Vic was my newest obsession, my quarry. I met him when I went to a local garage to have my car’s air conditioner repaired. The summer got too hot to put it off any longer. July in Alabama is a season of super saturated humidity and boiling hot temperatures. The sky stays white hot and sweat soaks through everything. Vic wasn’t a gorgeous looking stud to make you snap your head around, but he was a very natural and attractive guy. He seemed, at once, as familiar as an old school buddy or a cousin, but with a better than average build. He wasn’t huge and pumped, don’t get me wrong, just about five ten and one sixty ... a medium, with the sloped shoulders and narrow hips of a kid even though he was just a few years younger than me and I was forty. Nice open face, easy smile and a wide mouth that twisted up when he exerted any effort. His hair was a thick and dusty light brown, needed cutting; eyes a faded hazel with long pale lashes. I’m not even sure what made me take a special interest in him, unless it was his plain masculinity, unadorned by any exaggeration. ... That and his thin tan coveralls with his thick meat hanging down his leg, always a plus, or maybe something in his personal warmth, something that invited friendship. He wasn’t desperate. No clinging eyes and forced smile, none of that; but he didn’t put up the abrasive defense like so many guys did. He was a “maybe”, but with a big: “probably not” ... just the type that drove me wild! I hung around the garage and watched him work, asked interested questions but kept out of his way. Business was slow for a Saturday afternoon and he didn’t rush me, he seemed to enjoy a little conversation but I didn’t want to wear out his patience. We talked about the heat, of course, everybody did. And I mentioned I’d just moved in and my apartment’s window AC unit wasn’t doing much to cool me off. He perked up. “I work on any kind of air conditioner, bet I could charge up your unit and make it run like a new one. Guess you’d have to call the apartment manager and get them to pay for it, though, might be a hassle”, he shrugged his shoulders, interested but resigned to being turned down. “No, I’d pay you! The manager would never get around to it until summer’s over. I’m in there sweating every night, be worth it just to get cooled off”, I was a little too enthused, had to tune it down a notch, but he was nodding. “I know what you mean, I don’t even have one. Wouldn’t you know it? I’ve got a trailer and it’s like an oven, soaks up heat all day and I can’t even sleep at night! I’ve been looking around for a used window unit I can fix up cheap, money’s been kinda tight. I’m paying alimony and child support, always looking for the odd job, you know. Where you live? I could come by after work and take a look at it. Since you’re paying out of pocket, I’ll keep it down, I ain’t gonna shaft you or nothing.” “You know the Skylark Apartments? Last building on the left, downstairs on the right. Number 501, want me to write it down?” I patted my pockets for a pen. He laughed, “No, I can remember 501. Like the jeans. I get off at five, I’ll be there by five thirty. Hey, I’m Vic, see my name tag? What do I call you?” “I’m Ben ... and, man! Am I glad I met you! Sure I’m not screwing up any plans? I mean, it’s Saturday night and everything ...?” “Not for me, we get paid every two weeks, this ain’t one of ‘em! I’m in no hurry to get home to that hot-box trailer and my black and white TV”, he grinned, self effacing but cheerful, “Count on it. I’ll be there!” I drove away with a perfectly running blast of chill air and a new, fresh target. I was grinning. Five thirty? That left me two hours! Two hours to plan and get ready for him. Damn, it felt like a prom date! First thing: drop by the market, the video shop, and then I had to get home and cut off the AC. It worked a little, not as bad as I had suggested, so I wanted to let the place heat up and make him feel useful. I grabbed a shower, used the heat as an excuse to wear an old pair of jersey shorts, loose and wide legs. Anything tight or flashy might look queer, I was going for a “just-one-of-the-guys” look. I dried my hair but left it scattered and uncombed, shaved but no scented aftershave, no cologne. Just a regular guy, right? Then I went through a fast fifty jumping jacks, to flush my skin and work up a glow, then a set of free weight lifts to pump my upper body, turned the AC back on. Okay, let the game begin! He was ten minutes early, “Hey, Vic! Come on in, man, if you can stand the heat in here!” “I can do something about that”, he smiled, “Damn, it’s just like going home. Really hot in here! At least I’ve got a big window fan, how you been sleeping in this heat?” His eyes made a fast sweep of my show-off body. “Well, I just get naked and sweat, lots of cold showers, what can I say?”, I followed him to the big window unit, grumbling it’s protest at the heavy load of hot air. “Yeah, me too”, then he was all focus on the machine. He pulled off panels and watched the insides spinning around. “It looks pretty good, compressor’s working, no expensive problems. I’ll top off the freon, tighten the fan belt and clean the cooling coils. That ought to get you running. About thirty bucks, is that okay?”, he looked up at me from his knees, concerned at his price. “You kidding? That’s not half what I thought it would cost! You make that thing pump cool air and I’ll throw in a bonus! I think you’re worth more than that!” “Thanks”, he looked relieved. “I’ll go get my tools, be right back.” I had a couple of cold beers ready when he came back inside, handed him one when he got settled in place and unplugged the AC. I pulled up an ottoman to sit near and watch. “Just what I needed, thanks!” He tipped the bottle up and sighed with a great smile. Then right to work. With the unit off, the room grew hotter by the minute. His coveralls darkened and a big circle spread over his back, sweat dripped off his face. “Shit, I’m burning up. He opened the zipper of his coveralls, down to his waist. “You’re soaked through, must be suffocating in those long sleeves! I’ll get you another beer”, better keep my mouth shut, any suggestion he strip down would sound like a come-on. It had to be natural and easy or it wouldn’t happen. “Be finished in a little bit ...”, he sounded half hearted, wiped at his dripping face. I went around the bar to the kitchen and turned the oven on low, put in the barbecued ribs from the market. When I returned with his fresh beer, he’d peeled out of the top half of his coveralls, the band of his white boxers was visible around his waist where the damp uniform folded back. He grinned, sheepishly, lifted his bare shoulders, “Hope you don’t mind, I was dying!” “Shit! I don’t blame you, Vic. I’d have already pulled ‘em off. Wish I had a fan or something to cool you down.” “This helps”, he took the beer and drained half of it, “But I sure need to take a leak, stuff goes right through me. Where’s your can?” “Through there”, I pointed at the door, “I’m gonna see what’s on TV.” I opened the doors of the entertainment center, clicked on the big screen and sprawled on the sofa, clicked through to a stock car race, kicked up the volume a little. “God, that’s a great set-up, Ben!”, he came out of the bathroom and stopped, stared. I glanced up. His coveralls were open to the crotch and he held them up at the waist. His white boxers glowed in the unzipped vee below his flat belly. I refused to stare, would give him no reason to be self conscious. “It’s my new toy, just got it when I moved in. I’m still in love with it.” “Hell, I don’t blame you! Damn, stereo surround and everything?”, he came over to stand by me. “Yeah, great sound! If I turn it up the neighbors bang on the walls!” We laughed. “What’d you rent?”, he picked up the tapes from the coffee table and read the spines, “Mob Busters, Blood Fist, Swap Party! Wow, you gonna watch ‘em all tonight?” With no hands holding up his uniform, it slipped down around his hips. “Yeah, probably. I’ve got spareribs in the oven, beer in the box and popcorn in the cabinet. Can’t see any reason to go out.” “Jesus, I guess not!” He hitched up his coveralls. “You’re welcome to hang around, plenty of food and beer, it’s no problem.” “Gee, thanks. But, I donno ...”, he left the plan open. I didn’t push. “Well, that’s if you can get this place cooled off. Will it take much longer?” “Huh? No, uh, just got to spray the coils, have it running in a few minutes!”, he assured me. “Is that the ribs I smell? Something sure smells good!” “Yeah, I just put them in to heat up. They’re ready when you are.” “Gimme ten minutes!”, he grinned. When I next looked around at him, his coveralls covered hardly anything! He knelt on his knees and his uniform fell away to the floor. His white shorts were damp and clinging to the curve of his ass, the backs of his thighs showed a pale mat of hair over hard muscles. I had to get a closer look! I moved back to the ottoman, beside him. “What’s that stuff?”, I asked. “It’s a spray cleaner, probably just alcohol and ammonia, I don’t know. But it cuts the grease and dirt off the coils, makes them more efficient”, he told me. It worked; I could watch the stuff cutting through to shiny silver fins of metal. My real interest, though, was the front of his boxers and the unbuttoned fly that showed a glimpse of brown and curly hairs in the shadowed cave. Outstanding! But I was getting a rush of blood to my groin, felt my dick stir and knew I’d better get away from him! As I stood he looked up and quickly dropped his eyes. Shit! My dick had pushed out enough to raise the leg of my shorts. He must have got an eye full of half-hard cock! I sidled past his shoulder, “Better check the ribs, don’t want them to dry out.” I said. “Just got to close it up, it’s ready”, he called. “Don’t rush, I’ll put more sauce on them.” I’d just shoved the pan back into the oven when he plugged in the AC and it came on with a low hum, quieter than before. My hard-on was back under control so I joined Vic at the front of the louvered blower, felt the chilled air rush out in a powerful stream. He was standing but his uniform still lay in a heap around his feet. He grinned wide, hands open and raised. “Better?” “Hell, yeah! I never felt air that cold come out of it! It’s quieter, too! You’re a genius.” “I tightened up the frame, opened up the condensate drains. It ought to work fine the rest of the season! It’ll cool this room off in no time!” I had sixty dollars ready, folded in my hand, “Stick this in your pocket; hard earned for you, well spent for me!” “Hey, no, just thirty ...?”, he was surprised. “I might need you again, want you to remember a good tipper. I’m glad to pay for whatever I get. Now, wash up, I’m starved!” I pushed him toward the bathroom, he shook the coveralls loose from his feet. “Thanks, Ben. I won’t forget this. I can really use the money!”, he let me aim him through the door. “You may as well get in the shower, I’ll find you a dry pair of shorts. Towels on the shelf. But hurry! I’m putting rolls in the oven, right now!” “Okay, okay!”, he laughed, “I guess I could use a little soap and water.” “Lots of soap!”, I called back, laughing, as I shut the door behind him. Give him a sense of privacy, let him know I wouldn’t try and invade his space. I’d already picked out the pale blue silk shorts I wanted to see him wear, they had deep cuts up the legs, a weak elastic waistband and no built in jockey or liner to get in the way of a snug fit in the crotch. “Clean shorts on the door knob! You want a tee shirt? Socks? Anything else?” “Just shorts is okay, thanks”, his muffled reply. Me standing around in just my shorts was like a challenge, it makes a guy feel like he’s being a wimp for covering up too much. I ran through another quick series with the free weights, pumped and plumped. It helped to keep the energy burned off. Then I piled up food on the coffee table, ribs and pasta salad and rolls and fresh beer, paper napkins. Put Mob Busters in the VCR. I sat in the middle of the sofa, piled the cushions all on my left, there was no chair, no choice for Vic but to sit beside me. Well, he was still here, that’s a good omen! He wasn’t scared off by my flash of cock, he didn’t flinch at the porno tape, “Swap Party”. He’d stripped down to drawers with a minimum of suggestion, he accepted the over-payment, he even agreed to stay and hang out a while ... hey, what more could I have asked of him, so far? I figured, at that point, if he stays through the two action flicks to watch the porno, he’s a made man! Heavy food and beer might settle him into a relaxed state, three hours of muscle-man, good-buddy machismo might wear down his resistance to body contact. If he doesn’t run scared at the first three way coupling of the swap movie, then he is relaxed into submission and I fully intend to exploit his gratitude and good nature! The game moves up a level. He came out of the shower with a grin, wet hair and pink skin and the blue silk shorts more translucent than I remembered, “What’s that soap you’ve got in there? It sure smells good, the shampoo, too.” “Sandalwood, you like it? My favorite smell”, I caught myself staring, had to pull my eyes away! “Hell yeah, it’s great stuff! Expensive, I bet. You live pretty damn good, Ben. You a doctor?, lawyer?, what?” “Me? No, I’m a distributor for health foods! Don’t tell anybody about the pork ribs, all right? You could blackmail me with that, not exactly a health food!” “Oh, I get it, that’s why you got all the exercise equipment, the great build. It’s part of the image, huh?” “Who’s gonna buy health food from a guy with a beer belly? You nailed me, image is everything!”, I laughed. “I’m usually proud of my build, but you make me feel like a ninety pound weakling. The weights do that? Give you the chest?” He sat beside me, reached for a rib. His bare leg slid along mine and it was nice. “You’ve got a good build, better than most guys. Go ahead, be proud. A few hours on the free weights and you could pop up some bulk, it’s easy. You’ve already got the tone and the lean frame, just a matter of some coaching and you could have everybody following you around, grabbing your ass.” We laughed. “God, this stuff is good!”, he slurped at a heavily sauced rib, lips red and wet. He licked his fingers with gusto, a personal trait I happen to love! “I might give it a try, I always wanted a knockout body, something to make women notice me. They like it, huh? You get women hitting on you all the time, I bet.” He forked a mouthful of shell macaroni and broccoli in ranch dressing. The creamy white stuck to his lips, pink tongue came out to lick it up. I squirmed. “Would you coach me, let me use your equipment?”, he asked. “Sure, I’d love it. I really get into that stuff, you know? That’s why I’m in the business. Women love it, yeah, everybody loves it. Even your friends at work will see you differently, men give you more respect.” “Yeah?” He liked that. “Bet my ex-wife would sit up and notice, huh?” “She’ll be sorry she ever let you get away, yep!” “Mmm”, he let the conversation lag, focused on the first big fight scene, ate with a glorious relish and enjoyment. It gave me a chance to sneak peeps at his raw beauty. His crotch was a full basket with dark shadows showing through the pale blue. Even leaning forward, his stomach kept its tight profile. Good hands, long fingers with a tender look. His shaggy and wet hair gave him an unpolished innocence, much like a brother sitting at my side. I liked the way his knees splayed apart, the confidence, the trust. Onscreen, bad guys in black rushed the dim bedroom of a handsome older politician, naked in the sheets with a prostitute. Camera’s flashed, screams peeled out, the gentleman kept his body over the girl as the sheets were ripped from them. Nice ass shot of the guy flashes of bare tit as the girl cowered beneath him. Vic paused with a rib halfway to his mouth. So, he liked sex, huh? Did he watch the tits? Of course. He watched the tits! I wanted him straight, just co-operative! I checked the blue crotch, was it larger? “Why are whores in movies always beautiful but the ones on the street are always fat and ugly?”, I tossed out the question. We laughed. “Have you been cruising up town? I’ve seen the line up, pretty gross. But they’re sexy, just knowing why they’re out there is sexy!”, he watched the screen while he talked. “Yeah, I find a decent one every once in a while. They look better around midnight.” “Oh yeah, like the song? You ever do it? Ever hired one?”, he glanced at me. “Sure, haven’t you? Hell, I get horny, I rent some sex. It beats playing love games with somebody looking for marriage and babies!” “Guess so. I never had the money. Well, I probably spent more on a date, right? Then didn’t get laid!” We laughed. “Hookers always look so sexy, though. I’d do it if I had the money.” “We’ll have to party one night”, I told him, “I’ll hire a girl and we’ll fuck all night, the three of us. I’d like to see you get laid by your first pro, you’ll fucking flip out!” “Hmmmp!”, he just laughed. No sideways look, no shock. Just amused, thinks I’m kidding. But he didn’t protest the idea of us all together in bed! The movie went on, we ate, he licked his fingers, our legs rubbed together. Maybe fifteen, twenty minutes later he told me, “When I was in the army, me and this buddy of mine, we both fucked a girl all night. Hell, we was drunk, you know? He married her!” We both burst out laughing, it seemed like a terrific joke. I wondered if he had ever told anyone else. I laughed hard, he grabbed my arm, slapped my back. “The fucker really did it! I couldn’t even go to his wedding, afraid I’d start laughing!” Between the fight scenes and shootouts, it was a boring movie. Most anything would be boring compared to Vic sitting next to me. He cleared the coffee table, moved the dishes to the bar, got us another beer. I liked him waiting on me, very nice! When he sat back down, he leaned back on the sofa arm and propped his feet up, “Want a pillow?”, I offered him one. “Yeah, thanks, Ben.”, he put it behind his neck, settled deeper, sighed. His shorts rode up tight and outlined his cock in a vivid shape. He was thick, circumcised, with a wide flared head, fat veins entwined like snakes around his shaft and his large balls lay prominent on either side of the crotch seam. I couldn’t relax, not staring at that display. I laid another pillow on his lap, covered the disturbing view, used it to prop my arm, hoisted my feet up next to his. “The air conditioner’s working great, Vic. Can’t thank you enough!” “Shit, man. I owe you for the dinner and the beer, the free movies! Don’t be thanking me. Wasn’t for you, I’d be home, alone, in a miserable sweat, eating a TV dinner and watching some stupid sit-com. This is the life! You’ve got it made, Ben. Maybe money don’t buy happiness but it sure smoothes out the rough spots!” “Hey, Vic. With your talents? You’re going to make more money. You have a lot to look forward to. Just going through a bad time, now, don’t mean you’re stuck there.” My hand slipped down over the front of the pillow to rest on his thigh, “You can have any life you want, Vic. You’re smart, good looking, young. You’re way ahead of most guys your age. You can do anything, be anything you want to be. Don’t let the first setback wipe you out, one divorce isn’t the end of everything.” “Nice to hear, Ben. Thanks. I do get kinda down, sometimes. A few words of encouragement come in handy. I feel real lucky to meet up with you, don’t find a good friend all that often. Maybe my luck’s turning.” He put an arm around my shoulders, I leaned in on his chest. It was a rare thing for me, to feel a genuine friendship, a caring about another man beyond the sport of the chase. We watched the movie run through its final scenes. He pulled the pillow out from under my arm in a sudden move, my hand fell right across his plump basket, the heat surprised me. “Sorry”, he said, “but I’m sweating up under that thing”, then he laughed, realized where my hand was located. He slapped it playfully, “Don’t start that stuff, yet, Ben, I gotta take a leak!” And he jumped up to run to the bathroom. I stood and stretched. A joke? Yeah, a joke with an edge, I guess. I was feeling pretty brotherly and friendly. The sexual excitement must have fallen under the heavy food and too much beer. Didn’t seem important to seduce him, I was just enjoying his company and glad I wasn’t alone. I was afraid another movie would put me to sleep, the comfort of Vic’s presence relaxed me. Friendly guys were nice, sex could be purchased anytime. First time in a long time, I thought about how nice it would be to have this kind of company on a permanent basis. Well, that’s a dream, right? It would last about as long as I could act straight and not grab his cock! End of dream. I’m thinking he wont stay through the porno, he may not last through the next kung fu film, he was about as sleepy as me. Damn, no more pasta and pork for a date night dinner! I lined up for “next” at the toilet, leaked out a gallon. He was tossing pillows to the carpet. “What’re you doing?” “Since you don’t have a bed, I guess this thing folds out or something, don’t it? If you want to run me off, better tell me now, otherwise I’m settling in for the night! See? You feed a stray mutt like me and we move right in with you! Is it okay, Ben? You mind if I stay?” “Sure, you can stay! I might fall asleep, anyway, before the next movie’s over. Here, lift up right here, yeah. Let me move the table.” He unfolded the sleeper, put a few pillows in place, lay down and kicked the top sheet down to the foot of the bed. I picked up the Blood Fist tape. “We’re really gonna fall asleep on that one! Why don’t you put the fuck movie in, might keep us awake for a while.” I put it in, cut off the lights and lay down next to him. Ten minutes into the movie and the first sex scene, a man and two women in a three way... four tits at once, straight man’s cream dream, right? Vic got hard. It was too fucking obvious. His legs were crossed at the ankles and his cock set up on top of the tight pressed flesh of his groin. Crowning ace for a straight flush. Pale blue silk stretched near to bursting, warm skin tones showing through the thin fabric, and me staring, inches away, but it wasn’t for me. Four tits jiggled and swayed, four nipples swollen like little Ken doll dicks, and his great massive erection was for them. What did I matter? I was just his good buddy, his bubba, his also-straight pal, right? No need to hide his arousal from me, I would understand. Hell, I should probably laugh and kid him about it. I lost the game. I played well, but he played better. He got too close to me, I lost sight of the goal. I sighed, not a profound and earth shaking sigh, just a small wisp of regret. I lost the game, would never taste his passion, now, because he was no longer a sex object, he was a human I owed for warmth and affection. I owed him for comfort and kindness. Somewhere, sometime during the evening, I’d made a bond of trust with him, entered into a relationship that demanded honor. If I reached my hand just a few inches, I could touch him and he would not resist because he was my friend. That touch, however, would erase all debt. By spending his friendship on a single moment of aroused sensation, I would have nothing left but the memory of how I’d betrayed his trust. Friendship requires of us, requires sacrifice and devotion. I could not even look at his tented shorts without feeling the shame of how I’d manipulated him into this situation... how I’d played at friendship too hard, and crossed over from actor to acting from my heart. I closed my eyes, would not look at his out-of-reach prize. I didn’t doze, but I drifted across many years of accumulated moments when I’d turned my false friendship to advantage, when I had a man’s trust and had his defenses lowered. I couldn’t understand why I’d called that “winning”. How could I have lied to myself so long, so convincingly? I don’t know how long I lay there behind closed eyes and wished for escape from this moment, from this spotlight of self knowledge. Then Vic’s hand was on my shoulder, shaking me, “Ben, Ben? You fall asleep? You’re missing the best part! Look at this!” Another guy had entered the scene, he joined the first one to watch the two women entwined in passionate ecstasy. The two men touched each other, drew together and focused their attentions on each other. The camera zoomed in for close-ups of blunt male hands caressing engorged cocks, whisker stubbled cheeks being kissed by male lips and tongues searching, finding... “See that? You awake, yet?”, Vic’s voice was thick and heavy. He rose up on an arm to see better. “Huh?”, I was confused, why show me this? Wasn’t I shamed enough? “Aw, shit! Go back to sleep, man. I just thought this was the part you wanted to see. Guess I was wrong. You don’t want to admit it, okay, it’s your life. Excuse me, I got to jerk off, this is driving me crazy! You want to watch me? Fine, I’d like that”, he shoved his shorts down, kicked them off, grabbed his thick cock in a fist. I sat up, was I dreaming? “Been waiting all night for you to bust a move, you don’t want to suck me off? Then just watch me jerk it, Ben, watch my geyser blow ‘cause I’m about to shoot any minute! You closet cases kill me, teasing and playing games. Don’t tease with me! If you a man’s man, then do what you made to do, give me some head, get me off! Suck it, Danny! Yeah! That’s right. Jesus, that feels good! Sheeeit Eat me! I been waiting all night for this, faster! I can’t last no more.. oh, no, here it commmes, ... first time always comes quick. God, I love that! Yeah! Oh, Yeah, one more time, ... Yeah! You good, Dan, you real good! Maybe the best ever. Now, come up here. Kiss me, make me hard, again! ... Mmmmm, ... I do taste good, don’t I?” Can’t believe we’ve been together four years, already!
