tagGay MaleThe Invitation

The Invitation


A brief warning for anyone who had read some of my other contributions and might be expecting more of the same here. Please note the category – Gay Male. This is an experiment. Yes, there is a female involved, but it is primarily about the love of one man for another. Take of it what you will. If it's your thing I hope you enjoy it. If it's not, there are plenty of other stories here.


The invitation came on a Saturday morning and I almost tossed it thinking it was some dumb circular. It was a glossy card with a picture on one side showing a resort hotel—you know the kind, all wooden huts on stilts that look like they'll let in the rain and be cold, but in reality are luxury pads kitted out with everything you could possibly want and other stuff you simply don't need. I get them often enough to recognize the pitch and usually drop them in the trash. Like I said, this almost went the same way until I turned it over. Why I don't know, but the names shown there stopped me dead in my tracks.

Steph and Aran invite you to Aran's thirtieth birthday.

Where? Sandy Beach Resort, Heartville Sands, SC.

When? September 5, of course.

There was a website address and I walked to my old PC, woke it and typed the url into the browser.

The site was slick, of course it would be, and I knew Aran had most likely coded it himself. That was what he did when he was in college. He'd moved on since, making even bigger bucks now. The website showed the resort, it showed Steph and Aran, and it said You have to come, Jamie!

Clever. I wondered how Aran had programmed it to recognize who was logged in. TCP/IP address, perhaps? But how would be know mine? It never occurred to me I was the only invitee.

And still I almost tossed it in the trash because remembering them raised all kinds of issues for me.

Who am I kidding. Them? Memories of Aran raised all kinds of issues. All I felt about Steph was guilt at what I did with her husband only minutes before they exchanged their wedding vows.


Ten years. You'd think it was a long time, but for me it seemed like only yesterday. I expect it isn't for Aran—although he must remember what we did.

I met Aran when we were sixteen, two year off leaving high school, but we were friends for a long time before we became something else, and it was a strange introduction.

I heard the taunting before I saw anything. When I came around the corner of the swimming pool there were three of them with this skinny kid between them. Greg Peters was the leader, same as he always was, but Mark Galliet and Zak Mendoza were the muscle. Greg had muscle too, just he liked to use other people's when he could.

Mark and Zak were pushing the skinny kid to and fro between them. The kid flopped around like he hadn't got a single muscle in his body. Looking at him I thought that might be right.

"Hey," I said, not loud but loud enough for them to hear. I didn't want to get in a fight. At the same time I didn't want the kid to get beaten either.

"Nothing to do with you, Nelson."

I gave a smile I hoped was threat enough. "Making it my business, Greg."

He gave a smile back. Standoff.

"Go find your own faggot," Zak said, and the other two laughed.

"You want me all to yourselves, boys?" the new kid said. I give him this, he had guts. No brains, but guts in plenty.

Mark punched him in them. Hard.

The kid doubled over.

I saw how it was about to play out. Zak would raise his knee and catch the kid's chin, which would put him on the floor. Then the two of them would start kicking while Greg urged them on.

It didn't give me much choice.

I stepped in, swung hard, caught Greg on the side of his face. His head spun hard like I hoped it would. Inside his skull his brain lagged behind and the shock turned out the lights for a while. He went down like a sack of grain.

Zak and Mark turned their attention from the kid to me, a little uncertain now their boss was out the picture.

I spread my arms, showing them I was ready, but without Greg I could see they didn't know what to do.

"Take him home," I said, nodding at the prone figure. Thankfully they understood orders. It was a lucky break, because I wasn't sure I could take the two of them. Probably, but not sure.

They put an arm each under Greg and lifted. He was starting to come around, but his eyes were unfocussed and I stepped back, half expecting him to throw up. I watched them stagger away, knowing this wasn't the end of it.

"Hey, thanks," the kid said. "Thanks a lot."

I glanced at him. He was almost my height, which surprised me. When he was getting picked on he'd looked a lot smaller. Still skinny though. Wore spectacles, square geeky ones which he picked up off the floor, checked over and settled on his face.

"What you do to set them off?" I asked.

He spread his hands. "I think being me was enough."

I laughed. I liked him. Didn't know why then, often didn't know why later, but I liked him a lot. He had spirit as well as courage.

His assailants had reached the corner at the end of the back wall of the pool and Greg had come around some more.

"Hey, faggots, get a fuckin' room!"

The kid turned and gave him the finger. For a moment it looked as if Greg was going to come back and finish the job, then he shook his head.

"Later," he shouted, pointing. "Both of you. Later."

What the hell, I thought, and gave him the finger too.

When they'd gone the kid laughed and slapped me on the back.

"Aran," he said, holding his hand out. I stared at it for a while. I didn't want to be his friend. But there was something about him and eventually I took the hand. His grip was firm.

"Jamie," I said.


It took a month before Greg caught me alone, and this time he'd brought reinforcements. There were five of them.

I got in some good shots. Took two of them down, but the odds were always against me and I knew it. The only thing I could do was minimize the damage, and after they got be on the ground I curled up as tight as I could and took the kicking. They might have killed me if I hadn't. Greg didn't take well to being bettered.

When I woke up I was lying on my back on the sidewalk, choking on a tooth lodged in my throat.

I rolled over and vomited, the tooth coming out with the contents of my stomach.

When I tried to stand the world began to spin and I threw up again.

A wash of lights made me turn away, boring into my eyes. The car pulled over and I heard a door open, the pinging of the warning. A hand gripped my arm, trying to lift me. For a moment I thought Greg had come back to finish the job, then Aran spoke.

"Can you walk?"

I shook my head. Snot and blood trailed out my nose and I wiped it away on my sleeve.

"Try," Aran said. "Before they come back."

"They won't come back."


I tried to laugh but it hurt.

"Hey, say what you mean, man."

"Fucking cunts," he said, starting to laugh too. It was better than the alternative. "Now get in the car. You're too big to lift."

"You're not allowed passengers," I said. "Not one my age."

"Get in the fucking car." There was steel in Aran's voice.

"How did you know?" I said as I started to shuffle toward the road.

"Kelly Brean. She's been giving Greg some lately and she let slip he boasted tonight was the night they got payback."

"Well they sure did that." I eased myself into the back seat, Aran helping. "Where we going, anyway? I can't afford the hospital."

"My Mom's a nurse," Aran said, giving me a final push to get my feet in. He closed the door and slid in behind the wheel.

"This her car?" I asked.

I saw him nod.

"She know you took it?"

"Just shut up, Jamie."


I think it was Aran started the other thing the year we left high school, but it's vague in my memory, despite what happened before his wedding being as clear as morning light. I expect that very first time we'd been fooling around, as we often did, and I have a recollection we were comparing notes on some of the girls we'd been going out with. Boasting more like over which of us had gotten furthest. It was the summer between high school and college and Aran had already gotten a full scholarship to CalTech. I wasn't going anywhere. I'd started working with my Pop at his construction firm. It was Aran had the brains, I had the brawn.

Sitting at the kitchen table trying to delve up the memory it all started coming clear in my head. Yes—Aran had definitely made the first move. Not a move, not directly, but a sign, an indication. The start of what we did that summer until he went away.

Aran was joking about Pamela Prentice. We'd both been out with her the way we did back then, trying to push things, but Pam was a girl of principle and was having none of it. Except Aran claimed he'd got as far as loosing her tits and sucking on them. Pam had great tits and I'd felt them from outside her sweater a couple times. Now here was Aran claiming he'd freed them.

"How'd they look?" I asked, getting a little turned on as well as curious.

Aran rolled his eyes. "Man—they're unbelievable. Even bigger than-" He nodded at the poster on his wall. It was an oldie but a goodie, as they say on the radio. Another Pamela - Pammie Anderson, the synchronicity in names appropriate. The poster was ragged on the edges now but hadn't faded much, mainly because it was tacked inside his closet door. As if he was trying to hide it from his Mom, even though she hung his clothes in there after she washed them. Still, it was a nice gesture not to hang it on the wall where anyone who came in might see it.

We'd both spent hours examining the poster and Aran was convinced Pammie was showing a little nipple above the side of one bikini cup. I wasn't so sure, but the idea was nice to play around with.

"She's bigger than those?" I said.

Aran nodded. "Felt bigger."

I laughed. "And when did you feel Pamela Anderson's tits?"

He gave me a look. I noticed he was getting a hard on. He'd been doing that lately when we joked around this way, and to be honest my own cock wasn't exactly flaccid.

I was waiting for Aran to open up his computer. There wasn't as much internet porn back then, but what there was Aran could get to, without leaving a trace either, and without having to pay. Just like he'd left no trace the time he'd hacked into the school's system and gotten Greg Peters canned. He wouldn't tell me exactly what he'd done but it had been enough for Greg to be gone inside a week.

Payback, Aran had said.

"You don't have to feel 'em to know they're huge. And I tell you, Pam's are even bigger than Pam's." He laughed.

"So how come she let you?" I shifted on the bed, trying to get my cock comfortable, to achieve some kind of equilibrium inside my jeans. I guess Aran could see my erection just like I could see his. It should have felt weird but we knew each other so well by then it seemed natural to be staring at a movie star while we talked about another girl's tits, though I don't think either of us knew we'd end up jacking off in front of each other.

"So you going to give me the dirty details?"

He glanced across at me. His eyes flickered down, came up.

"You really wanna know?"

I rolled my eyes.

"Really?" he asked.

I slapped his belly with the back of my hand.

"Ow. Brutality. Mom. Mom." But his voice was too soft to carry.

"You don't want your Mom coming in here now, do you?"

"If you're gonna beat on me sure I do."

"The tits," I said.

Aran sighed. "Man, you're fuckin' persistent."

"Not as persistent as you, it seems. I didn't get those babies out. And I'm not sure I believe you did either."

"Did too."

"So tell me."

He sighed again. "You're not gonna shut up, are you?"

I shook my head. "Nope. Where did you do it?"

"Her place."

I stared at him. "Her place? Fuck, man, if her Pop caught you you'd be dead meat."

"Her Pop wasn't there, dumbo."


"After school. Maybe four." He looked across at me and shifted, making no pretense when he pushed the bulge in his jeans to one side. "We knew we had at least an hour, more like two, before anyone came home."

"Did you have to push her or did she want to?"

"I think she wanted to," Aran said.

"Just the tits, or..." I let it hang. He knew what I meant.

"Just the tits. Sorry."

"You gonna see her again?"

"What d'you think?"


He grinned. "They were great tits."

I shook my head. "This is a lot of fuckin' foreplay, man. Get to the meat."

Aran laughed. "The meat. Sure, I'll get to the meat." He shifted on the bed again.

"You got a problem?"

He glanced down at me. "Only the same one you got."

"Your fault. It's you talking about Pammie Prentice's tits."

"You got to feel 'em up though, didn't you?"

"Sure. From outside her sweater. That's not the same thing. Not the same thing at all."

Aran shifted again. "I think I'm gonna have to let the dog loose," he said.

I stared at him for a moment. "Do what you have to, man."

"How about you? You gonna get yours out too?"

I gave a lift of my shoulders. "I'm still waiting for this story. And it's a fuckin' long time coming."

"So," Aran said, "we were fooling around in her room. It's pink. With ponies on the walls. Honest to God, it felt like I was trapped inside some fuckin' cartoon." He shifted, then dropped a hand to his belt and started to undo it. "Ah, fuck it," he said.

I watched him loosen his belt. Then he pulled on the zip on his jeans. Left it down, maybe having second thoughts. I'd seen his cock before, and he'd seen mine, in the showers after swimming, but I'd never seen it hard and I have to admit I was kind of curious what it would look like. Was he big or not? Big as me? Bigger?

"Go on," I said, not sure if I was talking about the story or the jeans.

"Messing around," he said, "that's all I thought we were doing. And you know you gotta try, don't you. Hand down the front of the sweater. Even tried a hand down inside her jeans but she sure as hell put a stop to that fast enough." He sighed and pulled at his jeans, wriggling on the bed until they were half way down his thighs. His shorts had stayed in place, but the ridge of his cock was clear. Not as big as me. Not bad, but not as big as me.

"Uh-huh," I said. I dropped my own hand and loosened my belt. Aran watched, a smile on his lips. I stopped with the belt undone, waiting for him to continue, and eventually he did.

"I was kinda expecting not to get anywhere, but then she reached behind and snapped her bra strap. Just like that. An invitation."

"An invitation?"

"Sure. That's the way I saw it. The way she meant it, too, I'm sure." He shifted again, began to tease his shorts down. I saw his pubic hair emerge, then the base of his cock. "It's not gonna gross you out if I do this, is it?"

"Depends. What you gonna do?"

This time he slapped my belly with his hand. "You know what I'm gonna do. If you say it's too weird for you I'll stop. But if you don't say nuthin' I'm gonna go ahead and jack off while I tell you about Pam's titties." His shorts followed the jeans and his cock slapped against his belly. He pulled his t-shirt up so his cock lay against his skin. I stared at it. Aran didn't seem to mind. He didn't touch himself, just left his cock on display like he was proud of it.

"An invitation," I said.

"I think so, don't you?" I thought I knew what he was talking about but I might have been wrong. Whatever he meant I began to undo the brass buttons on the front of my levi's.

"So you took the invitation," I said. The buttons were all loose now and I kicked my jeans all the way off. Show Aran he wasn't the only deviant in the room. I didn't wait but pushed my shorts off after them.

Aran made a noise, half way between a groan and a sigh.

"Fuck," he said, "You got a big cock!"

I glanced down at myself, across at him.

"I guess."

"You gotta be, I don't know, eight inches? Maybe more. Fuck, man, Pam would'a put out if she knew you were packing heat like that."

I laughed. "You're not small yourself," I said.

Aran laughed too. "Is this a weird conversation?"

"A bit, I guess."

He laughed again.

"I'm waiting," I said.

He sighed. "So yes, I took the invitation." At last his hand dropped and circled his cock. He glanced at me. "Okay if I do this while I tell you?"

I nodded, dropped my own hand. "Okay if I join in?"

"Help yourself. So anyway, I reached up and tried to undo the strap." He shook his head. "Man, do you have you any idea how hard it is to undo a bra strap?"

"Some," I said.

He looked across at me, looked down. I was stroking myself steadily now, beads of pre-cum gathering at the bulbous head.

"Sure you do," he said. "Anyway, I kept going. I wasn't gonna let some bra strap defeat me, and Pam was patient. She could've laughed and that would've been it, but she didn't. In fact she was almost totally passive. Letting me work away at that clip until eventually I got it loose. Then I put my hand around front and felt her titties under the loose bra."

"How'd they feel?" Pressure was starting to build at the base of my cock but no way was I going to come before Aran. I glanced at the poster inside the closet door, tried to imagine tits that fine in my hand. Then I stopped, because the imagining made me want to come all the more.

"How do you think they felt? Like God placed heaven in the palm of my hand."

"What then?"

"She just sat there like it was all up to me. So I pulled her shirt up. And she lifted her arms and let me pull it over her head. Then the bra went on the floor and I put my hands back on her, but of course I could see 'em as well now."

"Tell me," I said, aware my voice was getting tight. As tight as my balls.

"You gonna come, Jamie?" Aran said.

"I guess, soon."

"Uh-huh. Me too." There was something bright in his eyes, and what we were doing might have felt weird but didn't. It felt completely natural.

"Go on," I said.

Aran shook his head but picked up the tale. "So after a while she lay on her back and I started kissing them, pulled on her nipples with my lips and teeth."

"What are her nipples like?"

"Big as her tits," he started, then laughed. "Well, obviously not as big as her tits, but big like matching her tits. And black. Really dark."

"Long?" I asked.

"Yeah, long too."

"Did she like you sucking her tits?"

"I think so. Every now and again she's arch her back up like she wanted me to suck harder, so I did. They were getting wet from my spit and I spread it around. I wondered what she might do if I got my cock out and tried to fuck them. Man, she was just so fucking passive, like I could'a done anything I wanted. Except when I dropped my hand to her jeans again she stopped me a second time so I went back to the titties."

"You think she got turned on?"

"I think so, sure. Her nipples were turned on, I know that. Hard as erasers."

"What happened?" I said. "In the end. Who stopped it?"

Aran gave a tight laugh. "I'm gonna come any fucking second, man, you want to wait on that?"

"Don't you dare," I said. "You can't come 'till you tell me what happened."

He let his breath out and his hand, which had been a blur, slowed. "Okay, okay. I rolled on top of her and lay between her thighs. She let me do that. Let me hump against her. I think she was enjoying it as much as me. She was humping up against me too, and we did that for a while. The bed springs were squeaking and I remember thinking we couldn't've done it if there'd been anyone else in the house. I humped her and she humped me back, and then damn if I don't think she came."

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