MEMORIES OF ROBBIE
True Story
That was his name, Robbie (from Robert). He was about 17-18 when I first saw him, and he me. On a beach on Nantucket Is. Then again in front of the Post Office in the little town at the end of the Island where I stayed, `Sconset. And where Robbie lived summers.
To say we both "had an interest in each other" is an understatement. It seems like it happened from the very first eyes-on-each- other. Jumping ahead a little: Robbie, very handsome, medium height, "preppy-looking" brunette with a slender, supple build, is an avid skier. He comes from a well-to-do.family or he wouldn't have had such a huge summer house on the Island, and in `Sconset. Which is very Mercedes Benz. His father is a party bigwig--I think Republican. (I can't mention his last name for obvious reasons but it's a prominent. PA family). Robbie is very outgoing and popular.
He has this thing about men, or this was my perception since I'm sure I wasn't the "only one." If he ever lays an eyes on you, they about penetrate you. When he looks at you-i.e., when he's taken w/you-it's up and down and then a long stare out of his big brown eyes. (Damn, I used to have a pic of him, he's really cute, but it has since been lost, which is another story--about my personal pix when I moved.)
Robbie loves "cock," that gay expression, which I personally don't particularly like but he would be the first, I think, to admit this passion of his. When I saw him a second time on the public beach, once again it was the up- and-down, and looking at my crotch.
Well, I didn't skimp on eyes on him, either. His body is one of my very favorites: Lean, tight, "ectomorphic," defined, very tanned, of course, since he's outdoors all the time, even in winter. With those "lean-and- mean" looks, his abs are like rippled sand almost bony, his pecs subtly modeled as with a sculptor's chisel, his nipples brick-red and protruding slightly as though waiting to protrude even more.
When I would come up from the surf after riding some waves body-surfing or on an inflated raft, Robbie might be standing nearby. Though this was rare because he generally went where his famly or friends wanted to go on any given day, and Nantucket has many beaches! We would say hello and as usual look each other over.
As he emerged from the very cold surf off Nantucket, he was covered with gooseflesh all over, his nipples looked like reddish pencil erasers-so erected they looked like they might pop right off of his smooth, brown chest. When we stood and talked briefly-`cause I was with other people, too, inquisitive people who ask, "Who was that?" etc.-at the rolling surf, the longer we talked the more obvious the swelling was on the left side in our tight swim suits. He wore loose yellow ones like "trunks" but he still "showed"; mine were a form of dark-green Speedos.
The more I saw of Robbie, maybe once a week, the more attracted I was to him and the more I wanted to get together w/him. Although I was usually up to my ears in guests.
That first summer an odd thing happened. I had a guest at the cottage and we were just returning from a movie, putting the car, my VW Beetle, in the little garage. But lo and behold! there was Robbie standing in the driveway! And it was about 11 p.m. People turn in early on the Island so it was startling to see anyone standing there! My guest was gay (but not a partner) and looked as startled and puzzled as I did. It was obvious Robbie had been waiting there for quite awhile. I told my guest, "Go on inside. I'll see what he wants." I was trying to be very formal as though I didn't even know this young guy.
When the guest disappeared into the cottage, Robbie, dressed in a white tank top, shorts, and sandals walked up to me and-unbelievably-said in a shaky, lusty voice, kind of whispering hoarsely: "Al, I want to suck your cock!"
I think I may have responded with something stupid, like "WHAT??!!" I was so honestly taken aback-but also pleased-I didn't know quite what to say. (I had a roommate at the U. of Chicago who was blunt like that in making propositions, whereas I'm not bold like that.)
So, I said as pleasantly as possible, "Jeez, Robbie. Not now. `Nother time, OK?? Sorry!"
I was kinda rushing `cause I thought my guest might come back out to see what was going on; this encounter was very unusual, to say the least. The cottage is quite isolated so that anybody would have to beeline to it to get there from the more populated "Bluffs" near where Robbie's house was. Then I added, when he looked sort of sad: "I'm not brushing you off, Rob. By no means! I just can't right now. OK? Understand? See ya later for sure!" I headed inside the house as Robbie still stood there.
God, I really felt bad, like he thought I had snubbled him. But I had no choice. Because of this, I thought I might never see him again or something.
Well, that was at the very end of the first summer of my acquaintance with Robbie H. The next summer, arriving in mid-June and with no guests, I spot Robbie and he me near the P.O. I'm rushing and just collecting my mail and opening up the cottage, etc., but we stop, look at each other long and knowingly. He, smiling. We're like across the roundabout from each other.
A few days later I'm in the house showering late afternoon after the beach. I hear a knock on my screen door. A neighbor is in my livingroom waiting for me to come out of the shower to share a drink. So, she goes to the door. I hear voices. Then she opens the bathroom door and says, "Someone named `Robbie' wants to see you."
I do a quick drying-off, wrap the towel around myself as best I can (the neighbor, a friend, is not shocked by the more-thanhalf-nakedness), and appear at the screen door, since Robbie remained outside, politely. So through the screen we talk fast.and low. We make hot plans for that evening. Hmmm!
We are both to pedal our bikes to the Lighthouse, about _ of a mi. away, stow them there imn underbrush and then walk down the hill into the little patch of woods "for a talk"--as he half-explains it.
"OK," I say feeling very horny in my towel as we peer at each other through the mesh of the screen making the vision, or images, all the sexier. "So, 9 p.m., right?" I say. "C, ya."
So the time goes by and it comes up 8:45 p.m. I hop on my bike quite sure Robbie would show on time, or at least trusting he would. It's not all that cool that night so I wear no undies, shorts, and a tee. I shave for the occasion.
Well, I was right. Robbie was there at the Lighthouse perched on his bike Precisely at 9 looking so "sweet," the best word for it. A sly smile washes over his face. Somehow he looked all spruiced up although he had on the usual sports shirt and jeans, sneakers. Perhaps he had just showered. But it looked the way we all look when we're ready "to go out." A certain scrubbed, hair-in-place, cleaned-up special look--hard to describe. But that was the way he looked.
We rolled our bikes a little down the hill and out of sight, me looking at his v-shaped back and his brown, golden-haired arms on the handlebars. While chatting and kind of chuckling for some reason, we both walked slowly into a combination of bushes and trees-well secluded, the sweeping beam of the Lighthouse periodically flying over and light-brushing the tops of the trees. Very sexy, the atmosphere!
Robbie had chosen a cool spot! There is something about such a "roaming" beam that reminds one, or at least me, of hands lightly going over and just barely touching your body (as when masturbating, or at least when I do) or when touching or caressing someone else, lightly
We sat down in a small clearing, the reflected light playing on our faces Then suddenly-both together, simultaneously-we reached toward each other and hugged and held each other real close while sitting and leaning up against a big tree. Our chests heaved in unison. It was such a terrific jigh--a first time weith a sweet person, our hearts almost beating together.. While so embraced, our hands began to roam involuntarily with that kind of initial, exploratory curiosity you experience when embracing and feeling up someone for the first time. I know the human anatomy very well (about my interest in that beginning at age 14, later when I first tried really "elaborate" masturbation).and in Robbie's anatomy in particular. Then a long, tonguey kiss!! Incredible!
I couldn't help but notice he had the same kind of curiosity about my body. In other words, he didn't just "plunge" down to my cock right off. Instead, like me he got into this prolonged "foreplay," I guess it's called. (I once in a different situation called it "floor-play" by mistake!! :-) ) where we were examining every ridge, every concavity, legs, arms, delts, ears, back of the neck-- everything!
Then came the reaching under our shirts--from the top. The rubbing over of our chests and bellies amid a lot of panting and ohhing and ahhing.
Then the quick search-easy to find!--for our "private parts." Both of us erected like mad, hard as rocks. Frankly, I thought I might just pop in my shorts if I wasn't careful. I'm a quick-cummer most of the time. This means, with control, you can prolong the sensation of being "on edge".
It was then that Robbie completely took over. I don't believe in that "top" and "bottom" or "active" and "passive" thing-it depends, at least to me, on circumstances and the other person who is involved, how I feel, how he feels,and so on. In fact, I don't even believe in a "hierarchy" of sex-that is, one thing, act, is "better" than another, etc. Again, it depends on the person(s) and the situation--IMHO)
Let's face it: Robbie wanted to suck me off that night. Period. OK. He proceeded to go down on me with extreme intensity. With me, I admit, I prefer a two-man thing.Yet no matter how hard I tried to gently steer him into something more mutual-even 69-he persisted in concentrating on my cock. Like he had had that on his mind for a long time, or ever since our meetings at the beach. And that was that. OK, fine.
As he sucked me so nice, I was busy feeling up his chest and nipples and felt-and watched-his abs flexing as he shifted around in sucking me off. "Dynamic tension," you might say. I massaged his cock. But while his penis was very hard, it seemed to me he wasn't all that interested in his own cock. (That kind of disappoints me, but anyway.later.There were second and third episodes with R. that were quite different.).
Finally, in a very short time, like 15 min or so, I came. Real big. He took my thick load into his throat and swallowed my cum as if it was a delicious lump of ice cream or something--actually smacking his lips as he did! He couldn't come when I fondled him and said, "Al, sorry, man. I just jacked off before I left home!"
I guess, hot and horny guy that he is, he "got ready"-maybe in the shower--before biking over to the Lighthouse. You can get kind of excited ahead of a session and not resist beating off ahead of time sometimes. I know.
Robbie was in general extremely "sexed up" as a guy, but I am no one to talk, either!
After that night's episode, guests started arriving and staying at my small cottage. But meanwhile, Robbie, with his parents' OK, had rented a room by himself just down the street from my place. I had moved into mine from the cottage for that one summer. Robbie and I both knew we had a lot more "exploring" and enjoying-of-each-other to do afterf that foirst night near the Lighthouse.
I had to think up some convincing way of getting free from my hosting obligations, not to mention from a very close friend with whom I had a sexual relationship, and who was staying in the house almost all summer! Of course, he had the curiosity of several cats!
So what to do?
Robbie and I came up with the oddest plan you ever heard of. I would get up real early-before anyone was up in either of our houses-on the pretext of going "bird- watching," which I actually like to do. Robbie didn't have to make up anything since he was scott free where he was living. We planned on a certain upcoming, incredibly early morning, that I would drive by his bedroom window, first floor facing the little street. He would hear me-say @ 6:30 a.m. (!!)- and climb out the window. He could not use the door as he would have to pass through or near some of the landlords' other rooms, and the front door was noisy.
This time we planned something very nice and comfortable. I would take a room at a motel in town and we would have some relaxing fun privately that way.
So, I had booked the room the night before. That morning I pull up alongside Robbie's house right on time. Out he climbs, lifting up the screen, and then jumping down onto the ground under the window. Then quickly into my VW. We immediately grab each others' thighs as I shift and drive off toward the motel. Robbie reaches down to my calf as I clutch to shift, feeling my leg muscle.
Just as we enter town 8 mi away, we see these police squad cars racing around a corner! No sirens, looking eeeie as hell and totally out of place in the very small town. We follow them a ways. They are drug-busting a big old house down a street! Junkie suspects pour out on the roofs! Men and women thinly drressed. Hippie-looking. Exciting! We watch all this commotion for about 20 min. Then we drive off to our motel room. I look in the mirror and see people being handcuffed!
And there-in our own room, with its quaint old- fashioned New England aromas, big wide old bed. Need I say!? that the sex was hot, free, and wild! This time, Robbie, with a pent-up load, had to hold back his urge to cum. I don't remember what position we were in exactly when we came except I know we could see each oitber's cocks exploding. Man, it WAS hot! I mean it was romantic, too. We really loved each other in that particular, new way. We tolds each iotger how we had "thought of each othger" over the ewinter. And so on, going into some detail.
The next summer, I was back at th ocean-side cottage. Somehow Robbie knew I had arrived and was alone. Maybe because it was the first week of my arrival. I often wondered how he knew I was there, I never thought to ask him. But anyway he did. Maybe `cause it was mid-June, my usual time to arrive. I think he himself used to arrive with his family just after college let out.
Anyway, that morning I'm lying alone in bed real early, REAL early, in the morning in the larger, main bedroom in the cottage. The surf was dropping lazily as it does in a lake or on the ocean early in the morning--outside my window only about 100 feet to the east. A slightly chilly, damp wind is wafting through the screened window, the Sun starting to rise greenish-grey through a thin, morning fog.
All of a sudden at the ocean-side window right next to my bed I wake up startled as I hear this voice, sort of soft but also very much wide-awake, exclaiming, "Heyyy, Al!!! It's ME! ROBBIE!"
Me, with a morning hard-on, eyes just opening, I peer at the screen. Robbie it is! His shirt off, in shorts, looking wild as hell, as though he had just risen out of the ocean like an ET or something!
"Wait, Babe. I'll let you in. On the ocean side."
He comes in with that just-got-up sort of puffy but alert look on his face. I think I literally carried him to my bed, I was so glad to see him.
We resumed where we had left off the preceding summer. Only this time--I warmed up some Vegetable Oil in a heavy cup on the stove, to smear smoothly on ourselves to get the morning chill off of both of us. We covered each other in warm, sultry oil. First he takes the cup, then I. It made us glisten as we looked over and caressed our bodies, looking at our own and each other's or both at the same time, our slippery hands and fingers examoing all the rises and falls. It was divine! What a way to start the day!!
You know? I can even run over and imagine all this in my memory the several years later.when I'm alone .and horny. I sometimes even warm up some Oil to recapture it all..
Memories are great things!
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