, though, and won over his two straight childhood friends, as well as a number of gay friends. He's not especially good-looking or cute, but he young-looking with big brown eyes and fabulous hair that's thick and shiny like John's hair. Unlike John's pre-accident choice of a short, preppy haircut, Andy wears his hair long and pulled back into a short ponytail.
He has a wonderfully clear, smooth complexion, too, and an always-ready, dimpled smile. Andy's facial features are okay individually, except they don't go together all that well. People glancing at Andy would mostly think he's an average-looking young man, perhaps slightly cute because he's so youthful-looking, kind of cute in an unusual way.
Anyone observing John and Andy together will know immediately; one, that Andy is very gay, and two, Andy's the Alpha dog between the two. And that's ironic in that any other friend of Andy's would be in the Alpha role because Andy isn't the leader type; he's more the go-along, smiling follower type.
And that's exactly the way John was before the accident and most definitely how he is now. By the end of his junior year at Duke University, John's roommate was dominating him sexually and in almost every other way, although not in an unkind or mean way at all. Brian's extremely fond and maybe even in love with his roommate, John Darling.
Anyway, at John's request, Andy held hands with him as they walked, smoking two cigarettes each, mostly without talking. Neither felt uncomfortable with the silence. It was a nice night, and there were many others walking the Boston streets, none of whom commented on the gay young men holding hands. There would likely be a different result in parts of the country other than liberal-leaning Boston.
After the second time around the long four blocks, both times ending at the hotel, to further postpone being alone in the suite with Andy, John asked, "Would you mind if we sat at the bar and had another of those rum and Coke drinks?"
"No, I don't mind at all. That's what we'll do, but I insist that it's my treat!"
There are empty seats at the bar, so they sit on two of them, and Andy says, "The look on your face makes me wonder if you're having second thoughts about me sleeping with you. You look tense."
"Do I? Um, it's hard to describe how I feel, Andy. It's so weird not remembering my past life, but I know I want to be with you."
Andy is staring at John, sincerely saying, "That's very nice of you to say, but It's absolutely and positively okay if you don't feel up to me sleeping with you. I can sleep on that big couch in the living room. Everything is new to you, and you don't need something as super new and strange as sleeping together might seem to you. You could be straight, you know."
"Whaddaya mean?"
"Well, I think my being gay is throwing you off. You're fond of me because I'm helping you, so perhaps you've talked yourself into being gay simply because I am. Statistically, you're fighting the odds as you're much more likely to be heterosexual. The vast majority of people are straight."
"I don't know what I am, Andy; I just want to be with YOU! But yes, you're right, I am apprehensive about sleeping together, but it's only because I'm afraid I'll screw up when we're doing something sexy, and I'll ruin everything."
Andy shakes his head and mumbles, "That's crazy, but here comes the bartender. I want you to order for us, Johnny. You need to practice doing that."
The bartender puts a little square cocktail napkin in front of each of them, "Can I see ID fellows?" They show their driver's licenses, and John somehow manages to mutter, "Rum and Coke. I mean two, um, please."
"Sure thing! Two rum and Cokes coming up, buddy..."
Andy nods, smiling at John, "Good, very good." He pats John's shoulder, "That wasn't hard, was it? You just need practice, Darling."
John snorts a short laugh and says, "Fuck that! I'm such a cunt! Yes, it WAS hard for me to do, Andy! You're supposed to take care of that," and he feels tears forming, adding, "Never mind, though. You have no idea how much I love being with you."
Andy sees the tears and hugs John's shoulders, "Shh, calm down, okay?"
They have two rum and Cokes talking about the times John gained consciousness for a minute without anyone knowing it and how, for John, that was like waking up in a strange new world. Then the time Andy was doing John's sponge bath, and he screeched out when John, after a month in a coma, spoke to him.
Finally, the alcohol had John relaxed enough that when he and Andy walked from the bar to the elevators, there was no hesitation this time... they went right up to the suite.
When he unlocked the door to his suite, and they walked in, it was so quiet John gulped and reached out to touch Andy, mumbling, "Say something, Andy."
Andy put his arm around John's waist, "Stay calm; everything's cool." Leaving his arm around John, Andy walked him into the bedroom, where John stiffened. Andy kept hold of him as he took his computer tablet from the satchel and walked them back out to the living room, saying, "I'll put some YouTube music on. You can relax, and maybe we can dance together again."
John says, "Ah, could we go to bed instead, Andy? I'm okay now, and I really want to be with you, um, naked. I don't think I'm straight. I don't think so because I desire you in some kind of sexy manner, desire to be with you naked way too much to be straight. I promise to stay calm, but I want to be naked with you. Actually, I'd like to crawl inside your skin and live with you like that. I'm glad I'm gay so I can love being sexy with you."
This is exactly how John reacts to Brian O'Neil when Brian isn't paying enough attention to him sexually. In this case, John's going overboard, proclaiming his love for Andy, idolizing and almost worshipping him because John's so horny he can barely stand it. Still, he doesn't know that's him being horny is the reason he's acting crazy and crawling out of his skin.
Andy's flattered, murmuring, "You'll have me crying if you keep talking like that, Darling. We'll be two crying gays acting like girls. I wouldn't mind that, but you're not a femme Twink like me."
Something bangs around in John's brain for a second, 'Twink?' but John can't make out what it was that he almost remembered. He mumbles, "Andy, I'm nervous again."
"Don't be nervous! Damn, please, for the love of God, stop changing your mind every two seconds. You said you wanted to be naked, so let's stick with that one thought and get undressed! I'm sorry for losing my patience, but seriously... get undressed right now!"
John goes, "Sure, right away. That's exactly what you need to do more of, Andy. Stop taking my dumb ass whining pussy behavior and, instead, tell me what to do, um, and make it emphatic enough that it scares me a little."
He's still not getting undressed as he adds, "You should tell me angrily like you're getting pissed off at me; tell me to, Goddammit, do what you're told, Darling! That'll get me moving." Except he's not moving.
He'd be moving if it were Brian. When Brian got frustrated with John for some reason, he got very stern and angry with him. A spanking wasn't out of the question. That's what John's used to and what he's missing as he gets closer to recalling his memory.
After making his speech, John watches Andy kicking off his loafers; then, his khaki pants come down. Andy stops to give John a look, his palms held out like, 'What the fuck?' and John goes, "Oh, yeah, right, I'll get undressed, sorry," and begins quickly to undress.
They're tossing their clothes on the desk chair and are soon down to their underwear. Looking at each other, they hesitate for a second before both pulling down their underpants, and John sees Andy's penis for the first time. His own five-inch dick has shrunk some because he's on uncertain ground and, again, not sure what to do next.
He mumbles, "Yeah, your dick is bigger than mine, Andy." He fiddles with his dick, adding, "Mine has shrunk because I'm nervous again."
Although he is royally frustrated, Andy tries not to show it, saying, "Please don't be nervous because there's no reason for you to be nervous!"
John goes, "Ah, I just don't want to mess anything up, ya know?"
Taking in some air, Andy says, "You're doing good, and wow, everything about you is beautiful, Johnny. I already knew that, of course, but..."
With renewed energy, holding open his arms, Andy says, "Okay, c'mon, get over here. I'm going to make love to you. Just do what you're told, and there won't be anything for you to worry about."
And there isn't anything Andy could have said that would have been better. He even sounded authoritative when telling John to do what he was told. That's exactly how and what Brian always told John.
John quickly steps over into Andy's open arms, lying against his slightly smaller but sexy body, feeling perfect to John because it's almost exactly like Brian's body. He docilely gives himself up to Andy, totally desiring and trusting him, wanting to be dominated by him. He makes a quiet moan when feeling Andy's naked body against his, their penises partially squished together.
As for Andy, with the help of the artificial confidence of three hard liquor beverages, he's allowed himself to get a little frustrated at John's inconsistent outlook and was able to do something out of his normal emotional range by sounding authoritative. John responded immediately to that as his brain flashed a tick of familiarity that teased to reveal itself
With John in his arms, their faces almost touching, Andy quietly murmurs, "Here's the deal. I'm going to make out with you the way lovers do it, and when I'm highly aroused, which will happen quickly, I'm going to fuck you until we're both exhausted or until you say, 'STOP.' I'll stop then, and we'll be done for tonight."
Still standing in the same spot in the bedroom, John looks Andy in the eyes, "I won't say stop. I've got goosebumps all over me, wanting you and me to do what you just said, and I'll try hard not to screw it up."
With a big smile, Andy nods and says, "Oh, good, because," with a bigger grin, he adds, "I want to do everything too!"
Nodding at his pants on the chair, Andy says, "In the pocket of my khakis are four condoms; as soon as you get me one of those packets, we'll go for it all, Darling."
John closes his eyes, grins, nods, then drops his forehead onto Andy's and murmurs, "I'm quivering with anticipation."
"Uh-huh, so get the condom!"
Nodding, "Oh, right, the condom. I didn't even think about a condom, but yeah..." John reaches over to Andy's khaki pants on the desk chair. He leans his face against Andy's, their lips brushing together until Andy kisses John's lips. Then, "Get the condom, Darling!"
John giggles, "Yeah, get the condom," then grins mischievously as he puts his hand in one pants pocket, then the other, coming out this time with a factory-sealed, airtight, thin plastic foil wrapper containing an individual condom. As he glances at it, a picture flashes in his brain of him doing this very thing with someone else. The someone else in the picture that flashed past his brain is unknown and could have been a girl or a guy. Hmm?
That thought passes when Andy says, "Okay, now, you hold onto that condom packet until I tell you to give it to me."
Another wonderful authoritative order creates a buzzing in John's balls as he submissively murmurs, "Yes, Andy..."
John's high with anticipation as he gasps, then sucks in a long breath, lets it out slowly, and then does it again. Andy puts a hand behind John's head, his other hand on John's left butt cheek, and squeezes it as he licks across John's lips, then sucks on his top lip. When John moans, his mouth opens slightly; Andy's tongue slides on John's tongue, then he gives John's mouth a ten-second sucking, sloppy kiss.
With their naked bodies grinding together, both penises getting hard, John takes a step back. Andy moved with him, doing longer, slower, sloppier, tongue-involved kisses that left John dizzy, his penis a hard rail sticking straight up between their bellies, his arms tightly hugging around Andy's naked body, his left hand still clutching the condom packet.
Andy moves his face back and forth against John's face, their noses rubbing together, saliva smearing on both their faces. Andy squeezes, then smacks John's butt cheek and humps his hard cock against John's steel boner. Heat rises as Andy licks across John's cheek to his ear, which he fills with spit, and then there are more slow, drawn-out kisses, John trying to kiss back the way he imagines lovers would kiss.
After three or four minutes, John, sounding out of breath, stutters, "Ah, I'm, I'm, I feel like I'm going to cum..."
Andy expected John would cum, so he kissed him again as he's slowly guiding John to the bed. When the back of John's legs hit the mattress, Andy gently pushes him over to lie on the bed on his back, Andy on top of him, both pairs of feet still on the floor. Andy humps John's crotch as John goes, "Oooh, aaah! I'm, gonna, aaah..." and, humping his hips, John climaxes between them, shooting out a stream of creamy warm cum that spreads up from their stomachs to their chests.
Breathing deeply, very aroused, Andy grunts, "The condom. Give me the condom..."
Taking the condom from John, Andy stands and murmurs, "Get up, turn around, and then put your hands on the bed."
Looking apprehensive, John mutters, "Um, okay, Andy," and then does what he's told, squinting in an effort to remember why this seems so familiar... 'Who did I do this with?'
Facing the bed, John bends over, putting his hands on the mattress for support, then looks back at Andy, his eyes latching onto Andy's boner, which looks very long. Hmm, long, yes, but should it be that fat, that big around? Then, he asks himself... why would I think that? I've seen all sizes of penises in high school; why should the one about to fuck me seem so fat?
Andy had just finished rolling on the condom, his boner now sticking straight out of his neat patch of blond pubic hair. His cock was a hard, excellent-looking, lubricant-shiny, condom-covered boner so hard it didn't even bounce when Andy stepped up behind John's ass.
Andy grips John's hips and says, "Once we get going, I can maintain a hard boner for a fairly long time, so I'll likely be able to fuck a second climax out of you. You're okay with this, right?"
Nodding, Andy says, "Yeah, I'm good. Um, Andy, listen... I know I've done this before. I can't remember when or with whom, but I've been fucked before, I'm almost positive, so you don't need to hold back on anything."
Andy nods, "Whom? You said whom."
"Sorry..."
Andy chuckles, " No, that's great! I don't want to disappoint you; now you've got me hoping I don't screw up."
John does a nervous giggle, then says, "Omigod, I'm so up for this I can hardly believe it's about to happen!
"That's great to hear. Um, spread your legs, Darling, and push your ass up." John does that; Andy whacks John's butt cheek with his open hand, "SMACK!", then slaps it again, "SMACK!" John yelps and pushes his ass up harder, totally feeling that this is freakishly familiar.
That's because Brian was very dominant with John. This is just a taste of what Brian used to do, and John had been subconsciously missing being dominated. Brian got John addicted to being dominantly spanked and then fucked hard. Once Brian broke John down and got him blowing him on a regular basis, he became a very firm leader and mentor for John's sex life, and John learned to love it and eventually couldn't get enough of it, enough of Brian.
Although it's contradictory to Andy's normal personality, he has some experience as a dominant top. Once or twice a month for the last two years, a married man in Andy's apartment building, 34-year-old Eugene Duper, needed his homosexual fix, which is where Andy comes in. His heart wasn't totally into it; nevertheless, somehow, Andy learned how to satisfy Eugene's submissive need to be dominantly fucked.
John gasped, surprised at how cold the lube was at the head of the condom when it touched his tightly closed anus. He became alert then and knew he was supposed to concentrate on relaxing the muscles in his rectum the way he was taught. Taught by who, though?
Two seconds later, the head of Andy's boner tightly pushed inside John; then Andy steadily pushed all six inches of hard cock up inside John Darling's rectum. John going, 'Ah! Umm, oh, oh... oh, yeah, Andy..."
Humping his crotch against John's buttocks, Andy's eyebrows go up, asking, "Ah, you mean that's feeling good already, Darling? That didn't hurt?"
"Hurt? Yeah, a little at first, but it quickly felt awesome! It felt so good it was freaking me out. I've been trying to remember who was doing this with me before. Forget that, though. You're doing it with me now, and there's no one I'd rather be doing this with. It feels itchy, though, Andy; could you move your, um, dick, please?"
John didn't mention that he was used to an even fatter boner because he didn't want to hurt Andy's feelings, but he knew the mystery person who was fucking him before the accident definitely had a fatter penis. When Andy was pushing his penis in, in, in, and still further in, John thought, 'Oh, the mystery sex partner didn't have a boner this long.' The longer boner felt really good, but he thinks the fatter one, the boner his mystery top has felt even better.
Andy starts by doing steady, slow thrusts because that's what he was taught was the way to maintain an erection the longest. He was taught this by his other occasional sex buddy, Manny Ortiz, who could fuck Andy for up to thirty minutes. They often fucked once a week in the back of the hearse Manny drove for the O'Meara Funeral home. Andy and Manny almost always had at least two orgasms each during their thirty-minute fucks. He liked getting fucked by Manny much, much better than being the dominant top for Eugene.
Manny told Andy that extending the time for keeping an erection required healthy lifestyle choices, the use of a cock ring, and doing pelvic floor exercises called 'Kegels.' Also, as already mentioned, you need to fuck slowly for the longest results. So, Andy was doing slow thrusting, expecting to be doing it for between ten and thirty minutes to get off himself and get John 'off' again, but John had other ideas.
As pleasure sensations began accumulating in his rectum, John's brain was busy providing reminders of vague past sexual pleasures similar to the current ones, except with a much greater intensity. This present pleasure multiplied by three or four would equal the sexual pleasure when Brian fucked John's ass.
Yeah, Brian's fatter sex organ and much harder and quicker thrusting could get John to blow his load in less than two minutes. The second climax would take longer but never as long as ten minutes. Brian got John off fast once or twice, then needed an hour or longer before doing John a third time.
"It feels good, Andy, and I love you for doing this with me. I remember, ah, that is, um, I wonder... could you do it harder and faster?"
First of all, Andy was curious about how quickly John's rectum adapted to his hard boner. Almost right from the start, it was tight, but the thrusting went smoothly and reminded Andy of a rectum that's experienced a lot of hard cocks being humped inside it. That made him think that John may have exhibited hypersexual activity for at least a year, but probably more than a year prior to the accident. In the old days, before the politically correct lefty PC police took over the Western world, a person with hypersexual activity was called a nymphomaniac.
Anyway, Andy isn't sure if John qualifying for hypersexual activities is an enticing possibility or a worrisome one. In either case, it's not something he needs to waste time thinking about now. Now, he needs to not disappoint John with this sex act.
"Faster and harder, Johnny? Sure, of course, and I'm relieved that you're enjoying this right from the start. It's something we can do as often as you'd like."
Andy might be surprised to discover that he couldn't do it as often as John liked; nobody could.
Andy hears a moan of arousal from John as soon as he starts hammering his hefty six-inch hard cock back and forth in John's ass. Andy has always been cockily proud of his six-inch penis and would be shocked if he knew that John thinks the mysterious fatter boner is superior to Andy's boner.
"Um, um, um," Andy continues humping all six inches hard and fast, "Um, um, um!"
After a few minutes, never mind John's orgasm, Andy senses his orgasm beginning to percolate; then, a minute later, it's doing more than percolating; it's roaring toward a climax, and why wouldn't it? He's fucking Johnny Darling, who he fantasizes about fucking every time he jerked off the last three months.
It's a hot and sexy four or five minutes of hard, fast thrusting, John's body justling back and forth, Andy's crotch slapping off John's buttocks, a grunt from him with every thrust. Finally, Andy made a whining sound, knowing he was about to blow his load into the condom. He humped his hard boner up John's ass extra hard and left it there as he held his breath with serious climax signals in his head... one more hump against John's buttocks, then his climax blew!
Worlds collided as sensations of incredibly intense sexual pleasure spread out all over him, spread over every inch of him at the speed of light. He sucked in air, was paralyzed for three seconds, then gasped, "Holy fuck," and, shaking now, squeezed his eyes closed and waited for his brain to instruct his body to start functioning again.
"Why did you stop, Andy? It was awesome; you were doing fantastic."
His condom-covered boner is immobile in John's rectum while Andy's head is clearing. Exhaling his long-held breath, he mutters, "Sorry, I had a little orgasm there, Darling. Fuck, it felt good... Um, your ass provides quite an excellent ride."
He almost said quite an obviously 'experienced' and excellent ride but was able to edit his thought before verbalizing. He doesn't want to insult John by insinuating he may possibly be a sex slut with a seemingly very well-used rectum.
"I've still got a partial boner, Darling. I'll get it going again for you if you'd like."
Well, yeah, sure, Andy. Gee, thanks..."
John loved this sex with Andy, while in his head is some vague notion that he's had better sex than Andy's prior to his accident. That thought lingered in the air like a whisper he couldn't quite hear.
He can't remember Brian, so he can't remember how deeply he was under Brian's control. That sounds nasty on the surface, but by the end of junior year, John loved Brian with a passion and loved being under his control, although he didn't think of it that way. He thought of it as always being with Brian and was thrilled to please Brian whenever he could.
So, to John, being under Brian's control was a delicious situation. He craved non-stop attention from Brian; he couldn't get enough of Brian O'Neil.
The truth is, Brian had always been a sweet boy, but from an early age, he had a tendency to be bossy with his many friends. He was always the leader, and at an early age, he became obsessed with sex, which meant his friends would be involved because that's what Brian wanted.
The Internet provided ideas for Brian, and as a ten-year-old, he acted out what he saw online by pretending he was fucking naked ten-year-old Freddy Simmerman's ass when they were in the YMCA swimming pool locker room. They did it repeatedly, and they'd do it on sleepovers too, always with Brian as the dominant top and Freddy his very submissive bottom, who would always lick Brian's tiny penis to get them started.
Obviously, there was no penetration until they were eleven and a half, when both began getting immature boners that, in coming months, became hard-as-steel real-life boners. They fucked regularly after that and did it all the way through seventh grade until, sadly, Freddy moved away with his family.
It was a temporary disaster for Brian, but he was popular, so it didn't take him long to nag Artie Marvel into blowing him. Eventually, Brian was fucking Artie two or three times a week and looking for someone else to do it with. Until he turned John into his submissive bottom, Brian thought of himself as the horniest guy he ever knew or read about. Brian soon realized John Darling had taken that title from him.
John doesn't remember Brian telling him about his preteen years or anything else. He is, however, becoming seriously curious about the memory snippets he's getting of a mysterious someone who was fucking him before the accident. He thinks about the picture of his roommate, who he was told was Brian O'Neil. Because of his amnesia, however, the name meant nothing to him. A roommate, though, would be the logical suspect, right? Still, John has zero memory of him.
He stops thinking about that because Andy's got his thrusting back up to speed... fast, hard thrusting, "Slap, slap, slap!" And it's feeling good again, "Ah, ah, ah! Good, Andy, oh, oh, umm, yeah..."
It's an excellent nine minutes of fucking for both of them as Andy's second climax had built almost to the tipping point when John groans and manages to croak out, "I'm gonna, ah..." and then, "Ooh, God, umm," and a really scintillating, thrilling climax blows out of John's iron boner feeling three times better than his climax fifteen minutes ago when making out with Andy.
A wave of warmth, along with that odd kind of intense pleasure that comes from sexual climaxes, flows over him. It's a pleasure that can reach a crescendo almost too hot to bear, then quickly reduces until there's only a shadow of it, but that's still enough to make John's shoulders shudder.
He goes, "Oh man, that was good, Andy! I think what I need, um, are frequent orgasms like that one to speed up recovering my memory."
A delayed pleasure vibration zips around Andy's groin as he smoothly thrusts his semi-hard boner in and out of John's still-tight rectum. He says, "I'm good to go a little longer if you're up for another few minutes. What do you say?"
"Really? Gee, well, yeah, if you can do it."
A half dozen full six-inch thrusts are all it took to get Andy's semi-boner turned into a full-fledged hard-as-stone, achingly hard, stretching out a little past its normal six-inch boner size, and right back to thrusting, "Slap, slap, slap," for almost eight minutes more with quiet moans of sexual pleasure and arousal from both.
Andy's shocked he can stay this hard this long while continuing the fast, hard thrusting. The extended pleasures from fucking this long have John and Andy retreating into their individual private sexual worlds of dreamy floating somewhere in eternity's space where sexual intercourse is a whisper of Nature's plan for the survival of the fittest and for procreation, ensuring the continuation of...
"Ah! Ah! Ooh..." As Andy comes back to earth, his climax is almost ready to blow, then BANG! it explodes and leaves him trembling with pleasure; John is on the edge of another climax, but Andy pulls out and groans, "Whew, that felt good, but, ha-ha, my dick's getting sore."
John grunts, "Uh-huh," and strokes himself off. His third climax is mostly a phantom one except for a small spray of a watery substance. Still, it felt good enough that he had to hold his breath for a few seconds, letting the streams of sexual pleasure zip around before fading out.
He mumbled, "Damn, Andy, my ass feels a little sore too, but this was my best night ever. Thank you; it was fantastic, and so are you!"
Oh man, Andy is feeling really, really good! He goes, "My whole body feels fresh or, I don't know, I feel great, Johnny! I hope I didn't let you down."
"Ha-ha, you've gotta be kidding. You fucked me for an hour. It was fabulous!"
He still thinks the mystery person might fuck better, but now Andy's impressed him. Anyway, John's too polite to mention anything negative to Andy. Plus, John felt that, after no anal sex for over three months, this was a great start. It wasn't an hour fuck, but Andy fucked him for over twenty-some-minutes, and it was hard fucking in a rectum that hadn't had a cock inside it for over three months, so it needed a long fucking.
After a while, Brian would make John nag him for it. They were pretty much inseparable, and when John felt it was too many hours between sex acts, he would nudge Brian and make gooey eyes at him, murmuring, 'C'mon, Bri, we have time. Nobody will bother us in our room. Please...'
There's some inkling in John's brain of something about his prior sex life he wants to know more about, but it's not nearly clear enough to make sense. Meanwhile, Andy's getting out of bed, holding the cum-filled condom away from him, "C'mon, Darling. We need to go in the bathroom and clean up."
"Do I have to, Andy? I'm tired, and I feel weird now, like I overdid it or something. Can't I stay here in bed? I feel, um, I don't know, jittery or something."
Without doing it consciously, John is testing how much he can get away with. Brian would have spanked him hard if John hesitated to do what Brian told him to do. In John's mind, Andy has replaced that mystery person, except Andy's much too easy on him, so he's curious to see how much he can get away with. Just a good thing to know.
Andy isn't like Brian, who would have gotten John in position for a good hard spanking by now, but Andy has compassion for John's ordeal and says, "Oh, okay, Johnny. You stay there, um, I'll be right back after I flush this condom. I'll bring a wet washcloth and clean you up in bed. That's something I'm very good at doing."
John smirks to himself, pulls the covers up, turns over, and sighs contentedly. But, he thinks, dammit, what does this evening remind me of? There's something in my head that I can almost...
To be continued... donnymumford@outlook.com
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