JOHN DARLING'S COMA
CHAPTER FORTY
John opened his eyes for the second time Friday morning. This time at nine-twenty-two; the first time was much earlier to talk with Gary. Upon awakening, his first thought was, 'I'm twenty-two! Why does that sound way less important than when I turned twenty-one?' Then, out loud, he mumbles, "Oh, yeah. Then I was finally of legal age for drinking, not that I'm a boozer or anything."
Then, he tries remembering what Gary told him this morning. Ah, yes, he said to take a shuttle bus from the airport to the hotel and wait in the lobby until he got there. John smiles, remembering what else Gary said; it was that he couldn't wait to hug and kiss his boyfriend. That is definitely not normal behavior for Gary, who has never been in favor of affectionate boyfriend kissing. He told John that he is special, though, so he deserves that greeting. Hmm, was that sarcasm, though?
John thought, 'I'm going to assume he was serious, so now I know what kind of greeting I should be ready for.'
He takes a deep breath because, yeah, he's been anxiously looking forward to reuniting with Gary ever since Gary left. So, okay, his flight is leaving Denver Airport at 3:10 and arriving at Billings, Montana, at 6:19. He decides he should be in the airport no later than two o'clock. The drive from Cheyenne to the airport in Colorado is about an hour and forty minutes, so by leaving home by twelve-twenty, he can then have lunch at the airport.
What else should he be thinking about? Lying in bed, he feels a streak of panic that something could happen to the airline ticket on his phone, or he could get caught in a traffic jam and miss his flight. Goddamn, when you get right down to it, there are a lot of things that could go wrong.
John mutters, "If I leave here by eleven, though, then the heavy traffic concern can go fuck itself. Andy got us to the airport two hours before the flight, so I'll do better than that, and I'm not going to do anything with my phone until AFTER I get on the plane.
He does his morning bathroom routines, thinking, 'Should I jerk off? Hmm, no, Goddammit, I don't need to do that every nine hours; I'm not fourteen, for Christ's sake!' Then, 'I should do the exercises, though. Gary will probably ask if I did them. Balls!'
Wearing one of his new underpants with a thirty-two-inch waistband, he does each exercise exactly as Gary showed him, noticing how easily he now can do all of them, even though he increased the repetition number on each exercise this past Monday.
After again cleaning up in the bathroom, he gets dressed and packs a satchel with his recently bought larger waistbands, underpants and jeans, Polo pullovers, socks, and whatever, plus two of Gary's T-shirts for the hell of it. As he zips up the satchel, his phone rings. "What?" Taking his phone out, he sees that it's Andy. John smiles, muttering to himself, "Well, I can talk on the phone at least. That won't screw up anything," and he says, "Hello, Andy!"
"Today's your big day, Darling! Let's have lunch together before your flight so I can give you a lucky trip kiss."
John grins, "That's so sweet of you. I'd like to get one of those kisses from you to see what it is, except I'm leaving for the Airport at eleven."
"Well, that blows! Wait, did you have breakfast yet?"
No, he hadn't, so they make plans to meet ten-fifteen at the cornily-named Foodie Diner that's on the way to the airport. They'll have breakfast, and John can experience Andy's so-called lucky-trip kiss. This is only possible because Andy planned ahead and has the use of Dickie's shit-box Monte Carlo. Andy dropped Dickie at work, intending to meet someplace to have lunch with John, but now it'll be breakfast.
That mini panic attack John had in bed has reduced to just a nervous sense that he's forgotten something. At ten o'clock, he's inside his pickup truck, patting the right pocket of Gary's hoodie winter coat that John wears every day. His hand patted his cell phone there, which is important because his phone is his airplane ticket. John feels his wallet in his pants pocket, and his box of Marlboro cigarettes is in the other coat pocket with the BIC lighter. John's satchel is on the seat next to him, and he's wearing his sunglasses, so what did he forget?
Out loud, John said, "My cowboy hat!" and touched his head. Then, "Fuck my hat, I've got everything I need." He squints, muttering, "There's something else, but..." Then he drives out of the parking spot, shrugging.
It's a ten-minute ride to the diner, and John's starving. He gets halfway to the diner when he remembers what he'd forgotten. As the truck sputtered and the engine died, he'd forgotten to get gas. He remembers last night telling himself he was almost out of gas.
As cars are flying by, the pickup coasts bumpily off to the side of the road, John screaming, "Asshole!" meaning himself. He yells, "What happened to my plans to start acting my age? Are you shitting me? I'm still an irresponsible fourteen-year-old. NO! That's insulting to fourteen-year-olds."
John's head is hot, sweat beading on his forehead as he tries in frustration and stupid anger to pull the steering wheel off; grunting, eyes wet, his screaming finally reduces to whimpers, and he lets go of the steering wheel, feeling defeated. He lies his head back against the seat, then wills himself to calm down. He knows the closest gas station is five or six minutes from the apartment, but in the opposite direction than he's been driving for the past five minutes.
His head is pounding as he takes his phone out and calls Andy.
"Yeah, Johnny, what's up? I'm already at the diner, but..."
"I ran out of gas."
Andy squints, "Seriously? Where are you?"
John tells him, and Andy says, "Sorry, but I'm new around here. I don't know that area at all, Johnny. Um, you know where the diner is, though, so give me directions on how to get to you from the diner."
John nods at the phone and starts feeling better because Andy is only a few minutes away. "Oh, man, Andy! You're my hero again," and he tells Andy simple directions.
"I'll be there in less than five minutes."
Wiping his sweaty face, John mumbles, "Thanks. We'll drive to the gas station close to the apartment and get a can of gas."
"Roger that, bro," and John takes a deep breath, thinking, 'This blows so much. I'm sweaty and pissed off at myself, but if I skip breakfast I'll be back on schedule.'
Five minutes later, John frowned, muttering, "He should be here by now." Two minutes after that, his phone rings. It's Andy, "What's up, Andy? Where are you?"
Sounding frustrated, Andy says, "I got on Bleaker Street, as you told me, and I drove on Bleaker for over seven minutes, but you're nowhere to be seen."
They worked it out. Andy took a left out of the diner parking lot and should have turned right on Bleaker Street. Ending the call, John mutters, "Christ, how dumb can... He shook his head, not saying anything more, and ten long minutes later, he saw Andy driving Dickie's Monte Carlo past him in the other direction. He forces a smile and waves as Andy drives by and turns into a Starbucks parking lot to turn around and come back to drive up behind John's pickup.
Both guys get out, John sensing one of his emotional episodes coming on as Andy gives him a hug, "It's okay, Darling. We'll get you on your..." He stops talking, looking past John, "Um, Johnny, did you know that, um...?" pointing behind John.
"What?" John turns around and sees his left rear tire is flat. They both can see the big nail that punctured the tire stayed in the tire. Stupidly, John mumbles, "But how...? Was the nail sticking up in the street? I mean, it would have been lying flat, right? So, how'd it..."
Andy ignores all that, asking the logical question, "You have a spare tire, right?"
"No, uh-uh, I don't have a spare, Andy. Um, I feel sick, like I'm going to throw up. Really, I'm not kidding..." and he retches, but nothing but some saliva and bile comes out.
Andy rubs John's back, and then they both jump when a truck driver blows his horn, yelling, "Get the fuck out of the street, you assho..." but he's by them. Stepping back, pulling John with him, Andy says, "Okay. Get in Dickie's car with me, Darling, and we'll get a can of gas and, um..."
"And what?"
"Oh, right... the flat. Let's get to the gas station and figure it out with them. C'mon, Johnny. It'll be okay. They'll have a tire or something."
John, shaking his head slowly, expecting things to get worse, locks the pickup, then does what Andy said and gets in the passenger seat of the Monte Carlo. He mumbles directions to the gas station. And that's all it is... a gas station. Andy mutters, "Just some gas pumps. They don't even sell gas cans, so this is no help."
Blowing out his cheeks, John mutters, "I forgot this was only for gas. Well, I fucked this up really bad," and Andy shrugs, "Damn, I'll need to call Dickie. I wanted to avoid that, but..."
John brightens up. "Of course, call Dickie! Why didn't I think of that? That's the most logical solution. I'll do it..." He calls and says, "Dickie Marshall, please..." Then, "Oh, hi, Mr. Marshall, this is John Darling, and..." and he shakes his head, "I'm, ah. What? No, that's not, ah..."
Andy gently takes the phone from John.
John nods, "You tell him," and then, his fingers shaking, he lights a cigarette, hating himself for screwing everything up. Meanwhile, Andy explains what the situation is to Mr. Marshall. Then he explains it all over again to Dickie."
He gives John a hug, mumbling, "Dickie will take care of everything, Darling. Since we're here, though, I might as well gas up the Monte Carlo." After filling Dickie's shit-box car with gas, Andy drives them back to John's pickup, where Dickie will meet them. It's twenty long minutes and two more cigarettes smoked by John before Dickie pulls up in a tow truck.
Getting out all smiles, Dickie rubs John's head affectionately, saying to Andy, "Now it requires both of us to take care of our boy, John Darling." He hugs John. "Just joking with ya, buddy. I've got two new tires mounted on rims, one as a spare and a five-gallon gas can."
"Dickie, thank you!"
Getting a tire from the truck bed, Dickie mumbles, "Andy, get the other tire out and put it in the pickup." Then to John, "Hey, good buddy, don't look so glum; this kind of shit happens all the time. Usually, it's a good thing for us, or else we wouldn't be in the auto repair and road service business very long, would we? Speaking of that, you'll be working most of next week to pay for this road service. Haha, no, I'll give you a big discount."
John feels this swelling, warm, loving feeling in his heart for both Andy and Dickie, "I love you guys..."
Andy and Dickie do everything to get John back on the road as John watches, mumbling, "Thank you so much," every minute or so. It doesn't take long. Five minutes later, at the most, Dickie is putting the old tire in the back of his tow truck, mumbling, "I can save this tire for you, Johnny. No problem." Then, getting both arms around John, he says, "Cheer up! It's like old times, bro, me helping you out. I get a charge out of it. Love you, Darling. Be cool..."
He slaps Andy's hand, saying, "I'll see you right after work, Nurse. We'll have a beer at the campus pub," and they do a quick kiss with some dork blowing his horn driving by.
John and Andy wave as Dickie drives away, then Andy says, "No time for breakfast, but you have plenty of time to get a full tank of gas and then get to the airport with an hour or more to spare."
"Andy, you saved my life again. Thank you!"
"No problem. We'll go out to lunch next week. Drive safely."
John nods, then says, "No, wait. How about my lucky trip kiss?"
Andy grins, "Oh, that. I'm shocked you still want it after the bad luck you've had so far."
"I caused my bad luck, Andy. I should have gassed up last night. I need that lucky trip kiss!"
They're both grinning as they embrace and do a thirty-second wet, sloppy kiss while three different cars honk their horns at two young guys embracing and kissing at the side of the road. Their lips parted, and Andy mumbled, "What's with these hicks honking their horn every two minutes?"
John grins, "Us Wyoming hicks are used to seeing guys making out along the highways. Listen, bro, I love you like a brother. Thanks again, my best Boston buddy in the world," tears running down his face again.
Used to John's emotional outburst by now, Andy ignores it and pats John's ass, "Say hi to Gary for me, Johnny, and be careful driving."
"Thanks again, Andy...bye," and both guys get in their vehicles, wave, and drive away, both passing the Foodie Diner before Andy turns left on his way back to John's house in Cheyenne, which is temporarily Andy's house in Cheyenne.
John lets himself have a good cry at how wonderful it feels to have his wonderful friends save his ass again. He gets gas at the station he knew about from when the guys went to Fort Collins. A little later, driving at eighty miles an hour, he sees a sign saying, 'Welcome to Colorado.' John goes, "Well, okay!"
Then, an hour later, he was sure he was going the wrong way, lost again. Panicking, he's looking for a road he can turn around in when he sees a sign with a bright blue horse statue on it: a blue Mustang on its hind legs. That's the symbol for the Denver International Airport. Relieved that he was almost there, he continued on his way. "I'm not fucking lost!"
And he wasn't. John parked in the airport garage, feeling alone in this immense airport complex, losing a lot of the fake confidence he had about getting here on time. He thinks, 'I'm much better off when I do anything if I have somebody with me. It's just the way I am. I can't help it.'
He remembered where the elevators were located when he and Andy were here, seemingly a lifetime ago, and took one to the proper level of this humongous airport; getting off the elevator, he was almost surprised it was the proper level for where the gates for incoming and outgoing flights were. He got that right, anyway, and then dealt with the security lines.
That went okay, too, so, feeling better about himself, he found the gate for his flight and plopped his ass on a seat to double-check on his phone that this was the correct gate, and it was. What a relief!
It was ten-after-one, exactly two hours before his flight would take off. "Well, how about that!" he muttered to himself.
With his satchel on his lap, he nodded his head, checked the time on his phone again, and then looked around. He's feeling a little cocky, smiling that he got here with plenty of time to spare. He's thinking, 'Yeah, you got here on time, but it took two friends working together for an hour to make it possible.' He chuckled, shaking his head, 'Don't be so hard on yourself, Darling.' Then, 'I need to eat something. I'm lightheaded.'
Unable to remember where he and Andy ate two months ago when coming from Boston, they had a long layover here. So, it was a fifty-fifty chance, and naturally, John, carrying his satchel, wandered in the opposite direction he and Andy went. Passing two unfamiliar, intimidating-looking eating establishments a hundred yards down the wide, busy, crowded corridor, he saw a KFC.
Relieved, he ordered and ate a four-piece extra crispy KFC combo box that included a breast, leg, thigh, and wing, plus coleslaw, mashed potatoes and gravy, and a biscuit. Looking at the menu, he saw he'd just eaten 1990 calories, plus a Pepsi, which was another two hundred calories?
KFC desserts caught his eye, and he bought two servings of fudge brownies and ate them, walking back to the gate. He finally felt relaxed, sitting at the proper gate, pleasantly full an hour before boarding. Looking around at everyone sitting at this gate, he thought, 'It's not like you've done something that millions of others can't do. Every-fucking-body can get to the right gate in the airport with time to spare before their flight.'
Still, he mentally patted himself on the back for being one of the multitudes who could do this.
Taking out his phone, he forgot about his plan not to use his phone until he was on the plane and sent thank you texts to Andy and Dickie. Then, looking around again, he didn't see a single person of interest. There were a number of dudes wearing cowboy hats, though, so John second-guessed himself about not going back to the apartment for his.
Then, frowning, he remembers Dickie affectionately rubbing his head, so, touching his head, John thinks, 'My hair is a fucking disgrace. I need to find a restroom.'
He's back in the wide corridor looking for a restroom. He sees a shop that sells books, magazines, gum, candy, etc., and walks there to buy something to read. Instead, he sees a paperback book of crossword puzzles, so he's going to buy that and a BIC pen, plus a baseball cap with the Denver International Airport logo of a blue stallion on its hind legs on the front panel above the hat's bill.
Waiting in line at the register for a woman to pay for two magazines, John picks up a plastic packet of Tic Tac breath mints costing a ridiculous airport rip-off price of $1.89 and then pays for everything with a fifty-dollar bill. Rolling his eyes as he walks back to the gate, he adds up in his head thirty dollars for the cap, about the same for lunch at KFC, and then the crossword puzzle book, BIC pen, and Tic Tac mints. It's almost a hundred dollars spent by John. Multiply that by the sixty-nine million passengers that flew out of this airport last year, which adds up to a lot of money before you even figure out the ticket costs. And the grossly overpriced liquor, too.
Out loud again, he mutters, "Yeah, but what the fuck do I care about that?"
He adjusts his hat, pulling the brim down a little lower, and walks further down the corridor and into a men's room to take a piss. After washing his hands, he doesn't do anything with his hair now that his new hat is hiding it.
Back at the gate, sitting, John takes less than ten minutes to do a crossword puzzle. Shaking his head, muttering, "Too easy," he flips through the pages to the section for, 'Challenging Puzzles.' He completed two of those puzzles before hearing the boarding announcement for business class passengers.
Standing in the quick-moving line with his satchel in his left hand, his new hat on his head, and his phone in his right hand, he waits for his turn. Then, he shows the barcode on his phone and proceeds to his business-class seat. He stows his satchel in the overhead storage, keeping the crossword puzzle book with him to work on during the flight.
A minute later, a bald, fat man in his fifties or sixties stowed a small case next to John's satchel and then sat next to him, saying, "Hello. My name is Samuel Moyer, in case you wondered. I see you're a very handsome young man, and I'm sure you're an extremely interesting one as well, but I don't need to know your name, and I would ask you not to attempt small talk with me. Thank you so much for that courtesy."
John made a face, nodded, and then went back to his crossword puzzle, inching closer to the plane's window. Except for saying "No, thank you" to the flight attendant's offer of food, beverage, pillow, and eye mask and "Yes, please" to noise-canceling headphones, the passenger sitting in the seat next to John never said another word the entire flight. John couldn't imagine anything better.
From the flight attendant, John accepted a pillow, a late cold lunch, and a beer. He could have had a hot lunch but already had a big hot lunch from KFC.
So, John silently ate his avocado and ham salad sandwich, the bag of Cape Cod potato chips, and the coleslaw that came with the sandwich. Plus, the cute ice cream sundae and the beer. John managed to consume everything. It was weirdly good, although, surprisingly, the plane's late lunch coleslaw wasn't as good as the KFC coleslaw.
During the flight, John did eight crossword puzzles, only needing to improvise for three incorrect words written in ink. It was a quiet, pleasant, two-hour and nine-minute flight, and the deplaning went smoothly as well.
Following the signs in the much smaller Billings, Montana, airport, John found where the shuttle buses waited and got on the correct one that pulled away from the airport three minutes later. He was at Gary's hotel at twenty minutes to six, walking around the big lobby, then sitting in a comfortable armchair.
Huh, yeah, things went badly in Cheyenne, but since then, everything has been sailing smoothly, except now he's getting nervous again, and he's not sure why. Seeing a RESTROOMS sign he abruptly gets up and brings his crossword puzzle book and satchel to the men's restroom to take a long piss and wash up. Then, taking his new hat off, he tries fixing his hair without much success.
With his hat back on, he sees a young guy with a black beard in the lobby again like Gary's. The guy's looking around as something buzzes in the back of John's brain. Making a face, trying to figure out what made the buzz in his brain, he sits in another comfortable armchair, thinking, 'If Gary lost thirty pounds, he'd look like...' Then he gasps and jumps up, walking after the bearded young man, asking, hardly believing, "Um, excuse me, Gary?"
Gary turns around, and a big smile breaks out on his bearded face. Walking towards one another, no one noticing them in this huge lobby, Gary mutters, "There's my cutest boyfriend in Wyoming, and now Montana, too," and John does a silly little finger way, murmuring, "Uh-huh, hi, Gary. You're, um... I didn't think it was you when I first... I mean, holy shit, you look great!"
They hug as Gary grinned and muttered, "Oh, my. You've been eating regularly, haven't you?"
John mutters, "And you haven't been eating at all."
Letting go of one another without kissing, they study one another. John snickers, "I'm fatter than you." Gary mumbles, "No, you're not. You're looking good, baby. Good enough to eat, actually."
John beams as Gary puts his arm across his shoulders, saying seriously, "It's wonderful to see you, Darling. You look so pretty, so much cuter in person than your photo on my phone. And I like your Denver Airport hat."
John's emotionally happy, so, of course, his eyes are stinging, and he's afraid to try speaking because his voice might have that embarrassing 'crying' sound to it, so he does what he always does and leans against Gary's side, his not-fat side now, and sort of melds into Gary, who murmurs, "It feels so good to be against your young body again."
Feeling steadier, John mutters, "I'm not so young anymore, Gary. My birthday was yesterday. You're only two years older than me now."
"Oh, dammit! I'm sorry I missed your birthday. Um, did I know when it was? Did you tell me?"
"Nah, I never told anybody the date. I forgot it myself... almost."
The guys are waiting with others for a car at the bank of hotel elevators; Gary says, "We'll have a birthday dinner for you tonight, pretty boy. Oh, God," and he hugs John with both arms, kissing his cheek, then kissing him on the lips with John kissing back, his dick getting hard as Gary murmurs, "I'm so glad you're here, John. It's been a pretty miserable couple of weeks for me, but it's almost over."
An elevator door opens, and two men and an old woman standing next to John and Gary get in the elevator car, pretending there's nothing unusual about two young men hugging and kissing right in front of them.
Gary is oblivious that anyone would find John and his demonstrative show of affection objectionable, while John is self-conscious about it. His face is red, blushing, as Gary continues holding John against him, saying as if they're alone in the elevator, "Sleeping with you tonight, Darling, will be the first good night's sleep I've had since I got here."
John goes, "Jeez, I, ah..." and Gary says to the two businessmen dressed in suits, "Excuse me," and puts his arm between them to punch the button for the fourth floor.
Off the elevator, Gary smiles brightly, "Our room is right here, two doors down. Convenient, huh, baby?"
John goes, "Oh, man, you're making me feel fabulous. I like it when you call me baby. I think I love you."
Gary got his card key and opened the hotel room's door, asking, "You love me, huh? Well, nothing surprises me about our crazy relationship. And I'm not saying there's anything wrong with the craziness, either."
"It's not crazy, Gary. I mean, I know why you said that, but mostly, I think it's the most thrilling thing of my life so far."
Taking the satchel from John, Gary hugs him, murmuring, "You're so refreshing, Darling. Goddamn, you're something special, alright. Hey, how much weight did you put on? Your face even looks, um, fuller or something. You look wonderfully healthy, um, and a little chubby, too. But, Christ, how could you get even better looking, too? You managed it somehow..."
Inside the room, Gary drops John's satchel, and they take off their coats as John says, "I put on about thirteen or fourteen pounds. Ya know, um, Gary, ah... I'm feeling overwhelmed being with you, or..." leaning on Gary, who looks concerned, asking, "What is it? What's wrong?"
As the door closes, John takes two slow, deep breaths, then murmurs, "I don't know, Gary. I'm so glad to be here, I guess it's..." Abruptly, he puts his arms around Gary's neck, kissing him on the mouth, both their mouths opening slightly as they do a tongue-involved, sloppy kiss that goes on for fifteen seconds. John presses his privates against Gary, moaning quietly, "You look so hot, Gary. I'm so happy being with you..." and he gasps in another deep breath, adding, 'Forgive me. I'm, ah, I don't know..."
John continues hugging Gary's neck, the sides of their faces together, Gary's short bearded one and John's baby face smooth one, as John again murmurs, "I don't know, Gary. I'm just so glad to be with you, I guess. I'm..."
Gary's arms are around John's waist, "Shh, Darling. Me too. I'm very happy you're here, um; I know we're acting nuts, or maybe we were together in another life or something. Whatever, we should enjoy ourselves even if we don't understand what's happening."
When John nods and takes another deep breath, Gary rubs his hands up John's back, murmuring, "C'mon, it's okay. Let's get our clothes off," and they walk past the bathroom to one of the two double beds. Instead of taking their clothes off, they stumble onto the bed, John's hat coming off when Gary lands on top of him. Their mouths together, Gary's beard feeling to John as it always does, scratchy. He squirms under a thirty-pound lighter version of his boyfriend as they make out, then lick each other's face, John's tongue flattening Gary's pitch-black beard as he's done on Gary's pitch-black pubic hair.
Of course, both boys have hard penises; John's is leaking precum. He sucks Gary's upper lip, then murmurs, "Fuck me, Gary... I've been needing it from you."
Unable to kick off their boots lying on the bed, Gary says, "Goddammit, sit up, Darling," using his familiar authoritative voice when he wants to use it. John goes, "Ahh," and quickly does what he's told, sitting next to Gary on the bed, kicking off his boots. Gary does the same, then John pulls Gary over on their sides to make out some more, and then they're pulling at each other's jeans, unbuttoning them, and pulling down the zippers. Gasping, John says, "I brought the toys and a new tube of KY-jelly."
Gary stops pulling on John's new jeans, smiles, and says, "You did? I was sure you'd leave the toys at home."
John goofily feels sentimental for a second because 'He called the apartment home.' Then, he asks, "Should I get them?"
Gary says, "Yeah, sure. It'll help us calm down," and he rubs John's head, murmuring, "I'm so fucking glad you're here!"
"Me too, Daddy."
Gary makes a face and mutters, "Daddy? Jesus, I forgot you say shit like that," and then, "We've got parts of three days, so let's take it easy."
John says, "I'll try."
Grinning, Gary's like, "So, go ahead, get the toys. I could have hurt you by losing control and jamming my fat dick into your tender asshole."
"I've been using the dildo when I jerk off, Gary, so my asshole isn't all that tender anymore."
Gary's standing now, pulling his sweatshirt over his head, then lightly rubbing his hairy chest, mumbling, "Haha, don't be shy. Tell me all your private secrets," and he squeezes John's shoulder, murmuring, "You're so much fun, bro. Go ahead, though, and get the toys and the lube."
John nods, and as he walks over to the door where Gary dropped his satchel and coat, Gary asks, "Is that my winter hoodie you were wearing?"
"Yes. I wear all your stuff. I've got two of your T-shirts in my satchel."
Gary shrugs, muttering, "That's cool. Um, we'll only use the dildo, Darling. Um, unless you want the cock ring too." He pulls his jeans off, then his underpants, and lastly, his socks.
Walking back to the bed, John has the dildo and the tube of lubricant. John grins, seeing Gary naked, Gary's shortish dick looking very fat and firm from their make-out. John mumbles, "You look almost skinny."
"Not really. Well, by comparison to how fat I was, which never was really all that FAT, ya know?"
John tentatively rubs his fingers through Gary's chest hair, muttering, "Yeah, I know. Um, I've used both the cock ring and dildo when pulling my dick, Gary, but I'd also look at your picture on my phone and fantasize it's you I'm having sex with." Grinning, he adds, "Instead of my hand, haha. Even as make-believe, you're a lot better than my hand.
John snickers, "Thank God. No, seriously, that makes me feel good, Darling," and takes the dildo from John, then holds it out for John to squeeze some lube on it.
John says, "Obviously, you're better than my hand... you're better than anybody I've ever had sex with."
Gary rubs lube up and down the dildo and then on his hard cock, mumbling, "And you've got the best ass I've ever had sex with. How about that? We were made for each other."
They both chuckle, and then Andy says, "Oh, I have a condom if you think..." John interrupts, "You decide. When you decide everything,
everything is better, Gary. Okay?"
Gary shrugs as John's eyes open wide, watching and imagining Gary doing that stroking on his dick. John gropes himself and then finishes getting undressed.
Naked, he sits next to Gary on the bed, then smiles, leans against him, murmuring, "I can't believe how slim you've gotten. You look so cool, Gary, and really sexy hot, too."
Done lubing the dildo and his cock, Gary says, "Thanks, I feel good being thinner! Okay, hop off the bed, baby, and I'll screw the dildo into your pretty ass."
John does that, bending over, hands on his knees in front of Gary, looking back at him. Gary pushes the dildo's slim end past John's prostate, mumbling, "I weighed two hundred and five pounds five weeks ago, and now I'm at the far end of a healthy weight for a five-foot-ten-inch young male at a hundred and seventy-five pounds. I want to lose ten more pounds."
As Andy begins a sort of twisting motion getting the dildo's wider and wider shaft further and further up John's ass, it's all feeling good so far to John. His penis has been a boner for a while, and it's getting harder by the second. He says, "Ahh, that feels good, Daddy. Um, you and I are going to weigh the same if you lose another ten pounds. I weigh a hundred and sixty pounds, and I feel fat."
"Yeah, as I said, you look a little chubby, but at your height, that's a good healthy weight. You need more exercise, though."
"HEY! I'm exercising! I even increased the repetitions last Monday."
Gary says, "That's awesome, bro! Um, I think the dildo is in far enough. It went in easy, so that's encouraging. Your anus is getting used to a fat cock. Ah, the weight topic, though. We sound like a couple of cunts worried about our weight. Let's, ah..."
Squeezing his rectum muscles against the dildo feels sexy as hell; John interrupts Gary, "No, Gary. Guys can be concerned about their weight, too. Why not? It's a health issue as well as an appearance issue, and what do you mean I look chubby? I have a little fat ring around my waist; that's all."
"If you say so. You look fine, really," and he smacks John's ass, chuckling and adding, "I noticed you weren't wearing your girlie panties, Darling. I liked you in those panties."
John is able to stand straight even with a fat dildo in his ass. He puts his arms around Gary's neck again and presses his hairless chest against Gary's hairy one, the side of his face against the short, prickly beard on the side of Gary's face, murmuring, "I just love that we're together having one of our slightly contentious conversations again, Gary," and he kisses Gary, adding, "You still smell so sweet and sexy. It's your skin. I missed that," and he kisses Gary's face again, his boner bumping off Gary's belly button.
Gary hugs John tightly, murmuring, "I guess it's sort of love at first sight for us, Darling. Um, not love per se exactly, but I'm crazy about, um, about everything about you, and yet I hardly know you." He laughs, then says, "It's crazy, and what else is crazy is your goofy hair. It's cut all different lengths at different places. What the fuck?"
"It's a boring story. Ah, like three different people were trying to make my hair, ah... Andy wanted me to have bangs, then... Oh, it's complicated, and how about your hair? What happened to your flattop?"
"My hair is too long now for a flattop now. How's your ass feeling?"
"It feels as good as your body feels against mine," and John hugs Gary tighter, leaning tightly against him, mumbling, "Dickie gave up on the flattop, too. He's combing his hair the same way you're doing it."
"How are those two, the nurse and Dickie getting along? I told Dickie not to text me, and unlike you, he does what I tell him."
A moan slips out of John's throat, then, "Can you fuck me now, Gary?"
"Yeah, absolutely. I'm about to shoot off just from your luxurious bodily contact. Gawd! You turn me on like nobody else ever has. What is going on with us...?"
He gently pulls John's arm from around his neck, murmuring, "Lean over with your hands on the bed, baby."
The reality of being a minute away from experiencing something John had been fantasizing about for eighteen days and which seemed much longer than that to him made John let out a whiny-sounding moan, doing what Gary told him to do. Feeling Gary touching the dildo, John pushes his ass up, trying to hold his breaths but can't, moaning, "Mmmm, oooh, oh, Gary..."
Gary's fumbling to get the dildo out, his own cock now as hard as steel and fatter than make any sense, but there it was, shiny with lube. The dildo gets dropped on the floor, and with a sigh, Gary pushes the fat head of his boner at John's opened anus, the head opening it further as it tightly slips in past the sphincter muscle, John grunting and arching his back, "Ahhh, ooh, Gary..."
Then from John, "OW! No, don't stop, feels good..." as Gary slid another inch of hard boner up John's ass.
Another hard, fat inch of cock goes inside John Darling's body as he puffs off a string of, "Oh, oh, oh..." and Gary's eyes tightly close as he's trying to appreciate the millions of pleasure sensations percolating from his engorged penis. When the last inch disappears inside John's rectum, they both gasp, "AAAhhh," then, "Oooh, ummm."
Gary humps against John's buttocks, then pulls his boner back, almost all the way out, hesitates, rubs John's back, and then pushes his boner incredibly tightly up John's ass again. John makes a quiet gasp, and his whole body shudders as he climaxes a long string of cum that splattered against the side of the bed. It felt so otherworldly good; John's head hung limply between his arm as he squeezed the muscles in his groin, getting another spurt of cum to plop out and drop to his feet.
He moans quietly as Gary, unaware that John has climaxed already, continues the slow fuck, Gary floating in ecstasy, thrilled by this first sex since the last time he had sex, which was with John Darling. When he's involved with a boyfriend, like Dickie, for example, Gary's content with having sex a couple of times a week. When he's not with a boyfriend, he's content with having sex maybe once a month with a gay fuck buddy when drunk or high... whatever.
It's different with this boyfriend, though. Since meeting and mysteriously falling for John in their unusual, frantic, and heated mutual attraction way, Gary is into new territory, and what satisfied him sexually in the past can't cut it now that Gary's crazily infatuated with John Darling Junior.
It's the same for John. He climaxed from just having Gary's cock in his ass for thirty seconds. It's more than the anal intercourse, though. It's everything: being with Gary again, talking together, smiling and grinning, and even the fun uncontentious, arguing, and, of course, making out and being hugged; Gary's scent, hearing his authoritative voice giving John goosebumps, and now that Gary's slim, it's all been a too wonderful, too irresistible Gary Thomas overload for John, so he climaxed after less than a minute of feeling Gary's boner inside him, climaxed with chills and thrills, dizzy with sexual pleasure.
The beautiful-feeling daze-like trance after climaxing John's feeling continues as Gary thrusts his boner harder and faster, but he doesn't last much longer than John did. Less than a minute after John blew his load, Gary made a scary gasping sound and humped against John's ass so hard John fell forward onto the bed, Gary's boner pulling out of John's ass as he climaxed, blowing cum up John's back. Gary growled, pulling his cock to the side where he shot two more spurts of sizzling hot cum. Gary continuing to gasp, pushes his cock back up John's ass, both guys moaning, "AAAhhh, ooh," and then more thrusting, John lying on the bed, his feet on the floor, and Gary thrusting, both guys working up a sweat, grunting, "Ump," with every thrust.
Two minutes of thrusting has John's dick tightening up again, but Gary slows down, then backs up, pulling his dick out of John's ass along with a plop of cum, some drooling under John to pool behind his nuts and another drool running down the back of John's legs. Gary sighs, then mutters, "We're a mess, Darling, and it's all your fault for being an irresistible boyfriend."
Pushing up from the mattress, John mumbles, "That was too intense, Gary. Fabulously so intense I blew my load in, like, I don't know, it was awfully fast... less than a minute. It happened so fast because of being back together with you."
"Aw, you say the nicest things. Would you take a bath with me? I had just gotten back from class when I met you in the lobby, and I never have time to shower in the morning; plus, you're a mess with my jism, so..."
John has a big smile on his face, saying, "Wow, yeah, I'll take a bath with you, you skinny motherfucker! I'm sort of shocked that YOU want to do that, though. It's something I'd do with you every day, but I never thought..."
They do a sweaty hug, Gary mumbling, "Not every day, but this is a special day. This is sexy as hell, baby! This sweaty hugging is raunchy-good," then he looks serious and kisses John on the mouth, murmuring, "Us, you and me, have no business being this hot together, it makes no sense, as we've both repeatedly said, but it's the best feeling I've ever experienced, and I'm having the best time of my life.
John says, "Oh, shit... now who is saying the nicest things ever?"
It's hard getting used to seeing Gary thirty pounds lighter. It's hard to imagine Gary thirty pounds heavier now. Well, John hasn't got much in the way of full views of Gary because he made a point of not outwardly staring at Gary's naked body, although he'd like to stare at him, get the full effect of Gary being a lot thinner.
Gary's strong arm around John gets him walking to the bathroom; Gary says, "Imagine me going head over heels for a tall, chubby fellow such as yourself."
"Yeah, imagine that. How soon do you think you'll be able to fuck my fat ass again?"
"Hahaha! Oh, man, you're not fat, you cute fucker, you. Um, maybe in the bathtub, if I get lucky..."
To be continued... donnymumford@outlook.com
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