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.
The author retains all rights to this story. Reproductions or links to other sites are not allowed without the permission of the author.
Two Lives - Two Loves
Chapter 4
I opened the French doors out to the balcony and set the doorstops to hold them open. The view was wonderful and I could see why Jon's uncle liked to greet guests this way. It did have a wonderfully theatrical feel to it.
The sky was a deep blue and cloudless and there was a gentle breeze blowing past me and into the bedroom. Jon joined me out on the balcony and slid his arms slowly around my waist. This scene could not have been any more perfect.
"Gorgeous day, huh?" he said.
I turned to face him and pulled him in closer, "Not as gorgeous as you," I said, giving him a peck on the mouth. I was really surprised when he pulled away quickly.
"Brad, someone's gonna see us standing out here like this," he said with a touch of alarm in his voice.
"Jon, look around," I said with a sweep of my finger. "You can't see the road from here and you can't see the neighbors from here, either. Oh, there may be some Russian spy satellite with a bead on us," I said with a dose of sarcasm, "but, hey, who are they gonna tell?" Jon just kind of grunted. He was a still little tense about it and was being his sometimes Mr. Shy-Guy self, so I began to slowly massage his neck and shoulders.
"Relax," I drawled, gradually pulling him into a hug, then putting my nose down next to his, whispering, "C'mere." He lifted his face towards mine and his gorgeous blue eyes closed as our mouths met and our tongues slowly probed. Our arms tightened, each of us pulling the other in until we could pull no more. I felt Jon's aura lightening, his tension dissipating, his excitement quickly growing and I could tell, from the way that he ever so slightly shifted his weight, that he felt my excitement, too.
"You are so fucking gorgeous," I muttered gutturally, pulling away only long enough to say so before forcing my mouth back onto his.
I loved the feel of his body, almost as much as I loved the feel of his hands over my own. He was totally unlike previous guys I'd done it with. Jon was a truly gentle soul despite the fact that he could sometimes, rarely though, mind you, put on that typical asshole jock fa‡ade, but that's all it was. A fa‡ade. I truly loved being with him and it almost felt like we were one person. And then, finally, it was time for us to become almost as one person and I began to pull the tail of my shirt from his jeans.
He backed away enough to allow me to pull it off of him the rest of the way. And, surprised, he laughed when I tossed it over the balcony where it landed in the bushes below. Jon returned the favor and pulled his jersey from me, tossing it over the side where it landed near mine. We both laughed and fumbled around as we kicked off our shoes and began to unbuckle each other, not caring if anyone could see. I stripped off my jeans and underwear in the same motion and Jon followed suit. For a moment, we stood there with mutual appreciation on that sun drenched balcony, our toned bodies pointedly aching for one another. I hugged Jon again and felt him trembling slightly, certainly not from being cold but from nervousness. I knew the feeling; I'd been there.
"C'mon," I said, nodding my head towards his uncle's huge bed. "Let's get you warmed up," I said with a seductive grin.
Jon lay down on the bed and burrowed his head and shoulders into the cool of the goose down pillows. He watched, grinning, as I rolled a condom down over my length and climbed into bed with him. He spread his legs and pulled them up to give me a better position. I spread some of the lube slowly around and into him; he seemed really tight. Putting the lube back on the nightstand, I told him, "This might be a little painful at first," I warned. "Let me know if it is and I'll go slower."
"I know you won't hurt me," Jon said, smiling again, his voice quivering just a little.
I pulled his knees up close to my side. I could not take my eyes off of his as I slowly began to ease myself through his opening. It was a little difficult at first and I pulled back when I saw Jon wince.
"No, go ahead," he said.
He winced again as I began to finally push past his opening but his eyes closed and his expression changed to one of pure satisfaction as I slowly eased my body into his. I was happy to see him begin to relax. Damn, he was tight. I held my position for a few moments, savoring the wonderful sensation of our joining. I leaned down into him and cradled him, resting on my elbows as he arched his back more to follow me. I could feel his ankles wrap around the back of my thighs as I began a slow, rhythmic pulsing, driving Jon crazy as I massaged his prostate.
"Feel good?" I whispered.
"Oh, yeah," he droned.
The cool afternoon breeze felt too wonderful and cooled us a little as we sweated. Neither of us spoke. We didn't have to. Each of us knew how the other felt. Only our occasional moans and the squeaking of the bed broke the absolute stillness of the room. Jon lightly, slowly massaged my arms and shoulders as my sweat dripped on his face. He ran his palm over my forehead and used the sweat to help lube his masturbating. I was getting close; I knew we both were. I could feel the tension welling up in me and I began to feel Jon press a little harder upwards. His grunts were getting shallower and more frequent. My thrusting became more insistent until I began to feel the familiar tension creep over me. "I'm cumming," I breathlessly told Jon. "Do it, baby, do it," I thought I heard him whisper feverishly. Finally, instinctively, I pushed myself as far into Jon's superb body as I could and grabbed him tightly as an almost electrical warmth surged over me in waves as I filled my best friend to the sharp, almost barking grunts of my own unearthly satisfaction.
Moments...
Moments...
Time did not exist at that moment...
...that exquisite moment.
I rested briefly, catching my breath. I knew he had not yet cum and I began pumping Jon again with my semierection until I heard him getting close, his body tensing as I felt his arms gather me in, almost to the point of crushing me, as he emptied himself between us, softly moaning with each pulse. I waited for a moment, just relishing the feel of his heaving chest, listening to his panting. Sliding along his hot essence, I pulled myself up, slipping out of him. We relaxed and began to stretch out as I cupped the back of his head in my hand and pulled his mouth to mine, each meeting the other tenderly at first and then with wonderfully unrestrained passion. Our arms fondled aggressively; our legs intertwined and I loved the feel of his calves pressing hard against my own. To my mind, this was truly heaven on Earth and I could not have wished for a better way to have a first time with Jon.
"How was I," he finally whispered.
"You were outstanding," I told him. "How did you like it?" I asked.
"Put on another condom," came his quick reply, accompanied by that dazzling smile.
The noonday sun faded gradually to the very late afternoon. Now low in the sky, it shone its rays through the French doors and across Jon's face and hair, truly giving him an etheric glow as he napped. Waking from my own catnap, I picked up my watch from the nightstand, squinting against the light streaming into the room: 6:05. "Wow," I thought. "Been at it longer than I thought." I looked over at Jon and smiled. The strong contrast created by the sunlight accentuated every ridge and valley of his body. "Welcome to your new world, baby," I thought.
The loud gurgling of my stomach quickly broke my fixation and I realized that we hadn't eaten anything since that morning. I was starving again. "Jon," I whispered, lightly running my fingertips over his washboard. "Jon, wake up," I said, a bit louder this time. He began to stir.
"waaa...," came a low mumbled reply.
"I'm starved; let's go eat," I said, shaking his shoulder.
"mmmm...," he mumbled again. Heavy sleeper, this guy. I could've dropped a bomb next to the bed and he wouldn't have woken up.
"Let's GO!" I said more insistently, shaking him by the shoulder.
"All right!" he started. "I'm up, I'm up!" he said before easing into a slow luxurious post-nap stretch, ending it with a loud yawn that I was sure rattled the windows downstairs. "What time is it?" he asked finally.
"'bout ten after six," I said as his stomach started gurgling too.
"Yeah, I'm hungry, too," he said. "Let's go out. I don't feel like cooking. What're we gonna wear, though?" he asked with that impish way of his, "We threw our clothes out the window."
"I'm sure you brought more," I said. I saw I was going to be playing straight man a lot for Jon's quirky sense of humor. I went to get dressed.
It never seemed to take me more than 15 or 20 minutes to get ready to go somewhere. A quick brush of the hair, slap on some aftershave, dive into my clothes and that was it. Jon was a different story, I was finding. He spent more time in the bathroom than any man, straight or gay, that I knew. His bathroom door was slightly ajar and I heard him puttering around in there doing God only knew what. Not knowing how long he was going to be, I sat down and drummed my fingers against the arm of the chair.
"Quit lookin' at yourself and let's GO!" I called to him. "Trust me, you're gorgeous!"
I was stunned when I heard his voice, "Thanks, so are you. What're you doing? I've been waiting downstairs," come from the other side from where I sat.
I stared at Jon, half peeking around the corner of the hallway door, for a moment in disbelief, my head then snapping around to look at the bathroom door. It was half open, the room dark. I jumped out of the chair and pushed the door open looking around. Nothing. I could feel the little hairs on the back of my neck start to rise. "Oh, God, that's creepy," I said.
"What?" Jon asked, puzzled. "Did you see something?" he said as he came to inspect the bathroom himself.
"I could have sworn you were in there," I said, still in a state of disbelief.
"Hmmmmm," Jon started, "Maybe the ghost has taken a liking to you," he said as his fingers crawled up my back in Tarantula fashion.
"Cut it out!" I yelled, twisting and knocking his arm away. "I'm already creeped out enough for one day, thank you very much!"
"Sounds like a good dinner conversation to me," he said, "but we need to find dinner first...and beer, definitely beer!"
"I need a few, that's for sure."
As we were heading out, Jon said, "When we get back, you wanna move our stuff into my uncle's room?"
"Absolutely"
It took us awhile to find the right place to eat. That's not to say we were particularly picky, we just wanted to find a place that would serve us beer without too many questions. It was a royal pain being underage. I wouldn't be 21 until November and Jon was still a month away from turning 20.
The first place we tried was a kind of seedy looking barbecue place that had the look of a place where people minded their own business. Big mistake. It was really the kind of place where everyone turned around and stared at you when you came through the door. Teeth seemed to be in very short supply in this joint. It was most definitely not the kind of place where a couple of clean-cut, fresh-faced, freshly laid gay guys, albeit very straight acting, would be welcome. We did not let the doorknob hit us in the ass.
We were luckier with the second place we tried. It was one of those older chain burger joints with the catchy names...Steak and Suds, Beef and Bird, something like that. You've seen every one of them: dark Tudor-ish d‚cor, cheap fixtures, wooden floor covered with peanut shells, burgers, chops and, most important, beer. "Please, dear God, don't let them card us," I chanted under my breath.
The hostess sat us in one of the side booths, which was great, gave us some privacy to talk. The waiter came around with the menus, introduced himself, Ron-and-I'll-be-your- waiter, and asked what we wanted to drink. I asked what he had on draught...implied age. He spouted off the list and I selected the Killian's. Jon made that two. Ron, a youngish guy, looked at us for a quick second and then just walked off with a slight smile. I couldn't tell exactly, due to my current distraction, but I thought he might be a friend giving a couple of other friends a break. We were very thirsty, very hungry and very thankful that he wasn't too inquisitive.
We were studying the menus when he came back with two large, frosted mugs and a basket of peanuts.
"Oh, God, thanks," I said to him as he set the beer down. "It's been a long day."
We ordered the potato skins to begin with and then a couple of bleu cheese bacon cheeseburgers. "Great," he said, "I'll get that right in." As he walked back towards the kitchen, he stopped to check on one of the other tables. Jon and I both noticed the great ass.
"Mmm," Jon grunted quietly.
"Runner, I'll bet," I observed, "Long legs."
Ron the Runner Guy disappeared back in the kitchen and we started in on the beer. We clinked our mugs and I toasted Jon to our future happiness. We quickly downed about half of our mugs and a slight buzz set in right away. It felt really, really good.
"Oh, I needed that," I said, setting the glass down.
"So what's up with that deal back at the house?" Jon asked.
I told Jon about my two experiences, about when I was in the bathroom that morning and thought I heard someone come in and the one just earlier when I thought he was in the bathroom when he was really downstairs. I thought it was a little unsettling. Jon listened attentively as I recounted the details.
"Well," he began, searching for the words, "Brad, it could be just your imagination, you know."
"Maybe."
"But on the other hand...I think... you're a helluva lot more sensitive to this kind of thing than most people...more than you want to admit to yourself even."
I just stared at him and nodded, clenching my beer and taking another long draw. You might not think it to look at him but Jon could get very thoughtful and sympathetic when the topic became deep. I generally learned to listen to him no matter how ridiculous it might seem at first.
"Take for instance that canoe trip we were all going on last spring. You said it would be a waste of time and tried to convince the rest of us. And then the guys who did go came back looking like drowned rats after that huge thunderstorm came up out of nowhere."
"Yeah, I remember," I said with a wry smile.
Jon started to laugh, "Boy, was Franklin..." He was our Social Chairman at the time, "...ever pissed!" We both started laughing.
"Yeah, I think he was madder at me for being right than at the weather. Geez, he didn't talk to me for nearly three days..." I cackled. "...that asshole!"
"Then there was that time when you told Kreuger to take a different way when he was going out to do grocery shopping and he got into that nasty little fender bender."
"Yeah," I said quietly.
"I guess what I'm saying is that you've got to deal with the possibility that you might really be psychic," Jon said, and then in that mimicking elderly voice he sometimes did, "...or what we old peoples calls da Sight!" He said, winking.
"How we doin', guys?" came Ron's chirpy voice.
"Great," Jon chirped back. "We're telling ghost stories, wanna join us?"
"Ghost stories?" asked Ron, puzzled.
"We are not," I droned. I'd found that after a beer or two, Jon would come out of his shell a little more...sometimes a lot more. When he did, he had the greatest knack for just spontaneously drawing complete strangers into a conversation using the most inane derivation of whatever we were talking about at the time. Ninety-nine percent of the time people joined in and, to tell the truth, it was an invaluable asset to have in our corner when we were rushing for pledges. Sometimes, however, it could really get under my skin and I think he did it just to see my reaction.
Ron set down the potato skins and a couple of fresh beers, "You looked like you could use some fresh ones," he said. "So what's up? I love a good ghost story."
I was inclined to be a bit more reserved about it but Jon just opened right up and told Ron everything to that point. Well, not everything, just about how we were house sitting for his uncle that summer and how I was thinking I was hearing things and a little bit of what he knew about the house. Ron listened intently; I could tell he was definitely interested in Jon's story.
"Wow, that's pretty cool," he said after Jon had finished his monologue. "Can I ask, is this that huge old place up off of Route 32? The one you can barely see from the road?"
"That's the one," Jon confirmed.
"Oh, wow," Ron exclaimed. "I've got a friend who's really into that sort of thing. She's psychic and she's always been curious about that house."
"You wanna come see it?" Jon offered.
"Great," I thought, let's get the news cams out there while we're at it. I could hear the teaser now: "Gay Ghosthunters...Film at 11." It might be fun but I was still a little hesitant.
"You don't mind?"
"No, bring your friend, too. We could get her take on it...maybe have some fun," Jon said.
"Excellent," Ron said. "Work on those skins and let me go check up on your burgers."
I bit off a chunk of potato skin; the cheese almost seared the top of my mouth. A bit frantic, I put out the fire with what was left of my first beer before I said, "You sure you want to do this? Next thing you know it'll be all over town and we'll never get any privacy."
"Oh, it will not," Jon said with a wave of his hand as he bit into his potato. "We'll have some fun with it, that's all. It's not like they're gonna bring the whole town with them. Besides, it's nice to have a friend or two in the area, you know?"
"You just want to see what Ron's butt looks like in the daylight," I grinned.
"Oh...yeah...like you don't," he replied.
Ron came back with a couple more mugs, as we were getting low again, "These two are on me," he said. We thanked him profusely and he said that he'd just been able to get ahold of his friend who was very interested in seeing Jon's place. We bandied about some days and decided that the following Saturday worked out best for everyone. Jon and I were flexible for the next two weeks, Ron had that day off and his friend didn't have to work. So we decided to get together around elevenish and then do lunch. We exchanged phone numbers when Ron came back with the food in case anything came up.
After we ate, we chatted with Ron a little more and I was starting to get excited about getting together. I was the one who usually went in for this sort of thing so I was a little surprised that Jon had prompted all of this. His enthusiasm was contagious and by the time we left, he had us both pumped up.
Back at the house, we moved all our stuff into the Master Bedroom. We hung out in the den and surfed around the cable for a while. Nothing on. Two million channels and nothing on, so we bagged it and went to bed.
We didn't get to sleep for quite some time, however.
(To Be Continued)
I wanted to take this opportunity to thank those people who have written with their kind thoughts for the story thus far. This story is the first this author has posted anywhere and, since new waters are always a bit intimidating, their words of encouragement have been very much appreciated. Many thanks, again...Michael.