This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. This story also deals with love and consensual sexual activities between men. If you are not of legal age, reside in an area where viewing such material is illegal, or are offended by such themes, do not read further and leave this site now.
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Two Lives - Two Loves
Chapter 2
We fooled around in the pool for a while longer, splashing around, throwing a ball around, and wrestling around some more. Jon seemed to like that best of all.
A thousand thoughts were running through my mind.
Jon knew, or at least strongly suspected, that I was gay, but he was cool about it. And here we were having full body contact, underwater wrestling matches.
I had never known Jon to be much of a swimmer and people who don't swim competitively generally didn't buy those Speedo racers, unless...maybe... Yet, here he was sporting a tight pair that looked like they'd just been taken off the store rack.
Jon had always seemed a little shy, and you didn't have to own Speedos to know that they hid nothing whatsoever from public scrutiny and even less when they were wet. I'd chosen my baggy trunks for that reason. I didn't want to risk intimidating Jon, yet here he was wearing the hottest trunks I'd seen in awhile, seemingly without a care as to who saw what.
Was he trying to tell me something? I could have sworn I saw him checking me out when we were tossing the ball around. And had his hand lingered maybe just a hair longer on my ass than it otherwise might have when we were wrestling around?
I had to be imagining this. That had to be it. I was letting my desire for him cloud my judgment and I reminded myself not to read into it anything that might not be there. I really did not want to risk fucking up our friendship.
"It's time to start diving into that beer!" Jon called as he pulled himself up out of the pool. "Gotta start getting the steaks ready, too."
"Excellent," I replied. "I'm going to take a quick shower and meet you back in the kitchen," I said as I threw a towel around my shoulders and headed inside.
"Good idea," he said. "...wash this chlorine off."
Jon followed just behind me and I knew I was not imagining things when I saw his reflection in the bank of French doors and noticed him totally checking me out when he thought I wouldn't notice. I didn't turn around, just kept walking. I was really interested to see how this went and I was glad he couldn't see the erection that my trunks were plastered around.
One thing this house did not have was a shortage of hot water. I almost had to turn the thing off to keep from roasting myself. The pressure was excellent, too and I let the needles of hot water work against my lower back. It ached from time to time after I overexerted, a reminder of a lacrosse injury. Swimming helped a lot by keeping me limber but the back still ached. The oversized shower added immensely to the luxury of the experience. It was large enough to hold three people, allowing me to stretch out as the water pelted my back.
I hated to get out of that shower but I was going to melt if I stayed in there any longer. Now that I was very relaxed, I toweled off and got dressed. I thought about wearing something seductive to see Jon's reaction but decided against it. I decided on a pair of beat up khaki shorts and a rumpled looking Tee. I checked myself in the mirror. Perfect. Good looking, but not aggressively sexy. I combed back my wet hair, pulled on my Nike's and headed downstairs.
Jon apparently didn't linger in the shower as I had. I heard the water running in the kitchen as I came downstairs. He'd popped a DVD into the box already. It was some low rent horror picture of the kind Jon loved to watch and laugh at. As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I almost had to catch myself to keep my jaw from falling to the floor again.
For his afternoon apparel, Jon had decided on a cut-off tank top and a pair of khaki shorts that were so short I would have sworn I saw crotch hair. Those, combined with the Topsider moccasins he favored, really accentuated his gorgeous legs, making them look a lot longer than they were. Here I had purposely dressed so as not to seem aggressively sexy and there he was, looking like the pool boy at a gay's only Country Club. I quickly tried to put my eyes back in my head and act like nothing was unusual. I knew he saw my reaction despite my attempt at a quick recovery, a faint flickering smile crossing his face as he continued washing potatoes.
"S'up?" I said, trying to get my act together.
"Same ol'," Jon replied. "How was the shower?"
"Awesome! Those massaging showerheads are great. I haven't felt so relaxed in a long time."
Jon was a beer ahead of me. He popped the cap on a bottle of ale and handed it to me.
"You've got a little catching up to do. I'm almost ready for my second."
With a wink, I took a long pull at the bottle, downing almost half of it. Great stuff that ale; it started going right to my head. That steamy shower and the brew were conspiring to really loosen me up.
"Whew," I commented as I tried to steady myself from the head rush. "What is that?"
Jon smiled. "It's called "Golden Monkey," he said. "High alcohol content for an ale. Good, huh?"
"Duuuuuude," was all I could say as I nodded my head in agreement. "So what's for dinner?"
"Steak, baked potatoes, salad. Ice cream for dessert," he said as he set the potatoes aside.
As he turned to get something out of the fridge, I couldn't help but notice how tight those shorts were across that ass of his. I'm sorry, but I couldn't resist the temptation and the beer must've been going to my head really quickly.
"Jon, do you think you could've gotten those shorts any tighter?" I commented with a slight grin and a wink as I took another pull of the beer.
He laughed. "These are my favorite comfy clothes," he said, returning to the sink with some salad makings.
I was about to comment that I'd never noticed those comfy clothes before when a loud scream snatched my attention and yanked it in the direction of the TV. A truly hokey looking mummy was attacking some young college girl in what looked like a suburban ranch house.
"What the hell are we watching?" I asked, amazed at the apparent stupidity of the movie. I'll call it a movie 'cuz it didn't appear to be worthy of the moniker, "film".
"It's another one of the mummy genre"," Jon replied, amused at my reaction. "A bunch of archaeology students find an Aztec mummy and one of them brings it back to life with humorously horrifying results," he explained, sounding very much like a tagline.
"Horrible results would probably be a better choice of words," I noted. "I never understood what it is with you and cheap horror flicks."
"Ah, they're good for a laugh. Gives you something to make fun of."
"That's for sure. Who made this turkey, anyway?"
"A guy named DeSomething or other. He specializes in first- class B horror movies."
"First-class B horror movies," I intoned slowly, hoping that a slow repetition would help it make sense. It didn't, but my puzzling amused Jon. "Seems like an oxymoron, if you ask me."
One thing I did notice, however, was that the cast seemed a little too young and pretty, especially the guys. There was one dark haired guy who looked particularly tasty in a scene that showed him getting undressed and ready for sex with one of the girls.
This was all just getting too obvious. It couldn't mean anything else, but I still wanted to keep cool about it and see if Jon would make the first move. I cracked open a second beer and took another long draught. This was great stuff; I already had a nice little buzz starting. A couple more of these and I might not wait for Jon to make the first move, which was probably what he wanted.
We spent the rest of the afternoon laughing at another cheap horror flick, vampires on campus this time. Jon seemed to like this director; he was the same guy who'd done the previous flick. We threw the steaks on the grille for a while then brought everything out to eat by the pool.
It seemed like life couldn't get any better as we sat there and ate in the beautiful, quiet surroundings that his uncle had provided us.
Except for a few words here and there we pretty much ate steadily and in silence. The sun was starting its downward trek and the late afternoon light made Jon look as tasty as the steak I'd just inhaled. Geez, I hadn't realized how hungry I was. Finally, we were done. We did the stomach- patting thing accompanied by the usual grunts of satisfaction. We cleared everything away and Jon brought a bottle of liqueur he liked in his uncle's collection. We found a couple of glasses and went back out poolside.
Jon poured us each a couple of fingers worth of it, Anisette, and we made ourselves comfortable at the table and watched the sun head towards the horizon.
We were pretty quiet. That was the great thing about a close friend: You didn't need to constantly talk to appreciate one another's company. We chitchatted a little but I could tell Jon had something on his mind that he wanted to get out but couldn't. The energy around him seemed tense, like a dam that was getting ready to burst, but still he held back.
"Jon, everything okay? You seem tense about something," I asked in my best voice of concern. I could tell this pump needed a bit of priming; otherwise it was just not going to give.
"Yeah.I'm fine," he said hesitantly. "But, Brad, I want to ask you something..."
"Go ahead."
"...and I don't want you to think I'm weird or something..."
"I'd never think that, Jon," I said softly.
"...'cuz you're my best friend and I really don't want to screw that up."
"Don't worry about it, Jon. You're my friend no matter what. I just wish you'd tell me what's bothering you 'cuz from here it looks like you're working your stomach into a sizable knot."
"Okay.I was wondering...I mean..." he sputtered a bit, tripping over words that he was having a hard time shoving out. Finally saying: "You're gay, right?"
He'd never asked that before, and I was taken a little off guard by the directness of it. I don't know why but I just hesitated for half a beat: "Yeah, Jon, I am. Is that a problem?" I asked, trying to make sure I didn't sound aggressively defensive.
"No, no...not at all," he said, putting his palms up, showing he meant no harm. "I was just wondering...I mean, if I'm getting too personal, tell me...but..."
"What?" I asked, looking at him quizzically.
"Have you...ever done it with another guy before?"
I couldn't bear to watch him twist like this any longer. "Jon, let me ask you something," I said firmly.
"What?" he said, looking up at me from the spot on the pool deck he'd been staring at.
"Jon...you're gay too, aren't you?" I asked, more of a statement than a question. I tried to sound supportive, not accusatory.
He was stunned by my question. This was absolutely the first time he'd ever been openly, seriously confronted with that thought judging from his deer-in-the-headlights expression. He looked into my eyes, blinking nervously and just nodded.
"You always were a bit psychic," he said quietly.
I went around the table to where he sat and put a hand on his shoulder. "Stand up," I told him.
"What?" he asked.
"Stand up," I repeated, a bit more forcefully this time. When he did, I embraced him in a bear hug and he slowly returned my embrace, tucking his face in next to mine.
"You're okay, Jon. There's nothing wrong with you," I told him softly. There was a quick sniffle as he embraced me harder. After a few minutes, I decided it was time to lighten things up a little and let my hands wander down to caress his firm gluts.
"Hmmmmmmm...," I quipped. "Nice job on the butt, Jon."
He couldn't keep himself from laughing and after the intense energy around us the past half hour it was good to hear him laugh.
"Thanks..yours is pretty nice, too," he said smiling and laughing. "Brad...,"
There was that tone again. He was gathering up the courage to ask something else. Finally...
"...would you...be my first?" he said with the greatest of sincerity and quiet innocence.
I knew it was coming, I sensed he was going to ask, but it still floored me when he did ask. I didn't have to think twice.
"I'd love to," I answered in a soft whisper as I stared into those blue pools of his. I slowly let my mouth drop down onto his and felt his tongue begin playing with mine as we pulled ourselves tightly together for the first time as lovers.
He was a good kisser and I loved being able to finally let my hands roam freely over his body as his explored mine. Man, he felt good. The tension I'd sensed was totally ebbing away from him now that he'd told me. Finally, after that unbelievable first kiss, I pulled away from his lips only long enough to whisper "Let's go upstairs" quietly in his ear.
He nodded and beamed that thousand-watt smile of his.
(To Be Continued)