Tyrone was this older guy, like me, lived a few blocks away. He was semi-retired, drawing a small pension from a steel company that shut down before he reached the age for social security. I’m guessing he was early fifties. Hard to tell because he was slim and healthy. His short cropped hair was still dark except for a dusting of gray at the sides. But he was a grandfather, just like me, so he couldn’t have been much younger than that. I was fifty-two and finally living alone, at last! After my divorce, the kids lived with me. I’d had some little experience with buddy sex when I was a kid, gave it up for married life, but the thoughts never left me. Funny, I always expected I would “outgrow” it. Through the years I served as a single dad, I kept planning for my own little experiment with personal fulfillment. Trouble came when I finally found myself past fatherhood and free, but also found myself locked into repression and denial from years of practice. Fantasy was all I allowed myself, all I ever expected. So, anyway, Tyrone was about my age, self-employed and he roamed the neighborhood for odd jobs to pick up a few bucks. When I had time to get to know him, I found out he didn’t need the money so much as he needed to get out of the house every day! His wife’s mother and her sister lived with them and he was odd man out. When I saw his household I couldn’t believe my eyes. They were all two hundred pounders, loud and excitable. Tyrone was as opposite as he could get, lean and quiet, peaceful and easy going. So, like he said, he left early and went home late. He told me that many times he went home for supper, settled on the couch in the den and slept there all night, took off before any of them got up next morning. He was truly a man living in misery, but you wouldn’t know it from his company. He never complained or even seemed depressed. His smile came slow but fully engaged. When he spoke, his words came out carefully considered and with genuine concern for others. Okay, I admired him, got it? I thought he was cool. He could do most any kind of craftwork, from plumbing to electrical repairs to changing brake pads on a car. He stayed very busy in good weather. Our neighbors were calling around for him constantly with everything from grass cutting to painting the dining room or unstopping the sink drain. Everybody liked him and everybody respected his advice on how to prune the apple tree or how to get rid of ants. He was the handyman at large for Pinedale. There was a rumor whispered around, said he had one of the biggest dicks in the history of mankind. Nobody admitted to any first or even second hand knowledge of who had seen it; it was a kind of cultural legend. The rumor was passed with so much faith I couldn’t help thinking about it whenever I saw him. I wondered if having such a heroic tool gave him that cool serenity. Maybe it was the root of his self-esteem. That’s a joke. You’re right; I’m not noted for elegant humor. I won’t say it became an obsession, but it stayed on my mind. Let’s just say I eroticized the object. I began to grow slowly but firmly hard every time I saw Tyrone. That wasn’t unusual, I wasn’t getting any kind of action so everybody looked pretty hot. I thought about doing something, but I just didn’t know how, anymore. I’d kept every impulse under control so long I wondered if I had any passion left. Tye made me think a lot. Hell, he was married. The guy was straight, no doubt. I’d seen him cut his eyes to the corner to watch a woman walk down the sidewalk. He wasn’t obvious about it, but it was there. I got pretty paranoid, thinking he would mark me off his list of customers if he suspected I was lusting after his body. I made up many a fantasy plan in bed, about how to get him into a compromised position. I could spill gasoline down his pants? Insist he take them off and shower? What a joke. I’d never do anything like that, I’m just a dreamer, face it. Dreams are enough. When I lined him up to come over Saturday afternoon and help me get the freezer up from the cellar, I just looked forward to his company. It was a task I needed help with, nothing else, really. It was a huge chest type freezer, weighed a ton. I never used it and decided to give it to the Salvation Army and clean out the basement. They said their truck would be at my house at five. Tyrone came over at three thirty, he was covered with grass clippings and soaked with sweat. He grinned from the back porch, “Sure you want to smell me? I must be pretty rank by now.” “Come on in, Tye. Want a beer? Looks like you could use one!” I avoided looking at his hard, flat belly and fuzzy chest where his shirt hung open to the waist or the way his blue cotton work pants were clinging to his legs, outlining the heavy swing of his dick. He must be wearing boxers, I thought. He usually wore briefs, not that I ever noticed, right? “I’d love a beer, thanks! My old lady won’t be home tonight so I don’t have to worry about her smelling my breath. She’s a fiend against drinking. I have to sneak around--like a kid to get a beer now and then”, he laughed. “Well, I just opened a case, you feel free. On your own, tonight?” “Yeah, thanks”, he took the beer and drank with avid thirst, “All night singing at the church. She told me to come over later tonight, but I think I might get too tired”, he winked. “If you work me hard, I wont have to lie to her.” We both laughed. Right then, I felt my dick stir. What were my chances of getting him drunk and lowering his inhibitions? No supper waiting at home? Is this my reward for living a good life? I laughed again, after he had stopped. He didn’t seem to notice as he drained the bottle. I handed him another and kept talking. “This thing might be more than we can handle, it’s got to come up the steps”, I opened the door to the basement and led the way down the steep staircase. “We can wait for the truck. The driver will give us a hand. It’s hot down here, no circulation.” Tyrone stopped behind me; I turned to see him looking up at the exposed floor joists and the bracing above the steps. My eyes were just at his crotch level and as he leaned back to look up, his pelvis thrust forward and that long tool was clearly outlined against his sweat-dampened pants. Even soft it looked awesome, thick and heavy. The ridge of the head was clearly defined as circumcised. I realized I was staring. When I glanced up at his face he was grinning at me. “Sorry about that. It was just too damn hot to put on drawers. I’ll have all the women talking about me, again. That’s why I usually wear a jock, you wouldn’t believe the kidding I have to take about it.” I flushed with embarrassment for being caught staring. He didn’t seem upset about it, just amused. “I, uh, I wouldn’t kid you about it.” I tried to keep it light, “Makes me feel pretty damn underprivileged, that’s all!” I kept my eyes on his face, I would never look at it again! “Ah, bud, don’t be snowed by all that talk goes round, just a joke. It ain’t all that big, I’ll show you sometime. But right now, I’m thinking we could put a rope over that beam right there”, he was looking up again and I sneaked another peep. It was even bigger than I thought the first time! “We’ll rig a double pulley and get that monster upstairs before the truck gets here!” I didn’t really see what he meant to do. He set to work without explanation and I learned as I watched. I was so interested that I almost forgot what he said. He’d show me sometime? Was that what he’d said or was I still dreaming? Just a kind of rhetorical gimmick, I guessed, an assurance that his denial was true. I didn’t think for a minute he’d really show me, not literally--just more fuel for dreams! Even with his clever engineering trick, it was still a lift and strain job to get the freezer up the steps. I was soaked before we got half way up and I pulled off my tee shirt to wipe my face. I saw him check me out, very frank about it, not coy at all. Glad I’d spent all those hours on my rowing machine, and all those morning sit-ups. I was streaked and grimed from the basement dirt that clung to every surface. Tye fared no better. Sweat streamed down his face and his clothes looked like you could wring out a gallon of water. His arms were soiled up past the elbows and he even had dirt on his neck where he wiped at the sweat. He stripped off his shirt and tossed it beside mine on the banister. He looked great, in spite of the dirt. We were both a mess but he was determined to get this done. He constantly encouraged me. “No problem, man. We got it beat! A few more pulls and it’s over! Let’s get two steps and rest, two steps and rest, okay?” He was a tank, unstoppable. Four steps from the top, we rested again, “Ah, I can feel the air conditioning from your kitchen. Feels like Heaven! You said plenty of beer?” He grinned thru his sweat, hair plastered to his head. “All you can drink! That’s what sustains me; I keep thinking we get a beer when we reach the kitchen.” “Well, hell! Let’s go, then! Heave-ho!” He kept us both laughing and damn if it wasn’t almost fun to get that stupid freezer up the steps. It’d been a while since I’d laughed and really enjoyed myself. I didn’t know work could be fun. I didn’t know, either, how beautiful a man can be with tough muscles and fine tendons glossed with shine and streaked with dirt. Even his back... “Heave-ho!” “Shit! Time for our reward.” We’d just cleared the basement door enough to close it. “Bring out the beer!” I’d never noticed how his eyes could grab you. As tired as he must be, he still had a well of energy and enthusiasm. His eyes looked right at you, as few people did. When he talked to you, he was really directing words right at you, not to the room at large. I guessed that was part of his charm, not a thing I was used to. I still shied from his direct contact, drew my eyes away from his when he seemed to smile into me. It was a little unnerving, but very nice. Very intimate, I thought. But, then, I was always thinking with my gonads. There lie dangerous waters! I tossed him a towel from the counter top and pulled two cold ones out of the fridge. I propped my butt on a bar stool and he leaned back on the monster we’d tamed. He was only a few inches away in that crowded kitchen and the expanse of naked chest and shoulders were pure eye candy. I could reach out a hand and touch him, if I had the nerve. “What’s this?” I stroked a finger along a pale scar that disappeared below his waistband. I surprised myself. I guess the impulse to touch his skin was too strong to resist. He was hot to the touch and slick with oily sweat. My finger lingered, and then I pulled it away. “Appendectomy scar. Had it pulled out years ago.” He looked down, considering his belly. “It’s a long one...”, he opened his fly with casual ease and let his pants fold down to the hips while he wiped his lower belly with the hand towel. I know I made a noise with a click in it. I shut my mouth too quick. “It still itches sometimes, when a hair tries to grow out sideways.” His lower belly was almost blue white, the most naked looking skin imaginable. His groin hair was a tightly curled nest, golden brown with a few white ones scattered about. He was nonchalant about the display even though the base of his dick was clearly visible at the juncture of the brass zipper. Well, he said he wasn’t wearing underwear. Is this a man thing? This kind of display? I’m not a gym rat or a construction worker; I don’t know how men act when alone together. I always wondered about it, though. “God, that air conditioner feels great, don’t it? Ice cold beer inside and cool air outside, so why am I still sweating?” That piercing glance, again, he laughed. “Drink up! Break’s over. We gonna to get this damn thing out of the house!” He closed his pants. “Lord, Tye. Are you on steroids or what? Gimme a break, huh?” But he was studying my neck with interest. “You’ve got a scar, too. How’d you get this?” He touched me, below my left ear and drew his fingers down my sweating neck, left his hand resting on my bare shoulder. “In a wreck, when I was seventeen. I went through the windshield head first.” “Jeeze!”, he gripped my shoulder, “That’s scary! Too close to your jugular, you were one lucky camper.” The concern in his face and voice were affecting. “Glad to see you made it!” That was a marker of how lonely I was, I guess, because my heart went a little mushy with his gentle affection. I flushed, I’m fair skinned, have a tendency to color up easily. “You really are shy, aren’t you, it’s not just an act.” He spoke gentle, low. “Not the kind of tha-thing I’d fff-fake. I hate it.” Sweat was popping out, fresh. “I kinda like it. Must be a problem, sometimes, but you can relax with me, you know?” His eyes were unbearable. I had that dreadful feeling he could see every thought and motive I ever had. You know that look? From that moment, I knew he knew. It’s a very delicate balance, between men, about who has power and control. Tye wasn’t about to crack the whip, but he knew he could, yessir! I’m terribly uncomfortable with that relationship. I like control and I hate to feel subordinate. It was his eyes, with their intense insistence on holding me, like a set of irons, that made me weak and docile. If you ever had a mugger hold a gun on you, you know the feeling. All will melts into jelly. You know you’ve had it, lost the game. He was caressing my shoulder, smiling into my eyes. His body was an overwhelming force, just inches from mine. His scent of musky odor was the most erotic perfume. I had never dared dream he could be this available, this accessible. I knew I could reach out for him and loose myself in his masculine power. But I couldn’t do it. Some thick masculine hormone pumped through me and wouldn’t let me submit. I couldn’t give in. I lowered my eyes from his probing smile, sidestepped his touch and let his hand slide off my shoulder. “Damn, it’s almost time for the truck. We better get it moving.” He took a half step, almost closed the gap between us. The concerned focus of his eyes never faltered, “Okay, boss. I’m ready whenever you are ... ”, his words hung suspended in the confined space between us. My sweat ran in chill streams. My hands quivered like the weakness that comes after a nightmare. I couldn’t meet his glance, could barely get my breath. His cock pressed outward against the damp cotton pants, a threat to all my comfortable security. He took the empty beer bottle from my hand, left me nothing to grip. “It’ll slide from here, we’re over the hump, easy going now”, his voice calm and soothing. Much less problem getting it down the steps to the sidewalk, Tye put a couple of thick boards down, like a ramp. It slid easy. “Hey, we made better time than I expected! The truck wont be here for another half hour.” I started back toward the house, “Come on, we can wash up, and wait in the air conditioning. I hope they show up on time. Hate to keep you waiting around like this, they can probably get it on the truck all right, maybe a lift gate ...” “I’m in no hurry, they might need a hand. I still got to get the pulleys down, ropes, you know.” He followed, at a little distance. He seemed suddenly tired, quiet. In the kitchen, again, I offered another beer, “Thanks, better not. I get buzzed easy, don’t drink much. Makes a fool of me.” He tossed me a shy grin, “You go ahead, wash up, whatever. I’ll just collect my stuff and stow it back of my trunk.” He eased through the basement door, pulled it quietly closed behind him. I stared at the door. His defeated and worn mood bothered me. I felt a twist of guilt in my belly. Did I ... ? Not like him at all. Maybe I could give him a hand... He was at the bottom of the steps, coiling rope around his hand and elbow, just glanced up and kept at it. I called, “Anything I can do?” Difficult to say how erotic he looked, bare chest and arms streaked with dirt and sweat, the muscles of his shoulders rippling with each round of rope, and his head lowered in a defeated angle, his rejection clearly felt. “It’s okay, I can handle it”, and his face came back to me with a trace of his old smiling confidence. The rope snaked up overhead to the pulley above me. His crowbar lay beside my foot. “I can take this one down...”, I climbed the banister as I’d seen him do, tried to pry loose the nails. “Careful, boss”, I wished he wouldn’t call me that. He came up the steps and grabbed my legs above the knees, to steady me. He dropped the coil of rope to the steps and the neat rings slid in a tangle down the stairs, “Shit!” “Sorry, Tye ... it’s coming loose, I think.” I gave another hard push to the lever and the steel pulley suddenly had no resistance left, it lept from the joist and came at my head! I ducked, caught it’s sharp blow on my shoulder and lost my balance, waved my arms wildly and Tye’s arms caught me, hands sliding over my ass and my hands on his slick chest, clutching for something solid. We went down together in a tumble of limbs, came to rest with him sitting, me scattered down his body and my face pressed into his lap, nose full of his scent and his soft cock beneath my cheek. He was laughing; I gasped a big gulp of relief and joined him. Nothing broken, just my pride bruised. I clutched his firm thighs and raised my head. “Wait”, he pressed my head back down, “Tt hit your shoulder, let me see.” I dropped my head to relax against him. “It don’t hurt, can’t be too bad”, my voice was muffled by his pants at my lips. I felt the mound of his flesh firm and swell. A heated flush rippled through me. “Lay still, you’re bleeding. I got a handkerchief in my back pocket ...”, he raised his hips as he reached beneath his butt. The mound became a ridge of flesh, my face caressed it, absorbed the moist heat through his thin pants. The cloth stung when he lay it on the cut, pressed gently. I squirmed, grunted. His cock grew rigid, alive. He laughed, “Lay still!” I raised my face, laughing, too, “Sure, lay still while you play doctor?” “I just saved your life, you owe me!” But he relented his hold, helped me to sit up beside him, put his arm around me to hold the makeshift bandage in place. Smiled that same ol’ teasing smile and probed with his acute eyes, “Sorry. I’m horny as hell. I grab all the gusto I can find!” This time, I held his gaze, even when I blushed and would have broke away. I leaned against him, lay my hand where my face had been, felt his hot need. His face came closer, his breath warmed my cheek, eyes half lidded ... mouth near mine ... “Beep, Beep, Beep!” The truck had arrived. The two young guys on the truck looked like hard timers, a short black dude with the upper body development of a weight trainer rode shotgun, his yellow sweat pants hugged hard, narrow hips. He jumped down from the truck and came over with a wide, friendly smile that showed off the gaps in his teeth. We shook his tight gripped hand and the driver came around back. “Uncle Tyrone?” Tye looked up and laughed, “Pete! How the hell you been?” They grabbed in a big hug, and pounded each other’s backs. Pete was taller, but thin as a rail. He had pale, Nordic coloring, short buzzed hair and a broken nose. A silver earring dangled from one ear. I felt a stab of jealousy. The guy was younger than me--hard bodied and good looking in a wild dog way. Tye turned to me, “This is Pete, my wife’s nephew. He used to stay with us when his old man kicked him out.” Pete shook my hand, an interested smile on his face. “I grew up wishing Tye was my daddy, always thought the world of him.” “I can see why, he’s a good man... good friend to me.” “Hadn’t heard from you in a long time, when did you get out?” Tye asked. “Just a week or so, I’m on this work release program. Lock me up every night, but I get out to go to work, you know”, Pete ducked his head. “Thirty days of good reports and I get full parole, fuck up and I go back inside.” “Don’t worry, I keeps him straight!” Shorty grinned, “I got him on a tight leash! He doing all right!” “How’s Aunt Margie?” I stepped back and leaned on the freezer. A group of men always made me feel an outsider, since I was a kid. One man and I could manage to keep the nervousness controlled, but around two or three? They had this way of relating, an easy link I couldn’t ever tap into. Tye seemed a thousand miles away, the intimacy of a few minutes ago blown away like a foggy dream. I was back to watching my brothers and my dad and their friends, a watcher from the edge. I matched their laughter, faked a communion I never felt. Tye eased around, leaned back beside me and winked. “How’s the shoulder?” It surprised me, I’d forgotten. “Fine, no problem.” “You boys missed the fun. We brought this monster up from the basement. Thought it was going to kill us, too! Couple of old men like us, it was a hell of a battle.” Amazing how he drew me back in. He was more sensitive than I’d imagined.I warmed with a deep gratitude just because he understood a private part of me I never thought to share. “Shit, Unc, I figured you just whipped it up the steps with your belt.” Pete grinned at him, a secret, teasing grin. “Strapping you never did no good, I clean give it up!” Tye’s eyes leveled at the boy. “I don’t know, just think how mean I’d have been without it. Maybe you didn’t beat me enough! Hell, you tried. I’m still grateful for that. Nobody else ever cared.” They hugged, again. I felt a lump thicken in my throat. “Okay, okay! Pete! We gotta move, man. Sorry to break up the reunion, Mr Tyrone, Pete done told me a lot about you. We roomies. But the clock ticking, we gotta git!” “Hope you didn’t believe all his lies!” Tye looked bemused. Shorty just laughed, slapped Pete’s back. Their truck had a lift gate, thank god. We got the freezer on, Tye and Pete held it in place while Shorty raised it up slow. I was beside Shorty when Tye turned, his crotch right in our face. Yeah, it was making a pretty big show. Shorty did a quick job of concealing his shock, but I saw his eyes focus on the incredible length. He looked at me and I grinned, amused by the stunned look. “Godamighty!” His thick lips just mouthed the exclamation but I read it clear, laughed. When the other guys pushed the freezer back into the van, Shorty spoke softly to me. “Pete told me but I never thought .., damn! How long is it?” “I donno’, I’ve never seen it.” I resisted the impulse to act defensive about such a rude question. “Come on, I thought you guys was tight!” He almost begged, “He wont show you? Hell, I’d be peeping in on his shower!” We laughed. “I might try that.” “Get a poloroid, I’ll buy a pitcher of that!” We laughed more, Shorty telling me. “sssh, ssh, don’t tell him!”, and I felt a kinship, that male link that had eluded me for years. They climbed down from the truck, we joined them. Pete looked back at me with that same probing look Tye was so good at, “Good to meet you, dude. You take care of this guy, but don’t believe all the lies he’s gonna tell about me, either.” With a hurried rush from Shorty, they agreed to stop by again, or visit when they got on probation, jumped in the truck and lurched off down the street. “They were fun, hope they do come visit.” I told him. We walked back to the house. “Oh, they will! Pete liked you, had a thousand questions.” He grinned, “Don’t worry, I lied.” We laughed and squeezed into the small bathroom together, scrubbing at hands and arms, ridding ourselves of the grimy mess. “This ain’t cutting it, you mind if I grab a shower?” “Sure, I mean, no, uh ”, I stuttered, “You know you’re welcome to...” “And if you don’t invite me to stay for supper I’m libel to invite myself. Wanna call for a pizza? Haven’t had one in a while, goes great with a beer!” He began unlacing his shoes. “Yeah, sounds great! I was hoping you’d stay, not run off.” “Shit! You’ll be trying to run me off ‘fore long!”, he peeled off his socks, I was kind of just standing there. You know what a trance feels like? Had to shake myself loose. “I’ll find you some clothes, something to put on.”, I backed out, breathing hard. “Not too much, something cool.” He called. We were about the same size, no problem. I pulled out two sets of drawers, tee shirts, two pairs of Bermuda shorts. I liked the idea of Tye wearing my clothes, it felt close and friendly. Warm and fuzzy? I laughed to myself. I thought about Shorty’s suggestion, imagined peeking in on his shower. I didn’t think he’d be surprised. He must feel he has me completely in hand, by now. Probably expects me to come wash his back and worship at his naked body. Gee, that doesn’t sound too bad! Am I talking to myself? Right, and then he thinks you’re a slut, a pushover pansy. He shoots a nut and rushes out the door with a promise to call but never will. Who am I kidding? I’ve held up the barricade this long, better the devil I know than taking that chance. Play it safe, that’s me. I’m pretty sure I can keep him around as a friend, no way I’m gonna keep him as a lover, that’s too much to hope for. I really want to keep him, too. Don’t think I’ve ever met a man I like better. I know I’ve never met a man who makes me feel so good about myself, that’s the miracle he works, he makes me feel so comfortable! “Where’d you go? Get lost?”, he called. The shower had stopped. “Here you are, either pair of shorts, doesn’t matter”, I put the folded pile on the commode lid. His head was under a towel, scrubbing his hair dry. I refused to look down there! Forget it! “Time for the news, I’m going to turn it on, okay? You ready for a beer?” I backed out of the steamy space, back into the hall. “You’re reading my mind?” He came out from under the towel with a big smile. He caught me like a hooked fish, his skin had a blush of pink from the hot shower, little droplets sparkled here and there. His body was no sleek young man, more like an experienced warrior, a chieftain. The pale whiteness of his groin glowed with magnetic attraction; his dick hung thick and full, hardly a wrinkle as it continued to swell. His pride beamed from the wide smile. “Told you I’d show you. Not too scary, is it? Thing is, it don’t get much longer when it gets hard, just looks big when it’s soft. Don’t tell nobody, ruin my reputation!”, he laughed. “... safe with me”, it was almost a whisper. His smile faded. The weakness in my legs shook me, I had to move away. “I’ll get you a beer”, ducked my face and managed to break loose. Shit, shit, shit, what does he expect from me? He think I’m going to fall on my knees and grovel? Think I’ll belly down and bend over? He knows everything else, why can’t he see how difficult this is for me? Shit. Blame him, yeah. I don’t know what the fuck I want, how’s he supposed to know? I’m grabbing the beer, and still screaming inside ... flipping on the TV and cursing myself. Ingrown, ignorant, ball-less, snail... He came into the den in just the white boxers, stopped in the door and gave me one of his, I-feel-rejected, looks. I was learning to recognize it. “Here’s your beer, you earned it. Thanks for the floorshow! It’s still humungus, and hell yeah, it’s scary!” I smiled, felt the tension seep out. His grin came up like sunrise, “I was afraid you’d call the cops, scream rape.” “You kidding? Shy as I am? If I ever get raped, I’ll never admit it to anyone.” “That’s dangerous information to be giving me, you know damn well how horny I am.”, his voice dropped low, “Sounds like an invitation.”, he leaned on the doorframe, grinned with a wink. “Tye, listen ...,” I tensed up all over again. “I was teasing. Didn’t mean that like it sounded.” I tried to pass him in the doorway, he didn’t give me much room. “I know, you good at that, teasing.” The edge of threat crept into his voice, just a tightening, anger at the ready. When I squeezed past, his hips shoved out and I felt his cock slide over my ass. I caught my breath, kept moving. This isn’t it, not the way ... oh shit, what did I say? I crossed the hall, glanced back from the bathroom door. He watched me with a darkened scowl, turned up the bottle and drained half of it while his other hand massaged that monster in his shorts. I closed the door, snapped the lock with a loud click. The hot water felt good, the dirt washed away in a flood, spiraling down the drain. I couldn’t think, didn’t know what to feel. Just wash it away. Wash away the fear, too. Go out there clean and fresh and make it work right. Just friends, I’ll tell him, let’s just be friends. The sex ain’t never gonna work ... I’m too screwed up, too... I thought I heard a tap at the door, rinsed my face, listened. Again, a gentle tap, tap. “Could you toss out my clothes? Buddy? hey...”, tap, tap. I cut off the water. “Hear me? Just hand me my shoes and pants, I’ll get out of here. Don’t know what’s wrong with me. Blame it on the beer, okay? My pants? Boss? you all right?” I held the towel in front of me, opened the door. His eyes came straight to mine, I dropped the towel, my dick wasn’t as big as his but it was hot and rigid sticking out like a ship’s prow. He grabbed it, yanked me to him and bruised my mouth with an angry passion. His fist squeezed my cock in a vice grip, I shoved down on his drawers. My body was pumping with need for that monster’s touch! He was brutal, kicking off the drawers, grabbing my arm. He dragged me toward the bedroom, stopped at the door to crush me, rake my lips, again, with his teeth, plunge his tongue deep in me. Yes, I wanted it so bad ... He pulled me onto the bed, covered me with his weight and licked the scar running down my neck. His fingers found my hair, grasped great hands full and pulled my face to his. All the old fear scattered before his passion, I reached down to touch that monstrous cock, hold it. He was plowing it into my pelvis, scrubbing it across my cock and grinding me down. He dug under my knees, shoved them back on my chest. I couldn’t do this! I wasn’t doing it, he was doing it. He moved just a beat faster than my brain. Before I could draw a line, he had me across it, before I could murmur “no”, it was drowned out with a growled, “Yes!” My most hidden fears, my deepest secrets all flew away in the hot wind of his need. I didn’t know a man could feel like this, didn’t know the blood could race through my heart with such tidal force, didn’t know my body could be electric. I didn’t know. I’d only dreamed of secret pleasure, I’d not before known passion in my life. Within short minutes it waned, as he melted on top of me, took me down with him into that slow motion, near-death experience of struggled breathing and gasping lungs. Oxygen was not enough; I’d die if my heart slowed more. Pulse beats came long seconds apart and my heart hurt for all the life I’d wasted, the years I’d packed away my manhood in cotton and dust. My limbs lay heavy, ruined muscles would not answer impulse... chest would not lift to let in the air. “Mmmmm. Sorry, you can’t breath, can you?” He slid off my chest and curled into my shoulder. Pulled my arm up and around him, held my hand beneath his chin. “Tye... is it always like this? Is it always like surviving a hurricane?”, my voice came in whispers, like a cricket in the dark. “Mm, hu mmm?” He chuckled, and then he laughed. His body shook next to mine. He slid a hand across my chest. When he could control his breathing again, he growled, “Like this? Hell, it gets lots better than this! We was just getting through the introduction, we ain’t even danced, yet!” Then he stilled, lay quiet. His laughter faded. His fingers circled my right nipple and little tingles ran down the inner core of my belly, touched my balls with a buzz... “Ain’t been like this for me in years, boss man. I didn’t think I’d ever feel this good again. I feel like I’ve come home. Sorry if I sort of blowed you away, I lost control back there. Didn’t know what I was doing...” “Now I know, Tye... I’ve wondered so long, I waited so long... too long, I guess, but you were worth waiting for.” I raised up to look at him, without shame or doubt or fear... he was so beautiful, so wonderful... He grinned up at me. “Don’t get impatient, you might have to wait a while before I can go again ...few minutes, anyway. I’m an old man.” “Don’t hurry. I like this part. Just be still...” It was an hour before we tired of touching, holding and saying silly stuff. Then we danced and we danced. Jackertoo@aol.com
