Back To Your Nap Buddy

I was spent. But, Wardo had obviously enjoyed what had happened, I could feel his hard dick against my stomach.

I raised up, spit in my hand, and smeared as much of it as I could on his dick. Before he knew what I was doing, I moved over him and pressed myself down on him. I had been fucked a lot since Paris, so his entry was much easier and far more pleasurable. With one smooth glide, he was buried in me. I clenched his dick with my ass muscles as I rocked back and forth on it. I put my hands on his chest, both for leverage and because I loved the feel of his muscles.

I got hard as I rocked back and forth. I took my dick in my hand. Doing so, I lost some of my rhythm and leverage. To my surprise, Wardo said "let me do that" and took over. I put my hand back on his chest and matched my pace to his as he jacked me. We were staring into each other's eyes as our pace and breath quickened. We were in perfect rhythm, and I knew we were going to come together. It was not long before we did. I felt Wardo's dick expand in my ass as I shot an arc of cum over him and onto the headboard. Wardo grunted and raised his head as he came. My second shot hit him in the face, and the rest landed on his chest and stomach. I was exhausted as I lay on him, mixing my sweat and cum, catching my breath. He clamped his arms around me and held me and we just laid there, soaking each other in.

He broke the spell. "I need to clean my face."

I raised up and looked at him. My second shot was thinning and running down his cheek. Instinctively, I lowered my face and licked it off of him. He started to laugh.

"Why are you laughing?" I asked, my head still next to his.

"I was thinking 'I think I just got my cherry popped' and Neil Diamond's 'Cherry Cherry' popped into my head, and it all just struck me as surreal and laughable. I mean, I just let a guy fuck me, for Chrissake."

"Not a guy," I said. "Your nap buddy." Then I started laughing, too.

"Why are you laughing?" he asked, hitting the "you."

"Because, I just took your cherry, and you're thinking of Neil Diamond, and it is surreal and laughable. You just let me fuck you."

Part Six

As we waited for our flights in the airport (I was headed to Chicago and Wardo was headed to Indy), we shared a drink. We were at a small table, and I pressed my leg to his. He pressed back and smiled. When it was time to go to our gates, we embraced.

"If I don't see you before, I'll see you at the wedding," I said.

"Let's try to get together before that," he said. "Just you and me, two nap buddies having one last weekend together as bachelors."

"Sounds great," I said. "How about this weekend? I can drive down or you can drive up."

"I'll drive up," Wardo offered.

Wardo rolled into Wrigleyville about 8 p.m. on Friday night. After we stowed his bag in my second bedroom, we headed out for dinner and drinks. We ate at a local joint, then headed to my favorite neighborhood bar. We bought a bottle of vodka and filled our own glasses while we watched the Cubs and Pirates spar and talked.

"So, are you excited for the wedding?" I asked.

"I guess. I think I'm more excited for it to be over. It's a lot of cost, effort, and time for a single day."

"I've never understood that."

"Me, either. But, Jenny's been dreaming of this day for years."

Changing the subject, I asked "What do you want to do this weekend?"

"Anything you want," he said. "I'm here to see you, not Chicago."

I wondered if his answer was loaded. I am not a naturally patient person, but I decided that patience was a virtue at that point.

After another vodka, Wardo asked me about my personal life. He wanted to know if I was dating anyone (I wasn't) and if I had ever seriously dated anyone (I had). He also wanted to know about when I "turned gay."

"You're such a rube," I said, a little disappointed. "I didn't 'turn gay,' Dipshit. I was born gay. No one would 'turn gay.' It's not fun being different from most everyone else, especially when you grow up Catholic and are told over and over that what you are is against God's will and will lead to eternal damnation."

"Were you gay in high school?"

"Yes, Dipshit. As I just indicated, I was born gay. So, I had to be gay in high school."

"I mean, did you know you were gay in high school?" he clarified.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me? I was your best friend. You could have trusted me." He seemed wounded as he talked.

"I didn't trust anyone. Being gay in our high school would have been the end of me. Can you imagine how Jim and Matt and Bill would have treated me? It was bad enough I was a brain. I'd have been run out on a rail, if I was a gay brain."

"Still, I wish I had known," Wardo offered.

"Why?"

"I don't know. It's weird. It wouldn't have mattered, but I guess it might have mattered."

I didn't understand his answer then. I did eventually.

"Can I tell you something?" I asked.

"Sure."

"When we were in high school, I licked your nipple. I was staying at your house. You were asleep. I couldn't help myself." I paused, realizing I sounded creepy. "I'm sorry."

"So, you wanted me in high school?"

"Wanted you? I more than wanted you, Wardo. I was madly in love with you."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.

"What would have been the point? Other than to ruin our friendship? How would you have reacted if I had pledged my love for you? You'd have run, leaving us in ruins."

"Well, you're telling me now, and I'm not running."

"That was then, this is now," I offered.

"I wish I had known."

"Why?" I asked. "So you could have asked me to the prom? Or asked me to go steady?"

"I don't know. I just wish I had known."

We drank on, as I wondered why. We talked and talked, talking endlessly about nothing. We were six again, playing long past the time reasonable people would have gotten bored. As we walked back to my condo, Wardo put his arm around me and pulled me into him. A passerby would have taken us for lovers.

Home, we clumsily said good night and headed to our separate rooms. I stripped down and climbed into my bed, a little frustrated and wondering if I should have invited Wardo to share a bed with me, as we had so many times before. As I wondered, Eddie appeared in my door, wearing only boxers.

"Are you awake?" he asked.

"Sure."

He moved to the edge of the bed and sat down. "Can I sleep in here?"

"Sure. But, I'm naked."

"I'll get naked, too," he said, sliding his boxers off and sliding in next to me. His mouth was immediately on mine. "I didn't drive three hours to sleep alone," he whispered in my ear when our kiss ended. "I drove here to be with you."

We made out as we rolled back and forth on the bed, each of us trying to get the upper hand. Eddie won and pinned me down. "I want to fuck you," he said.

"There are condoms and lube in the drawer," I said.

"Do I need a condom?" he asked.

"To be safe."

"We didn't use them last weekend."

"We didn't have any."

"I don't like them. If you're sick, then it's already too late for me."

He pulled the lube out of the drawer and coated himself. I raised my legs and guided him into me. Wardo closed his eyes as he fucked me. I wanted him to slow down and make it last, but he seemed too lost in it already. I focused on his face as I jacked myself to the brink. I held off until I felt him swell inside me. We came together, noisily.

After we cleaned up, Wardo settled on his back, and I laid with my head on his shoulder, his arm around me while I played with his chest hair and traced his collarbone.

"I like fucking you," he said.

"I like when you fuck me."

"I'm not surprised by that," he responded. "You're gay. But, I'm surprised I like it. I'm not gay."

I almost responded "the evidence suggests otherwise," but I thought better of it. I kissed his nipple instead.

"When did you figure out you were gay?" he asked.

"I don't know. I think I always knew. I always liked looking at men more than women. When we were little, I really liked watching Mike work out." Mike was Eddie's oldest brother, and he lifted weights long before it became a thing to do so. When he was in high school, he had a sculpted body, and he used to lift weights shirtless in the Estes basement while Eddie and I played with his Hot Wheels. I had stared at him while he did.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked.

"Sure."

"Do you remember the New Year's Eve when we got the hotel room in Indy in hopes of getting laid?"

"Sure."

"When we struck out, you drove to the hotel, and said 'we could go in and just sex each other.' If I had said 'okay,' would you have gone through with it?"

"I dunno. I was horny. I might've. But, I probably would have gotten off and then left you hanging."

"Did you think I was gay?"

"Not at all."

"Then why did you say it?"

"I dunno. I was horny. And, you were my best friend. If I was ever going to sex a guy, I'd have wanted it to be you. . . . Why didn't you say anything?"

"Are you kidding? I was paralyzed with fear. I worried that you were joking and, if I said 'okay, let's go,' you'd have freaked out."

"I might've. I definitely would have freaked out if we had gone in and gone through with it. It's probably best we didn't."

"You haven't freaked out since."

"I have. I totally freaked out in Paris. I scrubbed myself raw in the shower and tried to figure out a way to get my stuff without seeing you again. It took me a long time to get over the fact that I had fucked you. I tried for a long time to blame you, but honesty won out. It wasn't your fault. But, I couldn't accept that I had done it."

I moved my hand to his crotch as he played with my hair. I tickled his dick and his balls. He opened his legs for access.

"Did you have last weekend planned?"

"It was in the back of my head. I suspect I'd have let it pass if it weren't for all the vodka. I'm not very bold, left to myself."

"Did you like it when I took your cherry?"

"I'm not sure I liked it. I was more surprised than anything else. I was surprised you were trying to do it. I was more surprised I wanted to let you. And, I was even more surprised it didn't hurt more than it did."

"I liked it."

"I could tell. And, I liked that you liked it. I usually fuck with my eyes closed. I liked that you fucked with your eyes open."

"The next time you fuck me, assuming there is a next time, you should do it with your eyes open."

"Oh, there'll be a next time," Wardo promised. "In the meantime, how about a blow job?" he asked, pushing my head toward his dick.

I needed little encouragement. I took him in my mouth as my head rested on his stomach. I stroked him as I swirled his head in my mouth. I swallowed all he had when he came.

When we were done, we laid face to face and talked some more. I wish I could tell you about what. Likely, we talked about nothing. But, we talked and talked, neither of us wanting the day to end.

Part Seven

Wardo fucked me with his eyes open the next morning. I was on my back, and I overcame my timidity and talked him through it, slowing him down so he could fuck me properly. We stared at each other as I held his sides and hips. I came before he did. I was surprised when, after he came, he lowered himself onto me, smearing my cum and our sweat between us and kissing me. I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed him into me. He dozed off as I tickled his back. I dozed off after he did.

When we woke up, we showered together. I washed him first, barehanded. I wanted to feel every inch of him.

He washed me when I had finished washing him. I wasn't sure what he would do when he got to my crotch, but he didn't hesitate, soaping me completely. I got hard as he did.

"Come up here," I said. "Let's jack each other off while we make out."

Wardo took me in his hand and lowered his mouth to mine. We came as we kissed, spraying each other.

"That was hot, Jeffrey," he said. Wardo had always used my full Christian name.

"It was," I said, before I lowered myself to his dick to lick some of my cum off of him.

"That was not," he said, when I raised back up.

"Don't knock it until you try it," I warned.

*****

We spent the day at Wrigley Field, watching the Cubs get trounced by the Bucs. We were drunk on Miller Lite by the time we wandered home for a nap. Without talking, we both stripped naked and climbed into bed. We slept with Eddie wrapped around me, holding hands. As I dozed off, I thought "this is more than sex."

When I woke up, Eddie was sitting up reading my book.

"Hey, sleepy," he said.

"How long have you been awake?" I asked.

"About half an hour. I watched you sleep for awhile and then grabbed your book." I was reading "1964," the story of racial integration through the Cardinals/Yankees World Series.

"What do you want to do tonight?" I asked.

"You," he responded, smiling.

"I think I'm going to do you tonight," I answered, smiling back.

Eddie rolled toward me and pulled me into him. "Oh, you do, do you?"

"I do."

"Why don't you do me right now?"

I pulled my face back. "Are you sure?"

"I am."

I took my time getting him ready. By the time I was ready to enter him, I was as hard as a rock and knew I would not last long. I took him face down, thinking it would be easiest on him. I came too fast, before I could find his prostate and show him that being fucked could be pleasurable. I felt like a teenager with no dick control.

"Sorry. That was too quick."

"You'll go slower next time."

I was intoxicated by the promise of next time as I took Eddie's dick into my mouth and gave him the longest, slowest blow job I could. I worked my finger in and out of his ass as I sucked him, searching for his button. When I found it, he flinched and came, filling my mouth.

"What the hell was that?" he asked when I was done and next to him, nuzzling my head into his neck.

"Your prostate. If I could find it while I'm fucking you, you'd see why gay men like getting fucked."

"I don't mind it. But, I can't imagine liking it."

"That's because I haven't found your prostate yet. When I do, you'll go nuts." As I laid there, it occurred to me that we were talking like lovers, not friends. It also occurred to me it was the easiest love affair I had ever started. We already knew everything about each other. We had already seen each other through deaths and tragedies. And, we already loved each other, like only best friends for years and years could. All we had to work out was the sex, and the evidence suggested that would not be a problem.

*****

Chicago and all it has to offer were just outside my door, but we stayed in that night, eating pizza on the living room floor and talking like a couple. I wanted to ask what was going on, but I feared doing so would break the spell.

Eddie leaned against the couch with my head in his lap, playing with my hair. My hand was under his legs. Something was on television, but I don't think either of us was watching whatever it was.

"I should probably give you a blow job," he said, out of the blue and very matter of factly. I turned my face to his and raised my eyebrows.

"I mean, we've done everything else. So, we should probably do that."

"You don't have to."

"I know. But I kind of want to. I love when you blow me. I'd kind of like to make you feel the way you make me feel. . . . Is it hard?"

"No, but it's getting there."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know. I was being funny. . . . It's not hard for me. It's one of my favorite things."

"Does it taste bad?"

"It depends on what you're talking about. A dick itself does not really have a taste. It's maybe a little salty. But, it's just skin. Like a finger, only smoother. And softer. Cum has a taste. It can be bitter. It can be sweet. It depends on what you've eaten."

"I'm not sure I'll be able to let you come in my mouth," he said.

"You don't have to."

"Is it bad if I don't?"

"You've been blown, so you know it feels better if you do. A lot. But, you don't have to. If you do, you don't have to swallow it. You can spit it out."

"Okay," he said. "I'm ready. Let's do this."

I stood up and stepped out of my shorts. I was hard from the talk of him blowing me. I moved in front of him and put my dick in front of his face. He looked at it from both sides, like he was inspecting it. He dabbed the precum off with his forefinger and wiped it on my leg. Just when I thought he might chicken out, he opened his mouth and took my head in. His mouth was wet and warm and I wanted to push the rest of my dick in as far as I could. I resisted, but it was tough.

He took me in a little farther. I felt him gag a little.

"You really don't have to do this, Eddie."

He looked up at me, my dick still in his mouth. He pulled back a little and then went back down. Our eyes locked, he started moving back and forth on my dick. I couldn't believe what I was seeing as my dick disappeared and then reappeared, over and over. It was not a great blow job, but the visual was magical. I warned him that I was about to come. He pulled off, and I jacked a load onto his chest. I almost fell down when he dabbed his finger into it and tasted it. I used my shorts to clean the rest of me off of him, and then settled back into him. He put his arms around me, and I intertwined my hands in his.

"What did you think?" I asked.

"It wasn't horrible. After yesterday and today, I thought it might taste like vodka."

"Not about that. About the blow job."

"Oh. It was about how you described it. I'll get used to it."

There it was again. Talk like this was the start of something, not an interlude. It was all I could do not to explore the issue. I am not Job. I want to know right now all there is to know. I do not like allowing things to play out.

I resisted the urge to explore. Instead, I reached my hand back and held his cheek. He folded his head into my hand. "Eddie, you're my best friend," I said, adopting the voice of Jessica Tandy from Driving Miss Daisy.

"I'm glad," Eddie offered back. "I'm really, really glad."

Eddie wrapped his legs around mine. We sat like that for a long time, inhaling and exhaling together. I must have dozed off. Eddie woke me up, echoing Top Gun by whispering "Jeffrey, you big stud, take me to bed or lose me forever" in my ear.

Eddie fucked me missionary style once we were in bed. When he was finished, he blew me again. I should have warned him that I was going to come, but I got lost in it. I came in his mouth. He gagged, but he didn't stop. When he was done, he raced to the bathroom and spit my cum in the sink.

When he was settled back beside me, I apologized for not warning him.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "I've never warned you."

As we laid there waiting for sleep to settle over us, I felt like I was on the edge of a cliff. I decided to dangle one foot off.

"I love you, Edward."

"I love you, too, Jeffrey."

I wanted to jump, but I didn't. Instead, I leaned over and kissed him good-night.

Part Eight

When I woke up, Eddie was in the kitchen making breakfast and listening to his iPod. I poured myself coffee and watched him work. He really was a beautiful man. His back was hairless. His calves were rippled. His hands and feet were strong and thick and hairy. I made a note to suck his fingers and toes the next time I sexed him.

"What time are you leaving today?" I asked, once he had slid my plate in front of me.

"As late as possible."

We ate in silence. A very comfortable silence.

After we cleaned up, Eddie led me by the hand back to bed. After he took me on my back and finished me with his mouth, he leaned on his elbow and tickled my hairless chest and stomach.

"What are you thinking?" I asked.

"That I was right about two guys."

"How so?"